The Highway, Part Two
Hate: I have seen its ugliness. I have lived its ugliness. I have torn from the inexorable shackles wrapped till bloods blackness spilt beneath the moons hallow breath of sorrow. I am not one who hates.
All right, so I haven’t really ever had handcuffs cut into me... well I haven’t really had handcuffs cut into me and make me bleed under the night moon but you can use that merry minuet as an analogy to feelings I have experienced so bugger off already and let me continue.
I have been forced, un-regrettably, to understand hatred and the ill-effects it waves. In the past ten years I have wade through its muck and misery and questioned the son of reason as to the meaning behind. Perhaps in pursuance of veiled peace I shrouded the path to which the answers would show.
God helps those who help themselves; although this statement is made of faith, the philosophy is well heed. Much as an alcoholic may not change until the disease is acknowledged, one must strive for betterment before it appears.
To break from hate, to minister sorrow, to help myself... I set a course for adventure, my mind on a new romance and cozied up to Captain Stubing. Now mind you – Isaac generates a much more appealing aura, plus he has a full head of hair and he’s pretty fly with the chicks but sometimes you just have to be the captain of your own ship (Gopher is cute but I really don’t want to hear cute, I want to hear ouch but that’s a different tale).
Many then, this is not a tale about me; it is a tale of my experiences that have brought ever expanding knowledge of those who embody hate. It is about those who may not comprehend, or those who refrain from the acknowledgement of anger.
All right, so I haven’t really ever had handcuffs cut into me... well I haven’t really had handcuffs cut into me and make me bleed under the night moon but you can use that merry minuet as an analogy to feelings I have experienced so bugger off already and let me continue.
I have been forced, un-regrettably, to understand hatred and the ill-effects it waves. In the past ten years I have wade through its muck and misery and questioned the son of reason as to the meaning behind. Perhaps in pursuance of veiled peace I shrouded the path to which the answers would show.
God helps those who help themselves; although this statement is made of faith, the philosophy is well heed. Much as an alcoholic may not change until the disease is acknowledged, one must strive for betterment before it appears.
To break from hate, to minister sorrow, to help myself... I set a course for adventure, my mind on a new romance and cozied up to Captain Stubing. Now mind you – Isaac generates a much more appealing aura, plus he has a full head of hair and he’s pretty fly with the chicks but sometimes you just have to be the captain of your own ship (Gopher is cute but I really don’t want to hear cute, I want to hear ouch but that’s a different tale).
Many then, this is not a tale about me; it is a tale of my experiences that have brought ever expanding knowledge of those who embody hate. It is about those who may not comprehend, or those who refrain from the acknowledgement of anger.
posted by Harmon J. Sedgwick at
8:52 AM
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