Season 1 champion: dead man
dead man won the inaugural season of the Art of Writing League, which was split between the short-lived ArtofBattling.com and Netcees.co. He did so despite a lackluster, no-show-filled regular season in which he went 3-4 but only had one win after the second week of the season. That regular-season performance gave him a No. 6 seed in the Titanium half of the playoff bracket, but he prevailed over TopicalDood5, better known as Soulstice. Still, for the entire and playoffs, he went 6-1 when he posted a verse, beating Soulstice, Witty, patrown, Frank, Nigma and VERITAS while only losing to Pent uP. Season championship Topic: None Posted on July 9, 2013 Result: Beat Soulstice 7-2 I never knew you. but i love you like a faithful apostle like a recreated clone from data saved in a fossil gave me a model, gave me a father, gave me a life from a nether realm, a radiant light. angels at night kissed apocalypse to make it alright, knowing the truth was bitter like the moldiest fruit. hold your pursuits stop the press. it's a mess, Ma was broken in two Grandma was drunk, sobbing, telling me to hold her vermouth only a youth, as a kid i didn't grasp what it meant for my dad to hold his face inside his hands as he wept lennon-esque spectacles fogged to mask his regret ran away at 17 years old. then ran into debt asthmatic camel smoker til he ran out of breath i only knew the man who tucked me back into bed never a man in distress. cold, distant, sad & depressed i still remember the receptionist that sat at her desk eyes lowered, apathetic to your cancerous death a damp Floridian morning when we laid Grandpa to rest i never knew you as a man, more of a presence, a sign that my dad was not the oldest person ever alive time passed, and the more i heard my relatives pine for younger days when Leonard was fine, the more similarities i found between your habits and mine interests and compulsions where the patterns align a doctor in his field of psychiatric design until an alcohol catalyst spiked a rapid decline made mortality shine - life is short and family is dear sunday funeral, the casket veneer, acting sincere the memories and stories cause a past to appear but they could never hold a candle up to having you here. unpacked this afternoon, nearing 2:45 stumbled upon a clip you must've used for your ties your signature inscribed, cursive, set in a line like a piece of time & space you left to prove you're alive i held it and cried, sobbing, though i couldn't say why it told me write a note to you, wherever you lie like this little piece of metal has your spirit inside going blind until i'm looking at the world through your eyes you told me write a note to you, and leave it unsigned because we never had a chance to say Playoff semifinals Topic: http://i.imgur.com/ghAqBsx.jpg Result: Won via Frank disqualification (no verse dropped) Playoff quarterfinals Topic: "Evil is better than nothing." Posted on June 17, 2013 Result: Beat Witty 7-4 i built this. guards and turret guns patrolling the fort oceanside, camp reclusive like a coastal resort overlord, supreme illusive One - microphoning reports over speakerbox, controlling this war. Holy rapport to soldiers, a corps who needed guidance. lonely and poor after civility faded, government erosion was sure until it's sandy wash had floated ashore. total reform, as brutality turns beautiful. each rose has a thorn. i was born to be a leader. i'm a captain, a king armored falcon, windstorm generator flapping his wings democratically bring totalitarianism create a village of widows so i can marry the victims terrorist minions. third-eye blinded to empirical systems colonizing open spaces to prepare for repentance one God, one mind, no comparison, listen to how our armed invasion drills are scaring the children euthanized. they gave away their parent's position, such a shameful tradition.. but necessary for business our parish is Christian, decorated, dead, defaming religion conquered every mormon's mortgage facing eviction make a decision. or you die today for patriotism they won't remember your name. or the date you enlisted so make a decision. make it fast, and make it official ink it on your neck. frame it, plate it with nickel turn heavy rain into drizzle. winter storm into clarity writing war machine agenda like a source of conspiracy morticians in masks performing torture as therapy simply protocol's requirements for extortion or heresy there was nothing here. i built this from a vision inside using expertise to educate these ignorant tribes formulas, weaponry, law, science, corporate design then expanded like an atom into orbiting skies. evil is a construct, but survival is truth so power is the guiding force behind our pursuits survival is a mechanism, power is lust and evil is a weapon when it's ours to construct. Playoff Round 1 Topic: http://i.imgur.com/nizoRcS.jpg Posted on June 10, 2013 Result: Beat patrown 6-1 espionage. ready or not, i'm destined to drop mental facade was our intention. but the weapons were stocked lessons were taught. all propaganda, pay attention and watch how a thought becomes a monster from electrical shock into physical death. primitive tendencies developing clots leaking blood into the intersect of Western and Bloc it's a game of thrones, ally versus enemy shots Stalinistic viewpoints of a Leninist plot ready or not, espionage, waiting for what wouldn't arrive i'm a ticket back home away from looking alive information turned golden, flareguns cushioned our skies naked lies. iron shower curtain pulled to the side viewing Americana bulging behind the lens of Bolshevik's eyes strategic mind-fuck as propulsion towards an ultimate prize not a pistol was drawn. still i had chosen a side Czech borderlands were frozen in time. open your mind, realize, i am scared as any rational person sinking towards his final moment, passive immersion in acceptance, God ascendance, life's a casted commercial advertising false production like a practice rehearsal imagine a world where people are their actions, contained and not a matter of lineage or capital gains. protected from gas. but there's no masking the pain conflict is progress hinging on adaption to change nucleic magnet exchange, damage potential fulfilled psychometric measurements. we've tested their skills now it's finally incoming. it wasn't our intention to kill i'm writing just to talk. i never left them a will let it drop. i've been undercover 70 days, sweating til the coldness breaks and catches ablaze.. only YOU can prevent soviet espionage. Week 12 spotlight match Topic: http://i.imgur.com/ImDKg3h.jpg Deadline on May 17, 2013 Result: Lost via no-show against IamBenT Week 11 spotlight match Topic: http://i.imgur.com/UruyGa9.jpg Posted on May 7, 2013 Result: Beat Frank 5-3 they never understood. i only wanted to build, knowledge fulfilled, often concealed, a philosopher's guild inoperative villagers that cling to their pasts, who pray for better days but never live for a chance to experience a presence in a moment's retention appearance and description never closer to essence than a sense or a sound. stop breathing when it's better to drown many quick to start their sentences non-sequiter bound i tried to make them leave a life, objective as ground silent solipsism. an exercise rejected aloud i wanted to cry. knowing all my prophets will die without an opportunity to conquer their pride Gods also will die, yet their posters claim them wanted: alive embracing tradition, claiming a vision consciously blind tossed to the side. i taught for years my students in solitude which facets of intelligence were crucial to constitute not for truth, or honor. but liberation and choice pray for a voice, scream and rip a lung for saints to anoint it's unfortunate to see. i only wanted to teach an apocryphal breach, til grasshoppers see their options increase no deity or pacifist could promise them peace i only promise a piece. ignorant and honest as priests but limitation served to be the dominant beast tempted by ineptitude and awkward retreat to casualty. to ancestry. to a doctrinal leash common deceits, grandparents and "i gotta" beliefs banished from their village in 2003 walked Europa ever since, a wandering sheik i told them there was life outside, a planet for apes building shiny bullets lit aflame to hatch an escape there's more than this. there has to be. don't panic, relate i'm just another bastard child of passionate faith.. in something else. love and health. i wanted to know. craved knowledge for roses concrete-laiden, blossoming growth bounty on my head, i've since been walking this road they never understood. just stood there watching me go. i can't help you, if you won't let me Week 6 Topic: The Ash Deadline on May 23, 2013 Result: Lost via no-show against Witty Week 4 contender match Topic: "Rumors of War" instrumental Deadline on May 7, 2013 Result: lost via no-show against Mike Wrecka Week 3 Topic: "Losing an illusion makes you wiser than finding a truth." Posted on May 1, 2013 Result: Lost to Pent uP 5-4 lose yourself. lose objectivism, presence and process lose possession. take a second out to treasure the Ontic texture and conscious. essential beyond. eons past neurologic scientific method moronic. it's hand-me-down, a secondhand concept take note. progress without a crisis is nonsense like phoenix wings on the horizon - psychophysic mirages the diplomatics, the doctorates. faith-based political mantras read a story, catch its metaphor, check. mission accomplished strip away an item's counterparts - their name, or their function perceptual substance. the bare possibility to make an assumption timeline, steady percussion, baseline for unfortunate days sex and power are a spirit. flesh is fortune and fame when worlds collide, we share a common core to sustain is it collective or connective? love, endorphins or pain discourses explain: we've covered wisdom's source with a brain unable to accept there's no one scoring our games tradition kicks when an inquiry of origin's raised we'll never reach the point there's nothing more to be gained or is it less to be gained? concealment setting the stage truth is sickness. masked by pride, a dextromethorphan phase what gives a requiem grace? what's essential to fact? how does Being formulate a proper question to ask? we've played telephone with knowledge. only whispers and time will determine how much Truth inside that message survives mystery resides, not in black-or-white insidious lies but the information we digest like biscuits and wine scientific reprise. our logos, superstitions and language knowledge and truthfulness, all an illusion - cynical, anxious rewind, reduce, reconsider. definition and form, your questions presuppose an answer. watch as wisdom is born. another day, another epoche Week 2 Topic: http://i.imgur.com/t1LAz8t.jpg Posted on Feb. 24, 2013 Result: Beat Nigma 6-0 nestle trucks outside your house. hoses, tanks and machines draining life. draining calories and draining for free canned mother earth & sold her for a pocket of paper sew threads while faceless enterprise is rocking a blazer weigh your options, which option is greater? the now or the later? try to sell a Coca-Cola, sans it's ultimate savior Aquatic marine, lagoon, streams, ocean or creek we're lost - promotional greed, yet a blind man knows what he seeks be a hero for the natural, we're waiting for help it's hard when love's symbology starts hating itself how the roses fall, the eagle flies, the river despairs - the molecules are bottled as 'medicinal air' create fictional characters - act like their realistically care they do to us what Mr. Tortoise did to the Hare it's wicked, i feel guilty for destroying the planet everytime i flush the toilet or apply ointment to bandage we feel great when waste dissipates and our houses are clean but shit doesn't disintegrate inside a fountain of dreams i'm a coward it seems. buying Evian and Crystal Geyser to sip advertisements like a microchip designed to encrypt false image to consumerists inside an eclipse looted for our treasure like a pirated ship. I am the disc. yet, knowledge pervades our public. science persists Fiji bottles are a hydrant for our fire, when it's lit fire in a pit - fish fly to the bricks for a comfortable change cigarette lighters, super soakers, one in the same grass seed, oxygen tanks, one in the same we play to survive. far surpassed the love of the game business changed the faces of presumptuous gain our relationships shifted once a single customer came to town on a dolphin with an outrageous request he said, water's dirty and it needs to be fresh so we'll filter it, bottle it, and call it invention i felt mother nature hang a rope and fall in that second spine swollen, face bloated, calm as convention conglomerates make billions on their water-refreshments dolphins were prophets, intellectuals. an honest suggestion but all that's left is profit margin for another investment when humanity leaves riverbeds like cracks in a palm a dolphin won't be worth the leash it's fastened upon. soak it up Week 1 Topic: http://i.imgur.com/5A2d9si.jpg Posted on Feb. 12, 2013 Result: Beat VERITAS 9-0 It never stays the same. a shoreline passing before our very eyes, adapting it's form. before and after the storm caves carved for passionate war. settlers, savages, swords survival strategy - scientific like Socratic reports no allegory, imaginative force. a moment, solitary flash to absorb they say perception is for memory as camera records it's change, chance, choice to stay and grasp for a source we understand. but can't describe once we've established rapport waves lapping ashore. starship silhouettes with shadows aboard waving goodbye to blue skies, hello axial core palm-trees wave back in the breeze, oyster bay, trash and debris but pollution is to humankind what sand is to beach sunny spasm to beams. brown skin Barbie doll, orgasmic release tans and tobacco leaf. death's expensive, cancer is cheap growing so cold-hearted as we bask in it's heat it's a sad world when luxury is passing for peace. when amusement parks and festivals abandon the streets when all that's left is sand at the beach. puff, pass and repeat stairwell to hell, symbolize ye olde Satanic deceit where you're indoctrinated not by prayer, but stamping your feet. time-space manifold. it's a stretch to think reality creased time to stop and reconsider all your active beliefs epistemologies consider us a sponge in the sink soak well and one can suddenly think. parchment and ink shades up, too sunny to blink. water fountains. towers of glass stone paths, salt perfumes our mother. mountains and grass, if power corrupts, hatred frees itself when power collapses it's silver dollar fees to read our hourly masses quantity and quality. practice for a summer night of volleyball matches white powder, wooden porches, whores and hollywood actors beige boulders, burnt spoonfuls of andromeda magnets straying further away. we take collective conscious for granted beach bums boogie-board while prostitutes deposit their taxes lifeguards on walkie talkies like reconnaissance bandits the sands of time are ideology. a cognitive bandage, scratched designs - corporate logos like a modern-day sanskrit there's a logistical crisis that most astronomy brackets like the hatred that accompanies a hostile romantic at every step, frozen phenomenon. photographic, sands of time, whitewashed and warm beneath these watery splashes. It never stays the same. time flies like dragons in heat a stairway leading upwards towards the attic you seek time is change, fiery flames. puff, pass and repeat - we're all castles built to fall apart, like sand at the beach. |
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