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"threatened" poems
,***how do you know when (a human is too broken?)*** <•> human too broken? like the light bulb, removal from its fixture, a simple shaking revelation of the tinkling filament spent, something that cannot be repaired, the only option is replacement and that makes you cry the empty box of oatmeal raisin cookies, you find secret’d, hid by you, not to be found by you at the bottom of the kitchen garbage, but box betrayal, by the chartreuse tipped box lid sided peeking upwards, asking, silencing screaming, what did I do to deserve this degrading like the blouse now too tight that it brings stares as the buttons strain, unwelcome attention unintended, you know it but still pretend not to see, for you both once loved that silky guise that so heightened the high tender, the match of your pink rose skin letting, no! making your eyes glisten, like broken filament glass, on the sidewalk, recalling the pleasured admiration, rain remembered from the prior priority of a life consisting of only perfect gifts so mean revert to the poseur question; this is how... remove the human from a fixed place, whimpering-threatened, you may hear clear the crackle cackling  of the innard shards against the misperception of a body intact, even if you do, no repair service you want,  can be found, see it nowhere, is it even anywhere advertised? the body presumed intact is secret’d under a tactile coverlet, holey scupperrd holy cuttered so that the cells and bicuspids, the threads no longer function in a tandem, you keep it in the closet closed, in the back, deep hid, where, when it screams why, it can be safe ignored, because  ‘betrayed’ is no longer a word, in your globe's dictionary, the parental controls activated by you to save your own inner child’s unconstrained confusion, it has been removed so the broken glass, the clothes you dressed each other, if not weep-well, well enough hid, the fit is off, the fit is off, the coverlet ripped so bad and neither cares
0
Aug 5, 2018
Aug 5, 2018 at 11:17 AM UTC
how do you know when (a human is too broken?)
,***how do you know when (a human is too broken?)*** <•> human too broken? like the light bulb, removal from its fixture, a simple shaking revelation of the tinkling filament spent, something that cannot be repaired, the only option is replacement and that makes you cry the empty box of oatmeal raisin cookies, you find secret’d, hid by you, not to be found by you at the bottom of the kitchen garbage, but box betrayal, by the chartreuse tipped box lid sided peeking upwards, asking, silencing screaming, what did I do to deserve this degrading like the blouse now too tight that it brings stares as the buttons strain, unwelcome attention unintended, you know it but still pretend not to see, for you both once loved that silky guise that so heightened the high tender, the match of your pink rose skin letting, no! making your eyes glisten, like broken filament glass, on the sidewalk, recalling the pleasured admiration, rain remembered from the prior priority of a life consisting of only perfect gifts so mean revert to the poseur question; this is how... remove the human from a fixed place, whimpering-threatened, you may hear clear the crackle cackling  of the innard shards against the misperception of a body intact, even if you do, no repair service you want,  can be found, see it nowhere, is it even anywhere advertised? the body presumed intact is secret’d under a tactile coverlet, holey scupperrd holy cuttered so that the cells and bicuspids, the threads no longer function in a tandem, you keep it in the closet closed, in the back, deep hid, where, when it screams why, it can be safe ignored, because  ‘betrayed’ is no longer a word, in your globe's dictionary, the parental controls activated by you to save your own inner child’s unconstrained confusion, it has been removed so the broken glass, the clothes you dressed each other, if not weep-well, well enough hid, the fit is off, the fit is off, the coverlet ripped so bad and neither cares
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48
The river winds in from distant lands With mercyless power it turns stone to sand Through its mysterious life, the very earth it commands And Yet the fearful river still runs through our hands. In torrents of furry where the deepest currents flow The rivers wild waters surge with woe. For Onward, forever, its destined to go A permenant home it won't ever know. The river runs from each of us As a refugee of fear, It knows in a blink it will be somewhere else Its waves are really its tears. It runs from the audacity   Of the selfish human mind As Its massive life capacity, Of flora and fauna combined, Are threatened by our antics and helpless to our crime So the river runs on their behalf, from everyone, in time- even within its whitecap foam Water's yearning for a home So roam does the water- endlessly, till its long gone out of sight The essential droplets of the river- Nomads day and night.
0
Jun 26, 2018
Jun 26, 2018 at 11:55 AM UTC
From What the River Runs
Dear Pickle, You are making my face sour. Mom is mad at you for skipping school and I have to talk her down again. Maybe next time you can write me a 1200 word essay on "How stupid your decisions are", So I can mark it up with red pen before you lose grades on your ribs. Sister, you need to calm your *** down, because the world isn't a race and the underdog doesn't always come in first, or even second. But take a second to stop breathing that smoke you call air, everybody is choking on the smell of teen-spirit. The tattoos not yet ingaved in your skin will serve as a reminder of how you took last place in a family full of sharp broken pieces of glass. I tell Mom "Don't worry, it's just a phase, she just needs a second to find her place, in this world" But, at this rate, I'm not sure you will. Because, people will knock on your door and hand you bottles of quick fixes and Novocaine, and I hope that this poem isn't in vain to serve as a reminder of that little girl that still caught fireflies in her teeth. And I am sorry I left for 3 years without watching your molecules multiply, but I wrote my times tables on the back of my diploma for you to study. That 6 year old girl with woodland creature cheeks hasn't been forgotten. That 6 year old girl who never failed to puke in the car after a glass of milk hasn't been forgotten. That 6 year old girl that cried every time we told anyone you are cat food under the kitchen table hasn't been forgotten. I am sorry, can you bring her back now? And for me, could you stop making Mom cry, she has watered so many Forget-me-nots that I am afraid her roots are drowning. Don't get me wrong. I appreciate all the time you bared swords and shields to defend me against the stereotypes that threatened to staple them themselves to the inside of our cheeks, but come on...get your **** together. We are blood-brothers...with vaginas. Don't you dare break that bond because if you do I will lock you in the closet, turn the lights of and leave you in there screaming and crying until the rebellion leaves your bladder. I'm your sister, not your mother. I will not birth any more brother screw-ups for you to father. Love, Vinegar.
0
Sep 3, 2012
Sep 3, 2012 at 2:39 PM UTC
A Letter To A Younger Sister
Dear Pickle, You are making my face sour. Mom is mad at you for skipping school and I have to talk her down again. Maybe next time you can write me a 1200 word essay on "How stupid your decisions are", So I can mark it up with red pen before you lose grades on your ribs. Sister, you need to calm your *** down, because the world isn't a race and the underdog doesn't always come in first, or even second. But take a second to stop breathing that smoke you call air, everybody is choking on the smell of teen-spirit. The tattoos not yet ingaved in your skin will serve as a reminder of how you took last place in a family full of sharp broken pieces of glass. I tell Mom "Don't worry, it's just a phase, she just needs a second to find her place, in this world" But, at this rate, I'm not sure you will. Because, people will knock on your door and hand you bottles of quick fixes and Novocaine, and I hope that this poem isn't in vain to serve as a reminder of that little girl that still caught fireflies in her teeth. And I am sorry I left for 3 years without watching your molecules multiply, but I wrote my times tables on the back of my diploma for you to study. That 6 year old girl with woodland creature cheeks hasn't been forgotten. That 6 year old girl who never failed to puke in the car after a glass of milk hasn't been forgotten. That 6 year old girl that cried every time we told anyone you are cat food under the kitchen table hasn't been forgotten. I am sorry, can you bring her back now? And for me, could you stop making Mom cry, she has watered so many Forget-me-nots that I am afraid her roots are drowning. Don't get me wrong. I appreciate all the time you bared swords and shields to defend me against the stereotypes that threatened to staple them themselves to the inside of our cheeks, but come on...get your **** together. We are blood-brothers...with vaginas. Don't you dare break that bond because if you do I will lock you in the closet, turn the lights of and leave you in there screaming and crying until the rebellion leaves your bladder. I'm your sister, not your mother. I will not birth any more brother screw-ups for you to father. Love, Vinegar.
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20
Nobody marching toward us Their guns making us die. No tanks are come clanking No bombers in the sky. But our Congress and generals When oil or bases seem needed; We appear armed and threatening Peace and love talk not heeded. No country has attacked us With troops and lethal artillery. But our leaders expect us to Go open up their arteries And **** their women and children And laugh while they all die And we are expected to do this And never think to ask why. It’s almost like big companies Were sad when WW2 ended So they started attacking countries We really should have befriended. We let Russia have free reign To **** and ****** and steal Almost as if their aggression Wasn’t really true or even real. We looked around and made them, Those evil old warlike excuses, That some country threatened freedom And we pretended they weren’t ruses. We attacked Korea and Vietnam We were just supposed to observe That they were yellow people there And think they got what they deserved. We didn’t stop there, as Reagan took A duly elected leader and put him in jail. If any country did that to our country The conservatives would howl and rail. Then the Bushes tried their best to take Iraq to steal their oil and punish them And created an era of stronger hatred And anti-American outrage and mayhem. No foreign country has attacked America; So, the point bears repeating once again. We need to stop acting like bullies here And start acting like decent statesmen And women who have the bigger picture; The growth of peace in our battered world So, other countries will not take their guns And shoot our flag when it’s unfurled.
0
Sep 26, 2018
Sep 26, 2018 at 4:56 PM UTC
THE BIG LIE OF WAR
Nobody marching toward us Their guns making us die. No tanks are come clanking No bombers in the sky. But our Congress and generals When oil or bases seem needed; We appear armed and threatening Peace and love talk not heeded. No country has attacked us With troops and lethal artillery. But our leaders expect us to Go open up their arteries And **** their women and children And laugh while they all die And we are expected to do this And never think to ask why. It’s almost like big companies Were sad when WW2 ended So they started attacking countries We really should have befriended. We let Russia have free reign To **** and ****** and steal Almost as if their aggression Wasn’t really true or even real. We looked around and made them, Those evil old warlike excuses, That some country threatened freedom And we pretended they weren’t ruses. We attacked Korea and Vietnam We were just supposed to observe That they were yellow people there And think they got what they deserved. We didn’t stop there, as Reagan took A duly elected leader and put him in jail. If any country did that to our country The conservatives would howl and rail. Then the Bushes tried their best to take Iraq to steal their oil and punish them And created an era of stronger hatred And anti-American outrage and mayhem. No foreign country has attacked America; So, the point bears repeating once again. We need to stop acting like bullies here And start acting like decent statesmen And women who have the bigger picture; The growth of peace in our battered world So, other countries will not take their guns And shoot our flag when it’s unfurled.
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48
The flame in my flesh burns tor like Above conventions of average humanity, Propelled to hatred of their opposite By the pristine charm in the streaks of culture, Their Florence comes from the glory of orthodoxities In the time long fibres of religious pockets, Islam, Christian, Hinduism and all that steadily And firmly in piety aver perfection of Godliness, Forgetting the flame of same *** with oral spice In the God made flesh of the dear lesbian daughter, Spell binding the equivalent in blossoms of the gay, Provoking hatred from the threatened heterosexists, But the oral *** of a lesbian is an apex of human pleasure Surpassing all on earth and in heaven, as no human barricade Of whatsoever caliber will cull lesbian’s feelings From the glorious power in the genitals on kiss of lips, As the tongue of the chic wag from side to other Touching fountains of ****** glory in cement of sameness Throwing threats of law and black order to dustbins And trash yards of anachronisms as the power of LGBT Engulfs the young world into in its protégé, Shamelessly tethered on the sensual tentacles Of maximum gusto in the ***** of oral *** with a dear ‘less’ In tune with all rhythms of the times Remaining strange to the conservatives, Ever seeking pleasure from where pain hails Living gloomy life on a brink of melancholia, Worry not lesbian daughter you are powerful, In one away or so, rise up and walk tall You have power in your oral *** Oral *** Oral *** Oral *** of a lesbian!
0
Jul 11, 2014
Jul 11, 2014 at 4:43 AM UTC
TOP LESBIAN'S ODE TO ORAL ***
The flame in my flesh burns tor like Above conventions of average humanity, Propelled to hatred of their opposite By the pristine charm in the streaks of culture, Their Florence comes from the glory of orthodoxities In the time long fibres of religious pockets, Islam, Christian, Hinduism and all that steadily And firmly in piety aver perfection of Godliness, Forgetting the flame of same *** with oral spice In the God made flesh of the dear lesbian daughter, Spell binding the equivalent in blossoms of the gay, Provoking hatred from the threatened heterosexists, But the oral *** of a lesbian is an apex of human pleasure Surpassing all on earth and in heaven, as no human barricade Of whatsoever caliber will cull lesbian’s feelings From the glorious power in the genitals on kiss of lips, As the tongue of the chic wag from side to other Touching fountains of ****** glory in cement of sameness Throwing threats of law and black order to dustbins And trash yards of anachronisms as the power of LGBT Engulfs the young world into in its protégé, Shamelessly tethered on the sensual tentacles Of maximum gusto in the ***** of oral *** with a dear ‘less’ In tune with all rhythms of the times Remaining strange to the conservatives, Ever seeking pleasure from where pain hails Living gloomy life on a brink of melancholia, Worry not lesbian daughter you are powerful, In one away or so, rise up and walk tall You have power in your oral *** Oral *** Oral *** Oral *** of a lesbian!
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31
Seek freedom from the anxious mind For, you have the freedom to choose Break the shackles of intimidation Claim your freedom for the sleeping madness Wake up to a world of freedom, for it’s yours Freedom for the prejudices and the dogmas Claim your freedom for the untrusting world Freedom beckons you from the deepest caverns Thwart the advances of violence, and seize freedom Do not pay heed to the abusive words As your freedom to speak up is jeopardized The weakest of hearts and minds, resort to violence And their abode inside is wrecked by loss of freedom You freedom will come when you walk out Opening the gates of your heart to freedom The weak personalities seeks to strangle freedom To dominate the beautiful souls, as they feel threatened Assert your freedom; this is becoming a puppet’s world Always made to act when the strings are pulled There is a world full of love and freedom waiting for you You just have to cross the threshold of the murky world Only you can win your freedom, if you choose to Seek freedom, and slam the door on the world of captivity © Amitav (Radiance)
0
May 8, 2014
May 8, 2014 at 5:56 AM UTC
Freedom
My parents gave me a pink childhood framed with lace and luxury-- but a black stain has spread there, deep as the amount of time I’ve spent thinking about what people are capable of, and how they can stand hanging a mirror in every bathroom, because water cannot clean people of the lie they told their brother or the betrayal inflicted against their friend, some wrongs of which may never be realized, but will always remain in the form of a new freckle on my left cheek or shadow beneath my eye. And I am sorry, because I should have sooner heeded my mother’s words when she told me I was the moral compass grounding you stonedust streets. Your childhood resembled a light bulb broken before it tasted electricity, no one taught you North from South and how different the terrain may become when you find yourself in the mountains with only sandals on your feet. I had been that for you, and you told me as much every weekend we spent riding in the bed of my father’s pickup truck and shouting against wind-gusts that threatened to carry our voices away from one another-- I have sinced learned there are many ways to **** a person. I killed you when I stole your sense of direction like floorboards from beneath your cracked and bleeding feet, and allowed you to fall--who knows how far-- landing in a pile of skin-biting needles and leftover sediment, the very bottom of brown-glass bottles strewn across the floor. Staying would have saved you, I’m sure, and I’ll never forget that I turned away out of fear, cowardice, because I hated the sight of your skin-and-bone crowd, friends in name but not in heart, and left you lost among them, And you who knew no better remained, your humanity expelled with each smoke-laden breath and then evaporating, nonextant.
0
Jan 21, 2015
Jan 21, 2015 at 7:45 PM UTC
The Second Macbeth
My parents gave me a pink childhood framed with lace and luxury-- but a black stain has spread there, deep as the amount of time I’ve spent thinking about what people are capable of, and how they can stand hanging a mirror in every bathroom, because water cannot clean people of the lie they told their brother or the betrayal inflicted against their friend, some wrongs of which may never be realized, but will always remain in the form of a new freckle on my left cheek or shadow beneath my eye. And I am sorry, because I should have sooner heeded my mother’s words when she told me I was the moral compass grounding you stonedust streets. Your childhood resembled a light bulb broken before it tasted electricity, no one taught you North from South and how different the terrain may become when you find yourself in the mountains with only sandals on your feet. I had been that for you, and you told me as much every weekend we spent riding in the bed of my father’s pickup truck and shouting against wind-gusts that threatened to carry our voices away from one another-- I have sinced learned there are many ways to **** a person. I killed you when I stole your sense of direction like floorboards from beneath your cracked and bleeding feet, and allowed you to fall--who knows how far-- landing in a pile of skin-biting needles and leftover sediment, the very bottom of brown-glass bottles strewn across the floor. Staying would have saved you, I’m sure, and I’ll never forget that I turned away out of fear, cowardice, because I hated the sight of your skin-and-bone crowd, friends in name but not in heart, and left you lost among them, And you who knew no better remained, your humanity expelled with each smoke-laden breath and then evaporating, nonextant.
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25
“I'm big, you're little. I'm smart, you're dumb. I'm right, you're wrong.” This is what you've taught me, but I've learned another way. I try to be so peaceful, I practice every day. I've been through quite a lot, And I've had to be so strong. My message must have gotten lost, been fighting for so long. You raised me as a woman, Yet you treat me like a man The way that I'm reacting often goes against my plan. I'm trying to reach out and you call it my excuse. What you see as parenting, Feels like abuse. I feel very threatened and begin to snap back; I realize my mistake too late, I try hard to retract. I need some space to breathe, I need a little air... You get so worked up; leaving no room for repair. I try to walk away, I try to be alone, But you will never let it be And that is set in stone. I feel backed into a corner, As though I have been trapped. You push me all my life And expect that I won't snap. I am very agile, But I am just a person. I try to learn to bend so the problem will not worsen. You think that I'm rebellious And full of disrespect Whenever I'm defensive As I am made upset. I don't want to feel scared And I don't want to feel pain, Once you introduce those feelings It can drive a girl insane. I'm sorry that I haven't turned out quite how you expected. My problems are ignored And my person feels rejected. Expose me to the anger of which I have been subjected... I forget why I'm hurting and I follow your objective. The things that I'm saying are just sitting in my head, You may not remember them as things that you once said. I don't mean to preach and I don't try to follow, But your anger is so loud That I find mine hard to swallow. I'll leave if you need me to, But that's not what i need. I want to coexist with you, I'm just not up to your speed. I need love and I need patience, But you have your own issues And you cannot face this. It's chalked down to "He's old and he'll never change his ways" If this isn't an excuse, I don't know what more to say. You think that we are different, but we are quite the same. You don't see yourself in me And I find that quite strange. You say I make my problems Into someone else's, While doing just the same... Am I the only one who is selfish? I never mean to do or say the things that I have I wish that you could help me out, but you are just my dad. You are who you are, no matter who it affects. I just have to get over it, as everyone expects. I'll try not to be like you; Try to avoid all of your habits. The idea is in front of me, I just can't seem to grab it.
0
Apr 28, 2017
Apr 28, 2017 at 8:08 AM UTC
Rotted Apple and the Stubborn Tree.
“I'm big, you're little. I'm smart, you're dumb. I'm right, you're wrong.” This is what you've taught me, but I've learned another way. I try to be so peaceful, I practice every day. I've been through quite a lot, And I've had to be so strong. My message must have gotten lost, been fighting for so long. You raised me as a woman, Yet you treat me like a man The way that I'm reacting often goes against my plan. I'm trying to reach out and you call it my excuse. What you see as parenting, Feels like abuse. I feel very threatened and begin to snap back; I realize my mistake too late, I try hard to retract. I need some space to breathe, I need a little air... You get so worked up; leaving no room for repair. I try to walk away, I try to be alone, But you will never let it be And that is set in stone. I feel backed into a corner, As though I have been trapped. You push me all my life And expect that I won't snap. I am very agile, But I am just a person. I try to learn to bend so the problem will not worsen. You think that I'm rebellious And full of disrespect Whenever I'm defensive As I am made upset. I don't want to feel scared And I don't want to feel pain, Once you introduce those feelings It can drive a girl insane. I'm sorry that I haven't turned out quite how you expected. My problems are ignored And my person feels rejected. Expose me to the anger of which I have been subjected... I forget why I'm hurting and I follow your objective. The things that I'm saying are just sitting in my head, You may not remember them as things that you once said. I don't mean to preach and I don't try to follow, But your anger is so loud That I find mine hard to swallow. I'll leave if you need me to, But that's not what i need. I want to coexist with you, I'm just not up to your speed. I need love and I need patience, But you have your own issues And you cannot face this. It's chalked down to "He's old and he'll never change his ways" If this isn't an excuse, I don't know what more to say. You think that we are different, but we are quite the same. You don't see yourself in me And I find that quite strange. You say I make my problems Into someone else's, While doing just the same... Am I the only one who is selfish? I never mean to do or say the things that I have I wish that you could help me out, but you are just my dad. You are who you are, no matter who it affects. I just have to get over it, as everyone expects. I'll try not to be like you; Try to avoid all of your habits. The idea is in front of me, I just can't seem to grab it.
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95
I was on my way to a party Dressed in heels and a crop top When I entered the corner store To purchase some snacks And on my way to the cashier A man standing in an aisle Browsing through peanuts Glanced up and stopped mid-search When I clicked past him And proceeded to uncomfortably stare I walked into the gas station Wearing dark wash jeans and a v-neck With my best friend at 2 AM When two drunken men stumbled in And began eyeing us up and smirking My friend leaned in to me and whispered, "I'm really scared." Overhearing her, one man elbowed the other And with a smile on his face taunted, "Oh no, we're scaring them." I was at the laundry mat one night Wearing shorts and a baggy shirt When a middle aged man across the room Kept gawking at me from over the washers Uneasy, I went outside to smoke To which he stood at the window And kept a close eye on me I called a friend and stayed on the phone Because I was afraid to go back And get my clothes alone I stepped out of my vehicle In my sweatpants and flipflops To grab some cigarettes quick When a white bearded man Was already at my heels "Hey, how're you honey?" I quickly replied, "fine". And hurried into the store Without looking back It seems like every time I leave the house It doesn't matter what I'm wearing It could be "provocative" or a burlap sack I always end up feeling threatened Heartbeat in my ears Cold sweat on my back So don't blame it on my outfit Don't blame it on my actions Because I'm not asking for it I just want to be left alone
0
Jul 21, 2015
Jul 21, 2015 at 8:34 AM UTC
****** Harassment 101
I was on my way to a party Dressed in heels and a crop top When I entered the corner store To purchase some snacks And on my way to the cashier A man standing in an aisle Browsing through peanuts Glanced up and stopped mid-search When I clicked past him And proceeded to uncomfortably stare I walked into the gas station Wearing dark wash jeans and a v-neck With my best friend at 2 AM When two drunken men stumbled in And began eyeing us up and smirking My friend leaned in to me and whispered, "I'm really scared." Overhearing her, one man elbowed the other And with a smile on his face taunted, "Oh no, we're scaring them." I was at the laundry mat one night Wearing shorts and a baggy shirt When a middle aged man across the room Kept gawking at me from over the washers Uneasy, I went outside to smoke To which he stood at the window And kept a close eye on me I called a friend and stayed on the phone Because I was afraid to go back And get my clothes alone I stepped out of my vehicle In my sweatpants and flipflops To grab some cigarettes quick When a white bearded man Was already at my heels "Hey, how're you honey?" I quickly replied, "fine". And hurried into the store Without looking back It seems like every time I leave the house It doesn't matter what I'm wearing It could be "provocative" or a burlap sack I always end up feeling threatened Heartbeat in my ears Cold sweat on my back So don't blame it on my outfit Don't blame it on my actions Because I'm not asking for it I just want to be left alone
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49
You are a fool. In one month's time I bet you will be heartbroken. I warned you countless times. I threatened you more than necessary. I just want you to be happy, but you believe you love her. It's a shame really, that you're this blinded. You will not be happy, all you're doing is grasping at temporary affection. And all temporary affection leaves you with is a bad taste in the back of your mouth.
0
Dec 15, 2014
Dec 15, 2014 at 10:07 PM UTC
Temporary Affection
Father could reprogram all six billion of us if He felt the  need, anytime In fact that's exactly what He did at Babel when our dodgy one-accord threatened to bring the end nearer than the six millenniums of earthtime He'd allocated for us to seek His truth He even re-wired Balak for a minute to hear his donkey speak and think of the Assyrians that fled when He caused four lepers to sound like a mighty mercenary army coming to rescue Jerusalem YHWH is omnipotent, like it not The reason He's not 'interfering' right now is simply because His plan is dead on time He intends to blow the chaff from  His wheat The true wheat, His remnant that stays faithful (through Revelations and the mark) will form a new constitution when Yeshua returns for a thousand years of peace on earth You may think "Oh I'll wait and see if it's true, like, if the two witnesses really die and then rise again in three days" Problem with that approach is simple You could be brainwashed before then The neurophone is widely used today Think of 911, why Bush isn't impeached and read surveillanceissues.com Those of us who really care will continue to bug you and **** your spirit Hopefully you'll make the right choice and refuse the mark of the beast Consider these things while there's time 'After me the storm' won't cut it There are less than three short years to go * Gen 6:3 And Jehovah said, My spirit shall not always strive with man, in his erring; he is flesh. Yet his days shall be a hundred and twenty years. The 120 years referred to here in fact represent 120 jubilees, or 6000 years (2000 from Adam to the flood, 2000 from the flood to Yeshua and 2000 from Yeshua till 2017)
0
Jun 3, 2010
Jun 3, 2010 at 2:37 AM UTC
Who's in charge here ?
Father could reprogram all six billion of us if He felt the  need, anytime In fact that's exactly what He did at Babel when our dodgy one-accord threatened to bring the end nearer than the six millenniums of earthtime He'd allocated for us to seek His truth He even re-wired Balak for a minute to hear his donkey speak and think of the Assyrians that fled when He caused four lepers to sound like a mighty mercenary army coming to rescue Jerusalem YHWH is omnipotent, like it not The reason He's not 'interfering' right now is simply because His plan is dead on time He intends to blow the chaff from  His wheat The true wheat, His remnant that stays faithful (through Revelations and the mark) will form a new constitution when Yeshua returns for a thousand years of peace on earth You may think "Oh I'll wait and see if it's true, like, if the two witnesses really die and then rise again in three days" Problem with that approach is simple You could be brainwashed before then The neurophone is widely used today Think of 911, why Bush isn't impeached and read surveillanceissues.com Those of us who really care will continue to bug you and **** your spirit Hopefully you'll make the right choice and refuse the mark of the beast Consider these things while there's time 'After me the storm' won't cut it There are less than three short years to go * Gen 6:3 And Jehovah said, My spirit shall not always strive with man, in his erring; he is flesh. Yet his days shall be a hundred and twenty years. The 120 years referred to here in fact represent 120 jubilees, or 6000 years (2000 from Adam to the flood, 2000 from the flood to Yeshua and 2000 from Yeshua till 2017)
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38
Walking down the street Wanting something to eat See a homeless man Sitting in the heat I get sad for a second Then the old man beckoned Do you have any money I smiled, not feeling threatened I reach out my hand Hit him with a bottle Took his 3.50 And hit up McDonalds
0
May 15, 2015
May 15, 2015 at 6:48 PM UTC
In the Heat
I am not in the business of being you or him or her or they we doesn't even really interest me. you hated me within the first 20 minutes like a shallow predator experiencing virginal danger you have the limbic system of a prey obvious to anyone in touch with their senses. you were threatened- you cracked a joke and among the robotic laughter and among the generic thoughts I stood back, blank-faced a novel piece of art you haven't the ability to muster up the courage to understand. aloud, I said it wasn't funny which I'm sure your emptiness already betrayed in a booming, and terrifying fashion *(I'm an intellectual sadist- I get off watching you squirm)* you know enough, that you have no basis that the status quo is the stale stream you do nothing but soak in. you're superficiality is so pervasive that your thoughts are unfilled, plastic discarded long ago by anyone with stamina (you're a carbon-copy of a Xeroxed person) looking the same as the others of your degenerate breed with much less vibrancy than the original and far less worth. your boundaries have been in place for so long passed down by generations of generations of generations great-great-granddaddy's barbed wire is the only thing protecting your prejudice. you're not funny- you're scared ashamed and lonesome. ashamed of the person you wish you could be but don't have the strength-or the guts to morph into lonesome because even yourself is someone you don't feel close to you are so basically human. I have no pity. for you are no Muse.
0
Apr 24, 2013
Apr 24, 2013 at 10:07 AM UTC
Intellectual Sadist.
I am not in the business of being you or him or her or they we doesn't even really interest me. you hated me within the first 20 minutes like a shallow predator experiencing virginal danger you have the limbic system of a prey obvious to anyone in touch with their senses. you were threatened- you cracked a joke and among the robotic laughter and among the generic thoughts I stood back, blank-faced a novel piece of art you haven't the ability to muster up the courage to understand. aloud, I said it wasn't funny which I'm sure your emptiness already betrayed in a booming, and terrifying fashion *(I'm an intellectual sadist- I get off watching you squirm)* you know enough, that you have no basis that the status quo is the stale stream you do nothing but soak in. you're superficiality is so pervasive that your thoughts are unfilled, plastic discarded long ago by anyone with stamina (you're a carbon-copy of a Xeroxed person) looking the same as the others of your degenerate breed with much less vibrancy than the original and far less worth. your boundaries have been in place for so long passed down by generations of generations of generations great-great-granddaddy's barbed wire is the only thing protecting your prejudice. you're not funny- you're scared ashamed and lonesome. ashamed of the person you wish you could be but don't have the strength-or the guts to morph into lonesome because even yourself is someone you don't feel close to you are so basically human. I have no pity. for you are no Muse.
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46
Just because I’m vulnerable doesn’t mean I’m weak. Just because I don’t cry in front of you doesn’t mean I don’t have feelings. Just because I don’t speak up doesn’t mean I don’t have anything to say. Just because I don’t react doesn’t mean I don’t know how to tear you apart. Just because I smile doesn’t mean you can walk on me. Just because I don’t hurt you back doesn’t mean I lack masculinity. Just because you say I am fat doesn’t make me ugly. Not uglier than your soul. Just because you say I’m feminine doesn’t make my gender redundant. I’m more a man than you’ll ever be, choking on your insecurities. Getting kicks out of putting other people down, everytime you feel threatened by the vastness of the world. Just because I don’t stop you doesn’t mean you can go back to doing what you did. Just because I am me. And not the version of me, You want me to be. Just because I am me. And just because I don’t roar doesn’t mean I’m not strong. I’m more than capable of ripping you to shreds, with my weaponry of words. Just because.
0
May 4, 2017
May 4, 2017 at 1:43 AM UTC
Gender Roles.
Hope arrived... limping severely. The journey had been quite long, Searching for Something to hold on to. Hope was weak but would not give up, There is always hope, no matter how small. For: ”Hope springs eternal”. Faith was greatly weakened and vulnerable, Wounded by the words of discouragement. Naysayers of the day were chipping away. Faith needed help to overcome Doubt. Lurking close by... and closing in.... Keep the Faith Baby! Love felt lonely and threatened. In need of some friends to lean on. The days were long and dreary with Hate knocking at everyone's door. Love glimpsed Faith approaching and knew Hope was not far behind. Hope, Faith, Love; Together, they formed a bond and Began flourishing once again! Together, they opened the door of the heart in need of repair. Together, they rescued a heart, Filling it to overflowing. Love began to grow and blossom, Bringing Light to the darkened heart. Hope, walking tall and standing straight, Began to breath deep again. Faith leaped forward with renewed vigor to guard the Heart's door The Three Musketeers... together... Unstoppable... Conquer the world.
0
Aug 16, 2010
Aug 16, 2010 at 3:12 PM UTC
The Three Musketeers
The name Theodore has its Greek anthropologies, Jewish anthropologies and also Germany anthropologies. The Greek anthropological perspective of The name Theodore indeed has something to do with the gods.However, the Greek way of looking at life was a frustrated thinking.To them everything was a god. They had  a plethora of gods; utopia,cacotopia, Thespis, muse, clio, calypso, and Theodore was a half a god like Gabriel who impregnanted Mary on behalf of God as Joseph the cuckold carpenter patiently looked musing the ballad of a cuckold peasant . So Theodore and Gabriel were godsend.I  have not delved to know what it means among the Jews, But am aware of the the cultural and anthropological surroundings of the name Theodore in Germany . It is a name of a male person  signifying extra-masculine behavior. I also write poetry in Deutsch, so i know  substantial cultural values of the people of Germany.  Like in this case the modern  social  naming systems . I am aware of the anthropology of this Deutsch nomenclatural position.Why would link this name to Greeks but not Germany may due to  some silent social and emotional  disposition in Europe  that the  English speaking Europeans have a soft spot for  the Greek culture.While at the same time they become victims of high adrenaline level when exposed to anything Germany. they always get repulsed when the word Germany is mentioned.So one's  thesis on nomenclatural values of the name Theodore depends on which side of European  consciousness one is found; is it Germany friendly consciousness or Germany threatened consciousness? The dystopic component of the name Theodore is purely cacotopic with zero element of utopia , as extra-masculinity is a swine of  engendered civilization  all the times. Yours Alexander  k  Opicho NB/ i kindly  invite Theodore to come to  Kenya so that we do a joint research on the Swahili perspectives of the name Theodore, in Kiswahili the name Theodore  is subverted to bwana tadayo
0
Jan 22, 2014
Jan 22, 2014 at 10:57 AM UTC
poetic dystopia and the name theodore
The name Theodore has its Greek anthropologies, Jewish anthropologies and also Germany anthropologies. The Greek anthropological perspective of The name Theodore indeed has something to do with the gods.However, the Greek way of looking at life was a frustrated thinking.To them everything was a god. They had  a plethora of gods; utopia,cacotopia, Thespis, muse, clio, calypso, and Theodore was a half a god like Gabriel who impregnanted Mary on behalf of God as Joseph the cuckold carpenter patiently looked musing the ballad of a cuckold peasant . So Theodore and Gabriel were godsend.I  have not delved to know what it means among the Jews, But am aware of the the cultural and anthropological surroundings of the name Theodore in Germany . It is a name of a male person  signifying extra-masculine behavior. I also write poetry in Deutsch, so i know  substantial cultural values of the people of Germany.  Like in this case the modern  social  naming systems . I am aware of the anthropology of this Deutsch nomenclatural position.Why would link this name to Greeks but not Germany may due to  some silent social and emotional  disposition in Europe  that the  English speaking Europeans have a soft spot for  the Greek culture.While at the same time they become victims of high adrenaline level when exposed to anything Germany. they always get repulsed when the word Germany is mentioned.So one's  thesis on nomenclatural values of the name Theodore depends on which side of European  consciousness one is found; is it Germany friendly consciousness or Germany threatened consciousness? The dystopic component of the name Theodore is purely cacotopic with zero element of utopia , as extra-masculinity is a swine of  engendered civilization  all the times. Yours Alexander  k  Opicho NB/ i kindly  invite Theodore to come to  Kenya so that we do a joint research on the Swahili perspectives of the name Theodore, in Kiswahili the name Theodore  is subverted to bwana tadayo
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4
Bravery I thought I was brave with the scars to prove it. My legacy - broken bones, split knuckles, black eyes and loose teeth. Adulation and respect. I fought both man and isms Never backed down. But a black man, driving an Uber taught me the truth of true bravery. Harassed, insulted, threatened by a low-life passenger, white racism covered in a cheap suit and tie, he refused to take the bait. He denied himself the pleasure of justified violence. He told me his story - and anger for him, righteous indignation, crashed over me in furious waves. I admonished him for not confronting that mans ignorance with a closed and determined fist. Never back down, right? Gently, he spoke the truth of black men in America. His eyes caught mine in the rearview mirror. You, he said, are innocent until proven guilty. Protected by a system that oppresses me. I am guilty - period - and would be lucky to be arrested, not killed, in a confrontation with that bigot. So he did nothing, let the swine in a tie off at his destination, and drove on - leaving that pig to wallow in his hate. His bravery earned him nothing. No adulation. No respect. No recognition. Nothing except another day of life. Another day with his family. In contrast - my lifetime of bravery. A pale reflection, when set beside his truth. He was brave, not I. My self-styled bravery, forever tainted by my privilege.
0
Jan 1, 2019
Jan 1, 2019 at 11:53 AM UTC
Bravery
Before I looked forward, I looked at the sky I looked at birds whose numbers will die I looked at the plane threatened with tragedy I observed the moon conquered by humanity Before I looked forward, I looked to my right I looked at the gas stations that filled me with fright I saw the grass littered with trash I looked at the stores begging for cash And before I looked forward, I looked to the ground I looked at the bubblegum blackened and browned I saw the asphalt crumbling fast I looked at the coal which once was vast So before I looked forward, I looked right behind I looked at the coal burnt sky drifting high I saw the foundations of our nations I looked at the people ignoring the implications Then I looked up, and I looked straight forward I looked for an end to all our horrors I saw that soon it would all be done And I looked forward, and I saw the sun.
0
Oct 30, 2017
Oct 30, 2017 at 7:23 AM UTC
before I looked forward
Hi, I'm a **** I'm the girl who is only seen as a ****** slave. I'm just digging my own grave. Hi, I'm a **** Having *** seems to have marked me. **** let her be." Hi, I'm a **** I never close my legs. Drinking straight from kegs. Hi, I'm a **** Today's world is so messed up that we are stuck with a meaningless name. It's a game. Hi, I'm a **** I've gotten more men then I can handle. Caught up in a scandle. Hi, I'm a **** Broken and threatened, bullied online. **** she is so fine. Hi, I'm a **** But I'm also a writer too. An artist, a poet, but you never knew. Hi, I'm a **** Where today in this world names can translate into actions. And girls can get rapped. And you can't escape. Because fate is fate. And I should not wear that because it's cut to low. She's such a *** She should just go. Hi, I'm a **** And it's a title that never dies. Breaking ties. Because. Hi, I'm a **** And I can never keep a guy. No matter how hard I try. And it's all a lie. But, Hi... I'm a ****
0
Jun 14, 2016
Jun 14, 2016 at 7:34 AM UTC
Hi, I'm a ****
I get the crust and the gristle of a thistle once a missile shooting out into the sky and I cry, wonder why. Never sure what I feel for the meal of a deal and then words more like air slip the breeze in my hair, butterflies in the skies killing what kept my alive. Oh too bad, well how sad, if the songs last lines din't matter it'd harm, it'd make the soul so very mad. Here I fall, there I stand like a robot dancing to the tunes. It's demand. Hear I laugh, hear I cry. I hear the screams and feel the burn, so why? Why unsure, of what's telling me my life is so impure. Threatened heart, from the strings that wrap it, tearing it apart. Feel the clench of a bundle of what you yourself have drench and so benched. And you threw to me the horror show, I never so have thought would reckon me to be. I, to be, it's master and it's longing family, here I cry. Hear "I" cry. For I exist in heart, but never, not in mind. There I stand once again as a memory of all that I pretend. If I tried, to be real, the pieces fall apart inside. So I hide, then I quiver and I shake as 'me' is inside. I can touch to the shelter covered in the unbelieving, underachieving to be who I know I am to be. Or at least what you see. I crush the old me and start anew, though I grew. I, immortal to myself have stomped the true. And I become something greater than simple little shrew. Do not lie! For I see with one eye, the look through me. What you see is a host, not the ghost, that lives on. "Awh, look at me. I'm so strong!" Laugh along. Child there. Where? Oops, forgot to care. Now I stare, towards the end that's never ending like this script. Never ending. Twist and bending. Don't kid me, I'm no kid. I'm the body of a youth, but I am dead. I've destroyed myself, if others didn't do a perfect job. Hold up stop! I'm letting go, a bubble that will pop. It will burst, destroying me, if it doesn't **** me first. Here I stand. Hear I cry. There I go. I have died.
0
May 6, 2014
May 6, 2014 at 1:09 PM UTC
Vents
I get the crust and the gristle of a thistle once a missile shooting out into the sky and I cry, wonder why. Never sure what I feel for the meal of a deal and then words more like air slip the breeze in my hair, butterflies in the skies killing what kept my alive. Oh too bad, well how sad, if the songs last lines din't matter it'd harm, it'd make the soul so very mad. Here I fall, there I stand like a robot dancing to the tunes. It's demand. Hear I laugh, hear I cry. I hear the screams and feel the burn, so why? Why unsure, of what's telling me my life is so impure. Threatened heart, from the strings that wrap it, tearing it apart. Feel the clench of a bundle of what you yourself have drench and so benched. And you threw to me the horror show, I never so have thought would reckon me to be. I, to be, it's master and it's longing family, here I cry. Hear "I" cry. For I exist in heart, but never, not in mind. There I stand once again as a memory of all that I pretend. If I tried, to be real, the pieces fall apart inside. So I hide, then I quiver and I shake as 'me' is inside. I can touch to the shelter covered in the unbelieving, underachieving to be who I know I am to be. Or at least what you see. I crush the old me and start anew, though I grew. I, immortal to myself have stomped the true. And I become something greater than simple little shrew. Do not lie! For I see with one eye, the look through me. What you see is a host, not the ghost, that lives on. "Awh, look at me. I'm so strong!" Laugh along. Child there. Where? Oops, forgot to care. Now I stare, towards the end that's never ending like this script. Never ending. Twist and bending. Don't kid me, I'm no kid. I'm the body of a youth, but I am dead. I've destroyed myself, if others didn't do a perfect job. Hold up stop! I'm letting go, a bubble that will pop. It will burst, destroying me, if it doesn't **** me first. Here I stand. Hear I cry. There I go. I have died.
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1
There are many side effects of being ambitious, but having the desire and determination to succeed is not and will never be a bad thing. when you've encountered so many tribulations and you want something as desprestly as you want to breathe, you know that giving up has never been an option and will never be, but the most challenging thing is that most of these people only try to minimize our aspirations and what we wish to be. but I guess that's what we get when we're living in a city full of sorrow, deceit and unfulfilled dreams. And nobody wants to listen when we try to tell them,  but There's this  yearning inside of me that everyone is failing to see. and I have every intent of satisfying this hunger no matter how difficult it is to achieve. I guess a side effect of being ambitious is not knowing when enough is enough. I was taught that nothing good comes easily, We have to fight for what we want and most likely it'll be tough. but we were born fighters with purpose running through our veins zealously, causing us to be relentless when it comes to what we crave to be. now don't get me wrong I'll put on for my city KC, but it's not at all the place I aspire to be, and to put it simply I have to leave and I owe all of that to my ambitious personality. a side effect of being ambitious is having unnerving passion, making others feel threatened as they try to reconstruct our visions into ideas that they can understand. but just because they do it does not mean we have to give in. the ball is in your court, this is your life. take control. it wouldn't make sense to throw everything away to appease the mind of someone who has already lost their soul.   A side effect of being ambitious is having unwavering Faith. I just wish for you to never be discouraged, because ambition will forever and always be one of the most attractive traits.
0
Jul 21, 2015
Jul 21, 2015 at 8:35 PM UTC
Side Effects of Being Ambitious
There are many side effects of being ambitious, but having the desire and determination to succeed is not and will never be a bad thing. when you've encountered so many tribulations and you want something as desprestly as you want to breathe, you know that giving up has never been an option and will never be, but the most challenging thing is that most of these people only try to minimize our aspirations and what we wish to be. but I guess that's what we get when we're living in a city full of sorrow, deceit and unfulfilled dreams. And nobody wants to listen when we try to tell them,  but There's this  yearning inside of me that everyone is failing to see. and I have every intent of satisfying this hunger no matter how difficult it is to achieve. I guess a side effect of being ambitious is not knowing when enough is enough. I was taught that nothing good comes easily, We have to fight for what we want and most likely it'll be tough. but we were born fighters with purpose running through our veins zealously, causing us to be relentless when it comes to what we crave to be. now don't get me wrong I'll put on for my city KC, but it's not at all the place I aspire to be, and to put it simply I have to leave and I owe all of that to my ambitious personality. a side effect of being ambitious is having unnerving passion, making others feel threatened as they try to reconstruct our visions into ideas that they can understand. but just because they do it does not mean we have to give in. the ball is in your court, this is your life. take control. it wouldn't make sense to throw everything away to appease the mind of someone who has already lost their soul.   A side effect of being ambitious is having unwavering Faith. I just wish for you to never be discouraged, because ambition will forever and always be one of the most attractive traits.
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16
When I was young so long ago, Threatened I was; though I didn't know, My parents feared as to my fate- Afraid that the doctors would be too late. And the doctors did all that they could, For the fear of my parents they understood, They opened my skull and saw the mass- Knowing that they had to move fast. Many at the time thought those efforts to be in vain, For my life this tumor continued to drain, But those doctor's efforts weren't destined to be lost- For God had not let my death be the cost. To show I understand what it is you're going through, I've brought this message of encouragement for you, For Christmas is the time of giving: as God's done- And I do hope this will bring joy to everyone.
0
Jan 7, 2018
Jan 7, 2018 at 5:53 PM UTC
To show that I understand your pain
craigslist posts on women Things women hate about other women (MICHIGAN) I'm a man and I got no problems with beautiful women and love looking at and spending time with them. Listed some of the problems women have with other women and why some of them get to be targets of world's biggest haters. 1. Beauty - If the women think you are prettier than them, the more threatened they feel. They feel like ogre and hags around the woman and become haters. 2. Intelligence - It's okay to be smart but not if people are reaching for dictionaries or have to google to translate your last sentence. The bigger the words, the smaller your audience feels. 3. Hard Work Ethic - no woman wants to know another woman is working harder and reaping rewards from it. Women want that hard working woman gone. 4. Confidence - Women can't stand women who are confident. 5. Dress better - women hate other women who dress better than them. Women who dress flashy are called ****** by ****** ones who hate them. 6. Strong Personality - women have serious issues with women who are strong and speak minds. 7. Competitive - women are competitive by nature and when they feel they can't compete they hate. 8. Affluent - women being richer than another woman is not what other women want. You see women have to have more money than other women or the richer one get called all kinds of name. Women feel threatened and intimidated by other women faster than by men who they flirt with and plot to get as sugar dads. Biggest problem of women are women who hate other women Response to post competition in women Ever have a female friend who flirted with you knowing you had feelings for another woman? Been there with a few ladies who wanted nothing to do with me when I alone. Moment the office sweetheart started saying hi and took interest, I got popular with some of my co-workers who started saying hi and flirting. That's the competitive thing happening in women's brains. Where the hell were all the women when nobody wanted me?
0
Nov 17, 2013
Nov 17, 2013 at 5:28 PM UTC
truth about women
craigslist posts on women Things women hate about other women (MICHIGAN) I'm a man and I got no problems with beautiful women and love looking at and spending time with them. Listed some of the problems women have with other women and why some of them get to be targets of world's biggest haters. 1. Beauty - If the women think you are prettier than them, the more threatened they feel. They feel like ogre and hags around the woman and become haters. 2. Intelligence - It's okay to be smart but not if people are reaching for dictionaries or have to google to translate your last sentence. The bigger the words, the smaller your audience feels. 3. Hard Work Ethic - no woman wants to know another woman is working harder and reaping rewards from it. Women want that hard working woman gone. 4. Confidence - Women can't stand women who are confident. 5. Dress better - women hate other women who dress better than them. Women who dress flashy are called ****** by ****** ones who hate them. 6. Strong Personality - women have serious issues with women who are strong and speak minds. 7. Competitive - women are competitive by nature and when they feel they can't compete they hate. 8. Affluent - women being richer than another woman is not what other women want. You see women have to have more money than other women or the richer one get called all kinds of name. Women feel threatened and intimidated by other women faster than by men who they flirt with and plot to get as sugar dads. Biggest problem of women are women who hate other women Response to post competition in women Ever have a female friend who flirted with you knowing you had feelings for another woman? Been there with a few ladies who wanted nothing to do with me when I alone. Moment the office sweetheart started saying hi and took interest, I got popular with some of my co-workers who started saying hi and flirting. That's the competitive thing happening in women's brains. Where the hell were all the women when nobody wanted me?
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15
I thought to myself as I watched lightning dance across the sky north of my town. "They must be getting really pounded up there." But where I stood it was dry and no lightning threatened my light night walk. So I carried on. I never really plan these walks, I've never wanted to. And there is no doubt in my mind. That everyone I know spots me from time to time. Old friends, relatives to whom I rarely speak, the black lipped girl I used to write about. And sometimes I wonder what they think of me as I walk along. But then my mind jumps away to other thoughts. And its not even that I don't care which is usually the case. It's just because on my walks I never go backwards.
0
Jul 2, 2014
Jul 2, 2014 at 2:13 AM UTC
Electricity.