thank you JB.

thank you jess. i agree.

thank you pkd i agree some people have harder times and have to "grow up" faster than others.

thank you skyhook.

thank you ladylid. i wish there were a lot more people like you.

thank you artman i appreciate your candor. i can barely fathom how difficult it must have been to be in the Vietnam war and lose your father afterward.

thank you. : )

It began here.
In a world like a mirror.
Sparks in the dark.
Reflective and clear.
It’s alive!
Inside!
Alive!

I won’t deny.
That it redeems.
Outshines my life.
Reflects my dreams.
Familiar mystery.
Realistic fantasy.
Fascination and the idea.

Lightening bolts, increasing volts.
Electric, kinetic waves.
Through staves and bolts.
Intricate maze and brain.
Storm and drain.
On a boat.

thank you HB.

anyone else.

i have seen( and been involved) in many debates, and struggles between the young and old. i think both have their strengths and weaknesses.

when do you think the transition between youth and age happens in the mind and beliefs of a person?

what do you think is usually the cause for this event?

what are some of the distinguishing attributes of youth and age?

what sets them apart and makes them similar?

thank you msteddybear.

really god write. i like the imagery.

Azkait thats one of the best compliments i've ever bee given.

thank you.

thank you aditi


I agree BMWboy.

This world is not a world.
Mere visions incircled.
Taunting me.
Possibility.
A loaded word.
Shot off in my brain
Feeding through.
Consuming everything.

Let it bleed; make it breathe.
Through my pores.
From my brain.
Will it still remain?
The cancer bringing life.
Eating away, feeling alive.
Hemorrhaged, hematoma.
Caught in a coma.
No pain…no pain!


A walking vegetable
A dragging zombie
Subservient and pale
Crying puppies.
Time wears away.
I don’t believe this disease.
Deceives so many.
Yet I change. (I change)
into things I hate.

This world is a world.
A mad world.
Lose to win.
Prey to save.
Sanctify sin.
Chaotic and grey.
Jade in our eye.
Conform or die.
Then point the blame.

thank you txsgal mzem

Sweetcountrygirl

and pkh


i appreciate the comments too.

i notice personality first. if shes beautiful its a plus but personality can make or break it. i am very picky when it comes to personality.

as far as looks go i pay attention to clothes first because they could lead to clues about their personality. after that its eyes ,hair , legs and neck.


okie thats scary and funny at the same time.

thank you gossip and mirror.


fusion- that sounds like a good choice.

i really appreciate the comment and complement .

Is it better to be chained and feel alive?
Or be free and dead inside?
Are they both illusions, misconceptions?
Fetid, decrepit, and beautiful.
Imbred from conception.
Understood or equivocal?

The merry go-rounds are crashing down.
Yet the world keeps spinning round.
Mundane realm at the helm of chaos.
Break away symbionts distrust.
Devouring hand that feeds.
Salmon cycle waits awhile.
Any meaning in between?

Is it better to think or be?
Be blind or truly see?
The wrath and woes of friends and foes.
To face the arrows and slings?
Be held by time’s hands.
To fight for our dreams?
And fade into into sand.
For what purpose do we concede?

The wicker man- "how did it get burned!!!"

Godfather trilogy.

Band of brothers.

Reservoir dogs.

Kill bill 1 and 2.

titanic.

I am proud of you for sticking through.

i am sorry that conner and kyle died. i hope they died peacefully. at least they don't have to suffer anymore.


"A message from the grave.
What’s lost can’t be saved.
What’s not forgotten can’t be lost.
They seem to stay in our hearts.
Imprinted memories and thoughts that echo in time"

Is this really just a story?
A falling waking dream?
Be careful when exploring.
Everything is not what it seems.
For the echoes in the pools.
Change reflection in a beat.
For the visions revolve like mirrors.
In a stormy winter sea.
All the eyes are watching.
The sky is gazing back.
The trees are breathing.
And the flowers can speak.
As the words become math.
The jesters are juggling their minds.
The ink and pen write their signs.
Future becomes the past.
Dejavu’s come in twos.
Woken up but the dreams come back.
Unglued, yet chained and trapt.
With these anthems in my hand.
These visions in my head.
My soul is filled with intricate and elegant dreams.
Always flowing and streaming.
More ideas unsaid to be believed.)