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MeRochesterYouJane's Flamebate Posts

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	Happy New Year Somebody Posted: 2008 ~~was~~ is crap Indeed. 2008 will always be remembered as a piece of crap, like all the years before it. And all our yesterdays, like flaming turds, have lighted fools the way to dusty death… (view post)	12/31/2008
	Happy New Year On this of all occasions I am reminded of how pointless everything is. This year is dead, as dead as the leaves were in November as bored people trampled them in the icy rain. But what follows? Another empty year. What are years?? I have heard it said that people usually die at the turning of the tide, just before dawn, or in autumn. Autumn: the turning of the season. The year is measured in seasons. But we have imposed our arbitrary laws on it. ** doesn’t get shat on January 1st. But we think it does, because we say so. The universe goes on, doing whatever it does, and we are insignificant. Dust. Excrement. Ashes. And so I lurk here, near the closest thing I have to companionship, while I watch Sweeney Todd for the 7th time. Maybe I’ll pause it long enough to watch the clock on my laptop turn over. Or maybe not. Happy new year, my fellow balls of soot. Log in to see images!** (view post)	12/31/2008
	ultimate hangover cure That was as empty as life itself. I recommend clamato, with a dash of tabasco. Ah, tabasco; sweet, sweet pain… (view post)	12/30/2008
	My Words Bleed An Negro Posted: purse usin’ mutha**a u gay Nay, my lady, this purse usin’ muthaa is in fact bi. A moot point since my existence is devoid of love. Even bats and wolves have company, even the moon is lit by the sun’s rays; I alone am left to stare, solitary, into the darkness. A void. Romance is dead. Log in to see images! Log in to see images! Log in to see images!** (view post)	12/30/2008
	** my life... I buy blades with which to shave my face; if they were to serve a dual purpose, that in fact would save money rather than waste it. But that is moot; material wealth is empty, and you are naught but “sound and fury, signifying nothing.” Merely a scream into a paper cup. Ashes. Log in to see images!** (view post)	12/30/2008
	** my life... Homework is one of a million examples of the bull through which we wade on a daily basis. If we do it, we must sacrifice the time that could be spent on better things; our souls are sucked dry. If we ignore it, or so we are told, we are condemned to a life of misery, because we are subordinate to those who value only material wealth. The futility of mathematics eats away at my life’s blood. Log in to see images!** (view post)	12/30/2008
	My Words Bleed iRAWR Posted: A good poem, but you used too many repeating words. B- You fail to understand: the repetition of words reflects the endless monotony of a life without love. Every day, we hear the same words; “hello,” “how are you,” “see you later,” that all have lost their meaning; the endless repetition of parents’ demented questions, the same patterns of nagging over and over. There is bitter irony on your giving this poem a grade at all; grades are meaningless, for so is life. Meaningless, empty. Empty. Log in to see images! (view post)	12/30/2008
	hey guys mi life sux Raepdog-In-Peace Posted: comon there has to be some cool gottik guys on tis site that want to talk I bumume you use “Gothic” to refer to fashion, but it describes my temperament well. My thoughts are mostly of love and death. You say it is hard not knowing love; your innocence touches me, for I know love, and it is pain. I would that I were a hedgehog, that I could curl myself into a spiky ball, that none may touch without feeling pain, so that I might never again be eviscerated by her delicate claws… I know what it is to be misunderstood. I too am bisexual (but to what avail if love is to be continually reft from me?!). I am an intellectual, which my parents cannot comprehend. As we speak, I listen to Beethoven, while they watch hockey. Hockey!!! Life is empty. Futility. Log in to see images! (view post)	12/30/2008
	Venting... That is too beautiful. The spiralling euphoria of love has all too recently been torn from me. Leaving in its place a void where pain resounds like a booming echo. A scar, that burns with aching fire as I write these words, and as I read yours. The light that sweetened my darkness has fled, leaving me alone, surrounded by looming shadows of I know not what. Pain. Log in to see images! (view post)	12/30/2008
	Amazing poetry inside / READ ME FIRST or you'll have died AKK Posted: The bitterest tears shed over graves are for words left unsaid and deeds left undone. ... The sad truth is that most evil is done by people who never make up their minds to be good or evil. The saddest aspect of life right now is that science gathers knowledge faster than society gathers wisdom. Do not bumume that he who seeks to comfort you now, lives untroubled among the simple and quiet words that sometimes do you good. His life may also have much sadness and difficulty, that remains far beyond yours. Were it otherwise, he would never have been able to find these words. You describe the beauty of melancholy so perfectly. The void in my soul rings in response, the way a wine glbum vibrates when I scream my anguish into it. My soul is an empty wine glbum; the wind blows through it and it moans, feeling its emptiness. Dust. (view post)	12/30/2008

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