M1 Garand .30 cal, .45 pistol; M1A1 Thompson variation walked in to the helpless, blue windows of yesterday. How out of our minds; diligently blackbirds learn to see, so they don’t hit the glass. Important Queens and Kings of Dormant state walls probably knew this was coming, these dry eyes seem too infectious when the kids’ in the cradle today. It is a normal feeling for the elderly to feel left behind; however, some thought hired dependents and independents only knocked on the door for their first chance, slightly caught a hand or foot in at the last second, or saved their mercy for the Lords Love Above;Amen, “Hallelujah; Leonard Cohen” , (The Original) if you’d like. At six o’clock a.m . . . It is hard for them to see that in their own place twenty and more children come through big gates; perhaps, being replaced. Allowing them to seek youth guidance so that they know something about the ages of speed metal, kinky love
(with protective rights); betrayal, a scene unkind unless so before their time. More so, the fact some could and cannot survive beastly records of ignored soldiers and a Globe in petrified, turmoil almost frozen in time; the last evoking, evolving game scene decided intolerably to let it go. Still the strong help us.

Proudly practitioners and dental associates make a working with the help of another babe. I am sorry that all by your self, you and anyone won’t be used up right away- not to be crude or sue you in any fashion. We will be washed, dried and set away ;perhaps, dry cleaned for some special day. Drink; DRINK again. Home is here what I felt…. Still feeling.
Keep it all for the “Children of the Grave” are in their fifties, I am as we all are and may very well could certainly be- when it comes to the dues, don’t think I would have to die at their sides in this age and time even if that was all they asked me to. If it were not for some of them, the hurt and happiness would have nothing to say; hurt and happiness is on record to shame the darkness, with only some shade as a global empathy taxation in a semi-mortal zoo. Waking up in the morning feeling like you can live again. Dysnomy: the art of getting out of bed; having a Hell of a time doing it. Besides….
Quick rocking might be my sign of bad habits and health, I am who I am and I can see dwellers but lifers. Always reminding me of some lyrics from “Stone the Crow; Down”, “I never died before.”
The credit one person will always have because of another, being directed properly but undirected as well. Feeling like you’ve never really heard or understood anything , until “Planet Caravan ; Black Sabbath” – that is. Points and gentlemen like accord were the inspiration of taking away feelings; manifest in to that which you, the environment, the planet; so many would need and use, that is till’ stolen and tagged the “Crime of the Century; Supertramp”. Relations with John Lennon and Lemmy Kilmister’s mother. Is all she wrote.

Vacuum salesmen all over twentieth century stare cases declared, ” I am stepping on flaky, glass. Retina’s?! I can’t even taste the sight of these damned things! Dinosaur names approaching fore quandaries like it is and for-ever will be the same, nothing will change because it was not for them. Slide, misconceptions happen to every one but when you vent the epiphany toward the powerless and save the mind of millions in days. Arise and be awake!”
Right the corner, go back up the shiet street and take a left. The rated wars, old men of a dissection in a lab made out of methane, are separated by an invisible line of thought: doing what you think is “right” and acting when you’re told. This keeps them from the well of knowledge wise lived, old; new. So some of the old men stay because they really are feasible patriots always unpacking their hearts with the malfeasance of their loins reaping the Chesterfield of horrible childhood memories, being seen through a film. Aristotle in the scenes, where many flocked over:”Pink Floyd The Wall”. Engaged are the new and old men with sensing patriots always igniting a war with out even having to try.

Past developments have been rusted to those done sharing and for me it does the new prick yet the opposite of the stabbing of a thousand fine needles. Fine, I told my self, fairly they would start to break the ruby-red rose drippings and the daisies on your bed. How the uncertainty of taking away someones land, which is even a bar with some chairs; perhaps a keg, would screw up anyone even drafted to be taken away. Total and complete rage pondered and poured out to the cool, worked up who, could only hope when their own Government would be getting round and paid. It hit them in the past in nine teen seventy, I believe the National Guard could have saved me; if I were in the middle of a Dodger game with streaks of fame, I would sure be fresh meat. Proudly, pounded; smuthered and made lean. That was their intention going to Kent, turn the students down.

My dead Grandma would be proud that I would venture out, somehow and find my only way. Never Called Me A Communist. Always loved me yet never was around. I partake in my share of population control, enough not to get too far in to anything that deep right now; make sure I never leave this peaceful mess to Children of War, I will always feel like a baby killer but a baby not killed anymore. I know what to do in my life and when I take the side that some call “dirty” maybe just to cradle our inevitability of just how pure; lonesome streets are, I find it inevitable and messy as some would put it- to ignore. Tested on with the signs of no doubt young, well rounded women and men that tote around posters of abortions, almost seeing myself as having been the baby who should’ve been dead. Under aged sex; whoa on me man; shame; THE HORROR. Embellished melody, their memory of a better time. Love Generations of misunderstood and beaten down souls for always just feeling the burn, knocking on wood; birthing the parents out of their own stride, who abolished waves of freedom slipping our encouraged almost a “nothing” pride.. We had never turned our backs on them but some times, “We Sold Our Soul For Rock N’ Roll”. Our price is shining to ever green pastures where grazing folds of living corpses listen. The effervescence of our cries; help us along or surely just die. Entrapment to some we can help gently point them back to their hearts where they knew all along it was life birthing death- when it is paranoid death beating on. Abortion oh murder is not your name, please take it to the man that they be used to cure mental plagues. Grow me a brain, or a wonderful way of eating or sacrificing the dead as some may put it.

Atleast we could have it that we populate our Globe and cherish each mind with out having to shoot those eyes bewildered by the automatic suicide calling blue , true , bow down society. I won’t take part in thinking children are the world and neither m I, it seems all like one big mistake to even be alive…. But here’s to not wasting what’s left of the ecosystem- we are dirt under beautiful fingernails and the sweat of a brow. Abandonment in every way to our own instinct and natural pattern we need to be lead away, when left with this pack we don’t need sacrificial offerings of betrayed land-use and open quarters layed up for one reason that’s neither cut or shown.

So these ways of commuting to and from this place, the paper I use; the words I say, I will have to use till the “old” go away and new magic like radical methods make a shout. I am not a criminal. “No Good(Attack the Radical); Pantera”. I will no doubt live, who knows when one human faces the glimpse of death- it happens to the best of us. Either way the older you are the harder you will have to work, Hell make your words worth a God Damn in this world – to the people who want them the most. THEY REALLY ARE COUNTING ON YOU. Those old farts that take our hearts, they just want the best to fit in and get it right (How many times has age been the answer? Let alone here the time is always now). We told them We love them. Volunteering at the hospital and called in to automatically be God and commonly fight the intrepid last thoughts of an old man in his death bed, give him a smile; to sing him a song , hold his hand; even kiss his head and leave him happy, so he can leave in a better state(Dear God For Anyone). I can see it, the movement of discouraged Doles and Abraham’s finding their house in a health facility, seeing where a known loved woman use to be- the eyes of many others – wanting out but hoping we don’t hold it against them, “that our parents couldn’t figure it out”. Forgiveness, acceptance alabaster to laughter.

It was tough for them and easier for us, pointing the dealer has faults. There once was such a time with no rights, amazing things like sparse cola products were never even heard of, many people were better dead; given treacherous ancients long ago, always have had a cock hold on the door to exit this whore. All the things that they owned who knows where they go but they left us better room in a land we knew fuck all about. So some sneek inside and cripple the stems of life set to burden, yet harden and soften the sleeping corpses and awakened souls then they take off seemingly out of the wind, never to have left a single instance of answer. Impacting millions while blowing away their lives. It meant hats were worn just to be like thwarted missiles; those were going in while going out of every good, moralistic pleasure. It seems, all too fast to say; I’m going out with a memory but I want right back in, for good.

Posted by Mary-Lee Parks - 28/08/11 - 0 comments


Personal particular persons in the wallows creating delusion set out to be dreary; minds moving. I always find dragging myself through some thoughts over and over in my head, investigating the system of people and regulators leaving me at a picture perfect scene of a million unanswered questions, always trying to see what the message in these global actions are. Need it be any more obvious, when we fall apart. Pieces of the concrete jungle dropping down, they had just been put up; this is a normal occurrence, in a very auspicious dated time. Bringing back your shoulders to talk to others, to have the point that cannot be summed up to a few words; butchered to a slant, by those who could never feel out-loud my insanity and I theirs. I feel that loathing doesn’t come to me as some one and some thing I can stand. Slipping in torturous bits of fact when you least expect it. This doesn’t happen to be and it won’t. How will you know if you don’t try. Dealing SHIFTS outraging the press accusations. Don’t ever turn back. We will always know true existence whether we are prone to our bad side or not, on looking does not matter; live again with out mistake and on and on apparently so.
Rights are internationally skewered. Lies are frowned on, people are destroyed; someone so angry falls in a trade and perhaps some one got shot.

As I write the grim reality that follows you should know that, as an American citizen trapped; in a Harper’s n’ Friends Land Referendum Legislations’ Associates and Employees body I should BE USE TO being forced to live life not feelin’ the tight grooves in all these attractions waiting for us, that a coming thrust to our intense need to know; the blending of boarders blown up to make us into THE super state would be good put to a certain context of light hearted, distant goals.
Not only that and the separation of every class to each race which has become some what intolerable but has embraced others to come together. I would believe in the kindness of the man who made a step forward for so many youngsters who felt , being understood under the justice system as no hardened criminal; for a joint, is right. Jack Layton YOU WILL BE VERY MISSED. I am just so happy you helped make a change- you say us youth inspire you – YOU TRULY INSPIRE US TOO! Make a note, no stone will be left behind.

6:29 am 03/10/2011
Witt filled and righteous, my nights do get louder in silence ; wealthy in the cold , in that I still feel old-with out being persuaded in to insecure singing . Please tell me if I’m too loud, for not a word to say very rude; sounds of movement on the floor, my back is to the wall. Still I know you can be willing to hold my hand. Pull away while you beam together but there’s more. I thank GOD for “BIG EYED BEANS FROM VENUS ; Captain Beefheart and His Magic Band”. My back is sore. I reside with myself to begin years ago , yet I and the whole Planet have hardly started on the right track. I prowl feeling the life of another is never taken out of “it”. The religious may have a very good point when they say my dead Grandma is watching me when I masturbate. I could just grab the intensity in the pleasure that coincides with the automobile, crude-oil; the silence in my room, the noise I make in “Whiskey Heaven”. Sickening , you use to be something that I oughtta’ think I would see around and I do; perhaps while I decay these contributions hail us further with out our saying still , I found out a long time ago it is not about the people who are even just around. Ya’ , find it in your deepest thoughts when you think of sleep. Just like the news-reporters being awkward and told just what to think.
I do not want to wake up my room-mate, my lesbian-brat bride; it is very hard to fake and take the real and cover up my and anyone’s own work they shall but cannot help but feel afraid for it’s other things that would awake. Crows and the raven become me in the damned early hours of the morn’ to be seized. Being called stupid for common mistakes in the world that some people choose just not to see , in place of how everything is made. Intelligence is greater than pretentiousness. (Some things don’t need to be seen). I sometimes am more fortunate than when I know , some certain skills but can show humility to those who actually lived; before me and begot the uncertainty , albino to me; Hell grown men make mistakes, covering it up just won’t fill that residue of metamorphosis that beknotted person began. Stealing persona’s and theories does not either. Treasure apologies to be wavered. This applies for both of those fellow men that you would rather think about oh so different or, on completely rivaled sides. Both places can be taken through elaborated ties, marking no end in sight.

4:29 pm 07/10/2011
About time, I know that when this life seems clear often people come out of nowhere and just happen when you least expect or want them. Maybe two hours later , my old dog was hit by a stereotype. Her back right leg was taken but not the family. Thank so many moments of peaking over the right death of past cats I use to know in a time of feeling when obvious prices take a swipe. Just like some men and women I do find happy – when do you expect a mean meal of pain?
Noted Steve Jobs Golden Apple man Died leaving no chance of survival for an already distant Mac operating, and Mac Donald’s eating cesspool of wailing Jimmy’s that did eat away at his very soul and I suppose that cancer, too. He will always be sweating it down here. For the mean time.

1:03 pm 08/10/2011
Everything is a sedimentary substance. We are solid but within us is not just rock or bone. It smells of stage and steer in here. Now I would hope that all of this is not made up of, sheering show and mostly softened intentions. Ripe they are these vibrant wads of cash that Brillo can’t ever scrub away. You know the feeling of being hungry , afraid and disconnected. Watching in the mind of the television how many die. Never mind this senseless vacancy in my stomach. Living is all there is. Pole’s are made for dancing and so this tree will do the trick. Please wouldn’t ya’ just wait to leave? Stop taking away the life that I see. I AM NOT DUMB. You are gone now, and I know there was everything I could do. Still I can breathe this sign of pages. You and your light still needs the sun. Knowing that we do it or we don’t. Life get’s better then worse, if you would like it like that. Then some time you go figure keeping this hidden would be the way? I wouldn’t answer that question unless I had incriminating evidence. I really could stand up to the rules and obvious last statements, maybe for the rest of my life; always just a bit harder , when you get more tired. You break the iron cascade in benefits of the richer for the demons fucking at their own. Communism is the pile of heat the radars keep speaking of with socialist – republican sheep bleating on “Where’s OURS, WHERE’S OURS!??” Enough to keep me from ripping every single pet from a child’s hands and teaching them the meaning of disregard. Followed by photos of shattered dog noses PETA vigilantes share; who scare the shit out of me. I was arrested on our Wall Street and framed a knot in my belly over the tragic past of this beautiful theater , that shows me nothing (not saying it ever did!) anymore because of a dumping ground for wasted taints and blood called the ATB financial following. Yes usurpers of the Mega Giant Hell Hold unite and argue with your local bank teller. Tell them everything about withheld taxes ….. Just know there is greater evil where you cannot see. I would owe myself twenty dollars , too ; not knowing I am what I am , even what you are ; being nailed to a 1.5 billion dollar crucifix, awaiting sweet death real in the formation of crawling anger that shoves. It has shown there is no Wall Street March but a worldwide hunger for displayed information, so having clueless martyrs in the world will only be a symptom of aristocratic slime and proudly puffed joggers.

Revolutions were began in pub like establishments. Where there is a place a person can have their own sense of governance you would find it somewhere many people can make up a collective group in a building and drink. Educating yourself by listening to others endlessly just to hear over every thing else. I tend to divulge in littering my coherent ear toward politics even inside such a place, I choose to believe or live the way I seem to be. Today I happen to seek my fellows out to bring up the daily news, week to week. A movement does not just happen. Repeat if desired. The fact is, most of the voters don’t know what really is goin’ on they read their mail and worry about their loved ones. A giant pipeline from Alberta to Texas might be a big deal- if they almost always knew how to keep up with the tiny details like Obama saying no or the existance of the damned plan it’s self. Wonder what ever is going to clear the whole panel o’ jurors to a very affirmative no. Every one needs Jobs. Use Canada to make things from Hemp we have land(which you don’t need to grow the stuff) and great farming. There is power in bioethanol and biodiesel made from hemp. We cannot keep tricking ourselves into thinking the gasoline and ill mannered ill tempered oil industry want this technology. I can tell you through all this writing but only reality can picture it like it should be. A life for death is not a life worth living, a life that is asleep like the dead should not be walking. The dead may very much be more possessed with life because of our mention. Live to die in a time alleviated or with the ones you love and relax forever. Start with your surroundings. See what we have done and bring your remaining ideas to a close. A movement these days happens to be when you get a grand group of people with the same ideals and proactive agreements to a stand still, a literal move for a novice bench and the stand to proclamation , where they walk to another area.
The pie in the sky idea here is the “awakening” process of knowledge for those who have yet to even hear such atrocities as not evoking the problems involved with bringing on brain damage from water. There is a problem I am nauseated to tell my mother; not to drink the water.


Picking up where we left off before confrontation of bitter sweet summer endings.

Passion for life-comes out of a striving for better means. Most of my conversations through the day come along the side of clear, fearful, fog. These thoughts leave me at peace-I already knew that my schooling doesn’t always mean I am taken care of. I know that just because my government “cares” for me-It doesn’t mean that I am protected against what corporations will let get to me, namely aspartame, fluoridated water, untested drugs, and the chance to free prostitution before I can smoke some weed in a bar-etc. Getting back to the point…If I already knew ahead of time the top of the mountain that I have arrived at. I shouldn’t be surprised, and I’m not as I stopped to realize I am not intoxicated and I am the same as an animal in this game. To come to these unfinished conclusions of debt and cancer rather leaves me feeling sane; just to know that is happening and here I am unchanged trailing with my
theta waves.

Opening my door and hearing every movement-this life that I’ve stepped into tonight was one that I could fucking hear in the back of my head when sleeping. I lay my skull down and pressed into the bed sheets over head I see my light and allusions of futures that have yet to exist became a reality.
Over and over the rather picking of a tapping always straight on to me. This loathing in my brain-makes me feel like I would rather use some defense, only to keep this intrusion of fear floating in my head under close proximity so that I can remain with that something in my mind… That ready feeling of forward ho’ I and many others await for. Always climbing the downward slope of an agile adjacent feature, like a jagged slide ready for tripping; plucking the very fiber of our knowledge, this loathing of our own being and person that we cease to see; the shielded “proactive” measurements, taken from our own love of fear it’s self. This distinguished human kind as a one horse man. Square it off as people hating people because they conjured an image of true scary flat testicles or extra dry shoulders, this scares many. If left for a long enough time, results end in a supreme aggressive move-again only blowing up the picture to a smudged after-math. 1-2-SNFU. Society’s No Fucking Use. If planet Earth had a terrorist for a God-he or she or…it would be ashamed of being found out with that abomination Earth happening to be that sore that won’t go away.

Continuing- feeling the heart between the sheet that is mine only, beating alone but dragging the flutter from a thought of a powerful hate. . . . Loathing is never permissible on a day- to -day schedule without self destructive patterns – unless given someone whom can see your efforts and defend you equally under the changing smiles of a number of people to meet. . . These reluctant defendants will always know what to say in a slight caption until there is no way to help. It is seemingly inspirational, for one to defend OTHERS; loathing, whilst being comfortable in the niche they helped make for their craft. Not to ignore their own life to be blue. All still noting the fear and the rights of everyone;not just pay. Catchy don’t ya’ think- circular, spiral of unknown reading.

Deep breathing- remember the ride not the destination- ticket to ride. I would murmur, elegantly sinking down deep back into me. Never had such thoughts come to my mind-the very element of the night factor, swinging my knees toward the slide. We all search for our own pleasure, laughter, and game; out of that slips the wicked, slimy, fright. Hopelessly I am enjoying the very entertaining fact, you get no where thinking about what happened in the case of, Victor of Aveyron- nor do thinking of who or where they tested on him will change the fact.
I’ve been told that all it took for someone to get along is the desperation-fear of loathing. Having no choice in how you live but only given life or death won’t leave you picky. Even the fear of not knowing can be better than righteous hate. You will need to be better than hate, better than crushing fatalistic ways. That would be when someone happened to be in his time appearing as a shadow who crept, crawling and climbed right out of my sight and into my line.
PEERING at me peering at this man watching me ..Into a corner dreaded with some inane colors only to wash over clear fantasy out of a dream, he sharply spoke under his breathe yet, silky words pressed my pleasure,

“HEEY! Remember fear.”

Drill the memory into my eyes…Seeing something so intertwined. It is just me with the power to get what I want. Thinking leads to doing as I’m sure I’ve heard somewhere-but harping leads to inoculation-protecting you from what is really there. Song to sing the glory of another day where we all deal with what we have, being strong and forgetting hate that we all had. She sank ten feet past away for ten minutes in her bed with realizations in her head, the horrors and hours went by and still she drives just to pass- the wild turkey for one more laugh to the core of everyday.
I wash my hands perhaps to feel like I belong over you and yours, hey Victor the Wild Child could have sought us all a thing called self reliance. Amazing the world keeps on banging out more and more, can we have any more fighters like Victor that live without their necessities always brought for them – like the lady in her bed alone on a Sunday morning-writing late.

Posted by Mary-Lee Parks - 14/08/11 - 0 comments


The tandem of collapsing, societal emergencies heading for hoards of good people in all special ways happens to be already protected against with the International Network for Global Education. For the emerging youth of the twenty and twenty-first century , we the young adults who search for success; fence the opportunity for imagination to live successfully. Our balance is a game it has been fought with hard ledger, this false thrashing of limbs that slice, and carve our own fate out of time. There’s ignorance in the better ways of a teacher-but with no time to play the role of a predetermined sketcher;the students fame to life is the time they don’t spend on their own. Most of this growth coming into high-school as some one is-was-and should never be.

Not that my age(19n’counting) should mean anything to any one in particular-but the merging of the caress that finances our festering existence, is this; fight for your right to be a proud ,for the sight. Moving yourself through the faculty of life and offering yourself to the wog of new “embarkations” that lie in wait. Doesn’t that actually give you the life expectancy or reassurance that you need? Spinning when I recall the fantasy in creative writing might bring me a bit closer to my ride-I’m down with that. Seemingly enough this isn’t ever “good” for the better part of society-I need what they want from me rather makes my gut quiver with excitement and fear- so far has not a break in the fast.

Living in an M.D.C (more developed country) should mean something to me; in fact the only reason why I’m fortunate in my school district and with the curricula is because I haven’t had the choice or even the benefit of a doubt that I could become the graduate “mom” and “dad” need, or that I’m covered in the long run!
What really lies amidst the shaded veil, that I can see? Running around these frantic money laundering scams making me sick of trying to be-with only one hundred seventy-five dollars for tuition at that. This whole semester I found myself inside the past of a building in the middle of a damn murder scene.
The choice to be good at something is a hard pill to swallow, this shouldn’t mean you cannot do anything if you can’t flex that muscle they want to gleam. Just of failing; doesn’t matter to people if you happen to crunch numbers like a pro but spell worse than a pregnant, brain-damaged, P.C.P, enriched prom queen. It’s simple when you put your life in someones hands and you’re absolutely set for success with the cash flow and family status; knowledge is just a plus. Like many with well off families of course. The set determined path of a persons life-if not already in taken care of homes, or nailed with freedom like a light flounder; you’re different but you have to embrace it-this just doesn’t come over a few core courses in religion, or math! People don’t have a choice about the life they are justified by and subjectified to. Unfortunately most schools won’t acquire any type of special education for anyone already in the seed they’ve sown on their own in a place and nation that’s so well in fear of becoming a thunderous nothing.

In a place like Lethbridge, Alberta Canada the school systems here have many agricultural programs-some say the best in the country or maybe the world. Yet the chilling past of how we’ve been given our stripes happen to be a layer cake of popularity in the world. The way I see it, everyone should be able to have their say in what they want and need to do; especially when it comes to the very core of our reality, what we leave behind for the next generation to follow. Like disease so close to be withered how do we know if the next generation of heroes won’t think to themselves,
“We do know what’s able and more able to do so.”
What’s to be offered if there was no questioning at all?
So I walk forward in this life always pledging to someone we will never forget, they won’t be able to ignore the echo, the young-when we’re old.

It has been created, networks and forums of people (NGO’S) to take the dominant side of “work”. To me it seems the students, teachers, admins, community and parents that will always have more work to do-and do so without the help of the bureaucratic or religious fundamentals on their minds all day. As for me-I cannot fly through the day without remembering these things-all that I can come to is this mind is alright. I don’t need to be smoked out of being happy for creative bliss is my life -in a nation full of worker-bee’s too busy to note the habitats of wild animals and resources dissapearing from right under our eyes.

I really wonder who needs the re-education the people or the Global Government who puts us in a noose to the elements, leading us to the trough; by taking what’s most important for living with our main needs filled and laughing while wasting everything away for the people who have better millions. I don’t feel like my opinion in nature is yet to be held upright and the preservation of land is up to students and the next generation(Push this Generation forward). Go ahead-tell your son or daughter, “We didn’t stand up for your rights, now we don’t have enough money to buy bulk packages of toilet paper from the shortage.”
I can put on my music and search on my computer freely without being beat by the man-too much at all. It’s because of these advantages that we have more and more people have to live without writing in the first place. I swear it’s not my fault, I never wanted people who are in L.D.C’S (less developed country) to be shot down just for expressing ones feelings- even with the government, because essentially I have to speak my mind, spreading the word of better days on a blog or on Facebook, what occured during and what went on after. This is the true and real education that is being forced out of the massive nations of people realizing their world isn’t fair, shaving the reality off that your government really wants it out for you; to control every aspect of knowledge, they just won’t let you know.

Mass destruction comes to a planet full of people who always feel like they’re wanted to do what they don’t want. For long times we have had hierarchy dealing at the top while schools sit solemn at the bottom. Complete and total rejuvenation- let the capable control their own reasoning to complete the dream! Allow the less fortunate to become a part of the whole with core studies and more ability to do what we as a Globe feel is needed to survive in this place, on your own; war children and young adults out-lived or not, could appreciate it more than the many who fall into back breaking O.D’s on spring break.

There is an increase in the gap between rich and poor and it keeps on getting bigger. I feel like I’ve gained a lot with my mind but still feel like giving it away to someone, who just wants it more. So I hope that those of you who dream take care of your mind as if it were some one else’s. Though just wanting some thing more does not mean you can have it or know what next to do with everything it came with. Taken would be the words from this page if read out-loud, to or in a classroom; this only because of the serious age content I have purposely missed out on in those later grades not only that, I have less credentials than a grade eleven student and no opportunity for those neat high-school debates, and gradually, yet serious discussions. As important as they may be I have only one litigation: if it is so easy to write and think habitual thoughts like these and list these thoughts of the world; we will. What do you know and think can and should happen next? Miraculously no one in this world can have any better life if the scientific / psychological facts are copied and repeated like idiotic rewards from the mouth of petty students charged with illegal crediting. Just because it’s a good idea doesn’t mean it will be used or thought of. New ideas to some, have probably already been thought off. A small village lives alone with it’s self, get your water from the well, and kill your own food unless you want to die. We are all a mess when it comes to planning outside our lives with total sensible reaction. We are sitting ducks , wishing we had not chased our tales. Yes, efforts to make a “Global Philosophy” have been snuffed out under this light, culture every where speaks the name of assimilation when struck with bills of unmet “knowledge” in the Western point of view. Unless otherwise documented that a people could have the say in what to meet through a lifetime, afford the cost of living, as seasoned technology is traverse and shipping close to home and still not know half of it-out there in Zimbabwe. It should be very possible for anyone to have a successful life, being what this world needs; a slight finger in the light to open eyes to the shaded, vast preparations- for a break in the justice system-against the peoples. This is something to be left public for everyone to fend-for choking out the martyr with their own damn legislation.

Posted by Mary-Lee Parks - 15/06/11 - 0 comments