you see it was hard for me when my school mates were just in my voices in my head
and my dad and mum gave me carers, for me to do things with, and i can relate to maggie here, cause i wanted everything, i wanted to go everywhere, but it was the
cost of the ****** petrol, i look at this episode, and i view it from the eyes of maggie
because, i wanted to be cool, and i still wanna be cool, but having carers were good
and some carers were religious freaks, some carers, shown me the dangers about the man i used to like to be, and some carers wanted to show me a good time, or how to be an organised adult and some carers wanted to be on the community together, i like most of the carers i like, but there are a few rich arrogant *******, and also i had to pay money for my carers, ya know petrol, one carer, tristan, who reminded me of my brother
and patrick, took me on a holiday to merimbula, i paid for the petrol and my share
but we had a wonderful time, actually i learnt from tristan, about meditation, which i later
found out it was buddhist meditation and i believe in that, and he was a musician, and
i went to see his band at the *** belly, and i enjoyed that, he told me to eat vegetables
raw, he was a bit of a health freak, but i liked him, because, he inspired me, to love life
and he inspired to help my mate the messiah, in the same way, but, inspiration is a funny thing, i shouldn't try and be like other people, you should be yourself, but tristan was giving me stuff i have never done, a holiday with someone other than mum or dad
and later i took the messiah to merimbula, and i watched the pigs perform, not real
pigs, the music band the pigs, yeah, i felt like tristan in a way, but i really should be myself, as hannah montana, don't let anyone tell you that your not strong enough
just be yourself, and nothing bad will happen, you see one carer, who i will not mention
his name, tried to joke with me, by leaving me at revolve, but he didn't, and i had 2 crazy christians, a Y leader, and many more, this made dad and mum relax a bit, but mum and dad, were worried my past, is coming back to me, but what is wrong with looking young
or trying to look young, now, i have the same people clean my house, for me, i help, by making it easier for them, no i am a lazy person, when it comes to housework, but
i am a great community worker, this episode shows when arthur paid maggie to look after her, and i accepted carers after a few years of arguing with them, and keeping
pats voice in my head, until i behaved, i liked patrician and he was no carer, but he was as
nice as a carer, but tristan was a great carer, and he reminded me of pat's nice natiure
and he reminded me of my brother, in his music tastes, and occasionally his manners
with the adults, there is nothing with having carers, no matter what is your problem

but the messiah gave me a mate, behind the scenes, cause, he was nice to me
i need carers, only for housework help, and occasional shopping, and the NDIS might
help me with future goals, like helping the homeless at common ground
maggie beare is like me i am afraid to say, but not really, i am creative enough
to rid the stupidness out of my body

In praise of Eliza, Queen of the Shepherds


See where she sits upon the grassie greene,
        (O seemely sight!)
Yclad in Scarlot, like a mayden Queene,
        And ermines white:
Upon her head a Cremosin coronet
With Damaske roses and Daffadillies set:
        Bay leaves betweene,
        And primroses greene,
Embellish the sweete Violet.

Tell me, have ye seene her angelick face
        Like Phoebe fayre?
Her heavenly haveour, her princely grace,
        Can you well compare?
The Redde rose medled with the White yfere,
In either cheeke depeincten lively chere:
        Her modest eye,
        Her Majestie,
Where have you seene the like but there?

I see Calliope speede her to the place,
        Where my Goddesse shines;
And after her the other Muses trace
        With their Violines.
Bene they not Bay braunches which they do beare,
All for Elisa in her hand to weare?
        So sweetely they play,
        And sing all the way,
That it a heaven is to heare.

Lo, how finely the Graces can it foote
        To the Instrument:
They dauncen deffly, and singen soote,
        In their meriment.
Wants not a fourth Grace to make the daunce even?
Let that rowme to my Lady be yeven.
        She shal be a Grace,
        To fyll the fourth place,
And reigne with the rest in heaven.

Bring hether the Pincke and purple Cullambine,
        With Gelliflowres;
Bring Coronations, and Sops-in-wine
        Worne of Paramoures:
Strowe me the ground with Daffadowndillies,
And Cowslips, and Kingcups, and lovèd Lillies:
        The pretie Pawnce,
        And the Chevisaunce,
Shall match with the fayre flowre Delice.

Now ryse up, Elisa, deckèd as thou art
        In royall aray;
And now ye daintie Damsells may depart
        Eche one her way.
I feare I have troubled your troupes to longe:
Let dame Elisa thanke you for her song:
        And if you come hether
        When Damsines I gether,
I will part them all you among.

I presse not to the Quire, nor dare I greet
The holy Place with my unhallow’d feet:
My unwasht Muse pollutes not things Divine,
Nor mingles her prophaner notes with thine;
Here, humbly at the Porch, she listning stayes,
And with glad eares ***** in thy Sacred Layes.
So, devout Penitents of old were wont,
Some without doore, and some beneath the Font,
To stand and heare the Churches Liturgies,
Yet not assist the solemne Exercise.
Sufficeth her, that she a Lay-place gaine,
To trim thy Vestments, or but beare thy traine:
Though nor in Tune, nor Wing, She reach thy Larke,
Her Lyricke feet may dance before the Arke.
Who knowes, but that Her wandring eyes, that run
Now hunting Glow-wormes, may adore the Sun.
A pure Flame may, shot by Almighty Power
Into my brest, the earthy flame devoure:
My Eyes, in Penitentiall dew may steepe
That bryne, which they for sensuall love did weepe:
So (though ‘gainst Natures course) fire may be quencht
With fire, and water be with water drencht.
Perhaps, my restlesse Soule, tyr’d with pursuit
Of mortall beautie, seeking without fruit
Contentment there; which hath not, when enjoy’d,
Quencht all her thirst, nor satisfi’d, though cloy’d;
Weary of her vaine search below, above
In the first Faire may find th’ immortall Love.
Prompted by thy Example then, no more
In moulds of Clay will I my God adore;
But teare those Idols from my Heart, and Write
What his blest Sp’rit, not fond Love, shall endite.
Then, I no more shall court the Verdant Bay,
But the dry leavelesse Trunk on Golgotha:
And rather strive to gaine from thence one Thorne,
Then all the flourishing Wreathes by Laureats worne.

“delete history”
I think it’s pretty gay for a bunch of sweaty queers
To be sharing spit w/ each other
In a ******* closet
I think my ***** smells like macaroni
I used to ******* to animals beign tortured
I used to tell my mom
Im not pretty
Im not pretty
throw rocks at your garage
"BAAAMMM"
It’s hard to come up with 4 things at once,
I want to play violin in a bathtub at 4 AM
Because 4am’s cool
And it’s not really night or morning
It’s just stinky
Im just a kid with their stinky feet on a splintered stool
Watching suite life of zack and cody
In a pair of boxers they/i haven’t changed for like 3 days
I have a bic pen bumper sticker tattoo on my ***
You made me **** your **** and feed your bunny
And you made me hate white boys
I generalize
I forget to feed my tortoise sometimes
I don’t forget to feed myself
Im not cool and skinny and white
Im fat and
I never forget to feed myself
I eat the stuff on my body
Im my own **** tree I beare my own fruits I think you
Should get used to how GROSS I am
I got heartburn
In all the wrong places
I got an ache below the waist
and a cold sore on my heart