Monday, June 27, 2011

You Miss Us?


The L.I.F. crew is back and here to let you know we are still alive! Sorry to take such a long break, but the blog went underground in order to calm the chaos that we were dealing with in each of our lives. Nevertheless, the blog is back and we have a few treats for you! Joseph has more chapters to his fantastic story, A New Beginning, as we continue through Bruce's journey, while Anora has her always marvelous writing to keep your tastes appeased.

As for me, I will be slowly building up a new project on the site that I have been very secretive about; Not even my fellow bloggers know about this project. All I will tell you about it right now is that it's codenamed "Jokes". No this isn't a really late April Fool's joke, but don't worry I will be posting information and doing a little Q&A soon on the details, along with a new challenge and discussion that will have a lot to do with it. Speaking of jokes though, I thought it would be downright rude to leave without giving you a taste of the future, so here is a poem that Ms. Anora inspired me to write. Enjoy! :)

Put his life into words didn't he?

What A Joke

We call society’s outcasts freaks,

Labeling them for having a personality.

These people with nothing but pure desire,

Insanity brought about by humanity’s cruel fire.

Pocket knifes stealing the lives of a mother’s child,

Gang violence poisoning the mind into ignorant denial.

Yet worship is given to the monsters of this world,

Sitting fat onto a greed infested order.

Shooting, Killing,

Ruining the lives of the hard workers.

Creating these madmen that rape a father’s daughter.

Molding the psychopath that stabs a lady’s poor grandfather.

No one thinks of the ones who lose their world,

Until they are person screaming unjust.

Not realizing that this all steams

From a man who had one bad day.

Not realizing we are no different then him,

And he was only ahead of the curve.

So in that asylum,

We toss the loon, the freak inside.

Calling for his head,

Wishing he was dead,

The monster we gave birth to.

It’s too much ask,

To save a freak,

Because most the time we’re too late.

Yet every now and then comes freak,

Who can be save, but dies cause no one

Stands up and becames a little brave.

No, homo sapiens are content,

With excluding their own,

In a species that hates individuals,

Anyone too different from the world.

You call that girl,

The one who loves a little too dear,

A freak and crazy right beside her.

You name that Boy,

That loving boy,

A creeper and weirdo then egg them.

Then when hanging from rope,

You crack a few jokes,

Our people never truly caring we caused it.

Then we all go out,

To hear how they caught the real freaks.

HA! That’s a joke if I ever heard one.


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