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Wed, Sep. 7th, 2005 | 09:07 pm  ‏‏␦ scared  The Isis script-MY DYING BRIDE slavezombie


terror level
slavezombie
The recent events of catastrophic nature that has been in the news for a week now is on everybody`s (everybodies) mind. i can`t spell, so sorry. Time magazine had headlines that revealed a light-hearted position in which New Orleans residents half heartedly chided a future in which gondolas for transportation would be the major source of transportation.

What I see is this. New York suffers a major death toll in 2001 (along with Washington at the Pentagon), New Orleans falls victim to a hurricane in which the death count is yet to be determined. So, what has me stressing out is the question of whether some kind of eminent force is sweeping across the states in a westwardly direction.

I say force because it wouldn`t be likely that the Taliban have found a way to pray to Ala for destruction to a target by way of Hurricane Katrina. That`s about as believable as throwing into the ocean an empty wine bottle with a scroll tightly rolled up inside it for delivery to an anonymous recipient. I tend to hand print music lyrics to my favorite songs in calligraphy as an outlet to my tortured mind, then, not having any use of it, other than the satisfaction that my skill aren`t fading, I find interesting ways to discard my work. I think it was August 14 when I went to S.M. with a bottle containing just that, songs that I doodled up in fancy script, at 1:00am. The only pkg spots available were next to vans and/or cars with tinted windows. I pulled into one trying desperately not to disturb the car next to me which had fogged up windows. I sluggishly make way to the shoreline to toss a bottle as far as I can, which isn`t very far, and succeed to strain my wrist. The next day I couldn`t remember why my hand felt painful. Co-workers suspect I use it to jerk off. I doubt my message in a bottle made it out to sea, but it`s not in my house taking up precious space anymore, which is what matters. I still have a lot of unnecessary junk labeled as pack-rat necessities. They are mostly trinkets that one doesn`t get rid of until something major happens like moving to a nicer house.


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