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"emphasizes" poems
With my bobby pin, taken from my hair after volleyball practice, I scrape black resin from a blue bowl It's a rougher Dirtier Hash ball But it loves on your brain just as much And my arms are bruised from passing They could use that numbing forgetfulness That lurks like stupidity In the back of my brain Always The *** just emphasizes it The way gaudy clothes do on a pretty girl That's me too sometimes But I have a mother, Just as you, And she gave me dreamss To live up to A school of science and engineering So...what do you do?
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Jul 19, 2013
Jul 19, 2013 at 1:14 AM UTC
Stoner Moment
Here oh postmodern nihilist the grave awaits your death wish: Life       a          struggle escape it death           so tempting grasp it              and take its era with you: Keep it             away from our church's                                                      our schools                                                                          our civics                                                                                                                                                                                and further culture. Lo, the children black as the hell they die in... Its inordinately subjective unconsciousness; confused emotionally with its ineptitude of reason. Blaming its former God, for their own doing. Wanting to save that world upon themselves left behind from such a rejection. Lest they live in a Christ so unjust. As to not know all men equally, but to judge them--in their distinction. Creation your natural law emphasizes that which we do not want to come to terms with. If only we could make us all inter-dependent biological beings of mechanization. Chain me to genetic determinism and biochemical reactions foremost -- lest my soul affirms inequality:                                                                                   Liberty exulted                                                                                   by the risen Lord: Supremacy/Autonomy © S. Wesley Mcgranor
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Feb 5, 2015
Feb 5, 2015 at 6:51 PM UTC
Here Oh Postmodern Nihilist
Here oh postmodern nihilist the grave awaits your death wish: Life       a          struggle escape it death           so tempting grasp it              and take its era with you: Keep it             away from our church's                                                      our schools                                                                          our civics                                                                                                                                                                                and further culture. Lo, the children black as the hell they die in... Its inordinately subjective unconsciousness; confused emotionally with its ineptitude of reason. Blaming its former God, for their own doing. Wanting to save that world upon themselves left behind from such a rejection. Lest they live in a Christ so unjust. As to not know all men equally, but to judge them--in their distinction. Creation your natural law emphasizes that which we do not want to come to terms with. If only we could make us all inter-dependent biological beings of mechanization. Chain me to genetic determinism and biochemical reactions foremost -- lest my soul affirms inequality:                                                                                   Liberty exulted                                                                                   by the risen Lord: Supremacy/Autonomy © S. Wesley Mcgranor
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36
Gemini are notorious for having “split” personalities, and I am no different. I have two sides of me that are always at war within me. Both the Devil and the Angel within me are trying to influence me, in the form of thoughts running through my head that makes it seem like i'm talking to myself. I emphasizes on the fact that my character is composed into two parts, the ‘angel,’ the one that wants to do good not only for myself but also for others, and also the ‘devil,’ the selfish, more arrogant division in my persona that drives me to do things that’ll make me stray off the path of righteousness. Elena and Katerina, which again connotes the incredible duality and polarity of my character. Even though it seems like they’re almost two different people, they’re most definitely one whole character. My inner good realized what I am doing is dangerous, but my inner demons insist on coming out at night. When I say “not closing the curtains”, im showing the real dark half of myself.
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Jul 24, 2018
Jul 24, 2018 at 4:12 PM UTC
Split Right Down The Middle Like There's Two Of Me
White shoelaces tied carefully, clothes ironed straight, not a strand of hair in his face, private school and Christian home. His momma packed him PB&J.; She said, "Son, don't hang with the wrong kind of kids, the ones sitting in the back of the classroom who wear words on their necks and black every Sunday." And she puts a napkin in his lunchbox and reminds him to wash his hands. And she prays for him to find cleanliness, and she checks the internet history every day while he finishes homework and practices piano. She tells him, "Son, don't let those celebrities with their drugs and their ***** words influence you." And she emphasizes "man shall not lie with man" and not "God loves all His children" and tells him not to let any mud get on his new socks. He sits on the couch and he sits in the audience and he's told what isn't okay. He is raised following predjudices he doesn't agree to, stereotypes engraved deep in his brain to the core. He was never taught any different, he was never educated on differences. He knows a million shades of white but God forbid he touch a blade of glass. He was taught to keep his window locked, head down, eyes shut, mouth closed, hands folded, back straight, shoelaces tied. Momma says, "Son, better keep yourself clean," but she touches him with ***** hands and ties a rope he never wanted around his neck.
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Dec 7, 2013
Dec 7, 2013 at 8:34 PM UTC
Shoelaces
A language spoken so well around the world. My teachers would use the synonym “irony”. I simply disagree. Sarcasm is showing the obvious by saying it isn’t. Irony is simply having the world hate you. And, being someone you’re not. It has many definitions but I’m here to talk about something else. So here goes: Sarcasm. A language spoken well around the world. My teacher would use the synonym ‘irony”. It makes things seem different. It shows annoyance. Some don’t get it, But that’s the beauty of it.                                                                                          Most use it for fun, And a joke is cracked. But some find it hurtful, Some just can’t. It needs emotion, Which is something people don’t have. Therefore always going back, And making the joke sour.   What I love about it, Is that anyone can speak it. Sometimes not knowing it, Sometimes knowing it. But any language or sign Can have this weird dialect. And that’s how everyone around the world, Becomes closer together. Another thing to the list, That everyone has in common.   As I say, Some are fluent, Some aren’t. That’s what I appreciate, It’s the one thing you and I have in common.   Stupidity is what it starts with, As one points out the obvious. Then the other emphasizes on that, Pointing out the dumbness. Anyone can laugh out loud, Anyone can cry, But it’s what keeps us together, Our stupid sarcasm.
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Sep 4, 2014
Sep 4, 2014 at 6:01 AM UTC
Sarcasm
A language spoken so well around the world. My teachers would use the synonym “irony”. I simply disagree. Sarcasm is showing the obvious by saying it isn’t. Irony is simply having the world hate you. And, being someone you’re not. It has many definitions but I’m here to talk about something else. So here goes: Sarcasm. A language spoken well around the world. My teacher would use the synonym ‘irony”. It makes things seem different. It shows annoyance. Some don’t get it, But that’s the beauty of it.                                                                                          Most use it for fun, And a joke is cracked. But some find it hurtful, Some just can’t. It needs emotion, Which is something people don’t have. Therefore always going back, And making the joke sour.   What I love about it, Is that anyone can speak it. Sometimes not knowing it, Sometimes knowing it. But any language or sign Can have this weird dialect. And that’s how everyone around the world, Becomes closer together. Another thing to the list, That everyone has in common.   As I say, Some are fluent, Some aren’t. That’s what I appreciate, It’s the one thing you and I have in common.   Stupidity is what it starts with, As one points out the obvious. Then the other emphasizes on that, Pointing out the dumbness. Anyone can laugh out loud, Anyone can cry, But it’s what keeps us together, Our stupid sarcasm.
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41
Lamenting lost love hidden behind harmonies, (synonymous to symphony) resonates absently. Like making love to a stranger. Like you make love to me. Void of all passion, like revenge of apathy. Apathetic entirely, the emptiness that fuels you emphasizes decrees. Standard-less standards validate your need to dismantle the mantled, and devour the diseased, to command and to seize, to exploit the exploited, and explore every scene— every pelvis, and every scream. How did I fall for such a— loveless being? Better yet, How do I disintegrate re-memories, Or abolish aplitic fallacies, and survive soullessly? (How must I do these things!?) Here I plead surrounded, unattentively, summoning recognition for the being whom resides in me. Resurrecting old wounds, (chore almost seems daily) almost seems like it’s alive, like maybe one day it might save me. More likely, one day it will concave me.   But without knowledge there is no upset. And no upset means no you and me.
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Mar 9, 2012
Mar 9, 2012 at 9:03 PM UTC
Riddler's Revenge
...gives a shiver.....it shames me, my weaknesses, are on the surface needing, rises this misty evening. this cold, cold night, further emphasizes, i need God...His Light and Shadow, to reassure me, when gray, covers blue skies my loved ones are my inspirations they feed my need to write yet, they have their own concerns... i humbly accept.....i am not my own island... there's this urge to run...to race with gusty winds, arrive fast, at my desired destination, .......but, i am halted...always reminded... ...i listen to two soft voices within ..one is guiding...the other, almost rebelling... i feel the chill from this empty space next to me i'm a mix of want........and fear....for, i need you this moment of twilight, ...and each long night that i stay awake floating, in this expanse of darkness... my conflicted soul...sends out signals of fear.. do my fears make me a craven coward? the evening breeze makes its presence known i weep in a hush, from thoughts of sailing...alone, ................ on life's lengthy moonlit bays........ ..after enunciation ...of my true voice, my conscience i could use some company ......like, i need you now .............to help me make it, ...................through this night of exile... Sally Copyright September 19, 2016 Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
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Nov 9, 2016
Nov 9, 2016 at 12:05 AM UTC
The cold of the evening breeze,
Use of heat engulfs your ends Into a splintered crisp. Every inch you sear Irons out the curls in your mane. Flick the lighter, Spark up some magic And bring that Shy, crying ember To your dry lips. The harder you inhale, The faster you burn. Smoke sneaks around Your body and Encapsulates you in A hazy plume. The scorch marks on your arm Emphasizes your need For warmth. You seem to think you’re A phoenix by how often You play with flames, But how high will you rise? Will the ashes you’ve left behind provide you with a rebirth or purge you into the hearth forever? How long will your eyes Stay ignited, Because every time you Play with snowflakes, You become a dimly lit, Sputtering flicker.
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Sep 17, 2014
Sep 17, 2014 at 2:58 PM UTC
Sparks
Is it wrong of me to be sexually satisfied, merely by the expansiveness of your mental capacity? Intrigued by your complacence. See, at first you were just this figment of my imagination. But now you've transcended, into this complete sensation. No matter the misconceptions that others may have about you, I could never replace you. I could go on and on about the metaphors that compare you to the sun, or other gleaming objects. But really, my attraction for you is far more complex, to just subsidize you to comparison you probably already met. I no longer base my relationship on *** I now seek intelligence, an intellectual, oratorical genuis - one who knows what the birds say, why the ocean waves, why society emphasizes self-hate. And ever since I've sought all of those determining qualities in you, I've since, loved you.
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Jul 28, 2013
Jul 28, 2013 at 9:15 PM UTC
"Sensation"
The psychiatrist looks young he seems Italian she sits opposite looking at his eyebrows thick but not too much so and his lips opening and closing as he speaks but she isn’t listening she’s wondering if he’s married where about he lives what size his house is how he looks undressed he leans forward his words slower now as if he thinks her imbecilic or maybe deaf he emphasizes his words his Italian accent coming through o what wonderful eyes what flesh his 9.0’clock shadow gives a blue tinged to his skin he gestures with hands opening them outward like some trader selling her something dodgy she can smell his aftershave it invades her nose makes her nerves tingle her knees touch she lets them spread beneath the desk to the limits her nightdress allows he sits back in his chair his words back to fast speed over her head his gestures are by fingers now pointing and twirling his eyes dark intense like Nietzsche’s she thinks she leans forward air pushing between her thighs as she spreads her legs as much as possible under his desk life’s one big adventure she thinks one big dare she puts her elbows on his desktop wearing no underwear but he doesn’t know it doesn’t show but if it did what then? what would he say or do? the window is open the sky a bright blue.
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Feb 1, 2013
Feb 1, 2013 at 3:26 AM UTC
GINA AND THE QUACK.
For all of his homeliness, he walked with an air of majesty and purpose. A hard and sunken bespectacled face, hollowed out from weight loss emphasizes knowledgeable grey eyes He shuffles through papers and runs his fingers through his long blond hair. A never ending cycle, he’s always doing one or the other. And fidgeting with his head phones- he hands me one. “What do you hear?” His eyes are searching mine for my thoughts, dancing with anticipation as to what I might say. “Do you hear that?” he asks. He always looked so hungry, like he wants answers. I can’t remember the last time I saw him eat. I touch what was once a cheek. “You look so thin.” He doesn’t say anything. His eyes just flash- each one different. The left says “Shut the **** up.” The right says “Help me.” Please don’t be afraid to let someone in. Please. He walks hard, every stride like he plans to take over a country. Oh there is purpose in his steps. He has the brightest mind. He’s hard, but he can see beauty where others can’t. He knows absolutely everything about me. “Why would something so beautiful want to die?” he asks me. I’ll remember those words for the rest of my life. Life is precious. And despite all of the hardships we have seen, the years that have passed, I still love him.
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Oct 27, 2012
Oct 27, 2012 at 1:52 AM UTC
My Best Friend
Each second of your tardiness just emphasizes how much you don't give a ****
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Jun 25, 2015
Jun 25, 2015 at 12:21 AM UTC
Late
Despite of your honest intentions One will come up and blow your dreams away. Some will seek all of your flaws. gather them up in a jar, and emphasizes it until all seemed sour. Despite of your humble beginnings, one will find your bread and butter. will treat it as no brained boast, it will backfire to you at all cost. Despite of your dangerous acts, that proved to be a game winner. Despite of all your heroic antics, that could have mattered. They will not see the good in you. Until you're six feet below. until you are gone. until everything is over. when there's no reset button. and all are messed up. you cannot see what is in front of you despite of your heart, and your mind, numb and faking unstrung and broken
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Dec 18, 2012
Dec 18, 2012 at 12:39 AM UTC
Despite of your heart
Sing in love to the world! That mystery is from the shadows hurled! Into darkness and into light! May in harmony we unite! Sing a song of woe and gloom that ever emphasizes our painful doom! Let joyous ponds with lilies fair entwine with nature and Nature's hair! Let silver streams of moonlight clear enlighten us on our unending fears! May together the night and the sky bring love and joy that cannot die! May tunes high strung and beeches far bring joy to us! From Gaia the Fair!
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Jul 6, 2010
Jul 6, 2010 at 9:28 AM UTC
Poem to Gaia
The Museum of the Bible is a must to see It’s everything that it is supposed to be It’s narration in making the Bible come to life The feeling is like an aroma of spice The Museum is the beauty that brings contrast of fantastic and gothic accord Yet the Museum emphasizes the life of the Lord The Museum of the Bible portrays the beginning when the Earth was in Darkness Then suddenly the feeling of light that God said let be A journey through Nazareth and the Red Sea One can only imagine Written words with a joyous voice Verses upon verses offering a spiritual choice Yes I am talking about the Holy Bible Spiritual novel with an inspiring uplift The blessing becomes the World’s Gift Throughout the Museum of the Bible, you will hear various stories But it all is surrounded in the Lord’s Glory But there is a Behold It’s how the Museum of the Bible makes the public take hold So the Museum is a place to see You won’t be bored when you visit It’s a place of opportunity It’s coming together as people being unity The Museum of the Bible in Washington, DC being that city Understanding and knowledge reigns supreme It’s exploration through religious history being the theme.
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Jun 11, 2018
Jun 11, 2018 at 6:52 PM UTC
MY REVIEW OF THE MUSEUM OF THE BIBLE IN WASHINGTON, DC
This shows that the lion is less expensive. Trying for Bettie's immortal glory The space will be cleaned. Medicines. The brain is part of it. Paris is a very famous blue sky. At a big party, Abub tried to try a house Theater Theater. Below It's a secret. Focuses on worshiping The prostitutes and rules of Pittsburgh Emphasizes the NIHHH. I went to Ian, Young and police. He has received it Greek clothes and clothes for women City. The meeting was organized in the light in Saskatchewan, CA. Add strawberries and leaves. they said too many things on the radio. Rain, rain, rain, rain, rain and public protection. Before buying your face, use white, White, White, Bad, Glory, Scam, Scam, Second Jass, Michael Michiko He was arrested and sentenced to three months For the elderly. It protects the beautiful entrance And true love is killed by six "six" men In jail in Oregon, California. Johnny, Nancy; [                      ] ...
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Nov 20, 2018
Nov 20, 2018 at 7:34 AM UTC
Worshiping The Prostitutes
It always starts the same. His teeth are shiny and his hair is perfectly unkempt, because a boy that beautiful doesn't need to try. He reminds her of her father, the way he talks with his hands wildly, and when he talks with his mouth softly, he emphasizes all the right sounds. He smells like her childhood, and it's all she wants for her future. The ring of his laugh, she swears she heard years ago in a dream. She's kept it in her ear all this time and plans to for the rest of time. He doesn't need to convince her of his perfection. He doesn't need to do a **** thing. He doesn't need to need. She is full of enough need and want and wish for them both. It always starts the same. And all I can do is hope that this time it will end differently.
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Feb 23, 2012
Feb 23, 2012 at 3:02 AM UTC
"So there's this boy."
Distilled sunlight and a steel breeze Emphasizes the anxiety steadily Burning, broiling, bubbling within me The events of a tumultuous life takes my mind for a tumble. Clench and release, ready to unleash-- The pains of day to day. Even my ******* heart won't stop beating long enough for the sun to extinguish it's blazing hard stare. All that's left is numbing gums.
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Dec 16, 2015
Dec 16, 2015 at 10:32 PM UTC
Powdered Nose
I don't know what it's like, to wake up one morning, excited to tell him of the crazy dream you had, and walk in to find that he's walked out for good. I don't know what it's like, to spend your free time, trying to search for a man you thought just left you on a curb, and see that he didn't know you exist. I don't know what it's like, to lose the man you could have sworn was invincible, and wake up every morning with such uncontrollable grief. I don't know what it's like, to have a dad that you can count on day in and day out to be there to support you for every little struggle in life. I do know what it's like, to have a father who spends his free time with beer, and yells and emphasizes his point by pushing people around. I do know what it's like, to be told that you'll never amount to anything from the only person you have to support anything you do. I do know what it's like, to find your own family and make a life for yourself even though you still go home every night living in fear. I do know what it's like, to leave the man that was the cause of so much pain, and to live with the memories still trying to move forward. I do know what it's like, to think that this day is pointless.
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Jun 16, 2013
Jun 16, 2013 at 2:54 PM UTC
Father's day.
I wake up every morning and think: "I am a free man, I will do what I want.". So I walk through my comfortable, three bedroom, two story home with a fully furnished basement, proper neighborhood and a good school. I go eat breakfast with that stupid rabbit, which is my favorite form of self- loathing, Then I dress in my tightest jeans, that my friend Tommy told me I needed. I awkwardly shuffled to my car, whose red color emphasizes my power, at least thats what the salesman told me... So I drive on these roads I payed for, passing by the people whose lives don't exist, to go to work and pay for: The car which shows my success, the jeans which makes me as attractive as success, the cereal I drown my sorrows in, and the house which lives my broken dreams.
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Dec 12, 2014
Dec 12, 2014 at 4:54 PM UTC
Freedom by Societies Standards.
The coal sky Splatter painted In cherub white Emphasizes And encompasses That feeling of incompleteness. How is it even possible To feel everything And nothing all at once? I used to worship a God. He used to be my savior Father Faith. Now the only prayer I whisper Is crafted in the sound Of runny pen On lined paper.
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Jun 7, 2014
Jun 7, 2014 at 4:44 PM UTC
God at My Fingertips
My sad mentality Destroys my reality Annihilates my honesty All I have got is privacy Not a shed of sociality My life's complexity Against myself a conspiracy Emphasizes my stupidity Locks up my humanity Self pity is my speciality It seems a necessity Which confuses my phsychology And Leaves nothing I wanna be My life's history I have waited patiently To write in my corrupting diary For I am no deity If there was something godly I'd have been killed furiously That conclusion comes logically Though simultaneously I have lived happily My neurology I have kept in secrecy Cause with my souls delivery To the devils cookery They feasted immediately On my souls purity My life's mystery Won't be uncovered easily For I life silently In my ****** up fantasy Which left nothing I wanna be I have waited impatiently For others to grow up with me For without being remotely angelically I have behaved, we'll almost elderly Or I have tried to behave intelligently Never drunkingly And quite rarely Entirely freely On this I look quite positively For it has allowed me To stand against the waves unwaveringly Looking upon life much more detailedly Seeing more nuanced on life's complexity And for the ability to do this comfortably I must thank my family While I can say all the above truthfully There is plenty to say negatively For standing against the norm unrockingly Can at the best of times be quite lonely And most the time I looked desperately After those who floated by me oh so freely While looking so unfathomably Completely, worryingly, unanimously happily At a world driven by the greedy, Disgustingly, horrifying monsters of humanity This have tortured me existentially At times I have felt ****** up mentally But as time passed slowly Step by step I realized surprisingly That it has left me allmost exactly like I allways wanted to be.
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Oct 15, 2018
Oct 15, 2018 at 3:14 AM UTC
I wanna be
My sad mentality Destroys my reality Annihilates my honesty All I have got is privacy Not a shed of sociality My life's complexity Against myself a conspiracy Emphasizes my stupidity Locks up my humanity Self pity is my speciality It seems a necessity Which confuses my phsychology And Leaves nothing I wanna be My life's history I have waited patiently To write in my corrupting diary For I am no deity If there was something godly I'd have been killed furiously That conclusion comes logically Though simultaneously I have lived happily My neurology I have kept in secrecy Cause with my souls delivery To the devils cookery They feasted immediately On my souls purity My life's mystery Won't be uncovered easily For I life silently In my ****** up fantasy Which left nothing I wanna be I have waited impatiently For others to grow up with me For without being remotely angelically I have behaved, we'll almost elderly Or I have tried to behave intelligently Never drunkingly And quite rarely Entirely freely On this I look quite positively For it has allowed me To stand against the waves unwaveringly Looking upon life much more detailedly Seeing more nuanced on life's complexity And for the ability to do this comfortably I must thank my family While I can say all the above truthfully There is plenty to say negatively For standing against the norm unrockingly Can at the best of times be quite lonely And most the time I looked desperately After those who floated by me oh so freely While looking so unfathomably Completely, worryingly, unanimously happily At a world driven by the greedy, Disgustingly, horrifying monsters of humanity This have tortured me existentially At times I have felt ****** up mentally But as time passed slowly Step by step I realized surprisingly That it has left me allmost exactly like I allways wanted to be.
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63
…and upon the turbulent storms of thought bodies are abandoned driven with a canabalizing anticpition of deathlessness that in effortless frequencies selects that which can never be reclaimed whose deliberate movements recollect those tangents that preclude inquiry and articulate themselves in an awareness of vanishing imagination that by its estrangement visits the finding of its self in unifying bonds that emphasizes the immediate shape of shared perception as of a field turning blue in moonlight under snow
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Apr 22, 2013
Apr 22, 2013 at 12:26 PM UTC
tell me what do you know...have you you seen a blue field at midnight......