"antibiotics" poems
dedicated to all the better poets here...
don't know much about a quatrain
don't know how to write a refrain,
surely could not compose a
courtyard elegy
maybe after
and still untilled,
I been buried,
'n checked out
the neighborhood competition...
as for limerick,
that is Dr. Seuss
and Ogden Nash's shtick
with whom, eye,
a believed descendant,
cannot compete...
Oh dear me,
no ode node-ed within,
as for a pastoral,
kinda hard to feat,
where I live,
a pastoral is grass cracks
surviving under,
breaking through to the other side
of concrete and blacktop rulers
Maybe one of you
will haiku,
send us a senryu,
send off, see ya!
the doc once diagnosed
a severe case of inflamed iambic pentametery,
with antibiotics and a diet of Hamletery,
was cured most satisfactorily
this silly pen-man-sinking-ship
ain't capable of dat,
boy how 'bout
an epitaph
for a graveyard stone,
should be plenty of room...
as it will be plenty short...
all eye see and all eye know
is vignettes that birth in me
walking down the street,
that's my bread and butter,
my soul's delicacies...
and moments that recorded
here, for a posteriored posterity,
as noted in my all my living
testaments,
drinking and spilling the vin,
from the uninvented igniting vignettes
that consecrate and connect our
knowing each other though odds are
we will never meet...we can yet
drink together
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Don't know much about the French I took.
But I do know that I love you,
And I know that if you love me, too,
What a wonderful world this would be."
May 3, 2015
May 3, 2015 at 7:50 AM UTC
can you ***** my finger and measure the dopamine in my veins? collect my teardrops and tell me if i'm going to be okay? can you light up the darkness with magical pills?
decide if i'm too sad to go to school?
can you tell me if i'm just being melodramatic? measure my blood pressure, maybe that will work. write me a prescription for 5 Happy Days in a row, and 3 hugs from Someone I Love.
doctor, doctor
i'm not feeling well today
doctor, doctor
i don't know if i should stay
sadness isn't a sickness, but it's infected my mind. can you write me some antibiotics to get them out in time?
sadness isn't sickness, but i think i might've caught something from doing a little too much of Having No Friends. don't you know how much i've been Laying In Bed?
sadness isn't sickness, but i think i'm coming down
doctor, doctor
i've got a severe case of the I Don't Want To Lives
can you write me a prescription?
make it go away?
doctor, doctor
you've let me down this time
doctor, doctor
i'm not in my prime
can you tell that i'm not healthy?
'cause i don't think you can
oh, sadness isn't sickness,
but it's fatal,
if all goes according to plan
Sep 19, 2014
Sep 19, 2014 at 2:07 AM UTC
Hunting has a noble heritage, for sure
Bringing us together, it forged a species
Keen-eyed, communicative, feared by the fierce
So who am I to begrudge you your sport?
I, too, love wide open skies, tramping over bog and fen,
I even quite like dogs!
I imagine nature might reveal herself to you
In signs jealously guarded from the armchair carnivore.
I can almost reconcile your harsh percussion
With the croak of the raven, the sloshing tide
And the chewing and mooing of cattle.
But the pheasant! For the love of God, the pheasant?
It can hardly be a battle of wits!
I've seen him as he sits, a big, red bullseye
On fences and *****
Startled by every day he survives.
How stirring can it be,
Picking off the ones the cars and lorries never got?
When you carry him home,
Better off dead,
Hang him in your garage for a week
Feeling like Henry VIII,
Cut him down, slit him open and find the crop
Stuffed not with heather shoots and beetles
But with half a pound of store-bought grain
(Generously laced with antibiotics) -
I hope the realisation creeps up
That you may as well have asserted yourself
In the hen coop,
Blasting away at befuddled poultry
And saving yourself a walk.
Nov 24, 2010
Nov 24, 2010 at 1:33 AM UTC
Strep throat. Out of nowhere really. I went to a meeting on Friday, interviewed at PaperSource on Saturday afternoon, and then just slightly later an awful toothache. I never suspected anything so out of the ordinary to occur. Saturday night, two to four a.m.ish, i thought it was caffeine pills, or not drinking enough water, or even, worst of the worst, an attack of hypochondria. I kept lighting up Marlboros though, tasty red branded things that make writer's mouths happy. Two days in and I'm pretty sure my ***** are a fever below my body, droopy like snoopy. Super soft droopy ***** that's a sure sign of a fever or a great BJ they taught us in 6th grade science, and I wasn't getting my favorite ice cream social.
I hadn't talked to the gf in a couple days, and missing her company I made the phone call only discover that my voice had turned into a baby turtle shouting English from the bottom of a stuffed baked potato. Garbled. Discussing. Useless. I promptly hung up, and began texting. But it was too late she heard me and called back, and I had to give it all I had to put together a few words.
An hour later I was dropped off at the ER, the benefits of Medicaid at 30 is never being able to just go to the doctor's office. Within 2 hours they told me it was strep. Four nurses, two residents, one first day resident, and a 2nd year resident, and the ER doctor for a swab and a spray, and the take home Z-pack.
Then she said she'd come over even though I was sick. That's real love. "If I get sick from you, it's still worth it." 3 days on antibiotics, no more sore throat, I feel great- I think tomorrow I'll be having an ice cream social for someone who I love dearly. Maybe we'll even skip the ice cream.
Jun 26, 2014
Jun 26, 2014 at 9:24 AM UTC
Preventing contamination,
A constant challenge in cell culture.
Contamination not only affects,
The culture in question and,
Costs time and money,
But also endangers the reproducibility of results.
No cell culture problem,
Is as universal as that of culture loss
Due to contamination.
Generally, contamination may be separated,
Into categories of microbial,
And eukaryotic contamination.
Examples of microbial contamination include:
Bacteria (including Mycoplasma),
Fungi and yeast;
Eukaryotic contamination includes:
Cross-contamination with other cell lines.
Bacteria, yeast and fungi,
The three more common types of contamination,
But luckily these forms are often detectable,
Under the microscope and,
By visual cues,
Like colour or turbidity changes in the medium.
Mycoplasma is a small genus of bacteria,
That lack a cell wall and for this reason,
They remain unaffected by common antibiotics.
They are also difficult to detect,
With standard microscopes,
Due to their size, about 0.1 μm in diameter,
And the fact that they often attach to host cells.
To prevent contamination,
Use 70% ethanol for disinfecting,
Equipment & surfaces,
Related to cell culture.
Sterile filter the media first,
Before bringing to the lab.
Fetal Bovine Serum,
A potential source of contamination,
Contains mycoplasma.
Filter it at 0.1 μm, or,
Gamma irradiate it.
Aseptic technique,
Necessary.
The laboratory workers be the last,
But not the least source of contamination.
Teach them the ideal laboratory practices,
To ensure asepticity in a laboratory.
Dec 6, 2016
Dec 6, 2016 at 9:02 PM UTC
My sympathy depleted
My friendships deleted
I have been defeated
By truths that hit so hard
I was decleated
By intense hatred deep-seeded
My history was repeated
I guess a three-armed mutant
Has no need for a right hand man
Until his leprosy riddled hands rot off
When he needs them the most
But his ***** limbs had been pretty useless for a while
Since he had lost feeling in them
He had to do a biopsy on his life
After the inaccurate results of the smear test
He took antibiotics to rid himself of the bacteria
But that didn't heal the nerve damage
He yearned for the rhetoric to be less inflammatory
So he took steroids
Transforming the ***** into an ogre
With no semblance of humanity
...Except for the people he devours
Their patience is delicious
He eats that first
Their pity is a delicacy
A rare treat
Their disgust tastes sour
But it's a feast
His cannibalism may seem callous
But the non-mutant lepers take Thalidomide
And get pregnant
Their kids come out defected
With an intense, deep-seeded hatred for three-armed mutants
And lepers and ogres look exactly the same
To those of another species
Jun 29, 2017
Jun 29, 2017 at 5:51 PM UTC
Sick
Painful
Congested
Sinus Pressure
Up all night coughing
Losing sleep til morning
Next day many body aches
Off to Urgent Care I go
Ear infection diagnosed
On antibiotics
Going home to rest
Feeling better
Coughing less
Smiling
Well
~Miguel
Oct 29, 2014
Oct 29, 2014 at 7:36 PM UTC
young love disgusts me
like an infected cow’s mammary gland
your milk is full of antibiotics and ****
you drink it
you like it, want more of it
it wants more of you
but it’s really just making you sick
although nobody really tells you that
you just drink the milk, easily satisfied
until it makes your way through the digestive tract and destroys your newly infected insides
Feb 27, 2014
Feb 27, 2014 at 1:36 AM UTC
In the dark of night, in the middle of a storm
A dish falls, shatters
A shriek tears the relative silence
Pale pink blood blossoms in the water
While rich red blood wells up in the hand
Tears falling like a blinding waterfall
Stabs and throbs of aching stinging searing pain
Blood and pain and tears fill the mind
A flash of white tissue beneath the torrents of red
Panting sobs and hyperventilation
Panicking as victim is rushed to the ER
Mother tries to comfort daughter with story of healed,
Previously lacerated toes
Two words blurted between gasps of pain: NOT HELPING
Arrive to an empty lobby, excepting a nurse and receptionist
Focus on nothing, only the hand
The possible tendon torn, the skin shredded, the blood spilt
Dishtowel now soaking red irony fluid instead of clear soapy
The story repeated 6, 7, 8 times
A nurse asks if I smoke or drink
A radiologist asks if there is any chance for pregnancy
And for a moment I am shocked out of my pain into pondering
The corruption of the modern generations,
Such that I am asked these questions
Any friend of mine would quickly tell that
No, I'm not that kind of teenager... but how many are?
Then I am whisked from the x-ray room
Off for stitches, they say my tendon is cut
That I need stitches
The fingers no longer gush, but that triviality is soon remedied
A doctor probes the wound for shards
Nurse flushes it clean with chlorohexadine
Both renew the flow
Doctor returns, stitches both fingers and chats away
Grand tally of five stitches, a splint, blankets of guaze,
And a roll of medical tape
Prescriptions for pain meds and antibiotics, both given
A scoffing glance, but instructions are followed
Forbidden from any activity with the right hand by my mother
I struggle even to write, simple chores soon a nuisance
First time the splint and stitches are gone,
Doctor number two declares my hand usable
First time the little finger bends, the half healed skin splits
So all for a plate, a hand was rendered more useless
Nov 13, 2012
Nov 13, 2012 at 10:07 PM UTC
My philosophy as I drive down the road
I don't feel bad if I don't feel it under my tires
That means I step on spiders
Swat mosquitoes
Take antibiotics
Life is not created equal
When we live atop an ever shifting puzzle
Where the value of life
Is dependent on the ability to take life
A virus's sole purpose is to attack host cells and reproduce
So is our's
I guess we'll see who kills who first
Trees get larger trunks
Animals get larger teeth
Humans get larger guns
And as those guns hold our hopes
Humanity holds the hopes for all organisms
To one day transcend competition
But in the meantime
I'm worried about the cracks in the road
Because I can feel them shifting under my tires
But there is cement on my wheels
And on the vehicles around me
We pave this road we travel on
Until the cement runs dry
And our vessel dies
For newer improved cars to continue
On the freeway to transcendence
Aug 3, 2017
Aug 3, 2017 at 2:16 AM UTC
a child
unassembled
and loved
by two
strange
women-
a man breastfeeding in private-
this love
only a mother
could face-
overexposed photos
of a healthy
family-
a gathering
of bird watching
great
uncles-
great
blind
aunts / with empty
pill
syndrome-
a prayer basket in the lap of a boy
sitting on a swing
during
a downpour-
a disabled brother
and his three
rubber
nails
Jun 3, 2013
Jun 3, 2013 at 12:21 PM UTC
<•>
For A:
The Pleasure of Infection
10:53 pm
our all about
is to be the whittler of our personage,
to both hold the knife with care,
but with risky, reckless artistry,
as we shape of what raw materials we are possessed,
into our own reshaped, reformed
most prized bejeweled possession
never mind the shavings and cutaways fallen,
they are fast away, castaway choices made and cannot be retrieved,
for when we whittle, whether our shape desired
which may be prior envisioned or a vision
from the discovery of performing,
they matter no more,
let them go, in their absence too,
they are part and a whit of you,
but not of you, no longer
our commonality in this: everything,
in everything else, so little
but your honesty and crafted, almost dishonesty both ring true,
and infect us with pleasure of recalling
when we
being cut designed and preparing our statue for
an unveiling, but with no date yet set,
and the loveliness of our mistakes,
were precious do-over opportunities
seek out the infection, the infection of discovery,
the risk of pleasure exposed and
your poetry may be either
the antibiotics
when the result is red and unpleasant,
or a celebration,
an invitation to us to be a
semi-silent beholder of your artistry
infections heal after pain and discoloration
but new skin always forms,
but at a different pace for each of us
I see the faces in my carpet nodding agreement,
"always new skin"
oh boy. time to go to bed
go seek out the pleasure of infection,
sadly, happily, it is the only way
good night
from an old man who dreams and schemes of
new skin nightly
but never mind me,
my piece long ago writ
and in need of just a tweak here and there,
call it one too many close shavings,
his poem's treasure trove,
a list
of life's minor irritations
and major lifts
<•>
11:16pm
Jul 17, 2017
Jul 17, 2017 at 11:36 PM UTC
"Fitter Happier"
"more productive
comfortable
not drinking too much
regular exercise at the gym (3 days a week)
getting on better with your associate employee contemporaries
at ease
eating well (no more microwave dinners and saturated fats)
a patient better driver
a safer car (baby smiling in back seat)
sleeping well (no bad dreams)
no paranoia
careful to all animals (never washing spiders down the plughole)
keep in contact with old friends (enjoy a drink now and then)
will frequently check credit at (moral) bank (hole in wall)
favours for favours
fond but not in love
charity standing orders
on sundays ring road supermarket
(no killing moths or putting boiling water on the ants)
car wash (also on sundays)
no longer afraid of the dark
or midday shadows
nothing so ridiculously teenage and desperate
nothing so childish
at a better pace
slower and more calculated
no chance of escape
now self-employed
concerned (but powerless)
an empowered and informed member of society (pragmatism not idealism)
will not cry in public
less chance of illness
tires that grip in the wet (shot of baby strapped in back seat)
a good memory
still cries at a good film
still kisses with saliva
no longer empty and frantic
like a cat
tied to a stick
that's driven into
frozen winter **** (the ability to laugh at weakness)
calm
fitter, healthier and more productive
a pig
in a cage
on antibiotics"
- A song by Radiohead. I did not write this.
Oct 29, 2013
Oct 29, 2013 at 11:31 PM UTC
first woke up 8:23
went back to bed
(oh so hungover)
woke again 9:30, rubbed my eyes then
drank 2 ½ glasses water/puked. felt slightly better
but not perfect so
sat down on the couch in the dark
blinds closed
and read a book
(desolation angels - kerouac)
until my headache [sorta] cleared.
drank ¾ cup orange juice to take w/medication, antibiotics
(just got my wisdom teeth pulled)
and one tab oxycodone.
stopped reading (couldn't say why ... )
then sat lotus on the table by the window
writing/picked up jon's banjo n thought up
a neat (simple) roll, played classical guitar too
---watching girls.
did that til i got bored, or the girls stopped
walkin' by (1 of the 2)
so i washed dishes for the fellas
grabbed a longboard from by the door
rode over to the LCBO for some beers,
passed the ShortStop on the way back and got an Arizona
to have w/my Romeo y Giulietta on the tour home.
when i got back jon was up
(wearing a blanket)
making scrambled eggs --- heavy on the onions,
using all the dishes i just washed..
Nov 19, 2011
Nov 19, 2011 at 5:25 PM UTC
Antibiotics may be the greatest discovery of human kind.
Lord knows its saved our soul many of times!
Its halo can be seen in a petri dish.
In the smiles of children on hospital wards.
But antibiotics aren't just drugs, or are you my drug?
Because your halo is keeping bad things away from me, my petri dish is clean!
Yet, the goodness is seeping from my bones and I get weaker with every day that I'm in love with you.
To my antibiotic, resistance is futile but finishing the course might **** me.
Oct 2, 2017
Oct 2, 2017 at 3:07 PM UTC
Months have passed since I last seen your face,
Touched your skin, the scent of your lovely purfume,
Oh my, how I have longed for my lips to meet your once more...
But I pinky promise myself No More,
The aches and pains seem to supress day by day as I take leaps forward,
Staying occupied and savoring the moments in My life,
which seems to be the antibiotics to this so called "Heart Break,"
I made new friends and new potential lovers and you see me.
You contact me to make conversation to keep me at arms length once more,
But burn me once shame on you, burn me twice shame on me,
You will not deceive me again, to leave me broken hearted once more,
Medusa, I see through your stone cold eyes,
I have worked to hard and made a promise I tend to keep,
I tell you everything is fine, which it is since I have learned to live again without you.
The love I had for you once upon a time is no more,
But I will say this I Will keep the wisdom you have given me,
I thank you for pushing me towards being a stronger person and lover,
I just hope that what you did was worth it to you,
As I give you words of advice I tell you,
"Dont treat your next as your last,
Or you will have no problem repeating the past,"
I see tears running from your eyes,
As I can see the regret in them,
As our eyes meet our lips meet once more,
and you smile,
The last words you heard from me as you watched my back this time around was,
"I'm sorry, please take care of yourself but, No More."
{RP}
Nov 25, 2013
Nov 25, 2013 at 4:27 AM UTC
Why does nobody do anything?
Why does nobody do anything?
Live for the weekend
Watch TV
Live for the weekend
Watch TV
Out on the town for the weekend
Watch TV Watch TV
Why does nobody do anything?
Why does nobody do anything?
Escape into your escapism
Get lost in your escapism
Trust in your escapism
Get trapped into escapism
Escape from your escapism
Escape from your self made prison
Escape the acceptance that's arisen
Why does nobody do anything?
Why does nobody do anything?
We're
Drones Robotics
Clones on antibiotics
Zoned hypnotic
Habitually ******
Artificially exotic
Why does nobody do anything?
Why does nobody do anything?
You're watching your *** life on Tv
A package holiday - pretend to be free
Post on Facebook how life should be
Focus your kids on getting a C
Lurching towards you - Hollow eyes
Pale Gaunt - Fed on lies
In systems that we all despise
Because you sat at home on your own
Or In a pub over grub
Or on a phone having a moan
Or a coffee shop pontificating
Or a lecture cleverly debating
Or an artists studio 'creating'
But you didn't ******* do anything did you?
You thought about it
You talked about it
You sat and maybe wrote about it
But you actually DID nought about it
Why does nobody do anything?
Why does nobody do anything?
What if we in our liberal pomposity
Followed up our curiosity
And put an end to a small atrocity
Instead of deliberating the big ones
Stop ******* telling people they're wrong and get off your **** and prove it.
Do something.
May 26, 2016
May 26, 2016 at 7:38 AM UTC
Legislators of social stigmatization
hand out identity before child birth,
reluctantly judged by your pigmentation,
you're given a name
and a pew in a church,
assigned to a gender with implications,
while ATM balance determines your worth
Bugs will certainly inherit the Earth
Disguised as your neighborhood
privacy invaders,
cops kick in the door
at your mother's front porch,
enforcing law written by legislators
for a routine seizure and search
Police brutality couldn't mask the depravity
of their warrants nomenclature
Capitalist crusaders terrorize Americans,
but can't keep the bugs
from their Earth inheritance
Men will shroud their evil nature
Malicious intent hides below the glacier
Camouflaged vindictive behavior
is electing dictators across the equator
Truth serenaders lobby for
congressional persuaders
to pardon these murderous
capitalist crusaders,
fitting agendas with tailor made suits,
who infect Mother Earth deep in her roots
Antibiotics couldn't heal or stop this
infection these players gave her
Pray for fire and fury
to burn away worry
when bugs surely crawl from the dirt
to inherit what's left of our Mother Earth
May 8, 2020
May 8, 2020 at 6:30 AM UTC
Cold n cough,cold n cough,
very tough, very tough.
caught on 16th december
Amid cold and thick fog cover.
first made sore throat,
Then made nose tight.
In the night robbed rest,
That led to lose sleep the best.
Tried haldi-milk of grandma
But sleep was still away .
Tried tulsi kwath of mama
that led pass the night anyway.
In the morning nose started
Used the wife's formula of
Warm salty water gurggles
As sun started setting down
Cold n cough again grown.
Amid this called to daughter
She advised to go to a doctor.
Doc gave antibiotics n advised rest,
O my god what a bad taste.
You made recall four generations ,
You're great for those nice reasons.
Lack of sleep led introspection
That led scanning thought congestion
That is why thanks for coming,
For the reasons of my inner cleaning.
Forced to wear coat n jackets
Paving the way for hot snack- packets
Reminded me to stop sour & curd
Start milk ,cheese and bread.
One week surrendered to you,
But still I owe a lot of you.
Dress well and eat warm .
You would be whole year in form.
Dec 20, 2018
Dec 20, 2018 at 4:39 AM UTC
Bottles of water, gallons of gas, blankets,
dried beans, rice. Use cash, don’t spend it all
in one place, two, or three. Unload supplies
quietly into the basement, maybe at night.
Mail-order a hand-cranked radio, solar lamps,
seeds. Buy Q-tips, kerosene, candles. Books,
downloadable music, seasons of X-Files on DVD.
What’s important?
Have friends bring you antibiotics from Tijuana.
Buy vitamins, batteries. Tuna, salt, barley.
Sweep the chimney. Get new shoes.
Get that cavity filled.
Stock up on bourbon and bullets.
Acquire trade goods –
cigarettes, wine, marijuana.
Watch the news, read the blogs,
find time for target practice.
Keep cash on hand. Don’t forget
dog food. Think about God.
Hurry.
Oct 28, 2011
Oct 28, 2011 at 10:10 PM UTC
We are a slew of
antibiotics, genetically-modified foods, preservatives and dyes.
Our bodies contain everything that doesn't exist in nature.
No wonder why our grades are freefalling along with our pitiful economy.
We blindly invest in the pollution of our food supply and environment by wolfing down Twinkies and Doritos.
I implore you to eat what your grandma considers as food.
Not Pop-Tarts. Fruit Gushers or Swiss Rolls
but produce.
Mar 13, 2014
Mar 13, 2014 at 9:47 PM UTC
pistachio nuts - or the clams of the the forest,
not among the helter skelter
birch tree scouting and marking territory,
but among the aged oaks
and pristine scents of pines among
the fallen pine needles in zigzag promenade -
indeed pistachio nuts like shellfish,
slightly opened ergo healthy -
clams or mussels, once opened then
healthy for the palette - still a bewilderment
to care with a hydrochloric acid cauldron
that the stomach is -
that's the prior bewilderment, the other
being this madonna-whore complex
that Anaïs Nin represents -
i've eaten a prostitute's *** (her own
anatomical definition) - indeed smothered
in creams to ease a professional approach to
a lack of relationship stimulation -
science says that eating the female *** is
like downing a range of antibiotics -
i can imagine - why is she suddenly this hailed
saint of scissors applied to a middle-class
straitjacket? what the hell is going on?
ah... i know, the longer a feeble secret is allowed
to ferment, it goes from being vinegar
to being wine to being a fruity ***** -
well shiver me timbers!
ever walk into a brothel with 7 prostitutes waiting
their bus for £110 an hour and not feel
intimidated asking for a glass of water?
i have... they eye you like hyenas,
a true spirit of solidarity that feminism forgot,
7 prostitutes eyeing you, then you say
'can one of your pick me?'
'you can't say that, it's not allowed!'
'oh, aren't you a talker, you'll do.'
every single brothel i've been too always reminds
me of Jack Daniels - i don't know why,
the burnt auburn sweetness of charcoal or something,
add the skin creams on the ****** smeared
like an insomniac creating a synthetic approach
to sleep with amitriptyline (25mg) and alcohol
and you've just bought yourself a treasure island
crucifix.
Apr 21, 2016
Apr 21, 2016 at 7:43 PM UTC
Here's to nothing;
As always.
Let us toast
To petty jealousy and bitter betrayals
That years nor antibiotics can cure.
Let's drink to wasted memories
and missed opportunties,
and let's get drunk and do it all over again.
Mar 30, 2010
Mar 30, 2010 at 9:11 PM UTC
Hey guys,
I think this is more of a notice than a poem,
But I got let out of the hospital last night after three hours of being on a respiratory machine because I was seriously struggling to breathe without any aid.
All this because I had a severe throat infection that spreaded into my chest and effected my lungs.
All thus just to tell you guys that this could either cause one of two different things.
I could either:
A) be soon taken back into intensive care where the WiFi is horrendous and not be able to make it back on here for the next...while (I don't for sure how long it's going to take for recovery, to be perfectly honest x)
OR
B) I'm going to recover enough to stay at home with several antibiotics to keep the pain bearable and have a nebulizer by my side 24/7 whilst still having a good WiFi signal so I can keep in touch with you guys.
I'm really hoping that optionB will be the one that takes shape because you guys are part of my internet famalam and not being able to hear your lovely work day-to-day will tear me apart the most **
Have a blessed Sunday everyone, love you lots **
Feb 15, 2015
Feb 15, 2015 at 11:42 AM UTC
I don’t care about Religion! Or Antibiotics!
Terror! Embryos! Poetry! None of it!
I don’t care about the Chinese! The Americans!
Christians! Jews! Muslims! Any Nation or Nationality!
I don’t care about you! Or your feelings!
Any other human! Inclusive myself!
I don’t care about freedom or dictatorships.
I don’t care about war or peace.
I don’t care about the pollution. The ozone layer.
The Panda Bear or any other endangered species.
I don’t care about what you are thinking.
Or for that matter what you say.
I don’t care about stupidity or intelligence.
F… arseholes. Clever thinking.
I don’t care about ethics deals or moral principles.
Mass ****** Genocide. Wrong or rights.
I don’t care about the good life or the bad life.
Blind black homeless or shabby white trash.
Don’t care if you can read between the lines or not.
Don’t care if you care or not.
I just don’t care!
It's all so insignificant to the whole
******* Universe!
Aug 7, 2014
Aug 7, 2014 at 8:17 AM UTC