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The School Survival Forums are permanently retired. If you need help with quitting school, unsupportive parents or anything else, there is a list of resources on the Help Page.

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To everyone who joined these forums at some point, and got discouraged by the negativity and left after a while (or even got literally scared off): I'm sorry.

I wasn't good enough at encouraging people to be kinder, and removing people who refuse to be kind. Encouraging people is hard, and removing people creates conflict, and I hate conflict... so that's why I wasn't better at it.

I was a very, very sensitive teen. The atmosphere of this forum as it is now, if it had existed in 1996, would probably have upset me far more than it would have helped.

I can handle quite a lot of negativity and even abuse now, but that isn't the point. I want to help people. I want to help the people who need it the most, and I want to help people like the 1996 version of me.

I'm still figuring out the best way to do that, but as it is now, these forums are doing more harm than good, and I can't keep running them.

Thank you to the few people who have tried to understand my point of view so far. I really, really appreciate you guys. You are beautiful people.

Everyone else: If after everything I've said so far, you still don't understand my motivations, I think it's unlikely that you will. We're just too different. Maybe someday in the future it might make sense, but until then, there's no point in arguing about it. I don't have the time or the energy for arguing anymore. I will focus my time and energy on people who support me, and those who need help.

-SoulRiser

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Vatman's NaPo 2012
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Vatman Offline
Foreplay in Ink

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Post: #1
Vatman's NaPo 2012

My first poem shall be about lint. Behold.

Lint lint lint.

My second poem shall be about tooth paste.

mint mint mint.

My third poem will be about the comparison of life and death as told through a poem about jeans.

Every pair of blue jeans
has stained knees,
greened permanently.
I don’t set out to ruin them,
but, somehow, when the sky blues up.
and the wind blows coolishly mild,
something asks me to kneel
in the high grass and pull.

Some cupid kills with arrows, some with traps.
04-03-2012 02:56 AM
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magikarp Offline
Valerie Solanas

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Post: #2
RE: Vatman's NaPo 2012

Vatman batman lint mint.

Idk.

"Do we treat straight public sex differently than we do gay public sex? Of course. Straight people are so proud of their public sex that they named a cocktail after it."
04-03-2012 11:44 AM
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.Manicrose. Offline
CODSWALLOP

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Post: #3
RE: Vatman's NaPo 2012

I like the first one best.

Go to work. Send your kids to school. Follow fashion. Act normal. Walk on the pavement. Watch TV. Save for your old age. Obey the law. Repeat after me: "I am free."

Hidden stuff:
04-03-2012 11:52 AM
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Vatman Offline
Foreplay in Ink

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Post: #4
RE: Vatman's NaPo 2012

Tonight in New Haven, streets-
not streets, but paths
along sidewalks, shine lampmist
spring light, seem lonely.
I am lonely, without
the bend of your elbow
to rest my hand,
walking without moving.
Wish you were here.

Some cupid kills with arrows, some with traps.
04-04-2012 02:13 PM
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itsurgrlcass Offline
Revolutionary

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Post: #5
RE: Vatman's NaPo 2012

Where'd Vatty go?

It's just chemicals.
04-10-2012 01:05 PM
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Vatman Offline
Foreplay in Ink

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Post: #6
RE: Vatman's NaPo 2012

(04-10-2012 01:05 PM)itsurgrlcass Wrote:  Where'd Vatty go?

I'm around. And on task for that matter. I suppose I have 16 poems to update here huh. Lets see.

April 3
Hidden stuff:

The church bells barely visible
at near distance, if where I
stand is near, if we can agree

on that, you and I
listening to their silver
tintinnabulation,

their way of making air
broken corners;
and carried on an ocean wind -

cutting through the sultriness,
softly in that way sunrise
is a white tide

spraying off these house
walls' night-infested
melancholia,

their sound, a shape
within a shape.
They chime; they

come parading
on the evening's thickest,
the church bells barely visible.
April 4

Hidden stuff:

Of my great-grandmother's paintings
my elders framed a seascape of the Great
Stone Face (which collapsed in 2003).
It hangs on my bedroom wall.

They also let me pick one to keep.
I chose a sunset – a rich fan of reds,
some brighter, some deeper: colors
appealing to my seven-year-old taste.

I think my grandfather tried to explain
what the painting represented,
but it didn't make sense to me then.
His words came back to me decades later,

long after I'd left for college, my parents
had moved to another town,
and the bloodred sunset had gone
with the rest of my childhood.

If I had infinite thin-air storage
of all I'd ever owned, I could show you
how my great-grandmother saw
the sky after Krakatoa.
April 5
Hidden stuff:


This
is
a fib.
It bears scant
relation to truth—
a benign prevarication.
Reading it won't send you hurtling into the abyss;
I doubt if it will increase the sum of the world's evil by so much as a quark.
Its force for good is likewise infinitesimal.
As an exemplar of moral
irrelevance I
guess it would
be hard
to
beat.
April 6
Hidden stuff:


Critical warning No. 6:
Your urgent reply is needed.

Your first reply, "No thanks," seemed perfunctory. Your second,
"NO THANK YOU," was merely a tired rehash of the first.

Your third, "Take me off your mailing list," is of course protected
by the First Amendment, but fails to meet our standards of urgency.

Your fourth, "Go to hell", is so century-before-last.
Cogency requires at the very least that you "make it new."

Your fifth, "Fuck off," needs clarification. Fuck off of what?
(Never end a sentence with a preposition.)

Critical warning No. 7: Spammees who tell us
that our office will be bombed unless we

remove them from our database in the next fifteen minutes
are reported to the Department of Homeland Security.
April 7
Hidden stuff:


And do others seem more evanescent
than noteworthy? You underrate everyone
except traumatized deep-probing
geomancers. Shamelessly you upset
tender religious sensibilities,
slandering God, drinking gin
'neath hallowed dioramas
signifiying gaslit thaumaturgical
levitation. Nevertheless,
sow whilst the evening grass
sighs, sings, soughs, sussurates, shivers.
Someday you'll learn nostalgia.

April 8
Hidden stuff:

Greenland
sled dogs
tethered
to posts
in a mudfield
that once
was snow

April 9
Hidden stuff:

My interior decorator

takes half an hour to choose the exact shade
of the filling for my wisdom tooth.
His lavender gloves
match the plastic rinse cups
but not the toothbrush
or the airline-friendly toothpaste
or the lip balm that he gives me
all in a miniature paper shopping bag—
teal, with his office contact info
embossed on the side in gold.
Guess next time I go I'll return
the bag, and demand a $50 rebate.
April 10
Hidden stuff:


3-year-old surrealism:
I dreamed it was raining in the house.

The joy of jumping in puddles.

A wall of water approaching
from the neighbor's yard.
I scoop up the puppy and run.

Lying in bed listening to tiny blurred points of spring.

Me as a toddler, introduced to thunder:
"How do, funner, how you?"

An ubiquity of dimples.

Basking in thunder and lighting.
The writhing trees.

Tiny braided streams divide
pine needles bunched on the path.

My rubber boots have sprung a leak.

21-year-old wish-it-were-surrealism:
it's raining in the house.

The joy of driving through puddles
and splashing pedestrians.

Caught without an umbrella in a summer squall:
walk tall and welcome the wet.

People and their umbrellas emerging from the subway –
Mary Poppins: Balloons and balloons.

Afterwards: worms all over the sidewalk.

April 11

Hidden stuff:

A dog starved at his master's gate,
he eats his victuals fast enough.
Oh fat white doggie whom nobody loves,

oh, you are patient, I have seen you sit,
a huddled mastiff yearning to breathe free;
hope springs eternal in the canine breast.

Whilst thou art barking forth thy soul abroad
wagging thy tail in sprightly dance—
Down, wanton, down! Have you no shame?

Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets.
By thy long white ears and quivering nose
now wherefore stopp'st thou at this tree?

"Is it weakness of intellect, doggie?" I cried.
He sprawls around, no longer wild.
The dog was ours before we were the dog's.

April 12
Hidden stuff:


"It can't get any worse." It's tempting
fate in a big way, taunting God
as much as unsinkable ships, unspeakable
tragedies, unwritten rules to the galaxy.

"I did everything right." You will certainly
do everything wrong for a while, make
enormous mistakes with consequences
you can't file away in a memory.

"I'm ready for anything." You aren't.
You can't be. Life will find the broken
seal, the crack, the thin strip of weather
protectant that dissolved or didn't exist.

"Everything happens for a reason." Even if
that might be true, you will never
know. And when something happens that closes
the door on hope, you will drown in your search
for a way in.

April 13

Hidden stuff:


Rescue not with searing eyes those
animals where madness lies from
bite or blood
infecting all
encephalitis will befall. Be
sure and safe when

vixen cross
a morning walk among the moss, for you will
come to no good terms if you
contract this tiny germ. From every
inch your limbs will twitch when
negri bodies make the call
enjoying true their final niche.
April 14

Hidden stuff:

Da da da de dum doo de dum, De doo da de doo doo
it thrums, your heart it
goes with such discord,
its got no meter memory stored
to keep in sync with nature’s call
and now more upset shall befall this
lapse in timing that’s been lost for
it shall be a handsome cost
so to the foxglove we now turn, this fatal rhythm it shall spurn.

Some cupid kills with arrows, some with traps.
04-18-2012 09:37 AM
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Miller0700 Offline
Here to save you.

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Post: #7
RE: Vatman's NaPo 2012

Coming along nicely.

Previously known as Derchin.
04-18-2012 09:39 AM
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Vatman Offline
Foreplay in Ink

Posts: 2,701
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Post: #8
RE: Vatman's NaPo 2012

April 15

Sudoku

All the long way home
you sat in the back, still
as deep waters. Only the tip
of your pencil skipped,
raced, flew over pages
of laddered numbers. Perfect
logic kept you engaged,
tamed that wild brain,
even as the state of Georgia
streamed beyond the windows
and your whole family
disappeared beneath the waves
of concentration. That was the year
your anger flamed and your gaze
hardened like molten glass:
a crystal lattice, a tangle
of planes and sharpened
edges. Turn it this way,
turn it that. A puzzle
I cannot solve.

Some cupid kills with arrows, some with traps.
04-18-2012 09:39 AM
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itsurgrlcass Offline
Revolutionary

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Post: #9
RE: Vatman's NaPo 2012

Wonderful Vatman ^_^ thank you for sharing with all of us! My favorites thus far are 7, 10, and 12. Can't wait to read more!

It's just chemicals.
04-20-2012 09:38 AM
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