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the smallest breeze made by the wings of a butterly cascades and causes a typhoon halfway around the world.... This valid therory is the butterfly effect. I action small and benine causing others that may become far more destructive. Never have I witnessed this theory more then this night. 1 mis-step that cascaded into many binine actions that added up to chaos. For those who are like what the fuck is she talking about, well simple there are days that you will wake up and put your shirt on backwards and because u did other things happen cascaing growing to become something large. Those days no matter how much u feel it is your fault realiZe that u put that shirt on with no intention of causing issue. Dont kill yourself for things that are bigger then the small action that you did. To those who know what I am talking about. All i can offer is this I am sorry. But I didnt know that wearing my shirt backwards was going to lead to anything. Mistakes happen.

Poem

Wrath I knew it was coming very soon he would be here and the it would be too late how little was the time left how soon would he be here? can I prepare? can I calm him with music, or a clean atmospheere. can I allay the anger, or will he explode should I stay here yo be cornered or run out that door would it make any differance if dinner is served or will he be famished for other things will I survive the night here will I get what I deserve with bruises to remind me to listen to mind him will I get through the night to start over tomorrow to feel his body around me and relive the horror or will I leave this torment and enter the sky and enter the heaven and enter the air oh' if there is a God Please let me Die By Kathleen Laura Hardy 1995 age 17
I want you..... I need you..... I love you... I want you to fuck me I need you tied up and submisive to my will I love you when I fuck you so hard that I lose controle I want you.... I need you...... I love you..... I want you to paiste me together I need you to worry for me I love you when your desperate I want you... I need you... I love you I want you to beg me I need you to lose your will to me I love you as you bow to me I want you.... I need you.... I love you....
I wounder around, walking and sometimes just sitting at spots in this city. I stop in and look at the galeries and storefront displays. Some are flshy while other are simplier and I wounder why. How did I go from holding hand and kissing sweet lips to dancing fingers across keys and :*? I look at the store front I am at and

Tormentuous night

I feel a cold hand stroke down my spine, I stretch out to hold the shadowy form my mind presives in this haze, only to find my had pass right threw the memory. Shivering I wake, I look around at the dark room. At the walls and the things within them and wounder how I ended up here. I think about what I am and what I could have become. Of how lonely life has become. I think of the broken dream, and my eyes welm up because I wasnt supposed to be alone any more. I had found my laughter and some how I had shattered it and all that remains is the debree skattered heart. I pull the blankets close and though I am sweating I feel so cold. An unyeilding cold down in my soul. I ponder my exsistance and weither I am truely away or held somewhere cold and asleep. I long for this to be but a momentary dream, such that I would wake and find my home in order and my family whole. I long to believe that all is possible and I try for a moment to hold oto all possibilitys. that moment is only broken by the rage building and now exsploding forth. How dare he promise me that I would not be alone to leave me in the most loniest state I have ever been. To sequester me out i the middle of nowhere. And take al means of my escape away. I throw myself on my bed and cry. I hate him and yet every tear is for a memory, a kiss, a thought, a moment of purfection. I HATE HIM and yet I cry. I am alone . I lay down and still my mind spins. It tells me of all the things I could f or shoulda had and done. My thoughts are so cruel so unforgiving of the slightest error, they scream their judgment upon me and this is the sentance they give. Shouting louder and louder you will always be alone, no one will want you, you are the refuse. You were destroyed from the begining and will never be whole. Fallen fallen Fallen the alarm echos my mined, with hazey eyes I look at the time seering red into my eys until burned upon my brain 7:55. Time to begin again.

Sitting in the dark

Darkness is comforting to me. I feel safer here than in the harsh glare of noons son. I am at aww of the pale beauty which is the moon. Her fairnes and gentle glow that shows her soft gentle nature. She is my friend, her and her star companions and I watch them and wish that I could be infolded by the blanket of space. I am so tired of the false warmth of day. I the brightness that tries to hide the sorrow. I see threw the glimering sun and see all that is the fake for what it is. the smiles that are stretched too tight to be happy, the house which is too chaotic and cluttered to be tranquil. The family too strained to feel love. At least at night I am not being flooded with the fake cardboard people on display. The mother and father with their 2.5 children. The house painted and ordered. Atleast at night I see the truth as it is, with noone trying to tell me that some how the sun will make it better. that some how things will not be broken. In this greatest of times, midnight I embrace the destruction of my life and apreshiate each fallen bit of rubble. I swim in pools of emotions. Some times I dive into depths of sorrow, but I knew it was there and so swim in it willingly. I lay and remember each kiss the first and last and hold on to and relish the feeling of each. In this hour I think of those whom I have loved and lost and yet still love no matter how much my heart still bleeds from them. I feel the darkness imbrace me as her child infolding me in her arms and I willingly go down into her. And as I lay upon my bed. I remember each embrace. The fire heat of each man that touched me. The discust of those who stole what was never give them. The loss of inocense long gone. The delight and exsileration of the first taiste of passion and the sorrow of the fruit which has lost its flavor. and then I fall and enter a darkness more vast and without end whch is my soul

Sitting in the dark

hello... who am I talking to? hmm maybe you or maybe myself, but most likely no one. But if I am talking or rather you are reading then I guess someone has deemed this to be worth looking at. So I will do my best not to saturate this section of Lost cherry in piss. Now that the hello is out of the way what the fuck is this blog about. Hmm well it is an anilization of perhaps a dull and benine speciemen of human life to most, but to others a seacrt deep chasm of darknes light and grey.... Perhaps you will find me to be to your liking and nibble upon me until you are full. Or perhaps I will be blasbify to thy sence of taiste and you shall spit me out taking none of me with you. Perhaps that is what you have done and of course then you would no longer be reading the words wich are spawning from the cage I call my mind. For those who have gotten a nibble and have not spewed regeritating it up, perhaps a part of me will lingure in you and you will look upon the world, if only for a moment from my darkened eyes.
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