Dancing through the snow, with an M-16 by his side, Santas gone mad! So children run and hide!
He'll rape your mother so, rip off papas toes, hang fluffy by the head and scarily laugh ho ho
Oh--Grenades fly, Reindeer die, houses go up in smoke. Santas wife has a knife, right through her fucking throat!
Oh-People die, through the night, boy it aint no joke, Santas homosexual so watch out he might poke!
Running with a knife, he'll chase you through the night, hoping that you'll die by 2 strokes by midnight.
He'll shoot up you whole house, not quiet like a mouse, watch out for his gun-hes surely having fun
Oh--Grenades fly, Reindeer die, houses go up in smoke. Santas wife has a knife, right through her fucking throat!
Oh-People die, through the night, boy it aint no joke, Santas homosexual so watch out he might poke!
Dancing through the snow, Santa wife was a ho, she did it with the elf, who had a big big nose.
Once he got pissed off, and chopped that elves wiener off, he liked it so he said--all elves should be dead!
Oh--Grenades fly, Reindeer die, houses go up in smoke. Santas wife has a knife, right through her fucking throat! Oh-People die, through the night, boy it aint no joke, Santas homosexual so watch out he might poke!
One day Santa Claus, got busy with a ma, fucked her so damn hard, he sent a greeting card
Miss Claus did find out, she started to demand out, untill Santa dick, popped off in her mouth
Oh--Grenades fly, Reindeer die, houses go up in smoke. Santas wife has a knife, right through her fucking throat! Oh-People die, through the night, boy it aint no joke, Santas homosexual so watch out he might poke!
Jail is not sexy, look at Santa and you will see, hes digging up a ditch and hes Bubba's fatest bitch. His death sentence is near, and Santas being queer, but dont you worry kids-its almost new years!
Oh--Grenades fly, Reindeer die, houses go up in smoke. Santas wife has a knife, right through her fucking throat! Oh-People die, through the night, boy it aint no joke, Santas homosexual so watch out he might poke!
It took a sniper man, with a really nice tan, to get the shot that hit the spot that killed that jolly man. Kids they do now cry, for reasons we know why, Santa went to hell, with a hole between his eyes.
12/15/2005
12/13/2005
Chair
I can't stop winning. I cant, I need to buy more and more. I win more cases I buy more things. I buy a chair I wont sit in. A table I will never eat at. A china set I will never use. I buy a gun to keep me safe so that the criminals I save, dont kill me. I need the new shirt and pants to make me feel like a new man. I need it every week. Its like an addiction I cant, nor do I want to stop. Not even God could stop this madness of purchasing. The economy without me would be in shambles.
The cig slowly burned. Smoke filled the room. He grabbed the cig from his mouth and ashed it on the freshly new red carpet. He put his feet up on the table in front of him and kept smoking. The nine mm in his right waved around as he spoke. "Do you know why I am here" he said in his scratchy voice. When your tied down in your favorite dutch wood $150 dollar chair, saying no is easy to say. "I know you do" He said as he waved the gun in my face. He looked like a hobos hobo. His long light brown hair drew away from his hard lived wrinkled face. His dark blue eyes bore into my soul through all the smoke.
The sound of a smoke alarm blaring in the night doesnt make me feel better. Nor does the fact that no one is coming. The sound of being alone drowns out the sound of the smoke alarm. I would ask who he is, but I know who he is. I've seen him before. I just dont remember when or where. I start crying when the smoke dries up my eyes. I start to countdown the people or things I hope love me.
10.God
I only believe because it makes me look good in the community
9.Jesus
I am the hypocrite
8.Mom
Oh I do love her so
7.Brother
What a dumbass
6.Dad
He can fish
5.My girlfriend
She reminds me of my mother
4.My Dog
My dog???
3.My Chair
Its so great and lovely
2.My Money
Need it, want it and should go get it
1.My Style
Mine
This was the wrong day to wear a red outfit. With a gun dancing by your head, you start to remember a million a memories at once. The day dad and I caught my first fish. That night mom burnt the cookies for christmas or the time I duct taped my brother to a tree. My mind cant focus on the thought.
"Dammit, FOCUS!" he said as he slapped my face with the gun. Great, a red mark on my face to match my outfit. The day dad and I pushed the boat in and he fell in the lake or the moment my brother farted so bad during a choir concert that people in the back row fainted. "YOU MADE ME DO IT!" he said loudly. The gun emerges up and he shoots. The bullet cuts through the air and pierces my chest right below the heart. It was just perfectly below so that I would not die but blood would gush out for hours as I grimace in pain.
You wouldnt notice I was shot. My outfit covers it up nicely. "You know who I am and why I am here." he says so confident and relaxed. Between the intense pain and the want to use your hands to cover your wound, you hardly push out an answer of no. Even though I was in pain, my memories kept flooding. The time I made it into the law firm. The first huge paycheck. The day I bought the chair. No one not even I sat in the chair. Not until now at least. The once brown wood chair is covered in my blood. My head has now become like a large weight that my neck struggles to hold up. I remember reading about the poor chinnese child who made my prescious dress shirt.
"Fuck, stupid ass! Think harder!"He screams to me. I remember the kid from first grade I told was the worst kid alive. I remember telling my coworker that nothing could stop me from winning all this money. Except a homeless man who would tie me up. The irony. I keep thinking but my eyes cant stop looking at his. I know him, I have seen him before. I think of going home alone. The nights I sat in my nice expensive apartment decked out with stuff I dont need, drinking a bottle of scotch and crying to myself. Just last night I tried to kill myself. Lucky for me a soliticer called seconds before I cut my wrists.
He points the gun at my head and asks "Do you live to die or do you die to live?" He looks like a blur, and I cant hear him. I would cry but I cant. I cant speak nor move anymore. I pull my head up just high enough to be eye level with the barrel. He slowly pulls the trigger back and I watch in slow motion as the bullet is pushed through the barrel by an explosion. Then finally as the bullet breaks through my eye I finally figure it out.
Who would have thought that God was a homeless man? Not I. I have always lost and now I finally win. I hope the coffee tastes great.
The cig slowly burned. Smoke filled the room. He grabbed the cig from his mouth and ashed it on the freshly new red carpet. He put his feet up on the table in front of him and kept smoking. The nine mm in his right waved around as he spoke. "Do you know why I am here" he said in his scratchy voice. When your tied down in your favorite dutch wood $150 dollar chair, saying no is easy to say. "I know you do" He said as he waved the gun in my face. He looked like a hobos hobo. His long light brown hair drew away from his hard lived wrinkled face. His dark blue eyes bore into my soul through all the smoke.
The sound of a smoke alarm blaring in the night doesnt make me feel better. Nor does the fact that no one is coming. The sound of being alone drowns out the sound of the smoke alarm. I would ask who he is, but I know who he is. I've seen him before. I just dont remember when or where. I start crying when the smoke dries up my eyes. I start to countdown the people or things I hope love me.
10.God
I only believe because it makes me look good in the community
9.Jesus
I am the hypocrite
8.Mom
Oh I do love her so
7.Brother
What a dumbass
6.Dad
He can fish
5.My girlfriend
She reminds me of my mother
4.My Dog
My dog???
3.My Chair
Its so great and lovely
2.My Money
Need it, want it and should go get it
1.My Style
Mine
This was the wrong day to wear a red outfit. With a gun dancing by your head, you start to remember a million a memories at once. The day dad and I caught my first fish. That night mom burnt the cookies for christmas or the time I duct taped my brother to a tree. My mind cant focus on the thought.
"Dammit, FOCUS!" he said as he slapped my face with the gun. Great, a red mark on my face to match my outfit. The day dad and I pushed the boat in and he fell in the lake or the moment my brother farted so bad during a choir concert that people in the back row fainted. "YOU MADE ME DO IT!" he said loudly. The gun emerges up and he shoots. The bullet cuts through the air and pierces my chest right below the heart. It was just perfectly below so that I would not die but blood would gush out for hours as I grimace in pain.
You wouldnt notice I was shot. My outfit covers it up nicely. "You know who I am and why I am here." he says so confident and relaxed. Between the intense pain and the want to use your hands to cover your wound, you hardly push out an answer of no. Even though I was in pain, my memories kept flooding. The time I made it into the law firm. The first huge paycheck. The day I bought the chair. No one not even I sat in the chair. Not until now at least. The once brown wood chair is covered in my blood. My head has now become like a large weight that my neck struggles to hold up. I remember reading about the poor chinnese child who made my prescious dress shirt.
"Fuck, stupid ass! Think harder!"He screams to me. I remember the kid from first grade I told was the worst kid alive. I remember telling my coworker that nothing could stop me from winning all this money. Except a homeless man who would tie me up. The irony. I keep thinking but my eyes cant stop looking at his. I know him, I have seen him before. I think of going home alone. The nights I sat in my nice expensive apartment decked out with stuff I dont need, drinking a bottle of scotch and crying to myself. Just last night I tried to kill myself. Lucky for me a soliticer called seconds before I cut my wrists.
He points the gun at my head and asks "Do you live to die or do you die to live?" He looks like a blur, and I cant hear him. I would cry but I cant. I cant speak nor move anymore. I pull my head up just high enough to be eye level with the barrel. He slowly pulls the trigger back and I watch in slow motion as the bullet is pushed through the barrel by an explosion. Then finally as the bullet breaks through my eye I finally figure it out.
Who would have thought that God was a homeless man? Not I. I have always lost and now I finally win. I hope the coffee tastes great.
Just so you know
Touching your private parts doesnt always mean you are masturbating
Kelly Clarkson is not a good singer/musician
"I dont know" Is not a good answer when someone asks if you have had sex
Just cause you sag your pants doesnt mean you are ghetto
Putting socks in your underwear does make your bulge look bigger and full of lumps
Its all good till your girlfriend whips out a cock bigger than yours
Live with the motto "I draw the line at 49"
Once again-Men smoking light cigs and wearing sandals does not make you look cool
If you brag that your penis is 10 inches its really only 5 inches fully erect
Drinking brand name and only brand name beer means you have no taste
Making up words for no reason does not make you look good at all
Old people should be left alone to die peacfully
Not all drugs are drugs unless they are drugs
Smoking ditchweed will not make you look like a stud
Just because you can bench alot, doesnt mean you can talk shit
Its takes time to give your private areas rug burns
American Africans speak two languages-English and Black English
Dont name your child after a plant
Dont act through life as if it is a sitcom--You will look stupid if you do
Good Charlotte is not a punk band
Dont touch yourself in a crowded area.
Dont eat the yellow snow or the extremely shiny sticky white snow
Wearing socks and only socks does not look good unless you are a girl
Idiots dont know what the word 'enlightened' means
Kelly Clarkson is not a good singer/musician
"I dont know" Is not a good answer when someone asks if you have had sex
Just cause you sag your pants doesnt mean you are ghetto
Putting socks in your underwear does make your bulge look bigger and full of lumps
Its all good till your girlfriend whips out a cock bigger than yours
Live with the motto "I draw the line at 49"
Once again-Men smoking light cigs and wearing sandals does not make you look cool
If you brag that your penis is 10 inches its really only 5 inches fully erect
Drinking brand name and only brand name beer means you have no taste
Making up words for no reason does not make you look good at all
Old people should be left alone to die peacfully
Not all drugs are drugs unless they are drugs
Smoking ditchweed will not make you look like a stud
Just because you can bench alot, doesnt mean you can talk shit
Its takes time to give your private areas rug burns
American Africans speak two languages-English and Black English
Dont name your child after a plant
Dont act through life as if it is a sitcom--You will look stupid if you do
Good Charlotte is not a punk band
Dont touch yourself in a crowded area.
Dont eat the yellow snow or the extremely shiny sticky white snow
Wearing socks and only socks does not look good unless you are a girl
Idiots dont know what the word 'enlightened' means
12/12/2005
ladeda
May we forever condemn slavery but tell our children how good it is to have elves slave for a fat man.
May we pray to God with the intention that he will change our lives, make us richer and rid us from our depression even though we know God will not.
May we drag our feet through as if carrying our cross.
May the old die,and the young live.
May one of our three wishes be a wish for more wishes.
May we one day rape the raper so he will later rape us.
May we guzzle down the liquid from the cup of death.
May we smuggle the drugs of inner freedom over the border of society.
May we reap what we sow.
May we realize that few of us have money in the bank of inner truth.
May the poor drink the spit of wealthy.
May the wealthy eat the poor mans shit.
May the depressed laugh and the others cry.
May we drag our cross across the floor.
May we pray to God with the intention that he will change our lives, make us richer and rid us from our depression even though we know God will not.
May we drag our feet through as if carrying our cross.
May the old die,and the young live.
May one of our three wishes be a wish for more wishes.
May we one day rape the raper so he will later rape us.
May we guzzle down the liquid from the cup of death.
May we smuggle the drugs of inner freedom over the border of society.
May we reap what we sow.
May we realize that few of us have money in the bank of inner truth.
May the poor drink the spit of wealthy.
May the wealthy eat the poor mans shit.
May the depressed laugh and the others cry.
May we drag our cross across the floor.
12/11/2005
every seed matters
DEAD AIR... dont breathe me in says: Hey
The Prophet your mother warned you about says: what do u know
DEAD AIR... says: everything
The Prophet says: really would you care to elaborate
DEAD AIR... says: i know what your boy did last night.
The Prophet says: what was that
DEAD AIR... says: he was with me
The Prophet says: i see
DEAD AIR... says: so where were you?
The Prophet says: when
DEAD AIR... says: last night
The Prophet says: around
DEAD AIR... says: hmm
DEAD AIR... says: you know this is all hypothetically fictional
The Prophet says: what is
DEAD AIR... says: my name
The Prophet says: of course
The Prophet says: so is every ones religion
DEAD AIR... says: do you ever think that this is just something some one made up a long time ago to make us think we're safe?
The Prophet says: i think the moon landing was staged
DEAD AIR... says: it pretty much was
DEAD AIR... says: the shadow was in the wrong spot
The Prophet says: elvis and jfk and rfk and john lennon are still alive
DEAD AIR... says: where are they?
DEAD AIR... says: i would marry lennon if i could.
The Prophet says: in an abandoned fallout shelter
DEAD AIR... says: lets find them
The Prophet says: have fun
DEAD AIR... says: haha
DEAD AIR... says: so what have you been up to?
The Prophet says: creative destruction
DEAD AIR... says: would YOU care to elaborate?
The Prophet says: i am waiting for the second coming
DEAD AIR... says: brb
The Prophet says: and putting the fun back in funeral
DEAD AIR... says: hey thats my job..
DEAD AIR... says: but a nuerse just came by... so i'll be away for a while
The Prophet says: dont get injected... they do random involuntary government tests now
DEAD AIR... says: haha
DEAD AIR... says: i spend the night in the hospital
DEAD AIR... dont breathe me in says:(too late)
The Prophet your mother warned you about says: doomed i tell you
yep... she got skullfucked and didnt even know it... she pretty much got skullraped
The Prophet your mother warned you about says: what do u know
DEAD AIR... says: everything
The Prophet says: really would you care to elaborate
DEAD AIR... says: i know what your boy did last night.
The Prophet says: what was that
DEAD AIR... says: he was with me
The Prophet says: i see
DEAD AIR... says: so where were you?
The Prophet says: when
DEAD AIR... says: last night
The Prophet says: around
DEAD AIR... says: hmm
DEAD AIR... says: you know this is all hypothetically fictional
The Prophet says: what is
DEAD AIR... says: my name
The Prophet says: of course
The Prophet says: so is every ones religion
DEAD AIR... says: do you ever think that this is just something some one made up a long time ago to make us think we're safe?
The Prophet says: i think the moon landing was staged
DEAD AIR... says: it pretty much was
DEAD AIR... says: the shadow was in the wrong spot
The Prophet says: elvis and jfk and rfk and john lennon are still alive
DEAD AIR... says: where are they?
DEAD AIR... says: i would marry lennon if i could.
The Prophet says: in an abandoned fallout shelter
DEAD AIR... says: lets find them
The Prophet says: have fun
DEAD AIR... says: haha
DEAD AIR... says: so what have you been up to?
The Prophet says: creative destruction
DEAD AIR... says: would YOU care to elaborate?
The Prophet says: i am waiting for the second coming
DEAD AIR... says: brb
The Prophet says: and putting the fun back in funeral
DEAD AIR... says: hey thats my job..
DEAD AIR... says: but a nuerse just came by... so i'll be away for a while
The Prophet says: dont get injected... they do random involuntary government tests now
DEAD AIR... says: haha
DEAD AIR... says: i spend the night in the hospital
DEAD AIR... dont breathe me in says:(too late)
The Prophet your mother warned you about says: doomed i tell you
yep... she got skullfucked and didnt even know it... she pretty much got skullraped
12/06/2005
Blade of nothingness
With a knife to your throat, you can only wish that a clean swipe will end this wasteful thing you call your life. You naturally grab the blade and try to pull it away. The blade is just pressed hard to cut a little bit of your throat, just to warn that one wrong move meant death. Before the blade swipes across your throat piercing your jugular and sending you straight to the floor in your own pool of blood, you begin to think. Who was that red head you met?
Before the blade moves, your mind traces back to the day you were born. Suddenly you remember stuff you could not remember when you were two. You remember the feel of your mothers vagina as latex covered hands grabbed your head and you pulled out. Suddenly a flash of a women with red hair appears in your memories. You remember your mother crying but not knowing why.
You start to remember the first day you spoke and the words you tried to say. Then you remember the first book you read. At that time, Hustler, with a few sticky pages was a great read. Again a flash of a women with red hair appears in your memories. You remember your red haired mother drunk off her ass slapping you for not brining her your money from your piggy bank.
Memories of you acomplishing things in school. A grade A in history a B in Science and an A+ in Health. You remember coming home to your mother getting anal fucked by a big fat black man while she sucks the town rich fucks dick clean. Again a flash of a women with red hair appears in your memories. You remember coming home at the ripe age of 15 to your mother naked. She was sitting on the couch with bottles of booze all over the floor. You remember her asking you "You wanna fuck your hot ma?"
You remember how many days and weeks you spent thinking of the plan to clean up your life. You remember coming to your mother baking cookies. You stood by the kitchen entry naked wearing hair net and holding a silenced pistol in your crossed arms. You remember raping your mother and taking the pistol to her face. You remember the blood splattering on the couch. You remember the bits of pieces of her head flying out all over. Again a flash of a women with red hair appears in your memories.You rember dragging your mothers naked carcuss and cutting into smaller pieces. Each piece you took and boiled at exteme temperatures till nothing was there anymore. You remember taking her jaw and bashing it into small pieces and sprinkling into the many pots you cooked. You remember cleaning the gun and driving a hundred miles to bury it. You remember cleaining the house several times over.
You remember the cops coming after you called and reported her missing. You remember the questions they asked. you remember them not finding her. You remember the day you gained faith in God.Again a flash of a women with red hair appears in your memories. You remember the day you lost faith and the day you got it back. You remember your first girlfriend and your last girlfriend. You remember growing older, getting smarter and poorer.
The blade is piece of metal sharpened just right to slice a hopeless beings head off. Again a flash of a women with red hair appears in your memories.You ask the knife holder to at least let you see who it is. The person drags you over to a mirror in your lonely apartment room. The person is revealed. The red hair flows down the neck of your angel. Again a flash of a women with red hair appears in your memories. Before you know it, everything is black and empty just like you remembered.
Before the blade moves, your mind traces back to the day you were born. Suddenly you remember stuff you could not remember when you were two. You remember the feel of your mothers vagina as latex covered hands grabbed your head and you pulled out. Suddenly a flash of a women with red hair appears in your memories. You remember your mother crying but not knowing why.
You start to remember the first day you spoke and the words you tried to say. Then you remember the first book you read. At that time, Hustler, with a few sticky pages was a great read. Again a flash of a women with red hair appears in your memories. You remember your red haired mother drunk off her ass slapping you for not brining her your money from your piggy bank.
Memories of you acomplishing things in school. A grade A in history a B in Science and an A+ in Health. You remember coming home to your mother getting anal fucked by a big fat black man while she sucks the town rich fucks dick clean. Again a flash of a women with red hair appears in your memories. You remember coming home at the ripe age of 15 to your mother naked. She was sitting on the couch with bottles of booze all over the floor. You remember her asking you "You wanna fuck your hot ma?"
You remember how many days and weeks you spent thinking of the plan to clean up your life. You remember coming to your mother baking cookies. You stood by the kitchen entry naked wearing hair net and holding a silenced pistol in your crossed arms. You remember raping your mother and taking the pistol to her face. You remember the blood splattering on the couch. You remember the bits of pieces of her head flying out all over. Again a flash of a women with red hair appears in your memories.You rember dragging your mothers naked carcuss and cutting into smaller pieces. Each piece you took and boiled at exteme temperatures till nothing was there anymore. You remember taking her jaw and bashing it into small pieces and sprinkling into the many pots you cooked. You remember cleaning the gun and driving a hundred miles to bury it. You remember cleaining the house several times over.
You remember the cops coming after you called and reported her missing. You remember the questions they asked. you remember them not finding her. You remember the day you gained faith in God.Again a flash of a women with red hair appears in your memories. You remember the day you lost faith and the day you got it back. You remember your first girlfriend and your last girlfriend. You remember growing older, getting smarter and poorer.
The blade is piece of metal sharpened just right to slice a hopeless beings head off. Again a flash of a women with red hair appears in your memories.You ask the knife holder to at least let you see who it is. The person drags you over to a mirror in your lonely apartment room. The person is revealed. The red hair flows down the neck of your angel. Again a flash of a women with red hair appears in your memories. Before you know it, everything is black and empty just like you remembered.
11/22/2005
Payback
Payback is girlfriend who is a bitch who sleeps with your best friends mothers moms house cleaning uncle of a son of an apartment building empire mogul.
11/11/2005
The Tree
Screams echoed in his head. Memories of the life of no point.
He started his beat up Toyota two seater. Just like his life had, the Toyota started terribly. He sat in the drivers seat, put his hands on the steering wheel, and put his head down in his arms and cried.
Just like his Toyota, he too was beat up. His wrist scarred and his neck torn by rope. The abuse and deciet sat within him. The pain of all his troubles within him consumed his every thought.
He took his calisted hand and shifted the Toyota into drive. He looked into his rear-view mirror. There he saw who he was. A man in a pitch dark pit looking for the ladder of hope.
His foot pounded down the gas pedal. today was the day he would end it all. The speedomete reached beyond half-way. Everything around him was a blur. He could make out a tree getting closer and closer.
He then looked back into his mirror. What he say was not him. It was when he was happy. Suddenly he was back in the pitch dark pit. In this pit, he saw a light beaming on the ladder. He climbed the ladder. And as he climbed the ladder, there he saw just above him, was a big tree. The tree just sat there swaying in the wind. There it was, lush leaves and above it the beautiful blue sky as he had never seen it before. There it was, everything he wanted in life. He took his eyes off the mirror and slammed the breaks. He hit the tree and flew through the windshild. his body pierced through the windshield as if breaking free from a prison.
His body crashed to the ground. Laying there with blood all over him, he looked back at the tree. He saw the tree standing tall as the fiery truck lit it up. He smiled a bloody smile. A smile that hurt, not because he was severely dismantlyed, but because it was the first time in years his muscles ever made that movement.
He coughed his last cough, although bloody it was beautiful. It was the first time and the last time he was ever happy. He shut his eyes and finally, he reached the end of the ladder.
He started his beat up Toyota two seater. Just like his life had, the Toyota started terribly. He sat in the drivers seat, put his hands on the steering wheel, and put his head down in his arms and cried.
Just like his Toyota, he too was beat up. His wrist scarred and his neck torn by rope. The abuse and deciet sat within him. The pain of all his troubles within him consumed his every thought.
He took his calisted hand and shifted the Toyota into drive. He looked into his rear-view mirror. There he saw who he was. A man in a pitch dark pit looking for the ladder of hope.
His foot pounded down the gas pedal. today was the day he would end it all. The speedomete reached beyond half-way. Everything around him was a blur. He could make out a tree getting closer and closer.
He then looked back into his mirror. What he say was not him. It was when he was happy. Suddenly he was back in the pitch dark pit. In this pit, he saw a light beaming on the ladder. He climbed the ladder. And as he climbed the ladder, there he saw just above him, was a big tree. The tree just sat there swaying in the wind. There it was, lush leaves and above it the beautiful blue sky as he had never seen it before. There it was, everything he wanted in life. He took his eyes off the mirror and slammed the breaks. He hit the tree and flew through the windshild. his body pierced through the windshield as if breaking free from a prison.
His body crashed to the ground. Laying there with blood all over him, he looked back at the tree. He saw the tree standing tall as the fiery truck lit it up. He smiled a bloody smile. A smile that hurt, not because he was severely dismantlyed, but because it was the first time in years his muscles ever made that movement.
He coughed his last cough, although bloody it was beautiful. It was the first time and the last time he was ever happy. He shut his eyes and finally, he reached the end of the ladder.
11/03/2005
Bad media parents
He walked into the school with his 9mm. He walked down the hall with pointing the gun and unloaded round upon round into kids he once. His best friend-boom-clean between the eyes. His girlfriend-boom- blast in the forhead. 12 kids died by his gun. His last bullet, went right into his to his through lower jaw. The blood and remnants of his brain splattered on the locker behind. His body jolted back to the wall of lockers and collapsed. Blood squirted out like cartoons. his body lay afloat in his own pool of blood.
Police and Emts unloaded the bodies. Mothers came from home or work to morn the lose of their lost offspring. Fathers dropped promotions to mourn for their lost generation. Who would continue the family name? Sisters and Brothers came running crying from their last classes. Parents and children, who had no relations with the dead, cried. Everyone mourned for them. They all cried in pain for the lost children.
Everyone started asking questions. Why would he do this? How could this happen? They asked and asked. Police started to pull information. The boy lived in a family were he got no love and they just watched as he did what he wanted. His parents would always tell him he was no good, that he was a waste of sperm and egg in the way that they acted around him. They treated him poorly. His friends teased him constantly and his girlfriend dumped him cause he wasn't cool enough. The boy had played violent video games. They then pointed the finger at the maker of the game. The parents cried as they pointed at the media for destroying their son.
TV denied and pointed the finger at the game makers. The game makers watched as parents picketed outside their work. Everyone pointed fingers at them. The psychologists pointed at them saying "studies prove that violent video games give children more aggression.." Everyone jumped the boat to blame the game makers.
Where were the parents? Everyone always wants to blame the media, but what happened to pareenting? The video games added to what the parents cooked. The media is just a small indgrident that everyone wants to blame. No one wants to say the parents were terrible. They gave him no love. He had no family just a boy with nothing.
Police and Emts unloaded the bodies. Mothers came from home or work to morn the lose of their lost offspring. Fathers dropped promotions to mourn for their lost generation. Who would continue the family name? Sisters and Brothers came running crying from their last classes. Parents and children, who had no relations with the dead, cried. Everyone mourned for them. They all cried in pain for the lost children.
Everyone started asking questions. Why would he do this? How could this happen? They asked and asked. Police started to pull information. The boy lived in a family were he got no love and they just watched as he did what he wanted. His parents would always tell him he was no good, that he was a waste of sperm and egg in the way that they acted around him. They treated him poorly. His friends teased him constantly and his girlfriend dumped him cause he wasn't cool enough. The boy had played violent video games. They then pointed the finger at the maker of the game. The parents cried as they pointed at the media for destroying their son.
TV denied and pointed the finger at the game makers. The game makers watched as parents picketed outside their work. Everyone pointed fingers at them. The psychologists pointed at them saying "studies prove that violent video games give children more aggression.." Everyone jumped the boat to blame the game makers.
Where were the parents? Everyone always wants to blame the media, but what happened to pareenting? The video games added to what the parents cooked. The media is just a small indgrident that everyone wants to blame. No one wants to say the parents were terrible. They gave him no love. He had no family just a boy with nothing.
10/27/2005
If it could not, could it?
If we had no teeth, could we eat?
If we hand no fingers, could we feel?
If we had no tongue, could we taste?
If we had no eyes, could we see?
If we had no ears, could we listen?
If we Had no mouth, could we talk?
If we had no legs, could we walk?
If we had no brain, could we know?
If we had no church, could we believe?
If we had no gender identification, could we reproduce?
If we had no feelings, could we love?
If we had no tears, could we cry?
If we had no independce, could we depend?
If we had no take, could we have toke?
If Jesus had not died, could we be saved?
If we dont jump, could we be caught?
If we dont seek it, could it be sought?
If we had no question, could we have an answer?
If we had no name, could we identified?
If retards were not born, could we be alive?
If there was no way out, could there be a way in?
If we hand no fingers, could we feel?
If we had no tongue, could we taste?
If we had no eyes, could we see?
If we had no ears, could we listen?
If we Had no mouth, could we talk?
If we had no legs, could we walk?
If we had no brain, could we know?
If we had no church, could we believe?
If we had no gender identification, could we reproduce?
If we had no feelings, could we love?
If we had no tears, could we cry?
If we had no independce, could we depend?
If we had no take, could we have toke?
If Jesus had not died, could we be saved?
If we dont jump, could we be caught?
If we dont seek it, could it be sought?
If we had no question, could we have an answer?
If we had no name, could we identified?
If retards were not born, could we be alive?
If there was no way out, could there be a way in?
10/21/2005
middle of nowhere
you cant walk far enough
the motor will die before you reach
mother will call before you breach it
The water will dry before you can make it
The season will end
you try to go where no one has gone before
you look up
you look down
you turn your head around
yet you cant see what you feel
the eyes of your soul cant show you
you stand on it everyday
you have found what was lost
only know it is lost but not found
for the middle of nowhere is where you are inside
the motor will die before you reach
mother will call before you breach it
The water will dry before you can make it
The season will end
you try to go where no one has gone before
you look up
you look down
you turn your head around
yet you cant see what you feel
the eyes of your soul cant show you
you stand on it everyday
you have found what was lost
only know it is lost but not found
for the middle of nowhere is where you are inside
10/19/2005
"The Perfect Drug"
I got my head but my head is unraveling
cant keep control can't keep track of where it's traveling
I got my heart but my heart's no good
you're the only one that's understood
I come along but I don't know where you're taking me
I shouldn't go but you're wrenching dragging shaking me
turn off the sun pull the stars from the sky
the more I give to you the more I die
and I want you
you are the perfect drug
the perfect drug
the perfect drug
the perfect drug
you make me hard when i'm all soft inside
I see the truth when i'm all stupid-eyed
the arrow goes straight through my heart
without you everything just falls apart
my blood just wants to say hello to you
my fear is warm to get inside of you
my soul is so afraid to realize
how every little bit is left of me
take me with youwithout you everything just falls apart
it's not as much fun to pick up the pieces
cant keep control can't keep track of where it's traveling
I got my heart but my heart's no good
you're the only one that's understood
I come along but I don't know where you're taking me
I shouldn't go but you're wrenching dragging shaking me
turn off the sun pull the stars from the sky
the more I give to you the more I die
and I want you
you are the perfect drug
the perfect drug
the perfect drug
the perfect drug
you make me hard when i'm all soft inside
I see the truth when i'm all stupid-eyed
the arrow goes straight through my heart
without you everything just falls apart
my blood just wants to say hello to you
my fear is warm to get inside of you
my soul is so afraid to realize
how every little bit is left of me
take me with youwithout you everything just falls apart
it's not as much fun to pick up the pieces
10/18/2005
Bombs
You dont have to light it
You dont have to fuse it
It already lit
You might want to run
Its ready to blow
It could knock a whole town out
Or blow a small hole
No matter what you will still get burned
Its bomb that came undetected
It was brought from everywhere
You just better watch it
I am ready to exlode.
You dont have to fuse it
It already lit
You might want to run
Its ready to blow
It could knock a whole town out
Or blow a small hole
No matter what you will still get burned
Its bomb that came undetected
It was brought from everywhere
You just better watch it
I am ready to exlode.
Water Pills
Your hands reach just above the wave
The water, the hour, its wasting you away
You gasp for air, but you know its the end of your day
Wake up to the pain of life
Sleep to the sounds of pains
Wake up pop a pill
Wake up again, pop more pills
One more pill to go to sleep
Two more pills to dull the pain
Three more pills to make it go away
The container to make life go with it
Gasp for air
Plumit back under
Inhale the water
Count to three
Watch as dark engulfs the light
Watch as the surface gets farther away
Wake up to do it again
The water, the hour, its wasting you away
You gasp for air, but you know its the end of your day
Wake up to the pain of life
Sleep to the sounds of pains
Wake up pop a pill
Wake up again, pop more pills
One more pill to go to sleep
Two more pills to dull the pain
Three more pills to make it go away
The container to make life go with it
Gasp for air
Plumit back under
Inhale the water
Count to three
Watch as dark engulfs the light
Watch as the surface gets farther away
Wake up to do it again
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