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DeathKnightv4
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Birthday
1988-08-10
Gender
Male
Location
Dancin' with Enkidu.
Member Since
2003-08-12
Occupation
Robot Lord of Kyoto.
Real Name
Kenneth.
Personal
Achievements
Painting our sky ocean.
Anime Fan Since
I saw Sailor Moon.
Favorite Anime
Last Exile, Infinite Ryvius, Da Capo, Air, El Hazard, Rozen Maiden, The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya.
Goals
Dynastic cycle.
Hobbies
All rise.
Talents
Thumbs down.
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Welcome to my site archives. 10 posts are listed per page.
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Tuesday, August 10, 2004
Tick tock.
Alright, now that I am officially 16 I have to begin the job hunt.
Any suggestions?
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Sunday, August 8, 2004
Once again, as predicted, left my broken heart open and you ripped it out.
Somethin's got me reelin, stop me from believin'- turn me around again.
Sugar Ray's old CD= l337.
GodDAMN if I am not tired as shit.
Here's what occurred, what came to pass, etc.
I spent a week in Brownwood, Texas visiting at an OBers house-an oldschool OBer from way before a huge chunk of you. It was interesting, I suppose. I really didn't enjoy seeing that part of America- the impoverished side. Not again, anyway. It was too familiar- accents were different, but still familiar.
I dunno. Why would you move there for family? That's foreign to me. My family is.. not my family. You know? The only family I have is this hodgepodge collection of friends from real life and offline. My dad, my mom- they aren't my dad or my mom. It's that simple, really. All they seek is some sort of reason for them to have lived- their first two children turned out to be failures, their success as parents hinges on my sociopathic shoulders.
Technically? I'm feeling better about being a bastard. My mom, you know- she mighta been the worst mother on earth, but I ended up having so many of her qualities. That nomadic quality, that need to run away. You look out on the horizon and feel it tugging at you- you gotta run away, something calls to you. Some escape, I have to escape. Exit stage right, yeah. I hate being in one place for so long. I have to move, I have to breathe, I have to see new places to BE.
Ugh, she had the same thing- that need to run away. She didn't have the wisdom, the intellect for it. Ended up crashing and burning. My fate is something similar but it's like I just don't care- I would die stationary, if I die in movement then what else can I do? I am living in the wrong age for wondrous exploration- the age where realism kills. So be it, I guess. Apathy- regardless of the wishes of others, I'm not submitting to the stereotypical path to your final resting place. Something less grand, something more grand- who cares? As long as it's what I want to do. Scared? Nah, not really. What's to fear? You'll die eventually. Pass away doing something you can smile about. So early deaths comes, for me? For you? Nah, I don't think so. Evasive tactics- 100 percent sure that I can exist in motion.
Childish! Maybe. Sure, whatever. Young at heart, too young- realistically? Failure looms. Imaginatively? The sky's the limit, baby. Flak fire can do nothing to high fliers. Landing amongst the stars? Shoot for the moon first. RIP, first class ticket to nowhere- RIP, first class ticket to fulfilling self.
RIP, KAH.
I can do it. Trust me. [Overused phrases are now in bold XD].
Final day, parents freak- told them I would be staying for a week, it was flexible. Might be till a little before or after Saturday- zine OBer's mom says mon/tue, no prob- inform the 'rents. The fuhrers freak and threaten to call the police if I'm not home by 9.
End result? Piece of shit guardians practically forced her to come. Shaken up Ken, unreasonable parents= Ken cusses father out in force, ending conversation with a "go to hell" and a hung up phone.
Not grounded? Suave. Lucky? Nah, it was my skills. [right.]
As I said prior to this, E S C A P E. My mom dealt with these fools before, no wonder she has this tendency that was passed down to me! Dodging bullets is no fun when the bullets are 5 feet from you personally. Bad guardians, no fuhrer-cake for you. NAZI SS INC! Evasive maneuvers [again?!?! death: muahaha ^^].
New Quest Attained- Seek, Find, Purchase and Play The Elder Scrolls III: Morrowind [GAME OF THE YEAR EDITION]. EXP reward? 5k. Mad EXP for this quest. o.o
Ugh, darkness in my mind is tainting into this post. School approaches?! Nein! My subjects? Same as always! Graduation year, baby- 16 on the 10th, graduating at 16! Rockin'. Scholar? You bet. Let me lecture you. [...]
Romantically? Bah! Trivial, my dear Wattson. Eventualities and circumstance dominate the subject. Someday, somewhere- for now, bigger things to focus on! Long distance options assaulting your sense, will your promise to yourself hold? Oh yes, I think so.
Trust me.
Reading is joyful, taken it up again- Franz Kafka? Twould be a pleasure. The Metamorphosis? Grand! Hit close to home though. For one morning as I awoke from anxious dreams, I too discovered that in bed I had changed into a...
The subject matter hits close due to reason that are obvious, really. Poor Gregor.
Current events? Eh, what's to say. Consider them as trivial as anything else, for now- happenstance something important occurs, I'm sure somewhere along the line I will form a somehow controversial and offensive opinion by accident, stumbling through a long drama with overtly sensitive and stubborn people. End results are always the same- the broken glass is yours, you clean it up, they are not wrong.
So that is where I have been for a week! Ah yes, along with that was all the realizations, the epiphanies, the drama, the concussions, the convulsions, the closet sex, the repair work, the ideas, the thoughts, the hypothesis, the eternal dreaming. This has become bloated beyond repair! [as if it were an accident.]
Ah, well. All is well in kenland. Trust me. [falsities exist in all facets, I guess.]
DO TELL ME HOW YOU ARE! And speak not lightly, but boldly.
Adios dudes, dudettes, heads of state and otherwise.
PS. The Metamorphosis. Read it.
YAWN.
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Woo.
I'm back from my "vacation". =D
With that said, I must reorient myself. So, instead of a post, you get a short story by Franz Kafka.
The Imperial Message
By Franz Kafka
The Emperor—so they say—has sent a message, directly from his death bed, to you alone, his pathetic subject, a tiny shadow which has taken refuge at the furthest distance from the imperial sun. He ordered the herald to kneel down beside his bed and whispered the message in his ear. He thought it was so important that he had the herald speak it back to him. He confirmed the accuracy of verbal message by nodding his head. And in front of the entire crowd of those witnessing his death—all the obstructing walls have been broken down, and all the great ones of his empire are standing in a circle on the broad and high soaring flights of stairs—in front of all of them he dispatched his herald. The messenger started off at once, a powerful, tireless man. Sticking one arm out and then another, he makes his way through the crowd. If he runs into resistence, he points to his breast where there is a sign of the sun. So he moves forwards easily, unlike anyone else. But the crowd is so huge; its dwelling places are infinite. If there were an open field, how he would fly along, and soon you would hear the marvellous pounding of his fist on your door. But instead of that, how futile are all his efforts. He is still forcing his way through the private rooms of the innermost palace. Never will he win his way through. And if he did manage that, nothing would have been achieved. He would have to fight his way down the steps, and, if he managed to do that, nothing would have been achieved. He would have to stride through the courtyards, and after the courtyards through the second palace encircling the first, and, then again, through stairs and courtyards, and then, once again, a palace, and so on for thousands of years. And if he finally burst through the outermost door—but that can never, never happen—the royal capital city, the centre of the world, is still there in front of him, piled high and full of sediment. No one pushes his way through here, certainly not someone with a message from a dead man. But you sit at your window and dream of that message when evening comes.
Something more coherant will come eventually.
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Saturday, July 31, 2004
Zah.
I'm prolly gonna be gone for a week on a vacationish sort of thing.
Adios dudes, dudettes, heads of state and otherwise.
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Tuesday, July 27, 2004
But you can't keep running away from what you're trying to find.
Godfuckingdamnit there is nothing to talk about. Nothing to say, just the same old bullshit. Ugh. I guess I could do a bloody history day piece. The following will be a boring essay only I find interesting. It is written by me for nobody's enjoyment. =P
Bloody History Day- The Katyn Forest Massacre
Alright, the Molotov-Ribbontrop pact. It was the non-agression pact signed between the Soviet Union and Germany in 1939 prior to the German's Polish invasion. Basically, it divided up Europe between the Germans and the Soviets- the Germans got the western half of Poland + the provine of Memel from Lithuania and the Soviets got it's previous territories it had under Czarist Russia, which included all of the Baltic states, parts of Romania, all of Finland and the Eastern half of Poland.
When Germany invaded Poland in 1939, the Polish were shocked to find that, from the East, Communist troops were coming in- the already demoralized and beaten Polish army couldn't do much to stop them at all, so the USSR "inherited" eastern Poland- capturing a large portion of the Polish army while doing so.
Fast-forward to 1943, Operation Barbarossa- The German invasion of the Soviet Union. Obviously, to get to the USSR, you would have to go through Eastern Poland, and the Germans did just that- quite easily too, I might add.
As they advanced through Poland in 1941 they found massive grave sites in Katyn forest, thousands of Poles buried in large pits in the forest- stacked in rows, ontop of each other. All of them were members the Polish Army, in full winter uniform. The Germans immediately blamed the Soviets and, but of course, the Soviets denied any involvement- instead blaming the Germans.
Tired of being blamed, the Germans started exhumed the graves in Katyn Forest in 1943 and brought in an independant panel of scientists to tell when they had died. The scientists brought in were of different nationalities- one german, one american, one british and one polish each, to ensure the findings would not be said to be biased twards Germany.
As they studied, the scientists found there were several odd things about the Katyn massacre. The first thing was the way all of the Poles had died- each one was shot in the NKVD's favorite method of execution, but all of the bullets used were German bullets. So, all that was left to go on was the time they were killed- that would show who was to blame since, as I told you, Eastern Poland had changed hands rather quickly, from Polish to Russian to German in a couple of years.
The scientists estimated that the Poles had been killed sometime during the early spring of 1940, which would put it during the time the Soviet's had it. The Germans reburied the Poles, even as the Americans and British denounced the findings as a German attempt to put a strain on the anti-Nazi alliance between Communist Russia and the Democracies of the west.
Of course, the Russians eventually [with great effort and heroism, I might add] retook Poland in it's entirity and they brought in their OWN scientists. Unfortunately, once again, the dead were not left to rest in peace- and the graves were exhumed for a second time.
The Russian scientists discerned that the Poles were killed during the summer of 1942- placing them back into the German time of occupation. With this finding, the Russians started a massive propoganda spree on a world scale- inviting several high ranking people to Katyn forest to see the graves, and what the scientists had found.
One of the people invited was the daughter of the American ambassador to the USSR. As she toured the site, she asked a question of the Communist 'tour guide'- If the Poles were killed in the Summer of 1942 like the Russians say, why is it that they were dressed in full winter uniform?
The flustered Communist official couldn't find any answer, and quickly moved the group along.
There was a reason he had no answer.
In 1989 as the USSR fell, Gorbachev told the President of Poland that it was indeed the Soviet NKVD who had killed all the Poles. All of the Poles who were found to be "counter-revolutionary" or "Anti-Soviet" were placed in camps, [sound familiar?], and given a mock trial. Among those killed were civilian intellectuals, army officers, former land owners and priests- but the majority of those executed were officers of the Polish army.
21,857 innocent Poles were killed and buried in mass graves at there spots in western Russia and Poland.
What makes this even more outrageous is the fact that the western Democracies almost knew for sure that the Russians did it- but they didn't want to put pressure on their Ally, the one who was taking the brunt of the fighting against the Germans. They just smiled and nodded, leaving Katyn to be buried in history.
So, that is the massacre that occured in camps across western Russia and in Poland. As always, I wish to expose you to an unbiased view- Nazi Germany commited atrocities, yes. So did Russia, America and Britain. All of them did, it wasn't some holy, divine war to prove the power of democracy- it was just a war.
And in wars, there is no consideration for human life, be it civilian or military. Especially when the armed forces are in the hands of a psychotic dicatator like Hitler.
Or like Stalin.
So, as always, I hope you learned something. Don't be anti-American. Just remember that a nation is a nation. Nothing more, nothing less. They bloody their hands as much as anyone else, and they never are anything more than entities that men created.
Men are imperfect. Their creations are too.
Well, so long. I hope I have something more interesting to talk about next time. =)
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Tuesday, July 20, 2004
Crystal Lake.
Yeah! Filler post, woo. Gotta drive to do. Will update later.
This is an IS-3, produced in 1945. It never saw action in the war- but it's predecessors, the IS-1 and IS-2, did in most major theatres of the Soviet-German front.
They were big ass motherfuckers-armed to the teeth. Is is actually named after Stalin- Iosef Stalin [Joseph Stalin]. I enjoy these tanks immensely in my dorky way.
Bow to it.
Sayonara chickas, dudes, dudettes, heads of state and otherwise.
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Saturday, July 17, 2004
Trenchant.
Man, OB has changed. I remember a time when a thread like the "Lyrics Game" would have been shot down immediately by several moderators- probably at the same time, haha.
Used to it would be like a little alarm went off in several moderator's homes- the SPAM SIREN! They would rush to their computers and launch an all-consuming assault!
Seems to have tilted back towards spamtastic- what, between the people seeking relationship advice and the people talking about being afraid of clowns.
What is amusing is the "What are you into?" thread. This laid back chicka asks what people are interested in and this wave of pseudo-scholars washes in, all listing grammar as one of the things they enjoy. It was like watching the Grammar SS invade this one topic.
Do you all have that much time on your hands? Are your lives so decrepit that you have to be little grammar fuhrers? That is hilarious then.
Let's see. In that thread, out of all the people who wanted to appear to be little philosophers, who do I consider to be intelligent or an intellectual.
KnightOfTheRose gets props just from making me laugh. Ahh, yeah. Wristcutter, as always, gets props too. Arika seems intelligent enough, although she is a little grammar Nazi. Lava lamp hit the point I am trying to make home completely, so uh- props to.. it? Miss Dagger is an intellectual methinks.
Also that DeathKnight guy. He is quite sexy and smart, hm. I think he should be given some sort of monetary reward for his efforts in intellectual thought.
What else made that thread quite amusing was ChibiHorsewoman- whom I continue to have an undying hatred for. What did she do to make it amusing, you ask?
"I'm into things involving intellect." - ChibiHorsewoman.
Ken: *when he reads this* *bursts out laughing IRL*
Ahh, yeah. Much appreciation to CHW for continuing to be amusing every so often.
*pats grammar fuhrers, psuedo-scholars and CHW on the head*
Ah well. You do what you do.
'Least I'm back on OB. I've evolved from the little dork I was on Oct. 5, 2001. Now I'm a sarcastic, over-critical dork with a better vocabulary.
Sayonara little chickas, dudes, dudettes, heads of state and otherwise.
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Friday, July 16, 2004
Passion.
Simon says...
Quiz Day
Bear Spirit Calls To You ~
Freudian Inventory Results | Genital (40%) you appear to be stuck between destructive and constructive outlooks. Latency (50%) you appear to have a good balance of knowledge seeking and practicality. Phallic (66%) you appear to have issues with controlling your sexual desires and possibly fidelity. Anal (30%) you appear to be overly lacking in self control and organization, and have a compulsive need to defy authority. Oral (40%) you appear to have a good balance of independence and interdependence. | Take Free Freudian Inventory Testpersonality tests by similarminds.com
Based on the lj interests lists of those who share my more unusual interests, the interests suggestion meme thinks I might be interested in 1. philosophy score: 3 2. music score: 2 3. books score: 2 4. italy score: 1 5. @ score: 1 6. lou reed score: 1 7. walking score: 1 8. greece score: 1 9. religion score: 1 10. our lady peace score: 1 11. avante-garde score: 1 12. introverts score: 1 13. vampires score: 1 14. swords score: 1 15. gardening score: 1 16. old movies score: 1 17. computers score: 1 18. video games score: 1 19. royal ruby glassware score: 1 20. weddings score: 1
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Thursday, July 15, 2004
You're so cold keep your hand in mine.
It was a long day, I'll tell you that much. It all started seemingly innocent with an alarm going off and a muffled "fuck" from me.
It progressed into pandemonium, I assure you.
First we went out to eat at a buffet. It was a great meal, no complaints. Weird thing happened though- one time when I came back from getting my main course, the chair I had been sitting in had disappeared.
I mean it. It was just gone. Neither of my parents had even noticed that it had gone missing. A quick inspection of the area found it to be currently inhabited by a small child at a table nearby- no biggy, someone took my chair. I scooted the remaining chair over but continued to wonder why my parents hadn't of noticed. Senile, I suppose. ;D
So, then we did some errands. Oh, fantastic fun that- it was not really that amusing until we went to Sam's Club. In this maze of bulk items for sale, I found myself to be getting alot of stares- either due to my hair or the shirt I was wearing.
Ah, yes. Today's shirt- the ever-filled with innuendo "I'm big, you're small- have a nice day" shirt.
One young man ever muttered what my shirt said on it as he read it. I looked at him and said "Damn straight"- I was bigger than he was, he was sort of small and I did wish him the fondest of days.
Nothing really great happened at Sam's. I was my insane self- I rode the basket around. You know, where you get up on that bar beneath the child's seat and push it like a scooter. I road it around the parking lot, the store, various places- it was amusing. You should try it- you can pick up a pretty good speed with it.
Once home, I unloaded the shit and convinced my mother to take me to the mall so I could spend some cash I had acquired over a couple of months. Surprisingly enough, she offered the keys to the truck to me- my previously scared shitless mom wanted me to drive.
Driving to and from the mall I didn't do too bad- the only thing I seem to do alot is take turns at very high speeds. Speeds ranging from say, 15-25 mph. Freaked my mom out a bit, but it was ok- nothing damaged, truck didn't roll over. <_<
Once at the mall I split with my mom and headed to Electronic's Boutique. I surfed around for a good bit [I don't like to rush my selections] and picked out Metroid Prime + Kingdom Hearts, both with a pricetag of 17.99 on them. Good deal, eh?
Well, the guy hounded me about the preowned discount card and I gave in. What the hell? Maybe the guy would shut the fuck up about it everytime I came in. I saved, they ended up costing like 16.49 or something. Woo.
The main event was at FYE- I wanted a new metal CD so that I can be deaf by the time I'm 32. I arrived to see there were like 15-25 people congregated at the front of the store- I glanced into the window and saw "Meet Amanda Perez Today"- ah, shit.
The crowd was busy babbling to each other about how great it was to be here- I seemed to be the only person who wished to engage in capitalism at this place. I let out a pretty loud "Get out of my way"- that woke them up. At first they turned to see who said that- then they looked up and let me through.
Annoying crowds.
Inside wasn't that much better. There were people standing around, wanting to see miss Perez, whoever the hell she is [some R&B artist apparently].
I listened to a few of my CDs but it was drowned out by the load music by her they were playing- it was typical poppy, R&B sound and quite annoying.
Eh. I met her in passing. She seemed like a nice person, I shook her hand. Not my type of music though. So, to any Amanda Perez fans- uh, sorry? lol. Your favorite singer is nice? etc.
Wandered around for a bit till it was time to meet my mom at our usual meeting place.
Drove home, had supper. The nighttime internet chats were interesting. Have fun talking to a few people, hope some people's legs aren't acting up anymore. Helped a few people, was glad to do so.
But now, at 6 AM, I am truly tired. Mentally, physically, emotionally. I am tired. I have been tired, it is evident in my conversations with people past around 4 AM- I was getting tired.
So, I'm going to just rest.
Adios.
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Sunday, July 11, 2004
In my mind's eye, Horatio.
Man, I am surrounded by artists.
Ever since I was like 5 I wanted to draw. My imagination is so wacky, large and cool that I always thought it would be fantastic if I could just draw the shit that comes into my head.
See, I'm a [minutely] humorous person. If I could draw, I could have this webcomic, see. It would be cool, funny, well drawn and it would be my DREAM. I am a webcomic fanatic, I adore them- but I always spot things that would have made it funnier.
But, nein- no artistic qualities for Ken. The best bullshit I can do is abstract. Weird designs of what could be a spaceship or like a design for stained glass windows, lol. Just weird little things like that. The only artistic thing I'm good at is writing.
No, not even poetry. My poetry blows chunks. Just writing. Like this, like essays, stuff that no one really cares about- stuff that isn't really art. I have a way with words, I know that- when I speak publicly I can capture people's minds, hearts and ideas with my words. I weave them in ways that are great, I just can't.. write good poetry for some reason. The best I can do are those paragraphed stories I posted awhile back, the ones that were super morbid/cryptic. That is the only thing remotely resembling poetry/song lyrics I can do that I consider to be "good".
I'm not an artistic guy I guess. I'm more scientifically artistic instead of truly artistic. Ugh, it's just so annoying.
I'm thinking of just getting back into reading books. I used to love to read, but now I usually spend most of my time practicing my skills at tactical work- trying to be a better general than bookworm. Haha, nah. Nothing that dramatic. Just games and boredom eating my time away.
Reading was my other escape. I used to get a book, sit down and read it in a day. Just, one day- from like 2 in the afternoon to maybe 3-4 at night. Just read the whole book, smile, close it and set it down. Go to bed imagining myself into the story- a Ken in a Star War's novel or a Ken in The Castle in the Attic.
Were any of you guys into the Castle in the Attic? I adored that book. It was so fantastic, I wanted it to happen to me. Then there was The Battle for the Castle. It had like a ship with evil demented rats- as a kid I was really enthusiastic. I wanted to fight something! Some evil rats or something. Even then, with the darkness around me, I was very flamboyant sometimes- just really a fireball. My parents got really ticked off at it sometimes. They said that whenever I had a really crazy idea or was in a hyper, outgoing mood I get this little glint in my eye whenever I would grin.
Man those were great books. Even if they were kids books, they really took you places. Right now I'm trying to finish up Nueromancer. It's a good book, kinda longwinded in some spots- but I like it.
I just miss the days when you could just sit down with a book and read all day, without worrying about anyone or anything. Just go get lost in it, pretend that all the bullshit in your life isn't there- you aren't there, you are in the book. You are with the characters, battling evil rats on a ship maybe. Or with Han Solo fighting giant insects on a weird planet whose name you know you will forget- but you don't care! You are cheering Han on.
Ah, man. Those were the days. I always used the same bookmarker made out of notebook paper. Just fold it in a rectangle, decorate it yourself- voila, instant bookmark.
Now I get lost in my games. Why do you think I love RPGs? They have a story. Sometimes, I get annoyed. I don't want to fight this boss, or that monster. Don't want to get X item from X creature, or go to X location. I just want the story to keep going. Just want to hear what happens next, want to *read* more.
It never helped that I was/am superstitious. I believe in various myths and legends- they fly free in my imagination. I always have had this lingering horror of ghosts/UFO's. Always wondered if the Jersey Devil would fly out of the woods and chill on my porch or something. I guess it is a phobia of the unknown. At the same time, though, I want to courageously tackle this unknown person- I want them to know who Ken Howell is by a strong punch to the head if they think they can cause me to piss my pants that easily. You know what I mean? You're scared, but you know that you can prove yourself. You just would rather not have to. Yeah, I could take on some ghosts. Some demons. Some aliens. With gusto. I'll show them who's the scary creature to be reckoned with.
Cough, cough. If they exist.
Ah yeah, at night sometimes I get freaked if I hear something going bump on the roof. I grab a broom or something, ready to kick it's ass if it drops in. lol. It's kinda dorky, but at least I'm not hiding under the covers.
Behold the power of the broom? You bet your ass it is powerful. Got a nice strong hit with a piece of wood, that would send any denizen of the night reeling back under my heads. Woocha, broom powah!
Yeah, I doubt anything like that would happen but. You know, I'm kinda woo in the head.
Ahh, yeah. Superstitions, imagination, books. All sorta tie together.
The Neverending Story always taunted me. If I ever got that book there would be no more real life. Fuck real life, I would be spending all my time adventuring. Just wandering around.
Kinda like what I want to do/plan to do IRL, huh?
Ah, yeah. *pokes book* You and me gotta get back together, baby. Haha.
On another note, I saw Pulp Fiction uncensored last night on digital cable. That was a great movie. I'm kinda like Butch. I'd prolly get into the same situation in that sicko's shop. I'd prolly go through the hammer>baseball bat>katana bit. Prolly get off the hook with a crime lord the same way, lol. I loved that part, ah. Hot katana loving.
I recommend it to all. Just, if cussing makes you break out with a rash or be damned by whatever dumb deity you worship, you might want to avoid it. Also there is a small.. tiny.. little.. bit.. of blood. Just a tad. ;D
Well, yeah. I think I might just go read or something. No promises, though. Haha.
Sayonara chickas, dudes, dudettes, heads of state and otherwise.
*wields his sword and charges into some sort of weird battle*
The Impossible Dream
To dream the impossible dream
To fight the unbeatable foe
To bear the unbearable sorrow
To run where the brave dare not go
To right the unrightable wrong
To be better far than you are
To try when your arms are too weary
To reach the unreachable star
This is my quest to follow that star
No matter how hopeless, No matter how far
To fight for the right
Without question or pause,
To be willing to march into hell
For a heavenly cause
And I know if I'll only be true
To this glorious quest
That my heart will be peaceful and calm
When I'm laid to my rest
And the world would be better for this
That one man scorned and covered with scars
Still strove with his last ounce of courage
To reach the unreachable star.
-Joe Darion
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