Listening to: heartless - kris allen
Thoughts like these. Miles away per square inch is just a miniature of life there is, out there, in here, wherever.
The door screeches again, and as usual, I can hear their voices screaming. A glass falls, and he slices his finger accidentally. A child's heart pounds in each drip of blood from the sky. Yes, there are children masked in youthful clothing. But merely, they are blown off by the increasing modernity, and once in a while, they aren't kids anymore.
Times like these, dumb people talking about dumb people, smart asses smooching butts, what could be better?
He walks in and greets a mourning, "Wassup, nigga?"
And she expresses with disgust, " Better as hell sucka!"
Bravo! We are living in the 21st century!
Love it, hate it, this is the world we live in. I wonder who would change it as if he really cares about it. Whether for Global Warming or Politics, I don't really care. What matters is that, I can still live, eat, sleep, and wake up in the morning.
Sunshine's a little smile from heaven. And I can see a fallen angel reigning with his glorious masquerade from the clouds. I don't know him, but people say, he is a good man. He showers us life, and he brought forth power that is, more than power itself.
I've seen little and great men kneel before him. They love him. They love the way he use to wave a hundred towers over his head. They say, it's liberty, some the sun, others light. His eyes are as fierce as any other flame and his arms are as gentle as thunder and lightning. His wings are that of, night, that is cold, that is sleep. Nobody really sees him, and that's why I don't understand why they keep on keeping his coins without a spot.
He lives within his men and they are called "Legion". And I have no idea what's the rest of what will happen to me after mentioning that name.
Here lies a man beneath his kin. She sits next to him as she lays her eggs.She who is she. She who is usually, that of a woman. But she can also be a country, organization, or a group, whatsoever; while he, symbolizes man and one person. And how could this be such coincidence for sexist language? Or subliminal in historical context?
She who, accidentally poured uric acid unto water and then wipes it pure again. But those who followed her generation poured nightly ink again and again. And so did her men, and so did many.
And so he reigned. What a beautiful world. Give me a peace of mind.