1937 lines
56 KiB
Plaintext
1937 lines
56 KiB
Plaintext
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ÚÄ Ü Ü Ü Ü Ä¿
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Ûßß ÛßÛ ß Û Û Ûßß ÜÜÛ ß ÛÛÜ Û Ü
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ßßÛ ÛÜÛ Û Û Û Ûß Û Û Û Û Þ ÛÜß
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ÛÛÛ Û ÛÛÛ ÛÛÛ ÛÛÛ ÛÛÛ ÛÛÛ ÛÛÛ Û Þ ÛßÛ
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ÀÄ ÄÙ
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Ä electronic literary 'zine Ä
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*ÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ*
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ù ÄÄ´ volume seven ÃÄÄ ù
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*ÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ*
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stop plagiarism - let out your soul
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Copyright 11+12/95
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ú úùcompiled & edited by Twilightùú ú
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ÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ
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þ Table of Contents þ
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ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúù
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1. Bodies - Billy Corgan
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2. Bullet With Butterfly Wings - Billy Corgan
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3. Colors - Teufel Hunden
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4. Drops Of Love - Phillips
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5. Downtown - Derek De Prator
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6. Dung Heap - Lynn Bonhomme
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7. Engulf - Twilight
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8. Eternal - Rude or Obscene
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9. Fate Of Humanity - Twilight
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10. Foxfires - Zita Maria Evensen
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11. Have You Ever Really Loved A Woman? - Bryan Adams
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12. He Hit Me (And It Felt Like A Kiss) - Carol King & Jerry Goffin
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13. Hold Me - Inigo Montoya
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14. How You Made Me Feel - Gena Schwam
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15. I Am A Dream... - Milady
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16. I Am Standing Upon The Seashore - Anonymous
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17. If We'd Tried - Rude or Obscene
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18. In The Arms Of Sleep - Billy Corgan
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19. Paint A Suicide Picture - Janet Kuypers
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20. Pebbles From Bricks - Max Raven
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21. Sores - Gena Schwam
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22. Sugar Coma - Courtney Love
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23. Sunset - Russ Costa
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24. Sweet Masochism - Jeff Stack
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25. The End - Teufel Hunden
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26. The Next Time - Colby C. Enck
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27. The Sky Is Falling - Twilight
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28. The Spider - Benjamin Cushman
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29. Things You Didn't Do - Anonymous
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30. Tonight, Tonight - Billy Corgan
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31. Untitled - Gena Schwam
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32. Wanting - Jeff Woods
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33. Waterfalls - TLC
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34. We Can Still Be Friends - Rude or Obscene
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35. Where You Are Not - Michael McNeilley
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36. You'll See - Madonna
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þ Including Quotes From:
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"V.C. Andrews", Anthrax, _The Breakfast Club_, Robb Buzsny, Billy Corgan,
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Courtney Love, Ian Moore, Thurston Moore, Vladimir Nabokov, Krist Novoselic,
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Anne Rice, Elyse Singer, Olaf Tyaransen, and Ziola
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ÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ
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Bodies
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þ Billy Corgan
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ùúùúùúùúùúùúùú
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cast the pearls aside, of a simple life of need
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come into my life forever
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the crumbled cities stand as known
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of the sights you have been shown
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of the hurt you call your own
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love is suicide
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the empty bodies stand at rest
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casualites of their own flesh
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afflicted by their dispossession
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but no bodies ever knew
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nobodys
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no bodies felt like you
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nobodys
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love is suicide
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now we drive the night, to the ironies of peace
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you can't help deny forever
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the tragedies reside in you
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the secret sights hide in you
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the lonely nights divide you in two
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all my blisters now revealed
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in the darkness of my dreams
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in the spaces in between us
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but no bodies ever knew
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nobodys
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no bodies felt like you
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nobodys
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love is suicide
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"This is us being us. Accept no substitutes." Ä Thurston Moore
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Bullet With Butterfly Wings
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þ Billy Corgan
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ùúùúùúùúùúùúùú
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the world is a vampire, sent to drain
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secret destroyers, hold you up to the flames
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and what do i get, for my pain
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betrayed desires, and a piece of the game
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even though i know - i suppose i'll show
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all my cool and cold-like old job
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despite all my rage, i am still just a rat in a cage
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then someone will say what is lost can never be saved
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despite all my rage, i am still just a rat in a cage
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now i'm naked, nothing but an animal
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but can you fake it, for just one more show
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and what do you want, i want to change
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and what have you got
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when you feel the same
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even though i know - i suppose i'll show
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all my cool and cold-like old job
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despite all my rage, i am still just a rat in a cage
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then someone will say what is lost can never be saved
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despite all my rage, i am still just a rat in a cage
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tell me i'm the only one
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tell me there's no other one
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jesus was an only son
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tell me i'm the chosen one
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jesus was an only son for you
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despite all my rage, i am still just a rat in a cage
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and i still believe that i cannot be saved
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"On behalf of Dave, Pat, and I, I would like to thank all for your concern at
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this time. We remember Kurt for what he was: caring, generous, and sweet.
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Let's keep the music with us; we'll always have it, forever. Kurt had an
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ethic toward his fans that was rooted in the punk rock way of thinking: no
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band is special, no player royalty. If you've got a guitar and a lot of
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soul, just bang something out and mean it. You're the superstar, plugged
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into tones and rhythms that are uniquely and universally human; music. Heck,
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use your guitar as a drum; just catch a groove and let it flow out of your
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heart. That's the level that Kurt spoke to us on, in our hearts. And that's
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where he and the music will always be, forever." Ä Krist Novoselic
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Colors
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þ Teufel Hunden
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ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúù
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Words are colors,
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Letters simply pigment splashed across a page.
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Red is fiery, is anger and passion.
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Blue for depression.
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A pen is poised, ready in hand
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To spit out words, the day's end butts of old cigars
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Splattering on the page, a dull yellow stain spreading;
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Yellow is loneliness.
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Words dribble out, honey for the tongue,
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Like the empty drops of time
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Slipping into a bucket, waiting to be filled;
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And when full
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To be emptied again.
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Love can be rose.
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In my dreams
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I held you tight as you slept,
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Smelled the new grass scent of your hair as you slept,
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Heard the soft, steady beat of your heart as you slept,
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Felt the warm touch of your cheek on my skin as you slept,
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Tasted the bitter salt of my tears as you slept,
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Saw the enveloping darkness as you slept,
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Black is peace.
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Then I awoke, alone
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The morning sun pouring through my window.
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White is emptiness.
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"Emptiness is loneliness, and loneliness is cleanliness, and cleanliness is
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godliness, and god is empty just like me." Ä Billy Corgan
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Drops Of Love
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þ Phillips
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ùúùúùúùúùúùúù
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I wipe the mask off your face
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it drips onto my shoulder
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down my chest
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it smears my cheek
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part of your precious life
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wiped away with my hand
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so little effort
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for so much destruction
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tiny drops trickle their way down my arm
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your life drips from my fingertips
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deep silence
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not a single thought crossing my mind
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for what i have done IS unthinkable
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unspeakable
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to sacrifice the one i love.
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Pricking into your stomach
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the pain of love
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is so deep
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Torn to pieces
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from the inside out
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your emotions spill out onto my face
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wounds manifest around your heart
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so much pain for such few words
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yet no scars
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nor blood
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just tears
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and indefinable pain
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"Pain gives you strength, strength pushes you forward, hate holds you back."
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Downtown
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þ Derek De Prator
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ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúù
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as we troll the streets together
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roaming the south side
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smoking our lungs away
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talking on and on until we can talk no more
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as we stroll the downtown
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where many people go
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for their own reasons
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an escape
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from their lives
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an escape
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from the confines of suburbia
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an escape
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from the close confines of their homes
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we'll go together
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so we won't be alone
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you'll drift into the night
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like a bird that's in flight
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i look at you
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i watch you
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in your thrift store clothes
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and the way you talk to me
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is hypnotizing me
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like the sun beating down upon us
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the sun that will not leave us alone
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the streets are full of people
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skaters
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bangers
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hippies
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punks
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whatever the trend calls them
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they walk the streets
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with their backpacks
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full with souvenirs of the city
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they've walked up and down for hours
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waiting for a place to sit down and rest
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but there is another store
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with another shirt or a record or a cd
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that screams out for them
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to waste their money some more
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to spend their time walking around the store
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looking for that something
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that one thing they couldn't find anywhere but here
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for this is not someplace they get to go everyday
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people have jobs
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or go to school
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or have other more important things to do
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but they will always flock
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they will always be drawn like zombies
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and they will always be back again
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because after all
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this is
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downtown.
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"It was like dipping a stick into the ocean and trying to write something -
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all the little people of the world spinning out little patterns that lasted
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no more than a few years, and meant nothing at all." Ä Anne Rice
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Dung Heap
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þ Lynn Bonhomme
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ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúù
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I have climbed this dung hill called life
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reaching the top thru toil and sweat
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and what I found at the top of this hill
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was that I had a better view of shit
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"Women are not encouraged to scream 'Fuck you' and mean it. As someone who
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rarely blasts music for the pure pleasure of it, I had forgotten what a
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release it is to let music thrash through your system. To scream *real
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loud*, backed up by electric guitars and a kick-ass drummer. To feel the
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power of a rock star." Ä Elyse Singer, regarding Hole
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Engulf
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þ Twilight
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ùúùúùúùúùú
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in the dark, dripping cave
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one small droplet languidly falls,
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reeling towards the earth -
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plopping serenely, yet so solemnly
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from the pointed tip of an icicle
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into the massive, glistening pool.
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and the crystalline twinkle
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envelopes the resounding echo,
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flirting ever-so-cautiously
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while piercing a hole in its tranquility,
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sucking into a gripping, deep void.
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and the little arms furiously pull,
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desperately clenching for the missing piece
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to join them and become one.
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invisible but for a few dancing ripples -
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already disappearing...unifying...
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until the fading screams are finally engulfed
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once again by the deadly still of silence.
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"[Courtney Love stagedived] in one of the bootleg videos I ordered from some
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guy on the Net. I ended up looping a clip of her stage dive into the play
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['Love in the Void']. She stands at the edge of the stage and then climbs
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atop the mass of screaming bodies and outstretched hands. She dives three
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times and, in the fourth, is held aloft and then swallowed by the pit.
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Terrifying. I realized that her stage diving could be compared to her
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journey through the Internet, and crowd/Net surfing became another 'Love in
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the Void' theme. Putting herself into the hands of her fans, whether
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physically or psychologically. Diving into the void." Ä Elyse Singer
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Eternal
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þ Rude or Obscene
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ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúù
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A neverending craving
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Life couldn't satisfy
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A soul that's not worth saving
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A body that won't die
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My mind is getting sharper
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As my soul is turning grey
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And I'm running through the darkness
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And I'm running from the day.
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Fate Of Humanity
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þ Twilight
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ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùú
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A feared leap onto a hidden stepping stone
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Blindfolded and reaching,
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along the chosen path
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I found a hand -
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The first niche in a darkened world
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The initial feeling of belonging.
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My first friend of my new beginning,
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at ease, tranquil, yet eager to please.
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And then I felt like I belonged...
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amidst those so foreign.
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Alongside, a carried torch,
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a happily flickering light
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to brighten the drab grey stones
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that surrounded and engulfed
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A leader, a guide, my mentor...
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But as soon as I found my balance,
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when I could finally stand alone,
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and easily found new places to step -
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I didn't need the hand...anymore.
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Yet within, I never forgot the aid
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that was so generously given...
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And of late, I see so much has dimmed...
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A selfish bastard snuffed the torch,
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bringing down thick a blanket of darkness
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and leaving that gaping hole
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where such a happy disposition
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could always have been depended upon.
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I carry on in solemn tranquility,
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silently mourning, quietly grieving,
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thinking that one so bright...
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will never again rest his eyes on the sun...
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and feel its delicious warmth.
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In such a world, light diminishing
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leadens the hope in such penetrating doom
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as the youthful are constantly
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being taken away -
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I mourn the loss of a friend
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and the fate of humanity...
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The only consolation is that
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his creative soul...
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may ever fly free.
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"The death of another person is perhaps the only genuine supernatural event
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we ever experience." Ä Anne Rice
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Foxfires
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þ Zita Maria Evensen
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ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùú
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in the realm of your intelligences
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are kings, advisors, paupers,
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monkeys chattering gossips
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and charlatans with maple-syrup tongues
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that make skycrapers shed honey-dew
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for thirsty aphids and rover ants
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listen to the breast-beatings of those
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who come to confessionals
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with haloed piety of a saint asking forgiveness
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for dispensing toxic advice
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and wanton morality
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there is a little boy's mind
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slinging stones at stain glass windows
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of the house of beautiful language
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there are skeptics
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addicted to burning manuscripts
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and lovers who do not listen at all
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"Give me a man or woman who has read a thousand books and you give me an
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interesting companion. Give me a man or woman who has read perhaps three
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and you give me a dangerous enemy indeed." Ä Anne Rice
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Have You Ever Really Loved A Woman?
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þ Bryan Adams
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ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúù
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To really love a woman,
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To understand her,
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You've got to know her deep inside
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Hear every thought,
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See every dream,
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And give her wings when she wants to fly
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Then when you find yourself lying helpless in her arms,
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You know you really love a woman
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When you love a woman,
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You tell her that she's really wanted
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When you love a woman,
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You tell her that she's the one
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She needs somebody to tell her that it's gonna last forever
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So tell me have you ever really...really, really ever loved a woman
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To really love a woman,
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Let her hold you,
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'Til you know how she needs to be touched
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You've got to breathe her, really taste her
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'Til you can feel her in your blood
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And when you see your unborn children in her eyes
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You know you really love a woman
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You've got to give her some faith,
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Hold her tight, a little tenderness
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You've got to treat her right
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She will be there for you, taking good care of you
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You really gotta love your woman
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And when you find yourself lying helpless in her arms,
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You know you really love a woman
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When you love a woman,
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You tell her that she's really wanted
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When you love a woman,
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You tell her that she's the one
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She needs somebody to tell her that you'll always be together
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So tell me have you ever really...really, really ever loved a woman
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He Hit Me (And It Felt Like A Kiss)
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þ Carol King & Jerry Goffin
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ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúù
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He hit me, and it felt like a kiss
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He hit me, but it didn't hurt me
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He couldn't stand to hear me say
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That I'd been with someone new
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And when I told him I had been untrue
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He hit me, and it felt like a kiss
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He hit me, and I knew he loved me
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'Cause if he didn't care for me
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I could have never made him mad
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And he hit me, and I was glad
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Baby won't you stay...
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He hit me, and it felt like a kiss
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He hit me, and I knew I loved him
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'Cause when he took me in his arms
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With all the tenderness there is
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He hit me, and he made me feel
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Baby won't you stay...
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"I still dream a dream of humanity." Ä Ian Moore
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Hold Me
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þ Inigo Montoya
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ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúù
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Hold me
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in your soft brown eyes
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the ones which weep withered rose petals
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for the sadness that they see in me
|
|
Hold me
|
|
not as a lover, but as a friend
|
|
because I need not one who will leave
|
|
but one who will remain and
|
|
hold me
|
|
as I lose my passion for life
|
|
angry at a world's mystery vacated
|
|
and an innermost core destroyed
|
|
hold me
|
|
that I am not strong
|
|
in hiding behind false arrogance
|
|
afraid to be me left alone
|
|
unheld
|
|
like all the days when the rain
|
|
and all the nights when the pain
|
|
made me long for a death which would
|
|
hold me
|
|
forever and let me burn away
|
|
in the paradise of tender arms
|
|
which would crush me gently as they
|
|
hold me
|
|
because you can see into me
|
|
into my loving heart bleeding upon my armour
|
|
as it fills with fear that no one will
|
|
hold me
|
|
and come to know the person that I really am
|
|
beneath the man who I am not
|
|
as the loneliness consumes him
|
|
hold me
|
|
because I can trust your touch on my cheek
|
|
against your body
|
|
where I can trust you just to
|
|
hold me.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
How You Made Me Feel
|
|
þ Gena Schwam
|
|
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùú
|
|
|
|
so alone
|
|
dying frightened
|
|
angry child
|
|
reverted to pre-adolescent
|
|
screaming
|
|
no one listening
|
|
walls caving in
|
|
heart disassembled
|
|
jelly blobs of
|
|
bleeding red
|
|
|
|
i cried and you
|
|
laughed at me
|
|
my tears were heightened
|
|
in their flow
|
|
|
|
and the emerging wave of
|
|
anger burst forth
|
|
a broken vein
|
|
gushing spurting
|
|
black words
|
|
poisonous echoes
|
|
and from you
|
|
|
|
silence
|
|
|
|
cavernous sadness
|
|
racing nausea
|
|
how i love you
|
|
|
|
i cannot hold on
|
|
the rope is tangling
|
|
around my neck
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
"Intoxicated with the madness, I'm in love with my sadness..." Ä Billy Corgan
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
I Am A Dream...
|
|
þ Milady
|
|
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúù
|
|
|
|
I am a dream in the day
|
|
One that sleep does not require
|
|
To feel me without touch
|
|
To caress with infinite desire
|
|
Closed eyes see me shadow
|
|
While taste is just a memory
|
|
Mind's fragrance is of the essence
|
|
And time thinks of me
|
|
Waiting for you to hold me
|
|
And feel your tender touch
|
|
My heart beats wildly
|
|
For the one I miss so much
|
|
Only the day will know your thoughts of me
|
|
And the night shall bring me there
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
"'Reality' [is] one of the few words which mean nothing without quotes."
|
|
Ä Vladimir Nabokov
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
I Am Standing Upon The Seashore
|
|
þ Anonymous
|
|
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúù
|
|
|
|
White sails to the morning breeze and starts for the blue ocean. She is an
|
|
object of beauty and strength. I stand and watch her until at length she
|
|
hangs like a speck of white cloud just where the sea and sky come to mingle
|
|
with each other.
|
|
|
|
Then someone at my side says, "There, she is gone!"
|
|
|
|
"Gone where?"
|
|
|
|
Gone from my sight. That is all. She is just as large in mast and hull and
|
|
spar as she was when she left my side and she is just as able to bear her load
|
|
of living freight to her destined port.
|
|
|
|
Her diminished size is in me, not in her. And just at the moment when someone
|
|
at my side says "There, she is gone!," there are other eyes watching her
|
|
coming, and other voices ready to take up the glad shout, "Here she comes!"
|
|
|
|
And that is dying.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
"It's amazing the capacity people have to learn. You NEVER cease learning...
|
|
you spend half your life (sometimes all of it) searching for an identity and
|
|
trying to establish beliefs; and though you may establish your beliefs,
|
|
you'll never know everything there IS to know regarding yourself. You,
|
|
yourself, are so infinite...it's wonderful." Ä Ziola
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
If We'd Tried
|
|
þ Rude or Obscene
|
|
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúù
|
|
|
|
Last night while I was sleeping
|
|
I closed my eyes to see
|
|
Standing at that wide ravine
|
|
You were there with me
|
|
Together in that sacred place
|
|
Shunning time and gauging space
|
|
We reminisced of childhood dreams
|
|
And all our adolescent schemes
|
|
Making plans and setting goals
|
|
We'd doused the fires but teased the coals
|
|
We laughed
|
|
But still
|
|
We must have cried
|
|
We might be dead
|
|
We might have died
|
|
We might have made our dreams come true
|
|
You might have made it
|
|
I might have too
|
|
We might have lept that wide ravine
|
|
And who knows what we might have seen?
|
|
We might be dead
|
|
We might have died
|
|
But we might have made it
|
|
If we'd tried.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
In The Arms Of Sleep
|
|
þ Billy Corgan
|
|
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùú
|
|
|
|
sleep will not come to this tired body now
|
|
peace will not come to this lonely heart
|
|
there are some things i'll live without
|
|
but i want you to know that i need you right now
|
|
i need you tonite
|
|
i steal a kiss from her sleeping shadow moves
|
|
'cause i'll always miss her wherever she goes
|
|
and i'll always need her more than she could ever need me
|
|
i need someone to ease my mind
|
|
but sometimes a someone is so hard to find
|
|
and i'll do anything to keep her here tonite
|
|
and i'll say anything to make her feel all right
|
|
and i'll be anything to keep her here tonite
|
|
'cause i want you to stay, with me
|
|
i need you tonite
|
|
she comes to me like an angel out of time
|
|
as i play the part of a saint on my knees
|
|
there are some things i'll live without
|
|
but i want you to know that i need you right now
|
|
suffer my desire
|
|
suffer my desire
|
|
suffer my desire for you
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
"Although Courtney Love's language [on the Internet] provided the inspiration
|
|
for 'Love in the Void', the play really took off once we experienced the
|
|
music first-hand - in the pit, in our lungs. And it felt damn good to
|
|
finally inhale." Ä Elyse Singer
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Paint A Suicide Picture
|
|
þ Janet Kuypers
|
|
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúù
|
|
|
|
To the family of Jocelyn Burn
|
|
|
|
|
|
I found these letters, you see, and I didn't know what else to do with them.
|
|
I just moved into an apartment on the lower east side, and there was a box of
|
|
belongings left in a storage space in the back of my pantry. There were
|
|
mostly old pots and pans in there, so I didn't think anything of it, but then
|
|
I came across these letters. I assume they are from your sister, because I
|
|
liked her music (I even saw a show of hers in Phoenix), and the date of the
|
|
last letter corresponds with the day she passed away.
|
|
|
|
I didn't know what to do with these letters. They weren't in envelopes, so
|
|
there was no address, and my landlord refuses to tell me who used to live
|
|
here. Security purposes, he tells me. They haven't tried to get their
|
|
belongings back, and I waited a while for them in case they did. I almost
|
|
wanted to keep them for myself; they just seemed to say so much, I felt like
|
|
I had almost felt these things. I didn't want to give them up. But I know
|
|
your family would have wanted to read them. They belong to you.
|
|
|
|
Let me just tell you to prepare yourself for these letters. They are from the
|
|
last month of her life. She was going to a few shows... I don't know why she
|
|
felt the way she did. Her band was starting to make it. The radios gave her
|
|
air play in the last two months. These letters are sad to read.
|
|
|
|
I don't know who the letters are addressed to. Maybe you do. I wish I did.
|
|
I suppose it doesn't matter now, though I would like to see the mystery
|
|
revealed. I'm sure you feel more strongly about this than I do, but I would
|
|
like to know why.
|
|
|
|
The fame and love she looked for she received partly because of her death.
|
|
She is now revered. If only she could feel it.
|
|
|
|
I hope these letters answer some questions for you, or possibly bring you
|
|
some peace. They are strong letters. I am sorry for your loss.
|
|
|
|
Joe Pagliano
|
|
New York, New York
|
|
|
|
|
|
*
|
|
September 23
|
|
|
|
i hate everyone and everything. why can't i find someone that cares about me?
|
|
even a best friend? even someone who claims to want to spend the rest of
|
|
his life with me? even if i can't stand him? why do i feel so worthless?
|
|
why do people stab me in the back? i hate you all. i really hate the fact
|
|
that you hurt me so much.
|
|
|
|
i really want to not exist for a while. i'm tired of people hurting me. i'm
|
|
tired of people.
|
|
|
|
there are some times when i feel so lonely and unwanted that i want to die. i
|
|
want it all to end. i just hate having to deal with the people in life that
|
|
make life difficult.
|
|
|
|
when i start in this cycle, i just know that i fall farther and farther down.
|
|
who do i blame for this? i want to blame someone so i can think it isn't my
|
|
fault. that i don't have a terrible fault that brings all this pain on me.
|
|
i really need to get away from here. i need to find someone that cares.
|
|
i think i care about myself, but god, i want to know that i am not the only
|
|
one. i feel so lonely, so betrayed. i have no friends.
|
|
|
|
everyone is so fucking fake. why can't i count on anyone? why can't i find
|
|
someone to lean on, just once? every time i try, every time i start to feel
|
|
confident about myself, someone has to come along and shatter it all.
|
|
|
|
i hate feeling like this. i wish i had people i could count on for once in
|
|
my life. i hate crying. i hate feeling this way about myself. i hate it.
|
|
it's over
|
|
|
|
|
|
October 1
|
|
|
|
i keep getting screwed over. i'm supposed to do this show. i make plans for
|
|
it. then i find out though the grapevine that i'm not going. my managers
|
|
couldn't even tell me. i have to ask and pester and bother in order to find
|
|
out what i'm doing.
|
|
|
|
then i'm not going. then four days before the show i find out that i am
|
|
going, it's back on. how am i supposed to prepare for this?
|
|
|
|
|
|
October 3
|
|
|
|
i really don't like tom. he doesn't understand that i just want a little
|
|
attention. he thinks i really like him. i couldn't like that. no, i just
|
|
want an ego boost if i can't have someone real.
|
|
|
|
|
|
October 4
|
|
|
|
i just want to feel like i'm alive again. i don't feel that way now, and i
|
|
don't know how to get that feeling back anymore. i was sitting in the hot tub
|
|
yesterday evening, and it put me in the best mood ever. i was in a good mood
|
|
all night until i realized that i wasn't going to be going out; then i just
|
|
went to sleep.
|
|
|
|
i like doing the shows, i guess. i like going to different towns for shows.
|
|
it was nice for a few hours to be in another city, high up in the air in my
|
|
hotel room, half dressed, thinking that i owned something. myself, maybe, or
|
|
maybe just some ideas. for a little while, i felt alive. i miss that. i
|
|
want to feel alive all the time. i want to feel alive.
|
|
|
|
|
|
October 11
|
|
|
|
i hate feeling lonely. i hate feeling alone. i can't believe a one of the
|
|
managers wanted to sleep with me last night. a part of me still doesn't want
|
|
to have to deal with it. i wouldn't want to date him if he was single because
|
|
not only do i work with him, but i also know what a woman watcher he is. it's
|
|
not as if i should think it was because i was special, though. i think it was
|
|
pretty much because i have breasts. what a joke. always me.
|
|
|
|
i didn't wait for tom to call me back yesterday, and he didn't. i thought at
|
|
least he would try to screw me. i didn't even get that effort.
|
|
|
|
and i'm sure todd won't ever want to call me back. i'm just sure of it.
|
|
and i'm sure jeff looks like a horror movie creature.
|
|
where is my soul mate?
|
|
|
|
maybe i have no soul. that's why i can find no one.
|
|
|
|
i think i should just start fucking everything that moves again. at least
|
|
then i had an ounce of physical satisfaction.
|
|
|
|
god, and i know my life is a self-fulfilling prophecy. the more depressed i
|
|
get, the more people don't want to be with me, and then the more depressed i
|
|
get.
|
|
|
|
why do i have
|
|
|
|
|
|
October 16
|
|
|
|
all of my true goals are destroyed by other people. i want someone to lean
|
|
on. i want someone who doesn't make me feel like shit. i want to achieve my
|
|
goals. i want to be successful. i want to be famous. i want to be rich. i
|
|
want to make everyone jealous and feel like they are worthless compared to
|
|
me. i want to feel like i am above everyone else.
|
|
|
|
everyone hates me. i am so worthless. i hate everyone. i am so worthless.
|
|
everyone hates me. i am so worthless. i hate everyone. i am so worthless.
|
|
everyone hates me. i am so worthless. i hate everyone. i am so worthless.
|
|
everyone hates me. i am so worthless. i hate everyone. i am so worthless.
|
|
everyone hates me. i am so worthless. i hate everyone. i am so worthless.
|
|
everyone hates me. i am so worthless. i hate everyone. i am so worthless.
|
|
everyone hates me. i am so worthless. i hate everyone. i am so worthless.
|
|
everyone hates me. i am so worthless. i hate everyone. i am so worthless.
|
|
|
|
people are such liars. i hate them all. why did i let myself get like this?
|
|
why did i let people do this to me? i've just destroyed my future musically
|
|
and it was all because of someone else. someone i thought i could count on.
|
|
someone who i thought loved me. someone who i thought would always love me.
|
|
i was wrong. i was terribly wrong. no one loves me. no one loves me at all.
|
|
i am not important. i am not important at all. i am worthless. i mean
|
|
nothing to no one. i am worthless. i could just drop off the face of the
|
|
earth and it would only matter to the people who had to prepare my remains for
|
|
the funeral. and to them it would only be another client in their day.
|
|
|
|
why do i have to be so alone? why do people have to be so fake? am i not
|
|
talented? am i not successful? am i not funny? am i not important?
|
|
if you're so funny... why are you on your own tonight?
|
|
|
|
i can't do anything. i can't sing. i can't perform. i'm useless. i'm
|
|
worthless. i'm nothing. i wish i could be something, but i am only nothing
|
|
and i will always be nothing.
|
|
|
|
i wish i could count on someone. i can count on no one. everyone who i
|
|
thought was important to me, well, i was not important to them. i hate being
|
|
nothing.
|
|
|
|
even the people who i thought would always love me, well, i should know
|
|
better, they don't care about me either. every single person who i thought
|
|
was a part of my life, well, i was wrong, s/he isn't. i mean nothing to them.
|
|
i always thought i did things to improve myself because i care about myself.
|
|
i was wrong. i still do things because i care about how other people think of
|
|
me. and i have failed.
|
|
|
|
i have no one. i have no talent. i have nothing - even in myself - to count
|
|
on. i have no one.
|
|
|
|
i feel so alone and i feel so incompetent. and i feel as if no one cares.
|
|
no one does.
|
|
|
|
|
|
October 18
|
|
|
|
life is so interesting sometimes. it's amazing how one conversation can
|
|
change my whole outlook on life. i need to be reminded sometimes of what i
|
|
am doing, of who i am, of what is deep down inside me. i have to be tested.
|
|
i don't know if i will ever get to sing - and be appreciated for it.
|
|
i don't know who i want to spend the rest of my life with. who they will be,
|
|
when it will be, anything.
|
|
|
|
it is almost nice.
|
|
|
|
here i am, in another country, sitting once again in some lounge with
|
|
absolutely no soul, drinking something. i figured i have $27 canadian, oh,
|
|
probably $30 with my dollar coins, that i won't be able to spend in the
|
|
states. i could go window shopping, but that would require motion; besides,
|
|
david might be trying to get ahold of me, and i don't know whether or not i
|
|
should wait for him.
|
|
|
|
never have enough time. when i do, i do the same things - drink and think
|
|
too much.
|
|
|
|
amaretto stone sours are particularly good.
|
|
|
|
and then i will get on the plane and... uh... mark will pick me up (yes, it
|
|
really did take me that long to think of his name).
|
|
|
|
david was laughing at how i throw men around. well, none of them are good
|
|
enough for me to keep.
|
|
|
|
show went okay tonight. i do like the travel. it makes me feel better for
|
|
some reason to be alone in another city than in my hometown.
|
|
|
|
|
|
October 20
|
|
|
|
why am i that worthless to you? am i that worthless to you? i guess i am,
|
|
since you treat me the way that you do.
|
|
|
|
i came here hoping to get out of my depression. you only succeeded in
|
|
sinking me deeper. i want to die.
|
|
|
|
you succeeded in your mission. i hope you're happy. now i know that everyone
|
|
hates me.
|
|
|
|
i can't do anything tonight. tonight was supposed to be the beginning of the
|
|
rest of my life. i was supposed to start anew. you've destroyed that for me.
|
|
|
|
you've used me, that's all you've done. you've succeeded in making me feel
|
|
even more worthless than i already did. are you happy? were you looking to
|
|
destroy me? probably not, you were probably not even thinking about me,
|
|
giving me a single thought in your head. that's how little i mean to people,
|
|
and i know it.
|
|
|
|
don't worry, i guess you're not the only one, but i think you were the straw
|
|
that broke the camel's back. i wanted to hear it from you because no one else
|
|
would tell it to me. but you didn't, either, and now i know the truth about
|
|
myself and what people think about me. i guess i should almost thank you for
|
|
showing me the light. it is a painful light, but it is the truth nonetheless.
|
|
i've always said i wanted the truth out of people, and now i guess i've got
|
|
it. no one cares for me. i am useless in this world. maybe i'll be more
|
|
useful in the next. what a fucking joke. if there were a next world.
|
|
|
|
when i die, i don't want any ceremonies done. i don't want to be filled with
|
|
any chemicals so my body can be displayed for people who claim to mourn; i
|
|
don't want to be a part of that modern-day ritual. i want to die, and i want
|
|
my body to decompose the way it normally would so that maybe at least my
|
|
remains may benefit nature somehow.
|
|
|
|
i feel like kurt cobain, except i've done nothing that would make me revered.
|
|
i've done nothing. no one appreciates what i've done in my life. i've
|
|
overcome so much, and it still isn't enough.
|
|
|
|
nothing ever works out for me. ever. i'm alone
|
|
|
|
|
|
October 22
|
|
|
|
my dreams are always just that, dreams. if i ever achieve anything, it is in
|
|
a half-ass way that proves that i really can't achieve my goals after all. i
|
|
feel so lonely. lonely even when i am in a crowded room. alone.
|
|
|
|
i want someone to know me and appreciate me for my talent. i want someone to
|
|
feel as if they can follow me just because of the work that i do. i want to
|
|
be accepted and appreciated in that realm. when that doesn't happen, i look
|
|
for someone that appreciates me in a physical sense. then i find them and i
|
|
realize that it is only temporary, that no one has any respect for me, that i
|
|
have still lost. that no one really cares about me. that i am nothing. that
|
|
i am worthless.
|
|
|
|
i wanted to think that you would always care for me. i should have known
|
|
better. i should have known you were just like all of the others, even after
|
|
all we have been through.
|
|
|
|
gone through? what the hell have we gone through? you followed me like a
|
|
puppy dog. you have a small penis. i don't know, i guess other than the
|
|
harrassment i felt from you after we broke up, after the bout with arthritis
|
|
after dating you again, you haven't brought me much. i want to think that i
|
|
have happy memories in my life, but i can't think of any. with you or with
|
|
anyone.
|
|
|
|
life will go on without me. i just wish a lot of the time that it would end
|
|
for me sooner than later.
|
|
|
|
i've always said that i know that i will always lead a long life because i
|
|
know that with my luck, i'll be forced to live this miserable life for the
|
|
longest time possible. what i've never said is that that notion really
|
|
depresses me. there are a lot of times when i just want to die. i just want
|
|
to disappear and never have to deal with anything - never even have to live -
|
|
again.
|
|
|
|
sometimes even breathing seems like a chore.
|
|
i wish i could feel alive
|
|
|
|
writing used to help me, but it doesn't seem to anymore.
|
|
i don't even feel like getting drunk now. usually that is my answer for
|
|
anything. i don't have the answers anymore.
|
|
|
|
|
|
October 23
|
|
|
|
when someone reads this, i will be gone. i want to die. no one loves me.
|
|
i am worthless. every time i tried to reach out to someone, he always failed
|
|
me.
|
|
|
|
i'm tired of being there for people when they are never there for me. i'm
|
|
tired of being strained, i'm tired of being pushed around, i'm tired. don't
|
|
you understand? i'm tired of crying. i'm tired of hating myself any more.
|
|
i'm never going to make anything of myself. no one will let me. let me die.
|
|
i haven't felt like this since my father beat me. now i should be stronger,
|
|
but i can't fight the whole world.
|
|
|
|
fuck my dreams. i can't achieve them. fuck the causes. fuck them all. i
|
|
can't beat everything in this whole world. i give up.
|
|
|
|
give me some pills.
|
|
wait. i have some.
|
|
|
|
soon it will be over for me. don't let the world remember me. i want to die
|
|
without a trace, the way i lived. i never found the answers.
|
|
|
|
why couldn't anyone love me? was i that difficult? why did everyone destroy
|
|
me? i can't fight you.
|
|
|
|
why aren't these pills working? i'm so tired.
|
|
|
|
by the time someone reads this, i will be dead. i will die crying. i will
|
|
die knowing no one cared.
|
|
|
|
i wish someone could have loved me, once.
|
|
|
|
þùúùþ
|
|
Janet Kuypers, Chicago, is the editor/publisher of the literary/art magazine
|
|
"children, churches and daddies". She has had two books published, _hope
|
|
chest in the attic_ and _the window_, is a graphic designer by day, and also
|
|
sings with a band.
|
|
|
|
Bio sketch:
|
|
Employment: Art/Production Editor for a publishing company in Chicago
|
|
Education: bachelor in News/Ed. Journalism (Communictions), with a minor in
|
|
photography, from the University of Illinois, Urbana/Champaign
|
|
Publication Credits: published over 600 for writing and over 150 for artwork.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
"What does 'selling out' mean, anyway? Most commonly, it refers to someone
|
|
who sacrifices her soul in order to make lots of money. I'd like to expand
|
|
the definition to include any act in which you trade authenticity for
|
|
popularity, any behavior in which you seek power or praise at the expense of
|
|
truth and heart." Ä Robb Brezsny
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Pebbles From Bricks
|
|
þ Max Raven
|
|
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúù
|
|
|
|
I toss pebbles from where I sit
|
|
on this black towering cliff.
|
|
I listen for the sound of the
|
|
ground catching up to the pebbles.
|
|
I listen for the sound of screaming
|
|
from the pebbles and wonder
|
|
if they know they are falling.
|
|
|
|
I fell once from one of the bricks,
|
|
silently embracing the chasm in my mind.
|
|
I never wanted to climb again
|
|
this taunting torturing mountain.
|
|
I never wanted to know the feeling
|
|
of flying out of fear of the
|
|
inevitable approaching ground.
|
|
|
|
And I sit on this cliff face
|
|
higher than I ever have been before.
|
|
My feet dangle off the edge although
|
|
I still fear falling into myself.
|
|
My feet dangle off the edge and I
|
|
know death's bony grin shall never
|
|
have its place at my dinner table again.
|
|
|
|
I have learned how to fly
|
|
away from damaging silky depths.
|
|
I have found an angel to teach me to
|
|
fly past the clouds, pagodas, and stars.
|
|
I have found an angel to show
|
|
different sides of all the walls
|
|
and to give the keys to my soul.
|
|
|
|
I sit, tossing pebbles.
|
|
I sit, throwing away pieces of me.
|
|
I sit, forgetting the bad of me.
|
|
I sit, living the good of me.
|
|
Through the windows of the universe
|
|
the angel comes to break away the wall.
|
|
I stand above the crumbling bricks,
|
|
hold my angel's hand,
|
|
and fly.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Sores
|
|
þ Gena Schwam
|
|
ùúùúùúùúùúùúù
|
|
|
|
soft grapes
|
|
lying in the sun
|
|
dying
|
|
the mold of wet
|
|
makes sores
|
|
the skin
|
|
once purple
|
|
now yellow
|
|
a seed
|
|
sores like vermin infest
|
|
|
|
my thoughts
|
|
my brain an insipid mess
|
|
reeling from nights
|
|
of heavy bodies
|
|
legs and lips locked
|
|
tongues
|
|
sore
|
|
like the flame of a forgotten fire
|
|
blue and white
|
|
needling points
|
|
individuals
|
|
thoughts carved scraped
|
|
from my flesh
|
|
and you gouge me
|
|
there are scars
|
|
love bites
|
|
welts
|
|
sores open and crying like
|
|
|
|
gulls shading me
|
|
from the garish moon
|
|
a harelip smile
|
|
the gulls fly through the clouds
|
|
dipping into the
|
|
warm sea
|
|
salty and festering
|
|
a giant swelling
|
|
sore
|
|
fish in their beaks
|
|
blood falling
|
|
landing amidst the sand
|
|
no one will ever know
|
|
the pain
|
|
the agony
|
|
rendered here
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
"Bless my body, bless my sore; dip it in turpentine..." Ä Courtney Love
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Sugar Coma
|
|
þ Courtney Love
|
|
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúù
|
|
|
|
Do what you want
|
|
Cause I'll do anything
|
|
I'll take the blame
|
|
Baby, you're dying
|
|
It's yours, it's mine
|
|
'Cause I'll do anything
|
|
I'll take the blame even when you're dying
|
|
He said I'll never never ever go away
|
|
He said he'd always always, he would always stay
|
|
They said they'd never never ever go away
|
|
They said that they would always always, they would always stay
|
|
|
|
And your eyes
|
|
I thought I saw everything
|
|
I'll take the blame
|
|
Baby, you're lying
|
|
Do what you want
|
|
'Cause I tried everything
|
|
I'll take the blame even when I'm dying
|
|
He said I'll never never ever go away
|
|
He said he'd always always, he would always stay
|
|
They said they'd never ever ever go away
|
|
They said that they would always always they would always stay
|
|
|
|
He was good tonight
|
|
He cried tonight
|
|
I was not surprised
|
|
He said I'll never ever ever go away
|
|
He'd said he'd always always he would always stay
|
|
He said he'd never ever ever go away
|
|
He said he's always always, he would always stay
|
|
Baby you wanted to die
|
|
Now you decide
|
|
Help me alive
|
|
Let him make rise
|
|
Baby, all your lies
|
|
Now you decide
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
"Although Courtney would later describe her band's sound as 'angry vagina
|
|
music,' she has consistently denied that the name refers to the female
|
|
genitalia. According to her, the idea for the name goes back to the
|
|
classics. There is a section in Euripedes' _Medea_ where the female
|
|
protagonist describes a hole going directly through to her soul. 'It's
|
|
about the abyss inside,' she has always insisted, though like the author
|
|
character in Dennis Potter's _Blackeyes_ who wrote a novel called _Black
|
|
Bush_ and sold volumes of volumes on the sexual innuendo of the title,
|
|
Courtney had definitely realized how the name could be misconstrued to her
|
|
advantage." Ä Olaf Tyaransen
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Sunset
|
|
þ Russ Costa
|
|
ùúùúùúùúùúùú
|
|
|
|
My tears should fall on the page
|
|
but there don't seem to be any.
|
|
they have all left me you see.
|
|
they left soon after your final words and my last glimmer of hope.
|
|
but that was then, and although I still think of you,
|
|
from time to time...
|
|
it is different now.
|
|
|
|
The sun has risen before me.
|
|
I feel its warmth and light upon me now.
|
|
It has been rising, I'm sure, the whole time you've been gone.
|
|
but it's amazing how blinding pain can be.
|
|
|
|
The sun has risen before me.
|
|
it shines the light of tomorrow and
|
|
finally I can see beyond today,
|
|
beyond sorrow,
|
|
beyond
|
|
you.
|
|
|
|
The sun has risen before me.
|
|
and today I will revel in it.
|
|
I will let myself be happy about life,
|
|
my existence,
|
|
myself.
|
|
|
|
and as it sets I will look back at it
|
|
and admire it
|
|
and know I have no regrets
|
|
for you were you and I was myself
|
|
for that I can not mourn.
|
|
I can just look back and admire the beautiful glow of the sunset of our love.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
"For every ray of sunshine, there's a shadow lurking." Ä "V.C. Andrews"
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Sweet Masochism
|
|
þ Jeff Stack
|
|
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúù
|
|
|
|
Whip me beat me chain me
|
|
make me miss you more
|
|
ahhh... sweet masochism
|
|
|
|
Each night we talk on the phone
|
|
and through the wire I feel
|
|
the beating of your heart
|
|
the quavering of your voice
|
|
your want and wanton desire
|
|
thrill me
|
|
kill me
|
|
|
|
Put me in a rubber room here I go again
|
|
thrashing wildly beating slamming
|
|
myself into the cold hard you-less walls
|
|
like a dancer or a mime
|
|
trapped in an intangible box
|
|
|
|
It's heaven to have you here
|
|
my stunning, strident, glowing angel
|
|
But through these years I've grown
|
|
accustomed to the pain of missing you
|
|
I think I'm starting to like it.
|
|
So whip me beat me chain me, baby
|
|
make me miss you more.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
The End
|
|
þ Teufel Hunden
|
|
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúù
|
|
|
|
A broken bird lies on the beach.
|
|
|
|
"I hate you", she said.
|
|
|
|
Feebly flapping, useless wing twisted.
|
|
|
|
This is the end, all is finished.
|
|
|
|
Pitifully screaming, mutely crying to the waves for mercy.
|
|
|
|
I sit in a darkened room and think of my loss,
|
|
Think of the days together, now gone.
|
|
The smell of her hair, the feel of her skin,
|
|
The warmth of her body, no longer mine to hold.
|
|
|
|
The waves advance, tantilizing, closer.
|
|
The bird struggles, its efforts weaken.
|
|
Life waning as the tide waxes.
|
|
|
|
A rope in hand, I tie a knot.
|
|
|
|
The struggles fade, and finally cease.
|
|
A beak opens for one final cry of defiance,
|
|
Never to shut again.
|
|
An eye that knew the heavens stares on them blankly.
|
|
All is Finished.
|
|
|
|
The Noose is made.
|
|
The Rope is hung.
|
|
All is Finished.
|
|
|
|
The broken bird spreads its wings.
|
|
And Sails Out To Sea.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
The Next Time
|
|
þ Colby C. Enck
|
|
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúù
|
|
|
|
The next time
|
|
I have you over to my room
|
|
As I stumble into your eyes
|
|
My heart will stop
|
|
My mind will cease
|
|
Burying my hands in your hair
|
|
Bending to kiss
|
|
I will be reborn
|
|
|
|
The moment will pass
|
|
Fears will return in strength
|
|
With sounds and movements bathed in blue light
|
|
The doubts will be slain
|
|
And with sapphire whispers
|
|
I will love you
|
|
|
|
There would be a first time
|
|
Before the next time
|
|
I think to you
|
|
Gazing at your hair which I so long to touch
|
|
And your presence I so long to know
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
The Sky Is Falling
|
|
þ Twilight
|
|
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùú
|
|
|
|
Amidst the cold and pelting rain
|
|
I reached out -
|
|
I found a hand to grasp
|
|
Of warmth and guidance
|
|
My first-found companion
|
|
In such a stone-grey foreign land
|
|
|
|
Beneath the shining sun
|
|
I reached out -
|
|
I found a friendly smile
|
|
Of comfort and good cheer
|
|
A dependable leader and mentor
|
|
There if I ever needed one
|
|
|
|
Enclosed by a darkening presence
|
|
I reached out -
|
|
I found my hand grasping a gaping hole
|
|
Oozing nothingness from between my fingers
|
|
|
|
Stumbling furiously,
|
|
I reached out -
|
|
And you were gone
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
The Spider
|
|
þ Benjamin Cushman
|
|
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùú
|
|
|
|
You said a spider stayed the night
|
|
And slept beneath your sheets -
|
|
Explored your skin on tiny legs
|
|
That tickled, soft as sin.
|
|
|
|
You said the spider bit you,
|
|
So softly, as you slept -
|
|
Touched you, as a lover does,
|
|
And left its venom in.
|
|
|
|
You said you let the spider in
|
|
Thinking it was me -
|
|
Me crawling there on tiny legs;
|
|
I wish I was so small.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Things You Didn't Do
|
|
þ Anonymous
|
|
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùú
|
|
|
|
Remember the day I borrowed your brand-new car and I dented it?
|
|
I thought you'd kill me, but you didn't.
|
|
And remember the the time I dragged you to the beach, and you said it would
|
|
rain, and it did?
|
|
I thought you'd say, "I told you so." But you didn't.
|
|
Do you remember the time I flirted with all the guys to make you jealous, and
|
|
you were?
|
|
I thought you'd leave me, but you didn't.
|
|
Do you remember the time I spilled strawberry pie all over your car rug?
|
|
I thought you'd hit me, but you didn't.
|
|
And remember the time I forgot to tell you the dance was formal and you showed
|
|
up in jeans?
|
|
I thought you'd drop me, but you didn't.
|
|
Yes, there were lots of things you didn't do.
|
|
But you put up with me, and you loved me, and you protected me.
|
|
There were lots of things I wanted to make up to you when you returned from
|
|
Vietnam.
|
|
But you didn't...
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Tonight, Tonight
|
|
þ Billy Corgan
|
|
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùú
|
|
|
|
time is never time at all
|
|
you can never ever leave without leaving a piece of youth
|
|
and our lives are forever changed
|
|
we will never be the same
|
|
the more you change, the less you feel
|
|
believe, believe in me, believe
|
|
that life can change, that you're not stuck in vain
|
|
we're not the same, we're different tonight
|
|
tonight, so bright
|
|
tonight
|
|
and you know you're never sure
|
|
but you're sure you could be right
|
|
if you held yourself up to the light
|
|
and the embers never fade in your city by the lake
|
|
the place where you were born
|
|
believe, believe in me, believe
|
|
in the resolute urgency of now
|
|
and if you believe there's not a chance tonight
|
|
tonight, so bright
|
|
tonight
|
|
we'll crucify the insincere tonight
|
|
we'll make things right, we'll feel it all tonight
|
|
we'll find a way to offer up the night otnight
|
|
the indescribable moments of your life tonight
|
|
the impossible is possible tonight
|
|
believe in me as i believe in you, tonight
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
"Seize the fucking time." Ä Robb Brezsny
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Untitled
|
|
þ Gena Schwam
|
|
ùúùúùúùúùúùúù
|
|
|
|
A scourge,
|
|
|
|
your tongue stabs into
|
|
me like a mallet
|
|
a soft hot wedge
|
|
molten love
|
|
covering me in ethereal
|
|
dreams of blue mountains
|
|
sliding rows of clouds
|
|
up in the sky
|
|
groves of autumn trees
|
|
i am splayed out
|
|
wicked little needles
|
|
crawling over my skin
|
|
your hot fingers
|
|
spark-starters
|
|
fever-inducers
|
|
|
|
so you have me
|
|
the certainty is
|
|
clear
|
|
laid out in glass
|
|
cases
|
|
my love
|
|
on display
|
|
an open wound
|
|
trembling like a rabbit
|
|
|
|
i am the innocent
|
|
doe
|
|
My eyes are crystals
|
|
staring back at you
|
|
heart thumping like a
|
|
hammer
|
|
|
|
smash the glass
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Allison to Claire: "It's kind of a double-edged sword, isn't it?"
|
|
Claire to Allison (sneering): "What?"
|
|
Allison to Claire: "Well, if you say you haven't, you're a prude. If you
|
|
say you have, you're a slut. It's a trap... Or are you
|
|
a tease?"
|
|
Ä _The Breakfast Club_
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Wanting
|
|
þ Jeff Woods
|
|
ùúùúùúùúùúùú
|
|
|
|
I want
|
|
to not want anything
|
|
air bubbles bursting inside my sullen leaves
|
|
as i press myself
|
|
face first
|
|
beneath this grass
|
|
|
|
I want
|
|
to climb up and out of this
|
|
but i find my fingers clenched
|
|
roots holding me tightly down
|
|
leaving my head to bang against this ceiling of soft damp soil
|
|
|
|
I want
|
|
to jump into those clouds
|
|
with leaves of ruffled feathers
|
|
limbs like outstretched wings
|
|
but i just can't seem to climb
|
|
above this grass
|
|
|
|
everytime i peek up at you
|
|
everytime the yearning drives me to lift my head
|
|
i fear all that sound
|
|
like the sky is about to fall
|
|
and i dig back in
|
|
deeper still
|
|
|
|
staring wide-eyed
|
|
at the thick air of my burrow
|
|
wrapping myself in silk
|
|
i wait to emerge
|
|
|
|
my mind
|
|
becomes a flurry of butterfly wings
|
|
fluttering
|
|
against the inside
|
|
of my eyes.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Waterfalls
|
|
þ TLC
|
|
ùúùúùúùúùú
|
|
|
|
a lonley mother gazing out of her window
|
|
staring at a son that she just can't touch
|
|
if at any time he's in a jam
|
|
she'll be by his side
|
|
but he doesn't realize he hurts her so much
|
|
but all the praying
|
|
just ain't helping at all
|
|
'cause he can't seem to keep himself out of trouble
|
|
so he goes out and makes money the best way he knows how
|
|
another body laying cold in the gutter
|
|
listen to me
|
|
|
|
don't go chasing waterfalls
|
|
please stick to the rivers and the lakes
|
|
that you're used to
|
|
i know that you're gonna have it your way
|
|
or nothing at all
|
|
but i think you're moving too fast...
|
|
|
|
little precious has a natural obsession
|
|
for temptation, but he just can't see
|
|
she gives him loving that his body can't handle
|
|
but all he can say is baby is good to me
|
|
one day he goes and takes a glimpse in the mirror
|
|
but he doesn't recognize his own face
|
|
his health is fading and he doesn't know why
|
|
three letters took him to his final resting place
|
|
y'all don't hear me
|
|
|
|
don't go chasing waterfalls
|
|
please stick to the rivers and the lakes
|
|
that you're used to
|
|
i know that you're gonna have it your way
|
|
or nothing at all
|
|
but i think you're moving too fast...
|
|
|
|
i've seen a rainbow yesterday
|
|
but too many storms have come and gone
|
|
leaving a trace of not one god-given ray
|
|
is it because my life is ten shades of gray
|
|
i pray all ten fade away
|
|
seldom praise him for the sunny days
|
|
and like his promise is true
|
|
only my faith can undo
|
|
the many chances i blew
|
|
to bring my life to anew
|
|
clear blue and unconditional skies
|
|
have dried the tears from my eyes
|
|
no more lonely cries
|
|
my only bleeding hope
|
|
is for the folk who can't cope
|
|
with such an enduring pain
|
|
that it keeps them in the pouring rain
|
|
who's to blame
|
|
for tooling 'caine in your own vein
|
|
what a shame
|
|
you claim the insane
|
|
|
|
and name this day in time
|
|
for falling prey to crime
|
|
i say the system's got you victim
|
|
to your own mind
|
|
dreams are hopeless aspirations
|
|
in hopes of coming true
|
|
believe in yourself
|
|
the rest is up to me and you...
|
|
|
|
don't go chasing waterfalls
|
|
please stick to the rivers and the lakes
|
|
that you're used to
|
|
i know that you're gonna have it your way
|
|
or nothing at all
|
|
but i think you're moving too fast...
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
We Can Still Be Friends
|
|
þ Rude or Obscene
|
|
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúù
|
|
|
|
The sunset's not the color
|
|
That it used to be
|
|
The fish are more exotic
|
|
Swimming in your sea
|
|
And now there's little room
|
|
For a perch,
|
|
Or carp,
|
|
Or me
|
|
|
|
Heaven seems even darker now
|
|
My sardonic smile yields to a frown
|
|
Somehow I knew you'd tire of me
|
|
I should have known
|
|
That I wasn't
|
|
What you wanted me to be.
|
|
|
|
I agree
|
|
You've changed
|
|
I can see it in your eyes
|
|
And now you cannot hear me
|
|
Regardless of my cries
|
|
|
|
But our paths must cross this one last time
|
|
My love for you drives me to this crime
|
|
A tool of darkness in my hand
|
|
I'll spill your blood upon this sand
|
|
|
|
No, I don't want to know
|
|
And I don't want to see
|
|
Where you think you're going to go
|
|
Or what you've planned for me
|
|
|
|
I don't give a damn
|
|
I'm certainly not afraid
|
|
That they'll know who I am
|
|
For tonight you'll not be saved
|
|
|
|
Ah!
|
|
A bloodcurdling scream!
|
|
It's almost over now...
|
|
A brilliant red stream
|
|
Oozing from your brow
|
|
|
|
But should I stab you again?
|
|
The bleeding seems so slow...
|
|
Yes! You must bleed quickly!
|
|
For soon I'll need to go...
|
|
|
|
The remnants of a lover
|
|
Imprisoned in my foe
|
|
Now both will understand
|
|
Just how far I will go.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
"Women are not encouraged to scream 'Fuck you' and mean it. As someone who
|
|
rarely blasts music for the pure pleasure of it, I had forgotten what a
|
|
release it is to let music thrash through your system. To scream *real
|
|
loud*, backed up by electric guitars and a kick-ass drummer. To feel the
|
|
power of a rock star." Ä Elyse Singer, regarding Hole
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Where You Are Not
|
|
þ Michael McNeilley
|
|
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúù
|
|
|
|
waiting here just past dawn
|
|
perfect grey light through the northeast window
|
|
I visualize you in the chair
|
|
I know you would choose
|
|
reclining with one leg stretched out
|
|
one pulled up back arched
|
|
hair flowing over the paisley print
|
|
and I imagine you there by
|
|
defining the space where you are not
|
|
seeing you surrounded by negative space
|
|
drawing you in the space that would
|
|
encompass you if you were here
|
|
the lights in your hair defined by threads
|
|
of shadow the smell of you here in
|
|
a palpable absence in chill air
|
|
but it is too cold in the room
|
|
where you are not
|
|
and I move to warm myself again
|
|
but closing the window lets you out
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
You'll See
|
|
þ Madonna
|
|
ùúùúùúùúùú
|
|
|
|
You think that I can't live without your love
|
|
You'll see,
|
|
You think I can't go on another day
|
|
You think I have nothing
|
|
Without you by my side,
|
|
You'll see
|
|
Somehow, some way
|
|
You think that I can never laugh again
|
|
You'll see,
|
|
You think that you destroyed my faith in love
|
|
You think after all you've done
|
|
I'll never find my way back home,
|
|
You'll see
|
|
Somehow, someday
|
|
|
|
All by myself
|
|
I don't need anyone at all
|
|
I know I'll survive
|
|
I know I'll stay alive,
|
|
All on my own
|
|
I know I'll stay alive,
|
|
All on my own
|
|
I don't need anyone this time
|
|
It will be mine
|
|
No one can take it from me
|
|
You'll see
|
|
|
|
You think that you are strong, but you are weak
|
|
You'll see,
|
|
It takes more strength to cry, admit defeat
|
|
I have truth on my side,
|
|
You only have deceit
|
|
You'll see, somehow, someday
|
|
|
|
All by myself
|
|
I don't need anyone at all
|
|
I know I'll survive
|
|
I know I'll stay alive,
|
|
I'll stand on my own
|
|
I won't need anyone this time
|
|
It will be mine
|
|
No one can take it from me
|
|
You'll see
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
"What doesn't kill me makes me stronger." Ä Anthrax
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
ßÜ
|
|
ÜßÜÝÜßÜ
|
|
ßÜÞÜß Ü Ü Üß
|
|
Ü ÜßÜ ÝÜßÜß ÜßÜßÜ
|
|
ßÜßÜ ÜßÜßÞÜß ÜßÜ Ü ßÜÜßÜß
|
|
ßÜßÜÜß Ü ßÜßÜÝÜßÜß ÜßÜ ßÜ ßÜ ß
|
|
ßÜßÜß Üß Ü Ü ßÜÝÜß Üß ÜßÜ ßÜÜßÜßÜ
|
|
Üßßß Üß Û Ü ÜßßÜÞ ÜßÜß Ü ßÜßÜÜ ßÜß
|
|
Üß ßÜÜß Üß Ü ßßÜßÝßÜß ÜÜ ßÜßßÜ ß
|
|
Üß ÜßßÜÜß ÜßßÜ ßÝß ÜßÜ ßÜßßÜ ß
|
|
Üß ÜßßßÝÜß ÜÜßÜÞÜßÜß ÛÞßßÜ ß
|
|
ß ÜÜßÜßÜß ÜßÜÞÜß ÜßÜÝßÜÜß
|
|
Ü Üßßßß ßÜßÝÜßÜÜßÜß Ü Ü
|
|
Ü Ü ßÜ ßÜ ßÜßßßÜÜßÝÜÛßÜßÜÜß Üß Üß Üß
|
|
Ü ßÜßÜ ßÜÜßÜßÜßÜßÜßÜÜÛÛÛÜßßÜßÜßÜßßßÜÜß ÜßÜß
|
|
ßÜßÜßÜßÜßßÜ ßÜ ßÜßÜß ß Ý ß ßÜ ßÜßÜ ßÜßÜßÜßßÜ
|
|
ÜßßÜßÜ ßÜßÜ ßÜ ß Þ ß ß ß ß ß
|
|
Ý
|
|
Ý
|
|
Þ
|
|
ß ùtwiù
|
|
|
|
Legalize.
|
|
|
|
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúù
|
|
Submit your original literary works for Spilled Ink, [volume eight], to
|
|
Twilight via Internet e-mail:
|
|
twilight@mail.utexas.edu
|
|
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúù
|