Poetry of sky, washes clean the must of yesterday
dragging out the silent moan of anguish that was his life.
Seeing the futility of every day, he dove like a swan in winter
into a neverending life of numbness and pity, crying out for nothing
and receiving nothing.
His was a pointless existance
full of walls he built and pain he created,
full of evil he loved and malignancy,
full of the fruits of his actions and the knowledge of his fate.
He will be missed, in the way one misses a hangnail or a pair of uncomfortable shoes.
He will be mourned with the passing of each second and forgotten in a matter of minutes.
This was a life.
bgibbs
I so don't know.
Friday, May 30
Tuesday, May 27
You and I, we've been through all these things and we see the future as bright and plain as a new day. We aren't fooled by our perceptions or the lies of others. We have better things to do and we do them with gusto and aplomb.
Monday, May 26
Wednesday, May 21
Tuesday, May 20
Monday, May 19
Friday, May 16
Thursday, May 15
Are you tired of blogging the same old crap? We all are.
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It goes from Self-piyting to self-loathing in under a minute! It will link to up to 50 pointless external pages per day, with up to 49 of them guaranteed to be either other users' blogs or DAVE BARRY HIMSELF (or the blog thereof. no guarantee is implied)
See what you're missing
SELECT-A-BLOG!