adamantine2

Even Though We Face the Same Direction –– Single_Diverging_Goals I stand up to my waist in the sea of truth, I stand down to my waist in the sky of lies. My ears resonate with the natural harmonics of both, My head rings and my eyes fog making me unable to move forward. The horizon is only a twisted black blur. “Tomorrow is my own and no one else's” drifts through my head. My answer must be my own. My answer is to take the best clouds of sky and water of sea, Force them together with ambition and place them in the impossible horizon. Only then is my path, head and eyes clear, Chasing the horizon where the sky and sea

Stan was the average American white collar working class man. He worked from 9 to 5 on weekdays and enjoyed weekends at home with his lovely wife Sara. The two were a perfect pair. They loved to do everything together and had been married for 4 years. At least that's how Stan wanted them to look to outsiders. Stan was a fairly conflicted person. He loved breasts, he gawked at large breasts everywhere he saw them. He hid piles of boob-themed adult magazines in the attic. Sara was the person Stan loved but Sara did not have the "hooters" that Stan craved. Yet he still loved her, or at least convinced himself he did. In lieu of Stan's view, Sa

What is a race? "An arbitrary classification of modern humans, sometimes, esp. formerly, based on any or a combination of various physical characteristics, as skin color, facial form, or eye shape, and now frequently based on such genetic markers as blood groups." If it was formerly based on physical characteristics then why do people still classify others as being different from them? "..................." Why do people expect me to wear large chains, swear in every sentence, and have the ability to make words rhyme and blend together only to insult someone's mother? Why to people expect him to have straight A's, wear pocket protect

It doesn't make sense to me. Why is it that the one being who can create so much good can allow evil to last so long? Why did that man who tortured so many live for 80 years without getting a serious illness and the people who helped so many die so young? Goodness and good people and good things should prosper and last forever. Yet the painful and terrible things always win. Is there an imbalance in the universe then? I don't get it.  On my way home I heard the sounds of gang-rape coming from an alleyway. Muffled cries of desperation and hushed sadistic moans of men nearing climax. There was a girl missing in my class that day, the sweetest g

There were ten severely wounded solders And five bullets left. The general must kill the weak in efforts to win the war. But how? His sword. Instead of making their deaths rapid and painless, Its is slow and agonizing. One by one each shoulder is sliced just below the jaw. The ones who have not been cut are hollering for him to stop. But he only gets faster. None of the soldiers are beheaded Instead they are profusely bleeding to death. The crazed general realized what he had done His blade was dripping with the blood of sin With tears and enemy soldiers in his eyes, He sliced his own neck. Children came to the horrific scene

Indescribable. What shall we call–? You Never been seen Never been heard from Never properly defined Never studied In light of this You are more well known than any person or thing Millions upon billions of them Marching blindly towards an everlasting unknown For what cause? None it seems None other than pre-established dogma I found myself among the billion man march In a flash Perceptive awareness stuck me Is it fear that makes them march? I queried about You and was met with brusque backlash The wires and satellites echoed Predestination Such a word it was Stole breath from my body Yet too small to wrap around my

Thank you For listening to me guiding me comforting me You are truly special to me You may not know it but you changed my life I really should say it more or at least show it more Writing this doesn't compare to the things you have done for me I could never pay you back For everything I'll try to be just like you were to me To suffice Thanks again From, A Friend