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The Lego Man in his Lego house
Made Lego love with his Lego spouse
While his Lego cat Caught a Lego mouse
And all was well in Legoland.
Father Jul 2018
Um basically that I'm not crazy that she's being rediculous  and selfish and legit tell me I'm right not dismiss it like oh how about we try and work with her even more then what I just sent u and have her make it even more difficult on me u all think it so easy I get off work at 9 no way I could take him to school and my son will want to see his family at my house not just Legoland everyone always thinking of themselves and **** one day I won't be here and then everyone will see how far I was pushed and how hard. I worked and how hard I tried and when that happens itll be too late because I'll be gone u have ur kids u have ur husband Stephen does everyone has someone I legit am all I have so the only kind of love I get to where I feel like I'm needed is my son he's all I have and what keeps me going but Jesus iv been fighting like a maniac for almost 6 years now to keep him in my life and sacrifice my health my happiness my everything just so I can pay child support and try to get him as much as I'm able outa of pure selfishness no one gets it no one trys to get it everyone is focused on everything else to really see what's going on u have no idea how many times I write my good bye letters to everyone but stop when I get to my son because I legit can't and won't and absolutely refuse to leave him alone with that ***** and that selfish family all he has but Jesus dude I'm not super man I get **** from everyone in every direction and constantly get told and made to feel like I'm hated and everything else when I legit do so much for everyone and care so much about everyone and the one thing I have my happiness is my child my son and I never get to even take him for more than a day and I'm dead tired because I work my *** off to distract myself from my ****** existence and misserey I've been thru hell and back my entire life and I'm stronger because of it but no one understands that my laughter my smiles my jokes my comedy is to distract me and everyone else to the reality that I'm on the verge of death the verge of giving up the verge of loosing hope the verge of saying goodbye to the one thing that deserves so much more than I could give my baby boy my hero my heart my soul my everything my pride and joy how happy I was to find out of his creation and ready I was to bring the beautiful blessing to the world into my life how ready I was to be there and watch the miracle of him every step every laugh every tiny amazing miracle of him growing and learning and I've had all the dreams all the hope  to be there and deserved to be there still deserve to be there and missed so much of his life because of a evil hateful selfish heartless demon that manipulated my mind my actions and my heart and took what strength I had and fed on it with pleasure and sick love for destroying my soul I'm living in hell and the demon that is evil has fed clawed and ****** away my will to the point where I'm just a dim light of what I was born to be and have the potential to be the light is almost out and my little savior my baby boy is left with nothing but a shadow a like a belief that his protector didn't care and wasn't there and the demon will feed him nothing but lies and hate and fill him with nothing but hate and  resentment and confusion and anger until his sweet Innocents vanishes and light starts to dim and left to feel all alone this is as deep as it gets do I share this do I send this questions I am left with do I open up and cry for help scream for help problem is I've been screaming for years and I'm trapped so far into the darkness that no one can see or hear the crys the begging and pleading for it to end save me Help me someone but there's no one just me my miracle and the demon trying to devour what's left of my soul and diminish me from existence and tarnish and manifest itself to become the very image of me and my baby boy will look at me as nothing but the very  demon  that left him without a father as the demon feeds him the darkness I left behind the memory of me will be nothing but a random thought that will be covered up by lies and fear and resentment in my child's eyes because the demon is now me in my child's eyes and that's when the demon wins that's when the demon is finally full not after I'm gone but when the last bit of love or light I leave behind is replaced with itself and my baby boy thinks of me as nothing but the very demon that destroyed me then just maybe then the demon will win cause now the demon is my son's mother the only one there and becomes the hero and I become the demon in his eyes I'm lost I'm afraid I'm alone and begging and pleading for it to change to end to stop in the end if hell is for ever and if I'm in hell and it really is for ever then the only thing I'll be wanting or screaming or hoping is for it to end to stop to cease to exist in the end my enemy is not the demon feeding on my soul it's the never ending pain and suffering the forever the continue the hope the urge to keep going in the end my enemy is time and the only way I can stop time is to take my self out of the equation and the light that is left the life the will to live goes out dies disappears and leaves nothing but a void and darkness like it never existed good bye is close and hope is lost my will is gone nothingness is where I'm headed my little miracle is all that keeps the light inside my soul lit the flame is low and I'm affraid that it won't last or make it
Comment
Mateuš Conrad Dec 2015
i hate technology, its automated typo system, i write one thing and then it starts playing hide & seek with me... i rarely make mistakes, but this a.i. automated typo system makes me look stupid, or neurotic in the least, i hate this automatic typo signification as if i am teaching someone!*

i love that drinking wins over writing sometimes,
like this strange neo-left asking me to top it all off
with my communist grandfather living under stalin
completely in agreement with them girlies weeping
when he stank the dog off the grave in terms of bio-tech
completion; he wouldn't be dear to the left epitaph,
he'd be like voltaire & the priest: given the devil
in the sickbed there was not time to choose enemies...
he'd be branded a ****... worded... the worst kind...
a pseudo pacifist of some sort... couple economy
and atheism and you get a darwinian exclusion
where the ants aren't oblivious to lions but exclude them
for their species so well organised, god can take
the hangover route and make the "self" less sellable;...
(economy of a species and darwinism
demands communism - exclusive economisation;
not inclusive economisation...
that's some sort of theological branch
of personification where man minds spider above
another man, etc.)...
there's no self included, esp. a (")self(") worth selling...
which means exactly that (the opposite of now)...
NO TOURISM INTO THE REALM
OF CELEBRITY LITERATURE...
WHICH IS ONLY BIOGRAPHIES....
GET YER **** OUT GIRLS!
YOU'LL WRITE A BOOK SOMETIME!
god this culture is barren, and to think i dressed up
in uniform for school listening to jethro tull once...
this ain't the same country...
it sold out to the arabs... charles iii
is a ******* traitor!
traitor!
charless the iii is john ii... character assasination
you like you did with diana...
diana's revenge... yeah i believe you
were wearing silk straps of safety and the
driver survived and the parapazzi blinded the driver:
one thing about jealousy... it has dwarf legs.
they pass into the political realm they do....
easier come easier to take on in politics...
economic migrants (we'll see about that,
your philanthrophy just took to faking flight
via an invisible magic carpet flapping its trims)...
i told you once that democracy is like inverse voyeurism...
mark the x on paper, ***** an ****** into jugs for
pale ale... excess carbonation... it turns all fizzy...
the geese marched into winter...
the swans marched right into a royal edict...
the neo carta was never crafted...
but i got the hang of the diacritic marks...
i was walking drinking a belgian cider...
C DER.... in belgian french there's an accent,
stress the c, makes the vowel missing...
cídre - not really acute i, but an acute c...
c         dr. dre, i.e. dre, c dre...
it's the acute stressor of c that makes the vowel
disappear... not that a vowel can actually
become acute... vowels like women wear
mascarra to look pretty, the consonants are
serviced for a complexity... via hebrew original...
c                        dre
not
               si                        ahem...               dre.
in passes on the pompom for expected pomp -
i can't believe it took a bottle of belgian cider
to get that across.
oh sure they can hang me... by the snout...
for i won't be able to march into a field of truffles...
but hey... big snout worthy... never mind
trying to wear leather shoes given the hannibal
treatment for tacky snakeshoe leather.
most say that difficult literature is literature unread...
there's no other difficulty in literature...
difficult literature is simply unread, that's why
it's difficult... simple literature trickles down as easy as water...
and that's why it's easily managed by what
the chinese done already, having no hollywood and
damning india's bollywood... their phoneticism
is lodged in ideograms... pictograms...
european phoneticism is lodged in a skin to number,
B akin to 8, e.g., we get rich owning ovens
televisisions and satellites... but we also own
watiers and cooks who are mechanised...
and have no richness of thought...
who cares if beijing is clouded in smog?
we have 15 more years of carbon emission to wait for
before our idealism is profitable!
ah but the arab girls will migrate to london every year
between may and august... i should be so lucky lucky
australian girl pop lucky with them shopping
in only one hot spot, a grieving egyptian's legoland
of tacky known as harrods!

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