cognitivetatum

I have written all my life. Just recently I have decided to share it all. Why the hell not. At 24 years of age I figure...if I'm going to open my mouth, its gonna start spewing the shit I write in my solitude. And alas - Channeling these writings through the internet is fuckin' therapeutic.


tallyho? tatum, tatum, tatum... to tear away the thread of this terrible tyrant, taking talents and tears and tirades, would take away time from the true tellings that toiled our titillating thoughts so long. time and time told a tale, though never tearing away from the truth. the truth could only tell the truth, and a lie, would teach us difference. tales slipped trivially into tragedy, that then tainted tongues that tied themselves. thick in the trembled heart, the ticking and tocking took away my tribulations. the faith i grew to trust, trouble disconnected, thawed a cold take, by familiar tidings. through the throne, and past the tits, the eye that you see will speak on its own. tactful indeed, though a tid bit far from traditional. thankfully, you may call me tatum.