#thefuture
sometimes
I'm afraid no one
will ever love me again
truly,
not because of
who I am, or why I work
or if I'm a good
person or a bad one
sometimes
I question
who could love me
as someone
with a nonconforming
gender identity
I'm afraid no one
will ever love that part
of me again
Feb 16
Feb 16, 2026 at 6:04 PM UTC
Courts, inspectors general, and internal DOJ and HHS reports were very explicit about this distinction. That is why the administration lost repeatedly in court. The paper trail showed:
• separation was a policy choice dictated & demanded by Trump
• tracking systems were not ever built before implementation
• agencies were warned and shown in advance this was legally wrong and would "cause undue suffering and utter chaos."
• Key G.O.P. leadership was heartlessly forced to proceed anyway
So when Trump blames Democrats, he is not disputing facts. He is changing categories mid sentence to make his guilt and accountability diminish.
That is the trick. Not evidence. Not correction. Just statistical sleight of hand and conflation of unrelated events and numbers.
It was his order that happened on his watch . Period.
Those separations were intentional, ordered, and publicly defended by his administration. That is the group Judge Sabraw dealt with, and the one where the government admitted it could not reliably track or reunite these families.
The court case that blew the whole thing open was overseen by Judge Dana Sabraw, a federal judge in California. Sabraw was the one who ordered the government to reunite the children with their parents and then basically went, what the hell is this mess, because DOJ, DHS, and HHS could not even agree on who had which kid for how long who they even were or most importantly ,
WHERE .
Because of that dumpster fire, the government had to admit under oath that:
• There was no centralized tracking system not even a plan for one
• Agencies were not sharing or even creating records
• Kids were relabeled as “unaccompanied minors” once separated
• They could only account for about 900 parents at first. Parents that had documentation, many of which were legal United States citizens and were actively looking for their missing children.
That is where the over 2700 missing children number really comes from.
Other names tied into the ***** up, depending on how deep you want to go:
• Kirstjen Nielsen – Secretary of Homeland Security
• Alex Azar – Secretary of Health and Human Services
• John Kelly – Chief of Staff, helped design the policy earlier
• Stephen Miller – policy architect, the ghoul in the corner
But if you are naming the guys, the headline name, the one with the official DOJ weight behind it, the courtroom gravity, and the biblical justifications?
Jeff Sessions and Donald John Trump .....
When DOJ, DHS, and HHS were forced back into court and documentation was demanded, they could only locate records for about 900 children under the age of 18.
Most were around the ages of five to nine years old.
But the list DOES include infants, including those less than six months.
Many were literally forced into cages.
With nothing but those foil blankets for " comfort".
Even if the parents were guilty of a crime, other than Trumps new criminalization of " not having white skin " no child deserves that.
Ever.
Now ask yourself, what would you do if that were your kids and your family?
Dec 24, 2025
Dec 24, 2025 at 2:23 AM UTC
One Direction’s music is like molten rotted snot poured into the sewn-open third eye of the last few real artists.
Except that would be far too original for them. or any boy band.
More like a metrosexual LGBTQRsTUV unicorn ******* hot Harry Potter-Twilight glitter on the cast of High School Musical, busy reenacting 2 Girls 1 Cup ad infinitum
and somehow managing to ruin that too ,
The internet collapses ...
Michael Jackson
endless Super Bowl halftime show molestation nightmares still played daily on the radio..
Corpulent period blood dripping rejected flag girl Katy Perry rocket-cat vomits neon cactus Skittles into OUR tortured ear canals.
Post Malone
Kindergarten prison tattoos , his own face
even more
with a used ***** shaped like Trump
Kathleen Kennedy orgasmically throttles a twerking Dave Filoni cowboy-hat-wearing velociraptor
across the corpse-strewn Hollywood sex-dungeon set of
every Disney Channel **** remake ever masturbationally imagined,
laughing in Lil Wayne autotuned Top 40 perfection.
The ever present Hackneyed trailer-park **** goddess Tay Tay the airbrushed
levitates above it all with her latest braindead steroid love toy, in an oozing unfettered RFK Jr. STD glitter storm of unlicensed Chinese sweatshop labor TikTok dances.
And no one is home to raise little Johnny who is making all this possible although he has no
standards ,
no reference
no respect
and no education
but he does have 48 thousand subscribers for his feet videos on you tube......
" the futures so bright I gotta wear shades' Indeed.
The same Republican family values. machine that markets poison and PRISON life as “culture” are the ones
with lobbyist rubber stamping. the corpo laws,
buying the anti abortion judges,
and deciding when Little Johnny gets to rot in a cell for stepping out of line.
We are in a fascist culture
built on corporate bribery
pretending to be holier than thou collection plate morality.
You can feel the contradiction breathing the people who bankroll the
Enron,
Gloldman Sachs rot
walk free in tailored suits,
while the ones caught in the wreckage get branded for life as doomed to minimum wage criminals.
And the worst part? They’ve managed to sell that arrangement as "JUSTICE " and ignore our truths with "hate speech " labels.
Oct 15, 2025
Oct 15, 2025 at 5:03 AM UTC
The clouds exude tears as a sign of God's sorrow.
For the fate of mankind in the hands of the morrow.
For mankind's heart has grow callused;
With his eyes set on greed.
Forsaking God's goodness
For all his lustful needs.
All the while the earth moans and it groans.
As mankind's heart is compared with the hardness of stone.
Consumed and devoured by the lusts of the flesh.
An expulsion of THE LORD;
A refusal to mesh.
Disease and strife have set in -
A move oh so bold.
As mankind grows more distant,
Isolated and cold.
And the skies continue to weep as man struggles to fight.
Darkness envelops the lands -
Darkness blots out the light.
Will the battle be fought?
Will mankind ever win?
Will the skies clear up
As man conquers his sin?
May he lay down his sin -
Then turn face and run.
Then may THE LORD show him mercy
And unveil THE SUN!
May the harsh weather of sin
Finally be cleared.
So that mankind's unclear future
Have no need to be feared.
Jan 16, 2021
Jan 16, 2021 at 6:06 AM UTC
Place to place, person to person
Each and every moment.
A second, a minute
An hour, always more.
The continuous stream of instances,
From start to end, however droll,
However wondrous, NEVER THE SAME.
A life is but an amalgam of the countless 'present'
An ever-reaching macro experience.
Moments will come that shake one's very core,
A 'hurt' so great, it may break you down.
Other times will heal the wounds,
Accentuate every breath,
Burst forth unto many, a joyous light,
A giddy warmth, seeping into the surrounding
Fractal filaments of space;
A kaleidoscopic haze, spontaneously shifted,
Made anew, in crystal clear focus.
For all the highs and lows, living holds meaning.
Each breath, each glance
Every step or touch
There is worth to be found.
Another moment felt, another memory kept.
Born we are without option,
Better now to 'choose' to find purpose
Dec 2, 2019
Dec 2, 2019 at 12:38 AM UTC
I was travelling along a busy road-
Eyes opened and closed.
I had music in my ears so loud that
I could hear the sound of
Ringing with every note.
Way out of the window,
I raced the ****** train to Scotland
Up a dual carriageway and felt rapid
Time dispel all notions of
Going nowhere in life.
Without warning my world was jolted and
Came to a stand still.
We were in motion but
I was trapped and uncomfortable as
I remembered that yesterday,
In your thoughtful, rash way,
You texted me from a tent in Leeds
Telling me that
It was over.
Grass looked so much greener on the other side
Of the glass, yet I was
Unable to let go of the past.
I thought to myself
'This is not how I planned my life would turn out'
At least, not today.
It hit me that I can
Never plan to be happy because
On the days I plan to be happy I will
Think of this moment and
Be sad.
Earth seems out of tune as
I lose the race through thoughts of you and
Begin to
Hate my favourite songs;
I love you.
I should have known better.
I can't decide whether to
Live my life and jump onto the train ahead or to
Jump in front of it.
I'm sorry I wasn't enough and
I could never be
No matter how hard
I tried.
I'm in a traffic jam now.
I watch the sun become eclipsed by the clouds and
I wish you were
Here.
Aug 26, 2018
Aug 26, 2018 at 8:46 AM UTC
Is there something wrong with you?
Are you okay?
What happened to you, Lina?
You seem depressed.
Where is your strength and determination?
Why do you sleep so much?
Get up and do some work.
I work several hours a day.
You don't see me complaining.
I feel perfectly fine. Perfect.
Maybe you should try to be too.
Be perfect, Lina.
Be perfect, just like me.
Stop wearing that dark eye makeup, and listening to that horrid music.
You only get one shot at life.
You need to make the most of it.
Stop lying around and wasting your days away.
You aren't gonna get anywhere.
Stop devoting yourself to those stories, music, and those god ****** angst poems.
Stop spending your time writing that ******** in a world where people that get degrees, succeed.
And stop picking at your lips and chewing your nails.
It's disgusting.
I don't care if you think it helps or calms you down.
It looks disgusting.
You're ruining your lips like you're ruining your life.
My lips are perfect.
Smooth and glossy, like the hair that sits upon my perfect head.
Why are you so far down?
You need to be up here.
Maybe listening is some kind of crime to you.
Otherwise, you would have listened to the billionth time I told you to stop picking at your lips!
Stop picking your lips like some kind of garbage.
You cannot be garbage.
You have to be perfect.
Be perfect. Just like me.
Stop telling me how you feel.
Because you need to be perfect.
Pay attention.
Stop daydreaming and staring up at the sky.
Like the clouds are supposed to give you all of your life's answers.
Because it won't.
Because your life is a mess, just like your lips.
Cracked and broken.
****** and red.
Stop writing Lina.
Stop wasting your life away.
No, I don't hate you.
No, I'm not mad at you.
I'm just trying to help you.
Trying to set you up for a bright future.
Trying to let you be successful.
You have to let me love you so you can be perfect.
Perfect.
Just like me.
Jul 12, 2017
Jul 12, 2017 at 7:50 PM UTC
Young: dreaming
of impossible possibilities
Unrestrained, untethered from reality
Unaware of the ticking, of the passing
of the seconds, of the hours,
of the years to the end
of eternity.
Climbing
Climbing and
Clinging
to the hope that one can dream forever
and as the feet are swinging
the child, fearless of pain, fearless of the fall, is ever
naive, and never expecting
that one day the dream may end.
For what was once a child is a child no longer
Mature: daydreaming
of the past, yet troubled of the future
Unfeatherd, grounded in reality
All too aware of the arching clock hands
and the hours that turn into seconds
and the days that pass into years
begin to fade into
oblivion.
Falling
Falling and
Failing
to realize that the feet now rest upon the ground
and the child that was once fearless, is fearing
the depths of a future not yet found
forever doubtful yet hoping
To continue to dream at day’s end.
What was gained was equally lost
And with this knowledge in hand
The child finally stands
Holding on to the dreams of tomorrow
Grasping the fantasies of yesterday
Indeed, what once was can never be again
To march forward never to return
What awaits are only questions, what remains are only “ifs”
But what stands tall is neither a realist nor a dreamer
What stands is a child no longer
May 8, 2017
May 8, 2017 at 6:04 PM UTC
The Future to me is Walking Toasters and Cars that glide and go faster than roller coaster
No more big screens nothing but virtual TVs & invisible gun holsters Art Displays still magnificence in portable posters.
Images and pictures are no longer created by hand
they are simply imagined then transferred to an electrical canvas through the movement of sand.
Homes are bought with credits in the digital lands all types of music played together with the mystical hands Medley's majestically moving the fans
No more war or hate just peace by command it’s amazing to see the future in conceptual hands, emotional bangs and physical hangs dominated by the extraterrestrial man.
The future is no place for a regular man a scholar must know mathematics and formulas to simply understand love as a feeling and how it stands.
Vagabond walkers on the side of the technological wastelands
everything that's trash is thrown in biological waste cans then mutated among each other to create bands.
Oct 19, 2016
Oct 19, 2016 at 11:32 AM UTC
Everyone always talks about it, marches blindly toward it
with its hopeful and bright days but what does the future,
the expected child of history, mean? Is it hidden in the next
sentence? In the shadow of tomorrow? A year, two, three
from now? And yeah, everyone always thinks about it,
makes plans and to-do lists for it, waits for the ease to come,
for the hardship to pass, for the bullets, like hummingbirds,
to stop flying but when I get there, will I be safe? Will the sun
rise for me? Will the crickets sing and stop as I pass them
on the street? When I get there, will my wife be safe?
Will the sun rise for her? Will the crickets sing and stop
as she passes them on the street? When I get there, will our
children be safe? With their fair skin and brown eyes? Or
will the bullets, like hummingbirds, continue to fly? I can
picture it now: driving home on the stretch of interstate
between work and home on a Friday evening, content with
the will of the week, eager to share what joys and concerns
revealed themselves within the seconds of my day, the lake a
floor of blue covered in diamonds bobbing in my peripheral,
when over the radio a journalist reports another unarmed
Black body was murdered by those trained to serve
and protect the future.
Sep 23, 2016
Sep 23, 2016 at 6:59 PM UTC
It's strange to ponder about just what brought this revelation about.
They key now swings silently around my neck.
Lulling the air about into a mirage of sorts.
Yet as I frantically rub my eyes for clarity.
The image stayed vibrant and resilent.
Although it seemed to have aged in the time since I first looked upon it.
Claw like marks gouged the frame.
It seems to have been reforged.
With blood and steel.
Giving it a cold and bitter demeanor.
Yet as I place my hand on the weathered scars.
Am I filled with a roaring zeal.
I bellow a battle cry that reverberates through time itself.
This typhoon of emotion surrounds my senses.
Dizzy from the constant swirling and repetitive motions.
I pray for a salvation that still seems so far off.
But giving up now would bare no fruit.
So I greet it with a smile and a reinvigorated rage.
And await the moment that the calm calls for such renown.
Jan 4, 2016
Jan 4, 2016 at 12:18 PM UTC
We Met In The 80's.
We Fell Inlove.
We've Reached
The Present.
i Saw You
From A Distance.
You Glazed Into
My Eyes.
i Glazed Into Yours ,
Hoping That
The Memories
We Had Built
Together,
Would Appear
To Your Thoughts
Once Again.
But You Walk Away.
You Probably
Don't Remember Me
Anymore.
i.
Still.
Do.
Jun 24, 2015
Jun 24, 2015 at 6:40 AM UTC
It’s the year two thousand fifteen
It’s been a while
It’s been a while since we started counting
It’s been a while since we thought this would be the future
A future of amazing things
Like flying machines for each of us
And colonies on other planets
Maybe a visitor too
But nothing’s changed
Hate is the same
Poverty is the same
War is the same
Conquest is the same
Power is the same
Abuse is the same
And still heaven remains silent
While we imagine a world away from all of this
A world that may not be here for a while
The same while that we have already waited
For this year
Maybe that's the problem
Maybe we shouldn't wait
Waiting is nihilism
Maybe we should do something instead
Something that has been with us
All the while
Something like love
Or peace
Or forgiveness
Or empathy
Or love
Love
Jan 5, 2015
Jan 5, 2015 at 1:48 PM UTC
Change is constant
Even when we have lost it
Our souls, our bodies
No longer clinging to meaningless hobbies
The only thing guaranteed
In a world full of greed
All warnings we did not heed
Taking without need
Corrupted images destroying self esteem
We should be working as a team
To undo the damage
Of the rich man's rampage
Stealing resources
Wars on false pretenses
Thinking about the future makes me tense
So many of my friends already have their mind set
"Having a family, that's what's best"
Why would I want to bring another life into this
An innocent soul
You're supposed to protect
shape
and mold
Truth be told
I am not that bold
Although your hand I would love to hold
I dare not bring another fragile human into a world so cold
May 16, 2014
May 16, 2014 at 1:26 PM UTC