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Post by voiceofgod on Sept 28, 2005 9:42:41 GMT -5
Boredom is creeping ever so quietly into the deeper dwellings of my mind. Today is moderately mild with a chance of showers and still I am smuthered by this heat. The fire of my own impatience is roaring into a great mountain of flame. Work is for the weak. Play is for the lazy. I need to find a medium. Somewhere in between that I can still look important and keep the witches off my trail at the same time. My scalp itches, but it is only because the brain underneath is boiling with anticipation that there might be, could, be, should be, or will be something more intense. Hopefully after lunch I can take a dirt nap in the car.
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Post by voiceofgod on Dec 13, 2005 10:09:26 GMT -5
Oh my how the mockingbirds kill again in the quiet restarint of the morning. When I awoke today, it seemed important to get the straight jacket off. So I knawed through my handcuffs and sat up for thr first time in ages. I watched as the crows pecked my eyes out and then laughed with glee when I remember I no longer needed them. It is not in me to see. I can only feel now. I can only sense. I only want to reach out for what isn't there and pull back something beautiful. As I mount the king of crows, I let his dooming wings flap me to some foreign land where everbody has the some skin tone. We are dancing on diamonds and smoking acient herbs that bring out the ghosts in us. We talk to our loving kindred spirits and in this place, at this exact time, I am snapping out of my drug induced frenzy and realizing that there is actually something worth fighting for. You fight for the cause and the cause is dying. Staying a few ticks ahead is worth the risk of keeping your head latched on.
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Post by SparrowsSoliloquy on Dec 13, 2005 23:59:54 GMT -5
Damn VOG.. you are on a creative high.. keep it coming! Love reading it so far:)
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Post by voiceofgod on Dec 14, 2005 11:25:56 GMT -5
Damn VOG.. you are on a creative high.. keep it coming! Love reading it so far:) Thanks.
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Post by TheAnomicSoul on Dec 19, 2005 0:27:47 GMT -5
Many doors await me These doors I am willing to embark on These doors do not lead me to where I was intended to go They lead me to a place I stumbled upon And when I pass through the door and walk down the cold and frightful halls While causing heartache to those who feel To the very few who feel These doors open up to fate I do not have the strength to self-destruct I have compassion, I need somebody to destroy me To demolish me I have no choice but to follow where ever the Reaper leads me To damnation, or eternal salvation This is not the way I pictured my path to be I cannot explain why this metamorphosis has happened I must find the answer first, for myself I have become my worst enemy Fighting my will, fighting who I have become Fighting every thing I am Disgusted with the person who stares back at me Soiled my pride, Locked on the outside And the many undertones I have spoken All the whispers floating through the air What do they mean now? What does failure mean to me I've walked the long path and seen many things The gray clouds hovered above me Walking in the footsteps of the deceased Have my life immortalized in pictures Yet again, This is not the road I choose The road choose me, the spawn of Satan himself Grabs me,steals me,drains me Living a lie, feel the need to say bye, defy myself, to die I have no other choice, but to follow the path I cannot depart Just wish it didn't end up like this Wish I didnt have to write this The path I take from now to death Will not shine on me Liquidator, I'm waiting, Come find me.
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Post by voiceofgod on Dec 19, 2005 16:30:04 GMT -5
FUCKING awesome A-Soul.
Damn............
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Post by SparrowsSoliloquy on Dec 19, 2005 23:25:47 GMT -5
You are fucking brilliant Kevin!! that was very cool!
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Post by TheAnomicSoul on Dec 20, 2005 4:16:54 GMT -5
Thank you, To the both of you.
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Post by voiceofgod on Dec 20, 2005 15:09:44 GMT -5
A work in progress certainly is no less than an excuse not to finish. We sweat, we bleed, we walk away. And in the end we are motionless currents adding to the same recycled, reused, and endless supply of energy that mixes violently within the morning sky. As heavy as a sunset we watch the stars burn the souls of men less prepared for the after thought. They were akwardly aware at once, but sometime between the "who's there?" and "oh no the power just went out" someone crept out of the closet, gagged them, put a blindfold on them, and threw them in an unmarked van. They did it to themselves. Victims of their own sick game. Kidnapping their own thoughts. They always questioned the distance from start to end and never bothered to measure the gap. If only they had tried. If only a miracle was powerful enough to hold the thick soupy drainage that we let drip from our pores. But nothing is never enough is it? Motivation is never there is it? You are such a tiny worthless lie of yourself. I knew the real you once and I like that faded book alot better. Don't give in to the voices, don't dread stepping away from that which moves you. I believe in your force so mellow like a bubbling brook. Use it again. You did once to excite the tiny fragments of brain I have left to stir a creative thought with. Where are you when I need that lighting back in my tornado?
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Post by voiceofgod on Dec 29, 2005 12:49:23 GMT -5
I am torn between broken people thinking I owe them something and selfish dreamers who think I should've done more to help them out on another failed attempt. This helping hand I cup so thoughtlessly is closed for business. There is no more free givings and wisher-wells. I am done catering to the weak and through with tying my weight to their problems. Leave me the fuck alone. I offer no more peace to you. My own set of problems is bending me further from the light and you sit back thinking only of your own devices. This time I go this route alone. What you do with your time-your patience-your energy-your life-is just that YOURS. I am not going to give any assitance to those most satisfied with watching all the work be done and never lifting a finger.
"So take a good look at me. This is the last time you're ever gonna see a bad guy like this again. You need people like me. You need people like me so you can point you're fucking fingers and say That's the bad guy!"
(say hello to my little friend.............666)
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Post by voiceofgod on Feb 11, 2006 9:47:12 GMT -5
Everyone around me swirls like paper in the wind. They know I have no emotions. I am clean slated and sworn jaded. I am down and outside the box of thought in my head. I slip out of the mattress just as she wakes up. Busted. Red handed pants down with nothing on but my skippies. Impossible to disappear when the radar's blinking. Only this has simply been a dream. A silly childish fantasy of imagination sulking in the possiblity that something may come to pass. Sadly I hold on to these loose feelings like a small boy holding a kite ten times his size. My feet barely touch the ground anymore and the oxygen up here is getting thinner. If only an obvious sign could be posted in the outskirts of your palace. Just an apple to intice you or a grain of golden thread to make a rope ladder to your room. Face me lover. Look at the masterpiece that paints you in his dreams at night. Know me and see the consequence of loving someone sadly misguided.
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