Tuesday, June 29, 2004

   Sick
Sorry for not updating but I have bin so so sick. Unfortunately for the world I live ha ha ha ha . This has bin one long droune out week. For person reasons but at least wendsday the college starts it 4 of july brake. Another good thing is wendsday or thurseday mme and my brother are going to get explosives ( fire works), then I get to light them come the 4. Here are some poems I found but I could not find another story yet.
-I'm Fine
I have this problem
That I can't seem to fix
I make small cuts
and little nix

Just to see
My skin bleed
To make sure I'm real
Something I constantly need

Some people think
I have no problems in my life
It's only a problem to them
When I hold a knife

I just act like
Nothing affects me
But everything hurts
It's just no one can see

So just go on with your life
And I'll go on with mine
Nothing is ever wrong
I will always just be "Fine"
Posted by: Invisible World
-The Color Black
Black is good black is bad,
black is everything that is sad
Black is sorrow black is pain
Black is everyone that will rien
Black is sorrow in my eyes
black is everyone that will die
In darkness black is my light
for I am one of the children of the night
Black is like crimsom red in the sky
beautiful darkness that will never die
Flowing, black is like a river
it's cold heart will make you shiver
I'm not obsessed and not uptight
I just enjoy being in the night
Other colors are dull and boring
they will make me end up snoring
Black can bleed and can cry
so can we but we can die
Black goes with death and death goes with fright
you know what I mean but to others it's a blight
It can bring joy and fear
you can't escape it when it comes ever near
So in my eyes black is gore
black is everything I adore
Posted by: Cronos14
-Poem by Heather
As i sit here alone in this cold dark room So alone and so afraid I clutch the knife in my hand and watch the blood drip to the ground As I feel the rope tighten around my neck And the table begines to woble I stand on one foot trying to keep my ballance And I think to my self Is it really worth it? The table moves alittle more My foot slips Is this the end? Is it all over? All I can see is darkness As I slip in to what I call "LOVERS DEATH" BY: Heather Simmons
Posted by: Anonymous
-SuiCiDaL DReaM
SuiCiDaL DReaMVoices in my HeadBut I Dare not DreamThe pain I have feltMusta been a DreamYou ran away from meTo be by his sideAnd now I fearSoon I shall DieYou told me you loved meAnd this is the endMy heart has been brokenBut never againTo you I give Best wishesAnd hope for you a good LifeFor my time has run out hereAnd now I say goodbyeThis solid blade of steeleO' So very fineI take this piece of artAnd mix it with mineSlice through mortal fleshEasy as pieThe blood trickles downIt runs down my spineDrop to the floorDizzy am IFor I finaly did itI took my own LifePoEM By:-=)DarkTwiLighT(=-
Posted by: darktwilight
See what you want to see
Ashes to ashes and dust to dustWhat is love, when there is lust?Pain is good from time to timeA glimpse of hope is like a crime.To love and hold or to be aloneTo hear and talk or to be always home.As I look into you're eyesI feel my anger rise.To love to holdTo hear the untoldA life alone is like a curseOr is a live together worse?Chat Mautr
Posted by: Chat_Mautr
I am still pondering about that question. There was another but then I rememberd the end and it isn’t apropret for all reades espesaly the young males and it might give the females like bandit ideas of how to get even and we don’t wont that trust me.
here are some quiz results

How to make a gkelch82

Ingredients: 3 parts success 5 parts self-sufficiency 1 part leadership

Method: Combine in a tall glass half filled with crushed ice. Top it off with a sprinkle of emotion and enjoy!

Username:

Personality cocktail
From Go-Quiz.com

gkelch82 may explode without warning

M EXPLOSIVE

Username:

From Go-Quiz.com

Your Suicide.. by Konstantine
Your Name/Username
Favorite Number?
Favorite Color?
Gender?	FemaleMaleUndecidedBoth
How will you commit suicide?	You will jump off of the nearest, highest building
How many tries will it take?	61
When will you commit suicide?	June 17, 2023
What will your suicide note say?	Now there's simply one less heart left to break
Created with the ORIGINAL MemeGen!

Your Homicidal Rampage! by crash_and_burn
Your name:
Weapon of Choice:	Chain gun
Your Favorite Target:	Nymphomaniacs
Your Kill Count:	1,674,519,966
Your Battle Cry:	"Allow me to molest your face with this rod!"
Years You Spend in Jail:	18
How Much Money In Damages You Cause:	$243,008,393,182,849
Your Homocidal Insanity Level:: 92%
Created with the ORIGINAL MemeGen!

Generate your Anime Style by Jena-su
Name:
Hair:	Dark and cut short.
Clothes:	A bit revealing, but nothing too over the top.
Powers:	Psychic powers
Special Features:	None
Sidekick:	Small fluffy animal that talks...usually too much.
Attitude:	Cold and quiet.
Weapon:	Shuriken
Created with the ORIGINAL MemeGen!

What is Your Destiny? by Valcion
Name
Color
Birthday
Destiny	Destroyer of Human kind
Date when you fufill your destiny	January 27, 2009
Created with the ORIGINAL MemeGen!

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Friday, June 25, 2004

   LOCATION OF HELLS WRITING COLLECTION
Today has bin a great day first off work is killing me then it makes me miss my class and to top it off I have deemed my self clinically insane.
But this day hasn't bin a total loss i found a site that apples to my true nature. This site has stories, poems, and picks that I love and in honor of this site I will post on of them each day with authors of cores. Today I will post my three poems and a story, favorites so far. Other good things about to day are my brother finally gets out of drivers Ed so does bandit and I might get to see bandit today. If anyone wots this site just e-mail me at g_kelch82@yahoo.com

The End
the sweet, sweet end
how could this have been?
he was pondering with a knife by his side
are you wondering how he died?
the day he went to school
the day he came home a fool
people called him names for being himself
all he wants is to be his true self
he tried to ignore the remark
he was surrounded by the dark
He thought about cutting
he thought about killing
He told himself he should not
But his thoughts were caught in a knot
When he got home
he wrote a poem
that was his note
describing his fault
why he is doing this
why it shall be
that day he took that knife
that day he took his life
was the day of your win
the day he had been
the blood was on the bed
this mother found him dead
her life was saken
his life was taken
you won in the end
you lost no friend
because of this
there is loneiness
To his one and only true friend
THE SWEET, SWEET END
Posted by: the one who crys, the one who pains

Understand
i've lost myself
i don't know where
i'm bleeding now
i couldn't care
my hand it slipped
it was an accident i swear
i will hide it by the clothes that i wear
nobody shall ever
have to know
that i have my own scars
that i don't wish to show
its not my fault
nor that of a foe
that when the blade calls
i just can't say no
a perfect angel
that i can never be
unlike you i have problems
deep inside of me
the scars were no meant
for you to see
now that you have
you will try to help
it is just a lilttle cut
the skin enjoys the tear
this is my burden
that only i want to bare
i don't want you to stare
or for you to worry
all that i really want
is for you to pretend not to care
Posted by: Peaches

My love of a gothic princess
Beauty is red blood running
And the darkness of your soul
Beauty is your mind so cunning
I am forever yours

Beauty is you, my gothic princess
And the fear your presence inspires
Beauty is your black hair all in a mess
My love for you never tires

And beauty is your body in death
And the pale cold look on your face
And beauty is me dead next to you
We're off to our own special place

~'Till death do us part, and not even then~
Posted by: Darkened Eyes

For Pete's Sake

Think of the word “atrocity”. You probably don’t know what it means, but it is a good way to describe the contents of this story. Go back. Back to the old west days. You’re probably thinking of gunfights, and cowboys, all that stuff. Well, everything has a darker side. Even cowboys had things that go bump in the night!

It was around the year 1750 that Pete Williams’s wife and son were stricken with a strange illness. Like any good husband and father would do, Pete did his best to make them better. But, after three months of this unknown disease, they died. Pete never recovered from their deaths. For years, he talked very little, and barely ever left his farm. The townspeople all felt sorry for him, but at the same time, felt spooked. One evening, some of the townspeople were gathered in Maria Santiago’s saloon. They were chatting away, drinking, having a good time, when the town drunk, Joe, burst through the doors screaming “Fire, Fire!” The town sheriff, Jeb Smith, sat him down and asked him “What’s on fire?” Some of the townsfolk crowded around him. “I sawed the glow of fire out near ol’ Pete Williams’s place!” the drunk raved. “I heard Pete yellin’ some stuff, too!” “Maybe his barn caught fire!” Jeb’s wife Margie chipped in. “You go see if he needs help, an’ I’ll look after Joe.” Maria told them.

When the townsfolk arrived at the Williams farm, all they saw was Pete kneeled in front of a dead cow. The animal was covered in lacerations, and most of the skin was torn away. “What’s goin’ on, Pete?” the blacksmith, Ed McDonald, asked him. “One of my cows… had an accident.” The man replied. “Don’t look like no accident, that thing’s practically inside-out!” the sheriff exclaimed. “And old Joe said there was a glow, like a fire.” “You mean Joe, the drunk, is where you’re getting this? The man once thought a stable door the front of the bank.” “Well, he was a little tipsy that time…” Jeb replied. “He was sober when he came in.” “Well, if you’ll excuse me, I have to clean up my cow, so good day to you sirs.” Jeb said, tipped his hat. “Hold on, I’ll help yah.” The blacksmith said. As he reached down, he accidentally knocked Pete back, and with that, his hat came off and they all saw strange and intricate markings on his forehead. “What the hell’s those on yer forehead, Pete?” the deputy asked him. “Uhhh… nothing, I just fell in some gravel.” He hastily replied “I don’t need any help, thanks anyway. I think you’d all better leave.” And with that, they all went back to the saloon.

“Those markin’s weren’t made by no gravel. They looked like drawings of some sort.” The local doctor, Nate Phillips, muttered. The pastor, Reverend Paul Johnson declared “That boy hasn’t been right since the passing of his kin. What happened to that cow wasn’t natural. It was hacked up, mutilated.” “And the way he was kneeling in front of it. I thought I heard him muttering something.” The deputy piped up. “He must have been doin’ something evil, what with the markin’s and dead cow. Satan’s work!” “My children, there’s but one place we have for devil worshippers! The gallows!” “Enough of this devil talk, sit down and have a drink, Reverend!” The Reverend banged his fist on the bar and yelled “Silence, woman! We must remove this danger to God’s children, now and forever! To that damned farm, men!” And with that, the men followed the pastor to their horses and rode off to the Williams farm.

When they arrived, they saw Pete Williams come out of his house and waved to them. “Hey, gents, what’s up?” he shouted to the oncoming horsemen. “Grab that devil loving demon!” the pastor yelled. “Only then will you and your kin be safe from his evil ways!” Pete was taken aback by all this and started to open his front door, but the posse ran up the porch stairs and grabbed him. Roughly, they tied his hands, laid him on a horse. Before Pete could start to struggle, a powerful hand clubbed him in the back of the head and everything went black.

The posse rode back into town with their unconscious captive and the entire town was gathered out in the street to see what was going on.
Pete Williams came to and found himself tied to a chair in front of a podium. The Reverend came out of a nearby building and stepped up to the podium, gavel in hand. “You stand before this court, accused of witchcraft! How do you plead?” the reverend boomed. “I don’ know what th’ hell yer all talking about…” Pete replied groggily. “Explain the markings on your forehead then, devil-spawn!” the reverend replied with a stony glare. Pete said nothing. “As I thought! To the gallows with this pit-dog!” and with this, Pete Williams was hauled out of the chair and up a small platform. The sheriff put the noose around his neck and the reverend asked the condemned man “Any last words?” The farmer replied “I’m comin’ back for you! For all of you!” He just started to say “Miserable sons of…” when the trap door was dropped on he made the short drop and a quick stop.

After the townsfolk cut him down, they rolled up Pete’s cold body in a burlap sheet and threw him into a quickly dug grave. With this, the reverend muttered “May the lord have mercy on his soul.”

That night, there was a fairly large storm, and many sat, huddled in Maria’s saloon, sipping their drinks quietly, some playing cards, trying to forget what had happened that afternoon. As the storm raged, so did the everlasting fury of Peter Williams. The sands around his shallow grave started to swirl, and erode. As the thunder and lightning crashed in the distance, a hand burst out of the freshly turned soil. Another hand followed the first, and with that, a torso and head. The lips slowly parted, and a growl emerged that would have turned the bravest man’s blood to ice. This walking horror lifted itself from the shallow pit and trudged off towards the town.

Once again, Joe Washington had too much to drink. ‘Why do I drink?’ he thought. ‘Is it to forget?’ ‘I don’t remember anymore’. As he lay in the stable, barely awake, there was a shuffling by the door. ‘Who would be walking around at this hour in a storm?’ A raspy, rattling voice whispered to him “Would you like a drink, Joe? You always did.” Joe was a little scared, but a free drink was a free drink. “Sure buddy…” The voice replied “Here then, you pickled old drunk!” And a pale hand shot out from the silhouette and rapped around the drunk’s throat. The other hand took a bottle and rammed it down the man’s throat until you couldn’t see the glass and the throat was twice it’s normal size. The alcoholic fell to his knees clawing at his neck. “Nosy old ass!” The raspy voice said, and the silhouette faded away.

The following morning, a stable boy found the cold corpse of old Joe Washington and the townsfolk buried him up on the hill. “Bad way to die, Maria. Damn awful.” The town doctor muttered to the barkeep over his evening beer.

That evening, the sheriff and the reverend were out for a stroll under the stars, chatting quietly, when suddenly a raspy, rattling voice called to them from a few feet back. “Excuse me gents, but do you have a light?” The sheriff nodded and stepped forward with a match. As the lawman lifted it up, a pale hand snatched the badge from his shirt and rammed it into the man’s forehead. “How’s that for a weird marking!” the silhouette sneered. The reverend started to back away and let out a gasp. “Told you I’d be back, Paul. God did have mercy on my soul.” Before the frightened priest could reply, a filthy boot caught him in the stomach and he was roughly carried into the night.

That morning, some the townsfolk were exiting their homes, a few going to work. By seven o’ clock, almost all were gathered outside of the church. Reverend Paul Johnson was crucified on the steeple. Needless to say, there was already a pile of regurgitated breakfast in every alleyway on the block. The doctor and the deputy went around to the back of the church where they kept the ladder. It’s also where they found the sheriff’s body on the gallows, badge still protruding from his crusty forehead.
They were lain beside Joe Washington on the hill.
“Damn strange thing. Ol’ Pete said he’d be back, and people start getting mangled. Spooky.” Deputy Phil said nervously over a shot of rye in the saloon.

Nate Phillips was good friends with Ed the blacksmith. That evening, he decided to pay his pal a visit. He strolled down the dusty street and knocked on the smithy door.
The door creaked open and he was roughly pulled in. “Hey Ed, what’s the problem?” he exclaimed. Only it was his friend. Ed McDonald was shackled to the wall with bent iron rods. The good doctor only had enough time to gasp before a pale hand punched into his chest and ripped open his rib cage.

The people of Hopeburg found the blacksmith stapled to his wall, very dead, and the doctor with his arm bones, not the skin, just bones, protruding from his stomach and his ribcage torn open. Most of the contents were stuffed down his throat.

The citizens of Hopeburg were truly shaken. Five gruesome murders in three days. Most believed it was the angry spirit of Pete Williams, others chose not to think of it, lest they lose their breakfast. Both men were lain on the hill. Many widows wept that night.

Tomorrow afternoon, people were milling about in the street. Some children were playing with a dog. Ladies were gossiping. As this cheerfulness went on, a pale man stumbled down the street with what seemed to be a large piece of meat. A piece the size of a grown man. The figure stopped and stood in the middle of the road as all stared in shock. He tossed the meat in front of him and yelled in a rattling voice, head slightly to the side. He raised a hand and was holding the decapitated head of Deputy Phil. The wind and sands started to swirl around him. The lone figure yelled in a voice no man could have matched for volume. “VENGANCE!” Windows shook and horses whinnied in terror. The swirling finally overtook the figure and with a loud ‘crack’ the winds died down and the pale man was gone. Pete Williams said he’d be back, and he always keeps his word.

The town of Hopeburg never forgot what happened. They can’t. It drove a few insane.
Posted by: Minkis


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Thursday, June 24, 2004

   DEMON TEACHER
Sorry about not updating but college has bin time consuming. I have on teacher that wonts to kill me; i think it is because i'm annouying. But welding is fun i have burnt my hand atleast 9 times now and almost torched my gloves.
well thats all for now i have got to go clean my bunrs.
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Wednesday, June 16, 2004

SLEEP
For some unknow reason i just can't sleep tonight so i decided to updat this. sorry about the mistake last time with the results but hear they are.

My inner child is sixteen years old!

Life's not fair! It's never been fair, but while
adults might just accept that, I know
something's gotta change. And it's gonna
change, just as soon as I become an adult and
get some power of my own.


How Old is Your Inner Child?
brought to you by Quizilla

Mors


?? Which Of The Greek Gods Are You ??
brought to you by Quizilla


theOtaku.com: What Inuyasha Villain Are You?

theOtaku.com: What Anime Stereotype Are You?
Also hear is another result this is from the Quiz What is Your Anime Zodiac?

theOtaku.com: What is Your Anime Zodiac?
Yeaterday i narrly burnd my weling gove and my hand of in welding class it was fun lol.
got to go
love you bandit!!!!

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Monday, June 14, 2004

BAD MEMORY
Sorry for not updating sooner but it slipped my mind about my member ship here. From now on i will try to updat reguraly.
I took the quizes: what Inuyasha villain are you?, what greek god are you?, how old your inner child is?, and what anime steroetype are you? and hear are the results. a href="http://guru.theotaku.com/quiz.php?quiz=30">

theOtaku.com: What Inuyasha Villain Are You?img src="http://images.quizilla.com/J/jsimner/1062436747_sixteen.jpg" border="0" alt="My inner child is sixteen years old today">

My inner child is sixteen years old!

Life's not fair! It's never been fair, but while
adults might just accept that, I know
something's gotta change. And it's gonna
change, just as soon as I become an adult and
get some power of my own.


How Old is Your Inner Child?
brought to you by Quizillaimg src="http://images.quizilla.com/T/truly-dippy/1061402253_ktopdeath2.jpg" border="0" alt="mors">
Mors


?? Which Of The Greek Gods Are You ??
brought to you by Quizilla

theOtaku.com: What Anime Stereotype Are You?
I' so happy bandit retuned and i finaly got to go see her after that long week.
love bandit


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Wednesday, May 5, 2004

   New
I just started this so hi and i'm sorry if i suck at this but give me a break. Renee' i figured this out so no i can chat with you. well got to go late.
------love yu Renee'--------------
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