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onceagainistandalone (profile) wrote, on 5-5-2004 at 8:57pm | |
Subject: On the edge she took one last look around, then closed her eyes and pushed away..speeding toward the ground..through the air without a sound. |
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michelle, you are amazing. even though i already told you that, i want you and everyone that reads this to know something else.. MICHELLE FRASER IS ONE OF THE MOST AWESOME AMAZING BEAUTIFUL ORIGINAL ARTISTIC EXAMPLES OF THE HUMAN RACE I HAVE EVER KNOWN OR EVER WILL KNOW. and i love her. She is like the cool sister i never had. the one that is interested in pretty much the exact same stuff i am..and one of the only people in this town that can relate to alot of my experiances. now that you all know that, i would like to present to you something i wrote today..it doesn't have a name. -- This eye...this eye has seen a thousand different faces on a thousand different people. This eye has seen through the fake exterior of those people and gazed into their hearts and souls. And the eye shut itself as it looked inside the hearts and souls, because it saw the coldness that is harbored in the hearts of men and women, and it saw the empty shells that they call their souls. This eye has seen the petty violence and the hatred and the racism and the ignorance and the all consuming lust for paper and coins...it saw all these things that dominate the minds of the weak. The weak ones. The ones who can't think because their heads are over flowing with the garbage that is force fed to them by televison and radio and the internet. The weak ones, the ones who couldn't take just one minute out of their busy schedule of allowing themselves to be controlled, to stop and actually think. The weak ones let their heads get so full of trash that it flows out of their ears in rivers and spalshes on the sidewalk. Then it runs through gutters of the cities and pollutes the water and contaminates the dirt that so that even the helpless, innocent earthworms cannot escape the ever tightening grasp of the hand that is wrapped around the throats of today's youth. It's their hand around our throats, and you all know exactly who I'm fucking talking about. Their hands never loosen their grasp. Their mouths never stop the incessent preaching that tells you who you should be. Their eyes refuse to see the ones that attempt to disassociate themselves from "The Pack", and the never ending cries, the cries for change and revolution that come from the mouths of those who lust for it and need it the most...those cries crash against their deaf ears, and fall to the ground where they are stomped into oblivion by their shiny black boots. None of us want to go unseen, and none of us want to go unheard, but time and time again it proves impossible for the free soul to be heard. No one hears us in this land of the silenced minority, this land of "liberty" where they try to enslave your mind, this land of fashion, MTV, sex, conservitives, and never ending greed. But you know what? I say fuck "impossible". I will fight. I will fight until the day I fucking die, and I want everyone here tonight to fight with me. We will be a rebellious collective of poets and artists, musicians and writers, drinkers, lovers, fighters, drug users and abusers. A collective of individuals so hellbent on making our voices heard, that no matter how hard they try not see us, and no matter how hard they try not to see us, and no matter how hard they try to push us down, choke us out, and stomp our brains into the ground, they will fail. And oh how sweet that failure will taste. Like a great man before me, I have a dream. I will live for this dream, this dream of the invasion of individuality in the cold conservitive machine we call "society". I will live everyday of my life for this dream, and I will die any day of my life for this dream. Above all though, I hope and pray that I will not be fighting this fight alone. WE ARE THE REVOLUTION! -- I've always wanted to write a book..most people do..but i could never decide on a subject, and its really hard for me to write about one subject at any length because my mind jumps all over the place. So if i want to make a book, i think im going to take all my things i've written, and will probably continue to write over the next few years, things in the vein of this one..individuality, robotic socity, etc etc. And combine them into one big book..with like an index..kind of like a poetry book , but essays and stories and stuff like that, all written by me. i think that would be cool.. thats all i have. i love you. i love you too michelle. |
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this-acoustic-love | 05-05-04 9:35pm <3
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