People don't seem to want to accept that their actions have reactions. Others only seem to have feelings when it's most convenient for you. When will you realize; you are not important, you do not matter, you are a speck on the ass of the universe, and the planets do not sway to your awesome might.
The golden rule is golden for a reason, and it's not because you keep it in your grandmother's jewelry box. Although I hold this rule close to my heart, I can't help but give people thier just dues. I am a strong believer of capital punishment.
I despise selfish folk."For God's sake, when will you grow up and take responsibility for your actions? Who woulda thunk that mean things could hurt."
Comfort does not come standard in the package of life, it is a privilage, one that most people abuse. One never truly loves the life they have until it's shattered. Tread through this world deserving nothing, and appreciating everything. Own up to your actions as well, because everything you do has a consequence. If you don't accept the blame, then you're just putting it on someone else.
And the moral of this story kids: Don't be a bitch.
Monday, March 30, 2009
Sunday, March 22, 2009
"If Six Was Nine"
"I'm the one that's gonna die when it's time for me to die/So let me live my life the way I want to."~Jimmi Hendrix
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
The Life You Choose
In western cultures, if you were to ask someone where they see themselves ten years from now, most would say that they'll be in a better position than they are today. In some eastern cultures, you ask the same question and they reply that they'll be doing the same thing they are now.
Maybe we weren't all cut out to raise a family. Some people live in the same town their whole lives. Some work at the same job for 50 years. Some people just get up and go to work, and one day they just don't get up anymore. They leave behind not even the slightest legacy, they become a fading memory. Some people simply die alone. And that's ok. In the end we're all dying alone. Some of us are just doing it while others are watching.
Maybe we weren't all cut out to raise a family. Some people live in the same town their whole lives. Some work at the same job for 50 years. Some people just get up and go to work, and one day they just don't get up anymore. They leave behind not even the slightest legacy, they become a fading memory. Some people simply die alone. And that's ok. In the end we're all dying alone. Some of us are just doing it while others are watching.
The Rythm We Live By
A man dies.
She leaves the hall light on.
He curses the clock and the traffic.
They say their prayers.
She picks rice one grain at a time.
He lights up another one.
They pull their hoods on.
She finally says no.
He sweats more today than yesterday.
They take their rings off.
She swerves a near miss.
He kisses freedom goodbye.
They watch the plane take off.
She takes a deep breath.
He doesn't say a word.
They fill up another bag.
She slides in the car.
He writes a song.
They still keep it a secret.
She gives them up.
He steals a glance.
They cheer unconditionally.
She steps off the edge.
He blows out the candles.
They get out of control.
A man dies.
And the world doesn't miss a beat.
She leaves the hall light on.
He curses the clock and the traffic.
They say their prayers.
She picks rice one grain at a time.
He lights up another one.
They pull their hoods on.
She finally says no.
He sweats more today than yesterday.
They take their rings off.
She swerves a near miss.
He kisses freedom goodbye.
They watch the plane take off.
She takes a deep breath.
He doesn't say a word.
They fill up another bag.
She slides in the car.
He writes a song.
They still keep it a secret.
She gives them up.
He steals a glance.
They cheer unconditionally.
She steps off the edge.
He blows out the candles.
They get out of control.
A man dies.
And the world doesn't miss a beat.
Sunday, March 15, 2009
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
I have Felt the Burn in My Throat
Many times has the sweet liquor perfumed the evening and kissed me goodnight, tucking in the worries, laying them to rest.
And often has the stinking aroma blanketed my troubled thoughts in a cloud, making reality irrelevant.
Both suffice in perverting my world in a weird contortion,
more than normal.
I sympathize more to the lonely drunkard than the lone smoker.
The difference lies in their motives, which coincidentally, are very similar.
Raised by the bottle and ruled by the haze.
I have always persecuted the former and defended the latter, and to my deepest regret.
Both unnecessary evils, yet both necessities in my life.
My preferences reveal what I am still afraid to accept, but it will take just as long to tear down the walls as it did to erect them, turning my back on the architect and looking towards the demolisher.
Can the cause be the cure if there is no cure? Does this explain why I justify it?
I'm just trying to see the world through their eyes.
Maybe then I can understand why they did it.
And often has the stinking aroma blanketed my troubled thoughts in a cloud, making reality irrelevant.
Both suffice in perverting my world in a weird contortion,
more than normal.
I sympathize more to the lonely drunkard than the lone smoker.
The difference lies in their motives, which coincidentally, are very similar.
Raised by the bottle and ruled by the haze.
I have always persecuted the former and defended the latter, and to my deepest regret.
Both unnecessary evils, yet both necessities in my life.
My preferences reveal what I am still afraid to accept, but it will take just as long to tear down the walls as it did to erect them, turning my back on the architect and looking towards the demolisher.
Can the cause be the cure if there is no cure? Does this explain why I justify it?
I'm just trying to see the world through their eyes.
Maybe then I can understand why they did it.
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
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