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Wilson Jan 2015
Airs : Tuesday, at 20:00 on FOX
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Plot Overview :
After Rachel's humiliating failure as TV actress, she comes home to Lima to figure out what she wants to do next. Upon discovering that Sue has banished the arts at McKinley, Rachel takes it upon herself to reinstate and lead the Glee Club. Meanwhile, Blaine, no longer in a relationship with Kurt, has moved home to coach the Warblers while Will is coaching rival Vocal Adrenaline, and Sam is the assistant coach for the McKinley football team.
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~Premiere~ Glee Season 6 Episode 1 "Loser Like Me" FULL Episode 6x1
Sympathy I feel for those who haven’t seen what I’ve seen, and for those who have felt what I’ve felt. The embodiment of my regret, shining with all the light once saved me, now engulfs me in torment of my mistake. As I orbit in harmony with the rotation of a green star, that is much more than just a green star, I ponder what my life would be if I still had my green star. I know that in time, this green star that means everything and more to me, will collapse and perish, but we will only be able to see the star frozen in time, that very instant before it collapsed, desperately clinging to one single moment. I still cling to that moment, the moment I saw my soul break free from the chains that I thought would hold me down perpetually, in her eyes. I don’t quite know how it happened, I wasn’t looking for it, I wasn’t on the make, it was the perfect storm, I said one thing, she said another, and the next thing I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my days in the middle of that conversation. It’s painful to admit that I ruined the most precious friendship I’ve ever had, which tends to sting more when she was the only genuine friend I’ve ever had. I prefer solidarity most of the time, but that doesn’t mean I don’t long for a companion every now and again, but lately that desire grows stronger and stronger, holding on to the memory of the companion I once had and lost. My life on Earth, my past life, would be considered prosperous; I was one of the top aerospace engineers in the world, which is a very time consuming and painstaking practice, but exploring the unknown territories of the universe had always been my passion. I didn’t have much of a family, my mother and father passed away when I was 22 years old, and my brother and I severed ties shortly after the death of our parents, and I had not desire nor time for a significant other, let alone the willingness to dedicate my life to another person. I always believed that I embodied the definition of misplacement, I never seemed to fit in any particular group of people, nor with any other person, really, I enjoyed getting lost in the sea of my thoughts, riding the waves, pondering ideas, asking questions that can only be answered in theory, which essentially renders me incapable of interacting with others. However, being your own best friend can sometimes lead to psychotic thoughts of self-loathing, and eventually the last straw broke the backbone of my perseverance, and I convinced myself to commit suicide. Originality and pretentiousness ****** me, demanding myself to end my life a way no one else’s life has ended, and my imagination spiraled into a storm, brainstorming my own demise. My most recent endeavor at the time was to manufacture a personal bubble that would sustain in space, and condensing a spaceship into the size of a smart car was the threshold between my pathetic life of this planet, and self-destructive glory. After a year of an extremely unhealthy intensity of research, my talisman of my soul, my most cherished invention, my cosmic coffin. I traveled from my home in Anchorage to the highest point in Alaska, Mount McKinley, and inserted my body comfortably inside my space bubble and proceeded to ascend into my eternal salvation, ascending towards achievement of my life’s dream, ascending the edges of space, where no human has ever occupied in history. The butterfly feeling in my stomach, caused by the sheer joy I felt, is probably the closest feeling I had ever felt at the time to true love, the irony of my affection for death. As I slipped past our atmosphere and found myself floating closer towards the stars and planets, I sat down and enjoyed the galactic show of entropy before me, and after a while the visual melody put me in a hypnotic state, and before I knew it I was being stated down by a saucer shaped spaceship with luminous blue lights encompassing the round edge of the ship. I felt my capsule gravitating towards and entering the ship through a small hole on the underbelly of its structure, that appeared to look like a portal. As I passed through the light I was being observed by a feminine looking blue creature, with bright green eyes that sparkled like emeralds in the moonlight, and long, luscious blonde hair, straight and smooth as silk. She was tall, which I realized as I stood up out of my capsule, about an inch taller than my six foot frame, with long, skinny fingers and decently big webbed feet, and a long slender tail hanging down from her backside that wasn't quite long enough to touch the ground. She had shiny, scaly skin that had a deceptive rough appearance in texture, but felt soft and smooth when her hand reached out to embrace mine, and she said, "Hello, I am called Elora, what are you called?" Still in shock, the only awkward response I muttered was, "Eric" and she asked, "Why are you here Eric?" As I regained my quick wit I declared, "Does anyone know why they're here?" She smiled, exposing her sharp white teeth and proposed, "Well, you can help me find out." I think it had something to do with the adrenaline rush caused by the mystery and uncertainty of the situation, but I caught myself grinning, I didn't even realize I was smiling, it was an odd, unfamiliar feeling, but I was madly attracted to this blue angel from the stars. I spoke to her about my life on Earth, and my elaborate suicide plan, and she explained to me that she abandoned her home planet Eridani to conduct galactic research, and that she was from the Altair race. She elaborated on how life on Eridani did not satisfy her, and that she would spend her life roaming around nebulas, exploring galaxies, researching stars, and documenting her experiences. She showed me a star that she claims as hers, a green star called Zohra, which was her favorite star because she said she could only feel happiness when looking at it, to which I said, “It reminds of your eyes” and she looked at me and seemed flattered. She loved that star, her eyes lit up brighter than the star itself when she would stare at it, hypnotized at the sight of it, which I cared little to notice because I couldn’t look away from her. I couldn’t quite understand how someone could be so invested in something like that, something that just sits there spinning and spinning, peacefully participating in the orchestra of the universe. I think she was so fascinated by this object because she felt the same disconnect from others of our kind. The lonely, outcast feeling connected us, ironically, and we carried on intriguing conversation for what felt like an eternity, and I only wish that conversation could've lasted longer. I found in Elora what I had not found in any human being, she understood me, to the point where I was convinced she had mind reading abilities, and her understanding me didn’t diminish her interest in me, like what usually happened to me on Earth. I found happiness in her company, I found salvation in her embrace, I found unparalleled beauty inside and out, and I found myself in our friendship.  As time slowly rolled on my affection for Elora grew increasingly unbearable, and eventually the realization dawned upon me that I had to inform Elora of my feelings for her. We were accelerating towards the Crab Nebula, and I noticed the blurred blue light in the center, wrapped around by streams of red and yellow light, holding the blue heart in the center together. Elora was to me what the red and yellow streams were to the integrity of the Crab Nebula, without those streams, without Elora, my soul would fall apart and disburse, just like the blue light in the center of the Crab Nebula. When I turned, looked her square in her eyes, her gorgeous eyes that were accented by the light emitting from the Crab Nebula, those eyes that pull you in and leave you in a trance, those eyes that display the beauty of nature condensed into two little spheres that seemed to effortlessly gaze inside my soul, breaking down every single wall that I have ever built up to hide myself from other people, and uncover everything I so desperately attempted to hide deep down, and I said to her, “You are the only reason I’m still alive, the only reason I still want to live, the only other soul that accepted my lost, broken soul, you are the most amazing, most beautiful creature born from the stars we now roam around, I tried to die to see what heaven is like, but heaven can wait, because there is nothing more I want than to be with you until the day my soul slips away from my body, I am madly in love with you Elora.” I poured my heart and soul out to her, bleeding out every ounce of passion and love and sophistication to her, exposing every bit of my emotions, leaving me naked and defenseless before her. Different scenarios raced around my head about how she would respond, and she glanced down at the ground, looked back up at my blank face, and she said, “My people do not love, we do not believe in love, and we cannot love. Love, no matter how polarizing it may seem, always fades in time, everything fades in time, love fades in time, ideas fade in time, you will fade in time, I will fade in time, in the end, nothing is perpetual.” My heart sank down into my stomach, and right at that moment I grasped the idea of why they call it “falling in love” because I landed harder than I could even fathom, I did not know that such powerful emotional sorrow could physically hurt so bad. I dropped down to one knee, and the streams of tears ran from my face and splashed down on the ground, like delicate little glass beads shattering as they made contact with the surface, shattering like my heart and soul. The pure agony and embarrassment of staying with the love of my life, whom I had just made an absolute fool of myself in front of, was enough to crush any man’s esteem, so the only rational option I could think of was bail towards my space bubble, and go as far away as I possibly could from the light that saved me. With every inch of separation between her and I, my heart and soul grew sour and stone cold, and new theories to rationalize my reaction and actions that followed. As a child I went to an amusement park, and I was particularly frightened of a certain attraction that lifted you straight up, a couple hundred feet, and dropped you straight down, and now I realize that my fears of love are comparable to this ride. I was so mortified by the ascension, which precedes love, that I could never enjoy the thrill of the fall, even though this time the safety harness didn’t soften the landing. I came to the conclusion, after years of thought, that I could not blame Elora, it was who she was and there was nothing she could do to change that, and instead of accepting the fact that she did not love me, I cowardly abandoned the only thing in my life that I gave a **** about, I ran away from the only other being in the universe that could make me smile the way she made me smile. After years of solidarity and self-loathing I realized that I would much rather spend my life with Elora, even if she didn’t love me, as opposed to regressing back to my lonesome life, only surrounded by a vast, more captivating scene. The only reason I am still alive is because I have not given up hope that one day I will find Elora again, and I will beg for her forgiveness, and hopefully I will be able to cherish every precious moment I spend with her. I solemnly believe that the slim chance will occur that I will once again see that face, gaze into those eyes I once did, and curse my old self for being foolish enough to leave her. I am not certain, but I can only hope that she is at least indifferent to encountering each other once again, but if she denies me I cannot blame her, because after all it is my fault for my impulsive escape. But for now I wander as a nomad amongst the stars that form constellations that all remind me of Elora, watch the planets rotate, and reminisce on the time we shared together, the time I took for granted, time that I consider to be the most precious moments of my life’s experience. I spend most of my time roaming around Zohra, which was where she and I parted ways, in hopes that one day she will return to her favorite star, to find me right there waiting for her, however patience has not served me well, and my actions which I so deeply regret caused her to abandon the star which she claimed as hers, the star that radiated happiness upon her, the magnificent star that embodied her in beauty and essence, to avoid the thought of me leaving her, which is justifiable because she was probably very flustered by me scrambling to leave her after my episode. I rotate around Zohra, observing its physical qualities, seeing Elora’s face every single time I look upon its surface, but one day the light exiting the pores of the planet grew significantly brighter, and Zohra began rotating and shaking at a phenomenally fast speed, and I witnessed Zohra swallow itself in a supernova, creating a black hole. I interpreted this to represent the death of the hope I had to once again see Elora, or maybe time had taken her like time had taken her beloved star. I allowed myself to succumb to the irresistible force from the black hole, and the death of hope I had to once more see the angelic face of my love, swallowed my space bubble and my hollow body occupying it, to the point of no return, where I can no longer regret what I had done to her, because in time, my love for her destroyed me.
Craig Harrison Jun 2014
We live in a time of uncertainty
No jobs
Climate change
Mass killings
warnings of pandemics
Where is our utopia
where is our heaven on Earth

1900's we had
San Fransisco's earthquake
McKinley was assassinated
First Nobel prize
The Tunguska Event
nothing as changed in my eyes

1910's we had
Spanish flu
The sinking of the unsinkable ship, the Titanic
and World War 1
What else is needed to say about this decade
nothing changed as the human race lived on

1920's we had
Discovery of penicillin
The great depression
and prohibition

1930's we had
Bonnie and Clyde
Hindenburg disaster
Discovery of Pluto
Al Capone imprisoned

1940's we had
World War 2
Mount Rushmore completed
Big bang theory formulated
Israel founded
Nothing changed but who knew

1950's we had
Castro becomes Dictator of Cuba
Laika the dog goes into space
Korean War began
History never changed and neither will the Human Race

1960's we had
The rise of the Berlin wall
First man on the moon
Vietnam War
Nothing changed and won't any time soon

1970's we had
First test tube baby
Tangshan Earthquake
Kent state shootings
Elvis died

1980's we had
Chernobyl
Tiananmen square massacre
Exxon oil spill
Nothing changed and never will

1990's we had
Oklahoma city bombing
Princess Diana died
Columbine massacre
World Trade Center bombed
End of the Cold War

2000's we had
Hurricane Katrina
Pluto reclassified
Obama elected
September 11th

2010's we had
Haiti Earthquake
Japan Earthquake
Bin Laden killed
BP oil spill
England riots
Brazil riots
China banned time travel.
We're only 4 years in.


**** sapiens are nearly 200,000 years old
nothing changed
and never will
Hope you like
Vernon Waring Jul 2015
peter hated the house on mckinley street
in his eight-year-old brain it was a hot mess

since his parents moved there
all he heard were complaints and yelling

his mother was always moaning about the small rooms,
the lousy closet space, the faulty plumbing, the leaky roof

and the mice

they were everywhere - in closets, in pantries, in drawers,
behind the heater, under the radiators

they were in nooks and crannies, behind the refrigerator,
in the laundry room, even in the crawl space

they were almost always in hiding, rarely seen in daytime
except when they were found dead in a trap - also a rarity

traps were set methodically, enticing hors d'oeuvres were created
laced with cheese and peanut butter but still nothing worked

his mother would religiously check the traps every morning
and every time she'd mutter "those little ******* *******!"

the sly moves of mice to avoid the guillotine snap of a mousetrap
as they nibbled around a flap of cheese amazed everyone

besides traps his parents bought sticky cheese pads where the
tiny monsters would get their heads and bodies stuck permanently

one time peter observed a black mouse lying - and dying - on
a cheese pad...he pushed a second pad over its face

"i suffocated the little ****!" he exclaimed and when he told
his parents they bought him a gift card from the lego store

but every now and then one of the lilliputian invaders would
make a live unscheduled appearance

one october when the nights began to get colder his mother saw
a gray mouse climb up a cord leading to the microwave

she almost had a heart attack right there on the spot and there
was the time his father was looking in the refrigerator and

heard a strange scratchy noise behind him - he sensed
a sudden descent; a baby mouse had scurried off a shelf and

fell into a small trash can so his father immediately picked
up the can and hurled it out the back door

ultimately the parents decided to move to a swanky apartment
house and the night before peter had his last "mouse dream"

it featured a giant white mouse's head that was the size of
a billboard so big so menacing it scared him awake

finally he fell back into a gentle state of dreamless slumber...
and when he woke up his parents were taking down pictures

he looked out his window and saw a moving van pull up and
for the first time in a long time he was happy
Let’s start with a reminder:
President Harding,
President Woodrow Wilson,
President McKinley,
President Calvin Coolidge
& President Harry S. Truman--
Harry giving them hell in my lifetime,
In my time—
An ever so proximate reminder--
These were all Presidents of the U.S. of A.
Also, KKK Members.
Warren G. Harding, for Christ’s sake,
Was actually sworn into the Ku Klux ****,
At a **** ceremony
Astonishingly conducted,
Inside the White House,
Presided over by Wizard Imperial of the Day,
The Honorable Colonel Simmons.
And I may as well throw in
Justice Hugo of the Supreme Court
Hugo Black in white robes,
While we’re on the subject of cultural memory,
To wit: the one Branch where Fairness
Is supposed to go with the territory.

You want to talk about race?
Hey, don’t get me started.
Robert C Howard Mar 2015
Every child of ten knows
the universe is a jagged shape
edged by home and park
and school and market -
at least that’s the way I knew it

and all the world’s kids
went to McKinley school
and everyone's dad
worked at Lincoln Park Tool
while mother stayed at home.

So my entire universe
was shaken to shards
when father broke news
that we soon would be moving
to a distant galaxy
a dozen miles away -
entirely peopled by aliens.

Well it wasn’t so bleak after all -
my brother and little sister
were allowed to come with us
and we kept the same grandparents too.
New friends popped up everywhere
like rainbows of tulips in May.

The house was fresh and new
but seriously lacked a lawn.
so a rusty old truck rumbled up
and dumped us a mountain of soil.

Seizing the obvious challenge,
I put a shovel to its intended use -
moving and spreading non-stop
until Mom called us to dinner
then went back and shoveled ‘til dark.

The pile was nearly leveled
by afternoon next as
Dad turned his fifty-three Ford
into our driveway -
hitting the horn to call me over,
“Son I need your help.”

Dropping my shovel
I sped to the open trunk
and stared in disbelief.
In an ecstatic yelp
produced only by ten year old boys
I circled Dad's waist with my arms,
then gratefully unloaded
the best yellow scooter
in this or any other galaxy.

*September,  2008
Robert C Howard Jul 2013
Flight came so easily
when I was a boy of seven.

I'd hover over sidewalks, cars and lawns
gliding on a sea of azure air
above my friends at play
and Mom and Pop talking on the stoop.

I'd circle over McKinley School (my school)
where the recess bell is ringing
and the creek by the edge of the woods
where I found the railroad flare
(my creek, my woods).

Flight came ever so easily
when I was seven (or was it eight?)
when the sky was autumn blue
and the world below was kind and true.

But in time, science grounded me,
said it was just a dream.
After all a boy can't just up
and repeal the law of gravity, can he?

Why yes, of course he can:
it comes so easy
when you're seven or eight
and the skies are right for flying.

*October, 2010
Included in Unity Tree - Collected poems
pub. CreateSpace - Amazon.com
The assassinated president William McKinley (January 29, 1843 – September 14, 1901) and his first vice president Garret Augustus Hobart (June 3, 1844 – November 21, 1899) died within 22 months of each other. Nothing to see here.
phil roberts Apr 2016
Robert Johnson went to the crossroads
And fell down on his knees
The wolf was howlin' at midnight
McKinley Morganfield stirred the muddy waters
Singing of hoochie ******* men and mojos
Right back to Charlie Patton and Son House
And Blind Lemon Jefferson too
Men from the land of cotton, corn liquor and jukes
Always travelling hard and hard driven
Playing hard and hard living
These men who became legends
Who touched the deepest part of souls
With their elemental music
And they still do

                                   By Phil Roberts
Allen Wilbert Oct 2013
Presidents

Washington, Adams and Jefferson,
had *** with slaves just for fun.
Madison, Monroe and Adams,
I'm sure had secret madams.
Jackson, Van Buren and Harrison,
not sure how they ever won.
Tyler, Polk and Taylor,
before elected lived in a trailer.
Fillmore, Pierce and Buchanan,
should have been shot from a cannon.
Lincoln, Johnson and Grant,
each once had a cotton plant.
Hayes, Garfield and Arthur,
sinking fast with no life preserver.
Cleveland, Harrison and again Cleveland,
both of them killed at least one Indian.
McKinley, Roosevelt and Taft,
all too fat to float on a raft.
Wilson, Harding and Coolidge,
should have jumped from a bridge.
Hoover, Roosevelt and Truman,
wondering if they were even human.
Eisenhower, Kennedy and Johnson,
neither of them can still run.
Nixon, Ford and Carter,
not sure which one was smarter.
Reagan, Bush and Clinton,
shot, stupid and a Monica.
Bush and now Obama,
one was dumb,
and the other looks like a black llama.
apeitz Mar 2011
That shot of whiskey
dulls my nerves
that taste aint good
and it kinda burns
what do I do now?
I pull a smoke from
my pocket, and take a light
the smoke creates a ghost
in the pitch black of the night
I stroll down McKinley
humming a tune from the radio
I dont have a place to be
no place to actually go
smooth, easy, drifter,
phil roberts Oct 2015
Robert Johnson went to the crossroads
And fell down on his knees
The wolf was howlin' at midnight
McKinley Morganfield stirred the muddy waters
Singing of hoochie ******* men and mojos
Right back to Charlie Patton and Son House
And Blind Lemon Jefferson too
Men from the land of cotton, corn liquor and jukes
Always travelling hard and hard driven
Playing hard and hard living
These men who became legends
Who touched the deepest part of souls
With their elemental music
And they still do

                                   By Phil Roberts
Shawn Nov 2016
A penny for your thoughts,
A nickel if you're fickle,
A dime and you're mine,

A quarter for the century,
A dollar makes you holler,
Five to keep it alive,

Mr. Hamilton wants attention,
Mr. Jackson is very sore,
Mr. Benjamin will ease the tension,
... and maybe some more

A Mr. McKinley to keep it clean,
Grover Cleveland may make it messy,
But President Madison has arrived,

I don't mean to Chase you away,
but Woodrow Wilson will do just fine.
Negotiating skills on point
Craig Verlin Oct 2016
They flit like pages or old ghosts
through the dark spaces of your mind,
front to back like a laundry lists of good
memories gilded and soured
both-- by time and retrospect.
They come in little images like behind
the big, blue trash cans on the playground
where Marie kissed you
and you ran away.
The leather seats of
her father's car where McKinley
undressed herself that first time,
belt buckle taut against you hip.

All of them like snapshots
blending upward and forward
toward you until the recent,
fresh and inflamed as if the skin
of some rotten, festered wound.
How you see her here,
sitting there across the
edge of the bed
a million miles away.  
She is salvation if only you can grab her,
but you cannot anymore.
See her in dark hair, tied loosely
back behind her.
See her in anger at the turn of her lip,
sweet flesh-- even as the words sour.
See her in reflections of light
softening her eye against the welling tear
she dares to fall.

Torn-out pages of scripture.
Sad beautiful ghosts that,
if not dead, are far
from here--

And what ought love to do
from a thousand miles
but die.
phil roberts Feb 2016
Robert Johnson went to the crossroads
And fell down on his knees
The wolf was howlin' at midnight
McKinley Morganfield stirred the muddy waters
Singing of hoochie ******* men and mojos
Right back to Charlie Patton and Son House
And Blind Lemon Jefferson too
Men from the land of cotton, corn liquor and jukes
Always travelling hard and hard driven
Playing hard and hard living
These men who became legends
Who touched the deepest part of souls
With their elemental music
And they still do

                                   By Phil Roberts
And they always will
ymmiJ Apr 2019
raging whiteout winds
chaotic drapes blinding, viewing
mother Denali's
sharpened crystalline edges
framed by sprawling blue heavens

— The End —