CONFESSIONS AND LOT OF OTHER DISCLOSED ARTIFACTS FINALLY EXPOSED
*an old man approaches the bench with a big brown book in his hands....he gently coughs and greets it with a smile. He slowly sits in the bench that is sorrounded by wide-eyed onlookers, hopelessly awaiting a tale that will surely keep them at bay, excited, and teach them something.
he rests the book on his lap and gently stretches his hands, hand that show age and experience, he then gently opens the book where his place holder was placed and begins*
gather 'round children, it's time for your most emotional and delusional buddy to tell you a tale.
a story about a man who's thoughts are on the past, and that he, like many of you at times, wishes they could have stayed in those simpler times.....rather than the harsh reality that is the current.
*He places his glasses on his face, gently blows the dust away and sits in an upright position*
He thinks. He Cannot stop thinking.
Think of someone. This. That. That Life. Those days of past.
That dream was his.
A utopian dream.
But like all stars, his died.
That gas was gone.
No pull between.
The atmosphere was dry
and he begins to choke on the tears in his eye.
It was like he was taken from his star - like a child being taken from its favorite
toy - he did not know what was happening.
Dazed. Confused. Without true reality, there he sits.
Wondering.
He faces the world with a smile, no one knows what is hid inside.
They see only happiness, they cant see the tears he's cried.
When he is alone it hurts, because there he does it well.
In front of all the watchful eyes of heaven his world turns to hell.
inside he still sings that someone's song.
he sings and drinks,
and sleeps on floors,
and tries hard not to be annoyed,
by all those people worrying about him.
So when he's suffering through some awful drive,
that person occasionally crossese his mind.
It's his hidden hope that this said person is still among them.
are you?
*gently places the place holder in between where he was reading and closes the book for all to see*
this story, children, is about a man who wishes for things.
a thinker....a wanderer.....
a dreamer
you all dream of things, some will achieve, some might never get outside the home....but we all struggle
we all suffer
we all live life.
I've never had a father....I've had a dad
and to tell you the truth, i liked the dad more because he was my father.
I taught myself to be a better person, and it shows in everything i do
i hafta to admit that it's hard at times, but i dont complain
because the happiness it's the only reward that i want.....
even if that happiness comes from someone else, rather than my own happiness.
I want to be like my papo
and i hope I have not disapointed you yet
hey charlie? you up there?
it's your big brother ed!
how's life up there?
i wonder how life would be if you'd were here with us.
wonder how you'd look aside edmundo? probably like edmundo but with blonde hair, lol
hmmmmm, it's the internet whore syndrome....except rather than just keep posting pictures and trying to get as much attention as possible.
i actualy just write alot about myself and what im feeling.....
weird, lol
later gaters, take care
he rests the book on his lap and gently stretches his hands, hand that show age and experience, he then gently opens the book where his place holder was placed and begins*
gather 'round children, it's time for your most emotional and delusional buddy to tell you a tale.
a story about a man who's thoughts are on the past, and that he, like many of you at times, wishes they could have stayed in those simpler times.....rather than the harsh reality that is the current.
*He places his glasses on his face, gently blows the dust away and sits in an upright position*
He thinks. He Cannot stop thinking.
Think of someone. This. That. That Life. Those days of past.
That dream was his.
A utopian dream.
But like all stars, his died.
That gas was gone.
No pull between.
The atmosphere was dry
and he begins to choke on the tears in his eye.
It was like he was taken from his star - like a child being taken from its favorite
toy - he did not know what was happening.
Dazed. Confused. Without true reality, there he sits.
Wondering.
He faces the world with a smile, no one knows what is hid inside.
They see only happiness, they cant see the tears he's cried.
When he is alone it hurts, because there he does it well.
In front of all the watchful eyes of heaven his world turns to hell.
inside he still sings that someone's song.
he sings and drinks,
and sleeps on floors,
and tries hard not to be annoyed,
by all those people worrying about him.
So when he's suffering through some awful drive,
that person occasionally crossese his mind.
It's his hidden hope that this said person is still among them.
are you?
*gently places the place holder in between where he was reading and closes the book for all to see*
this story, children, is about a man who wishes for things.
a thinker....a wanderer.....
a dreamer
you all dream of things, some will achieve, some might never get outside the home....but we all struggle
we all suffer
we all live life.
I've never had a father....I've had a dad
and to tell you the truth, i liked the dad more because he was my father.
I taught myself to be a better person, and it shows in everything i do
i hafta to admit that it's hard at times, but i dont complain
because the happiness it's the only reward that i want.....
even if that happiness comes from someone else, rather than my own happiness.
I want to be like my papo
and i hope I have not disapointed you yet
hey charlie? you up there?
it's your big brother ed!
how's life up there?
i wonder how life would be if you'd were here with us.
wonder how you'd look aside edmundo? probably like edmundo but with blonde hair, lol
hmmmmm, it's the internet whore syndrome....except rather than just keep posting pictures and trying to get as much attention as possible.
i actualy just write alot about myself and what im feeling.....
weird, lol
later gaters, take care