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"shawshank" poems
so, with israel being re-established... why do we, us,hit europeans... even need to bother establishing authority,          utilißing the new testament? i quiete like the old testament logic of: oculus per oculus                    (eye for an eye)... because the saxon concept of justice: i rather see... the implosion of    blackstone's formulation... the 10:1 imploding to the 1:10 ratio of...       a shawshank redemption... there is... redemption... since! there's no justice within the post scriptum of the hillsborough disaster... watching people walk, the lunatic walk, 20 years later?    disorientated by the court of justice?     re-dem-ption... the whole aspect of: innocent until proven guilty is horrid! this... saxon vernacular of that branch of philosophy that's bogus... namely... within origins      of the forbidden fruit... i.e. and you know?!     really?!       no... but i'll **** to make a standing pivot of a pawn on a chess-board.                           savvy? who, among the europeans... actually needs such artifacts as new testament texts, credo, orthodoxy, sign of the cross greek exports?              the state of israel has been re-established...       i don't want anything to do with this judeo-grecian banality... you can have you little affair over                                 n        e                                                 w                                  s... don't worry... i'll make sure that i'm watching... people tell a lie... yeah: hum hum bubbly hum-hum... am i, or are there any arizona inbreds? who, the hell, needs, the news testament, within the confines of history, dispossessing europe of it, of an established jewish state?       one book among many... hence the scent of a yawn...                          when entering a library... i'll do one gesture, and one gesture alone... inclined to a replica...     ecce libra!              i wash my hands from                   having any investment in it. **** the greeks can have it...       they can keep it, cherish it, but they better not spaghetti the old testament with their... "ingenious" plot... not when the nag hammadi library emerged...       no... not now... not ever...         i detest this greek book of overt symbolism...   their pristine alphabet, their diacritical application,   with the pseudo-romans toying with: deaf... or blind... whichever it is... sandpaper... instead of a kangaroo pouch... of inflated... soft... flesh? i'll rip your heart out and feed it to my neighbour's dog,                   beside a bowl of water.
0
Jul 24, 2018
Jul 24, 2018 at 8:32 PM UTC
removed.polaroid-scrabble
ecce libra! re-emergence of israel **** liber)
so, with israel being re-established... why do we, us,hit europeans... even need to bother establishing authority,          utilißing the new testament? i quiete like the old testament logic of: oculus per oculus                    (eye for an eye)... because the saxon concept of justice: i rather see... the implosion of    blackstone's formulation... the 10:1 imploding to the 1:10 ratio of...       a shawshank redemption... there is... redemption... since! there's no justice within the post scriptum of the hillsborough disaster... watching people walk, the lunatic walk, 20 years later?    disorientated by the court of justice?     re-dem-ption... the whole aspect of: innocent until proven guilty is horrid! this... saxon vernacular of that branch of philosophy that's bogus... namely... within origins      of the forbidden fruit... i.e. and you know?!     really?!       no... but i'll **** to make a standing pivot of a pawn on a chess-board.                           savvy? who, among the europeans... actually needs such artifacts as new testament texts, credo, orthodoxy, sign of the cross greek exports?              the state of israel has been re-established...       i don't want anything to do with this judeo-grecian banality... you can have you little affair over                                 n        e                                                 w                                  s... don't worry... i'll make sure that i'm watching... people tell a lie... yeah: hum hum bubbly hum-hum... am i, or are there any arizona inbreds? who, the hell, needs, the news testament, within the confines of history, dispossessing europe of it, of an established jewish state?       one book among many... hence the scent of a yawn...                          when entering a library... i'll do one gesture, and one gesture alone... inclined to a replica...     ecce libra!              i wash my hands from                   having any investment in it. **** the greeks can have it...       they can keep it, cherish it, but they better not spaghetti the old testament with their... "ingenious" plot... not when the nag hammadi library emerged...       no... not now... not ever...         i detest this greek book of overt symbolism...   their pristine alphabet, their diacritical application,   with the pseudo-romans toying with: deaf... or blind... whichever it is... sandpaper... instead of a kangaroo pouch... of inflated... soft... flesh? i'll rip your heart out and feed it to my neighbour's dog,                   beside a bowl of water.
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86
I stood outside watching the rain slowly melt from the clouds My porch let me step onto its short pathway, for it knew my thoughts I stood there and looked up at the sky, being guarded by the small roof above me I watched as the rain fell silently to the streets and listened as it hit the bushes I kept waiting for it to change I kept waiting for it to change me For it to wash away something deep inside me I wanted it to wash away any hurt Wash away the insecurities Wash away the denial Wash away the sins Wash away the thinking of “You’ll never feel the touch of someone in love” Wash away the scars Wash away the memories Wash away the impurities Wash away I stood waiting but the rain still poured on my outstretched hands My hands opening to God asking,”Why me?” The hands of a woman who has never felt the hands of a man in love The hands that can make me whole once more As I stood watching the lightening soar across the sky and the thunder gently hum I wondered “Is this life real? Is this God real? Is love real? Is any of it real?” I shivered and stood waiting for the rain’s response None came; the only response was the silent tread of water heading toward a gutter Funny, just like my life, always fighting against gravity to stay clear of the gutter Shivering I stepped back inside and heard a small clink of a piece of broken glass I held it, amazed, wondering if my life would end this way In the hands of a tiny piece of melted sand I looked at its tiny iceberg shape I turned it and it suddenly transformed into a misshaped heart A heart, like mine, so clear, so ready, so fragile I tossed the tiny love into the air as lightening made its last hoorah Hearing only the distinctive clink as it hit the sidewalk The rain responded joyously as it picked up its pace This was her response Nothing may be real but the rain In the end, sometimes, it’s all we can depend on to wash away our old selves To stand, like an escape from Shawshank; free This was my answer That my tiny glass love lying patiently on the side of the road will someday be picked up and thrown wildly into the wind hoping that it shall find the fingers of a lovestruck current This time instead of a slab of concrete, I shall be there to catch it as lightening strikes my heart I looked up at the tiny roof guarding my head from the cold drops of reality It was then that I decided it was time to take the roof off of my life, leaving me unguarded I closed the door, shivering with a renewed sense of myself I curled under the blanket asking again the same questions that haunted me, “Is this life real? Is this God real? Is love real? Is any of it real?” The rain answered, “Yes”.
0
Jun 12, 2012
Jun 12, 2012 at 1:14 AM UTC
kelsie-kullman
When It Rains, It Pours
I stood outside watching the rain slowly melt from the clouds My porch let me step onto its short pathway, for it knew my thoughts I stood there and looked up at the sky, being guarded by the small roof above me I watched as the rain fell silently to the streets and listened as it hit the bushes I kept waiting for it to change I kept waiting for it to change me For it to wash away something deep inside me I wanted it to wash away any hurt Wash away the insecurities Wash away the denial Wash away the sins Wash away the thinking of “You’ll never feel the touch of someone in love” Wash away the scars Wash away the memories Wash away the impurities Wash away I stood waiting but the rain still poured on my outstretched hands My hands opening to God asking,”Why me?” The hands of a woman who has never felt the hands of a man in love The hands that can make me whole once more As I stood watching the lightening soar across the sky and the thunder gently hum I wondered “Is this life real? Is this God real? Is love real? Is any of it real?” I shivered and stood waiting for the rain’s response None came; the only response was the silent tread of water heading toward a gutter Funny, just like my life, always fighting against gravity to stay clear of the gutter Shivering I stepped back inside and heard a small clink of a piece of broken glass I held it, amazed, wondering if my life would end this way In the hands of a tiny piece of melted sand I looked at its tiny iceberg shape I turned it and it suddenly transformed into a misshaped heart A heart, like mine, so clear, so ready, so fragile I tossed the tiny love into the air as lightening made its last hoorah Hearing only the distinctive clink as it hit the sidewalk The rain responded joyously as it picked up its pace This was her response Nothing may be real but the rain In the end, sometimes, it’s all we can depend on to wash away our old selves To stand, like an escape from Shawshank; free This was my answer That my tiny glass love lying patiently on the side of the road will someday be picked up and thrown wildly into the wind hoping that it shall find the fingers of a lovestruck current This time instead of a slab of concrete, I shall be there to catch it as lightening strikes my heart I looked up at the tiny roof guarding my head from the cold drops of reality It was then that I decided it was time to take the roof off of my life, leaving me unguarded I closed the door, shivering with a renewed sense of myself I curled under the blanket asking again the same questions that haunted me, “Is this life real? Is this God real? Is love real? Is any of it real?” The rain answered, “Yes”.
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48
“I have to remind myself that some birds aren’t meant to be caged. Their feathers are just too bright. And when they fly away, the part of you that knows it was a sin to lock them up does rejoice. But still, the place you live in is that much more grey."
0
Jan 24, 2016
Jan 24, 2016 at 8:44 AM UTC
TheBlackRaven
Shawshank redemption
“I have to remind myself that some birds aren’t meant to be caged. Their feathers are just too bright. And when they fly away, the part of you that knows it was a sin to lock them up does rejoice. But still, the place you live in is that much more grey."
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1
You know that feeling that you get After a joke you tell falls flat? Humiliation unrepressed; I'd summarise my life as that. Twenty-one years down the line But worn as if I'm eighty-odd. Drug dependant, but still here. All miracle: No added God! The classic jokes all told again. "He looked so cute but what went wrong?" Too much attention, look away And **** off with that birthday song. Twenty-one yet still sixteen, The pinnacle of gentlemen. A deviant of *** and lust, And sickness from adrenaline. Happy birthday, happy birthday, Psychedelic astronaut. Years ago you clambered out And started having second thoughts. On hands and knees, I'd crawl back in, Just like Shawshank Redemption. This may explain my love of *** I shall make no exemptions.
0
Aug 23, 2018
Aug 23, 2018 at 3:17 PM UTC
Sammond
I Climbed out of My Mother 21 Years ago Today (And it was a Terrible Decision)
You know that feeling that you get After a joke you tell falls flat? Humiliation unrepressed; I'd summarise my life as that. Twenty-one years down the line But worn as if I'm eighty-odd. Drug dependant, but still here. All miracle: No added God! The classic jokes all told again. "He looked so cute but what went wrong?" Too much attention, look away And **** off with that birthday song. Twenty-one yet still sixteen, The pinnacle of gentlemen. A deviant of *** and lust, And sickness from adrenaline. Happy birthday, happy birthday, Psychedelic astronaut. Years ago you clambered out And started having second thoughts. On hands and knees, I'd crawl back in, Just like Shawshank Redemption. This may explain my love of *** I shall make no exemptions.
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24
World traveller. Suit wearer. Likes The Shawshank Redemption. He's off to a singles party somewhere in Doncaster, it’s Christmas themed and fancy dress though it’s planned for October the 23rd during Christmas's only rest. And I know that in Donny you find love where you can, and I know he spent hours revising his master plan fancy dress idea, but a raw turkey outfit, coloured like **** semolina once bought for a Jamie recipe that didn’t quite work, won’t cut it on the dance floor.
0
Feb 1, 2014
Feb 1, 2014 at 10:12 AM UTC
tim-knight
Doncaster Speed Dating
World traveller. Suit wearer. Likes The Shawshank Redemption. He's off to a singles party somewhere in Doncaster, it’s Christmas themed and fancy dress though it’s planned for October the 23rd during Christmas's only rest. And I know that in Donny you find love where you can, and I know he spent hours revising his master plan fancy dress idea, but a raw turkey outfit, coloured like **** semolina once bought for a Jamie recipe that didn’t quite work, won’t cut it on the dance floor.
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18
The voice of Morgan Freeman can make flowers sprout Penguins march like an army to the rhythm of his voice The voice of an opera singer may break glass But his just melds it back together I'm pretty sure Somewhere He's narrating my every footstep My every breath My every twitch He's somewhere looking down on me Giving the best play by play ever His deep bellowing voice Opens the worn hole Helps break Tim Robbins out of Shawshank And helps batman save Gotham The only thing he can't do Is get me through high school
0
Nov 5, 2013
Nov 5, 2013 at 6:41 AM UTC
jack-saintjohn
Morgan Freeman's Voice
The voice of Morgan Freeman can make flowers sprout Penguins march like an army to the rhythm of his voice The voice of an opera singer may break glass But his just melds it back together I'm pretty sure Somewhere He's narrating my every footstep My every breath My every twitch He's somewhere looking down on me Giving the best play by play ever His deep bellowing voice Opens the worn hole Helps break Tim Robbins out of Shawshank And helps batman save Gotham The only thing he can't do Is get me through high school
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17
What miserable circumstances these are I must say, All seriousness awaits every young mind, Dust turns to dirt, And thy dirt turns to slime!!! Lying in the state of orient, Thine place of buckeye hatched Nazi's!!! Thine place where flies stay nutritious, And gamblers turn to yahzee!!! Turnaround, For pickaways thy decadent view, Just as Shawshank there's no escape, Just white t-shirts , Straps replace laces and mindrapists of me and you!!! Such colorful words used in a slander!!! Falcons to replace birds, Snake's here to smell out every tasteful salamander!! No dancers, No lovers, No swings, No palliation!!! No invitations to weddings, No wedded rings!!!! Constitutional rights, Forgeteth them thou reader of ohian laws, Thy bloodcells extend, Muscles bend to flex thy own callibur to thine jaw!!!! Miracles of dark and lighted angels appear in sequences, No recommendations, Just case workers to fill bus help stations!!! Proverbs to psalms will open to eyes that have not yet seen, Where pearlied gates are out on display, No movie theaters, No freak like scenes!!! All reality, no aura in the Catacomb of unknown kilter!!! Pacification leads me successfully with a peace of minds own capture, Prevailing to Sentiment, To Amour ever after!!!!!
0
May 22, 2015
May 22, 2015 at 7:31 PM UTC
brandon-nagley
cut throat poetry
What miserable circumstances these are I must say, All seriousness awaits every young mind, Dust turns to dirt, And thy dirt turns to slime!!! Lying in the state of orient, Thine place of buckeye hatched Nazi's!!! Thine place where flies stay nutritious, And gamblers turn to yahzee!!! Turnaround, For pickaways thy decadent view, Just as Shawshank there's no escape, Just white t-shirts , Straps replace laces and mindrapists of me and you!!! Such colorful words used in a slander!!! Falcons to replace birds, Snake's here to smell out every tasteful salamander!! No dancers, No lovers, No swings, No palliation!!! No invitations to weddings, No wedded rings!!!! Constitutional rights, Forgeteth them thou reader of ohian laws, Thy bloodcells extend, Muscles bend to flex thy own callibur to thine jaw!!!! Miracles of dark and lighted angels appear in sequences, No recommendations, Just case workers to fill bus help stations!!! Proverbs to psalms will open to eyes that have not yet seen, Where pearlied gates are out on display, No movie theaters, No freak like scenes!!! All reality, no aura in the Catacomb of unknown kilter!!! Pacification leads me successfully with a peace of minds own capture, Prevailing to Sentiment, To Amour ever after!!!!!
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37
It's 7:27am and I still haven't slept it's probably for the best even when I sleep I get no rest I wake up in sweat and out of breath if sleep was really the cousin of death I'd be inclined to get more of it wakefulness is stress but sleep sleep is something else sleep is torture for the depressed sleep is something you tell yourself you need when your world comes crashing down when you see no need to get dressed sleep is what you fall in to when there's no more stimulation no more coffee, no more elation something you do post ****** usually from ************ if you could see my dreams you'd think of Stephen King's The Shawshank Redemption except without redemption just the seeping hateful retention
0
Feb 12, 2021
Feb 12, 2021 at 2:51 AM UTC
finley-pietersen
Sleep
It's 7:27am and I still haven't slept it's probably for the best even when I sleep I get no rest I wake up in sweat and out of breath if sleep was really the cousin of death I'd be inclined to get more of it wakefulness is stress but sleep sleep is something else sleep is torture for the depressed sleep is something you tell yourself you need when your world comes crashing down when you see no need to get dressed sleep is what you fall in to when there's no more stimulation no more coffee, no more elation something you do post ****** usually from ************ if you could see my dreams you'd think of Stephen King's The Shawshank Redemption except without redemption just the seeping hateful retention
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23
He doesn't know all the words To every led zeppelin song So he doesn't sing along with me While I'm belting out the lyrics He doesn't idolize jim morrison He doesn't love stevie nicks He doesn't listen to johnny cash He doesn't feed my mind He can't tell me something That I don't already know He doesn't bite his nails Or lick his lips He doesn't have long hair That I can twirl around my finger He doesn't know how much I adore my mom He doesn't know How much my father has hurt me He doesn't know I live solemnly for my siblings He doesn't know That I cry at night Because I hate my appearance He doesn't know The little things that make me laugh He doesn't know That the shawshank redemption Is my favorite movie He doesn't know That I hate wearing shoes He doesn't know Where I've been Or where I want to go He doesn't know i'm a big fish in a small pond and i'll never make it in the ocean He doesn't know all I ever wanted was to be loved and taken care of He doesn't know He's never going to know But you know You know All the words to every led zeppelin song
0
Apr 16, 2014
Apr 16, 2014 at 3:51 PM UTC
bri-devvy
led zeppelin lyrics
He doesn't know all the words To every led zeppelin song So he doesn't sing along with me While I'm belting out the lyrics He doesn't idolize jim morrison He doesn't love stevie nicks He doesn't listen to johnny cash He doesn't feed my mind He can't tell me something That I don't already know He doesn't bite his nails Or lick his lips He doesn't have long hair That I can twirl around my finger He doesn't know how much I adore my mom He doesn't know How much my father has hurt me He doesn't know I live solemnly for my siblings He doesn't know That I cry at night Because I hate my appearance He doesn't know The little things that make me laugh He doesn't know That the shawshank redemption Is my favorite movie He doesn't know That I hate wearing shoes He doesn't know Where I've been Or where I want to go He doesn't know i'm a big fish in a small pond and i'll never make it in the ocean He doesn't know all I ever wanted was to be loved and taken care of He doesn't know He's never going to know But you know You know All the words to every led zeppelin song
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45
She had magnetic innocence that pulled people to her in tides, people with broken lives and shawshank prisons in their heads, people with duct taped memories bursting against the seams. And yet.. she still wonders why she cries in rivers filled with their pain and her own.
0
Dec 8, 2015
Dec 8, 2015 at 11:40 PM UTC
TheBlackRaven
Innocence
She had magnetic innocence that pulled people to her in tides, people with broken lives and shawshank prisons in their heads, people with duct taped memories bursting against the seams. And yet.. she still wonders why she cries in rivers filled with their pain and her own.
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11
if we would've met at 16 our lives as teenagers would've been worlds different. we'd meet in the parking lot after school and we'd drive for a little, then hotbox in front of the pacific ocean. i'd play you all the stuff that i played on my weekly radio show and i'd ***** to you about how i was done with the world and every single lululemon wearing, frozen mocha drinking girl who thought i was inferior to her because i wasn't conventionally pretty, listened to anti-establishment punk rock of the 1970s and refused to straighten my hair even if my curls wouldn't quit that day. i didn't know you four years ago. you were the exact opposite of me, and honestly you probably would have avoided me - you put gel in your hair and you played sports, but you seemed like you might've been angry and sad for no apparent reason too. you were the same as you are now in some ways, you had the 24/7 off-duty model thing, you were smart, you bumped old school tunes, you knew old school sitcoms. i would've 100% been in love with you but i never would have done anything about it. all i wanted was someone that i could tell everything to, but nobody cared. knowing you could have eased the pain of the period of time in my life where i spent all my money on dime bags and twelve dollar packs of cigarettes and stability was the last thing on my mind and all i really wanted to do was dig a grave for myself. you probably would have never talked to me, but we would have been the coolest kids in the parking lot. and can i tell you like, the cheesiest sounding thing in the world? yeah? okay. i can't wait to run into you on a beach on the north shore of kauai in 50 years. "shawshank redemption" style. i hope we're friends forever.
0
Mar 8, 2018
Mar 8, 2018 at 2:35 PM UTC
doniakashkooli
age sixteen in a parking lot somewhere
if we would've met at 16 our lives as teenagers would've been worlds different. we'd meet in the parking lot after school and we'd drive for a little, then hotbox in front of the pacific ocean. i'd play you all the stuff that i played on my weekly radio show and i'd ***** to you about how i was done with the world and every single lululemon wearing, frozen mocha drinking girl who thought i was inferior to her because i wasn't conventionally pretty, listened to anti-establishment punk rock of the 1970s and refused to straighten my hair even if my curls wouldn't quit that day. i didn't know you four years ago. you were the exact opposite of me, and honestly you probably would have avoided me - you put gel in your hair and you played sports, but you seemed like you might've been angry and sad for no apparent reason too. you were the same as you are now in some ways, you had the 24/7 off-duty model thing, you were smart, you bumped old school tunes, you knew old school sitcoms. i would've 100% been in love with you but i never would have done anything about it. all i wanted was someone that i could tell everything to, but nobody cared. knowing you could have eased the pain of the period of time in my life where i spent all my money on dime bags and twelve dollar packs of cigarettes and stability was the last thing on my mind and all i really wanted to do was dig a grave for myself. you probably would have never talked to me, but we would have been the coolest kids in the parking lot. and can i tell you like, the cheesiest sounding thing in the world? yeah? okay. i can't wait to run into you on a beach on the north shore of kauai in 50 years. "shawshank redemption" style. i hope we're friends forever.
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3
THE SHAWSHANK REDEMPTION and CASABANCA are tied as my most favorite film I've ever seen in my life, Morgan Freeman and Tim Robbins in the former, Ingrid Bergman--the most beautiful woman I've ever seen--and Humphrey Bogart, a fellow Andover alum (he got kicked out his first year). THE SHAWSHANK REDEMPTION is, indeed, tied as my most favorite movie. But it's also a documentary. TOD HOWARD HAWKS
0
Feb 23, 2023
Feb 23, 2023 at 10:01 PM UTC
tod-howard-hawks
SHAWSHANK
THE SHAWSHANK REDEMPTION and CASABANCA are tied as my most favorite film I've ever seen in my life, Morgan Freeman and Tim Robbins in the former, Ingrid Bergman--the most beautiful woman I've ever seen--and Humphrey Bogart, a fellow Andover alum (he got kicked out his first year). THE SHAWSHANK REDEMPTION is, indeed, tied as my most favorite movie. But it's also a documentary. TOD HOWARD HAWKS
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4
I went to the place That looked like Shawshank The old hallways were a boor Yet strangeness still remains Sink's got clogged up The bathrooms Fifty years or so The movie section was odd I felt the distant show's But I had to get back Home Where all is safe and warm I went to the old Shawshank Where society still Mourns
0
Aug 10, 2015
Aug 10, 2015 at 5:15 PM UTC
tommy-jackson
Society still mourns
I went to the place That looked like Shawshank The old hallways were a boor Yet strangeness still remains Sink's got clogged up The bathrooms Fifty years or so The movie section was odd I felt the distant show's But I had to get back Home Where all is safe and warm I went to the old Shawshank Where society still Mourns
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16
ॐ..let the dragon fall asleep, shawshank redeem and sunrise(pillows) on the beach, breathing oxygen into heat and foul souls delete.. the Mün's still underrated, until sobriety faded Eye've. been noticing these lenses on me, reaping sowed grief whilst I'm too paranoid to care, too familiar w/the void to bare the voices and the noise.. copy of a copy version- Voltaire; only meta-physical deities make an unreal neguh feel naïve anyway, I'll keep my inner thoughts short&(bitter)sweet, unlike my (hue).man condition, when my heART beats through the concrete, doesn't really matter whether I bleed I'm ******* human on repeat/reincarnate "so to speak.." •two~thousand&seventeen(healing the poverty in your psyche.)
0
May 18, 2017
May 18, 2017 at 1:59 PM UTC
kingmoon
ॐ"twenty~seventeen bruh..(eye. promise ü bruh.)"//"Ambience 003."
ॐ..let the dragon fall asleep, shawshank redeem and sunrise(pillows) on the beach, breathing oxygen into heat and foul souls delete.. the Mün's still underrated, until sobriety faded Eye've. been noticing these lenses on me, reaping sowed grief whilst I'm too paranoid to care, too familiar w/the void to bare the voices and the noise.. copy of a copy version- Voltaire; only meta-physical deities make an unreal neguh feel naïve anyway, I'll keep my inner thoughts short&(bitter)sweet, unlike my (hue).man condition, when my heART beats through the concrete, doesn't really matter whether I bleed I'm ******* human on repeat/reincarnate "so to speak.." •two~thousand&seventeen(healing the poverty in your psyche.)
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19
Hope is what keeps me alive throughout my stint in life. Sheer hope. Hope and the presence of loved ones
0
Jun 25, 2019
Jun 25, 2019 at 5:03 PM UTC
FragileFrog
Shawshank
Hope is what keeps me alive throughout my stint in life. Sheer hope. Hope and the presence of loved ones
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1
.*but, once upon a time... i heard a woman say the words: i think....* sorry, no, whenever a woman says the words i think... rarely equates to but i also doubt, and the subsequent i exist... nope... i'm not buying this **** this bollocking of a statement... take your **** and let it stink its' way to rot, in some other ******* sandpit for the critters in daisy infused diaper... what? missing lavender?! oh no... i'm not a recluse, old, bitter... some kind of: shove it about, keep it quiet, shove it, **** on it etc.: keep it cloakroom friendly... i, am... puritanical... rage... what i i see? i see death... i see the anger of Charon: ****** you should have been with me just shy of 11 years! i'm not mad... but the death that's lucrative in chasing me is... exponentially pissed-off from the people and limp **** that my accusers / perpetrators are facing.... my wrath, and the deity's? breadcrumbs... sure as **** now Shawshank Redeption: of play, in order of the worth of tactic. i'll die.. and justice will not be served.. hence? theology overpowers jurisprudence... sorry... Eden lost the bet... man is no judge... man will never serve a justification of serving the idea / ideal of blind justice... lessons from a "blind" god... whatever blind justice doesn't see... a god, that has to only take a break, from not focusing on a non-existence argument... which... well... no proof... let's be honest... and turns his attention to man, the favor of law, and the upkeep... man only discovered the law of gravity... man didn't invent it... the consistency of the law of gravity... well... ha ha... what were all the other laws conjured up by man?! thought so... grey area... fuzzy brain.
0
Oct 19, 2018
Oct 19, 2018 at 7:55 PM UTC
removed.polaroid-scrabble
limp bizkit: the one
.*but, once upon a time... i heard a woman say the words: i think....* sorry, no, whenever a woman says the words i think... rarely equates to but i also doubt, and the subsequent i exist... nope... i'm not buying this **** this bollocking of a statement... take your **** and let it stink its' way to rot, in some other ******* sandpit for the critters in daisy infused diaper... what? missing lavender?! oh no... i'm not a recluse, old, bitter... some kind of: shove it about, keep it quiet, shove it, **** on it etc.: keep it cloakroom friendly... i, am... puritanical... rage... what i i see? i see death... i see the anger of Charon: ****** you should have been with me just shy of 11 years! i'm not mad... but the death that's lucrative in chasing me is... exponentially pissed-off from the people and limp **** that my accusers / perpetrators are facing.... my wrath, and the deity's? breadcrumbs... sure as **** now Shawshank Redeption: of play, in order of the worth of tactic. i'll die.. and justice will not be served.. hence? theology overpowers jurisprudence... sorry... Eden lost the bet... man is no judge... man will never serve a justification of serving the idea / ideal of blind justice... lessons from a "blind" god... whatever blind justice doesn't see... a god, that has to only take a break, from not focusing on a non-existence argument... which... well... no proof... let's be honest... and turns his attention to man, the favor of law, and the upkeep... man only discovered the law of gravity... man didn't invent it... the consistency of the law of gravity... well... ha ha... what were all the other laws conjured up by man?! thought so... grey area... fuzzy brain.
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