i hugged you one day
and we stayed that way for five minutes (hours? days?)
and i wanted to stay there, with you, forever.
Kinda disappointed in the new “We Are The World” song. Honestly, Justin Beiber, Miley, & Jonas Brothers really didn’t have a right being there. It makes me a little sick. Where were the true stars of music who actually have made an impact on the world (not just teeny boppers) like Macy Gray, Eminem, John Mayer, Elton John and Pete Wentz? Actually, I’d like to know why Julianne Hough was there and Taylor Swift wasn’t. Or what about Carrie Underwood, Kelly Clarkson, Jack Johnson, Jessica Simpson & Daughtry? What a lame attempt at a re-make.
Food for thought. Why is it that we all strive to be something, someone different than what we are? Do we really hate ourselves that much, or is it a simple compulsion of jealousy we have to be someone we’re not? We look at someone who we THINK is better than us, and we judge them by their height, their hair, the way their smile curves in the corners of their mouths and the dimples it sets off. It’s their clothes, their entire wardrobe, that we wish we could have. We wish, we want, a different life. To be someone new. They say a picture is worth a thousand words. And even though these people we strive to be like may seem perfect in their pictures, they are as confused, troubled and damaged as we are. We all have problems we can’t escape, mistakes we wish we had never made, and choices that changed how we operate for the rest of our lives. All we can really do, is just accept ourselves for who we are. To be okay with how we look and how we dress. No plastic surgery or clothing stylist can change who we truly are. Because at the end of the day, all we really have is ourselves. And if we can’t be okay with ourselves, then how are we supposed to fight on?
My life closed twice before its close;
It yet remains to see
If Immortality unveil
A third event to me,
So huge, so hopeless to conceive,
As these that twice befell.
Parting is all we know of heaven,
And all we need of hell.
You’ve read the story of Jesse James Of how he lived and died If you’re still in need for something to read Here’s the story of Bonnie and Clyde.
Now Bonnie and Clyde are the Barrow gang, I’m sure you all have read how they rob and steal And those who squeal are usually found dying or dead.
There’s lots of untruths to those write-ups They’re not so ruthless as that Their nature is raw, they hate all law Stool pigeons, spotters, and rats.
They call them cold-blooded killers They say they are heartless and mean But I say this with pride, I once knew Clyde When he was honest and upright and clean.
But the laws fooled around and taking him down and locking him up in a cell ‘Till he said to me, “I’ll never be free So I’ll meet a few of them in hell.”
The road was so dimly lighted There were no highway signs to guide But they made up their minds if all roads were blind They wouldn’t give up ‘till they died.
The road gets dimmer and dimmer Sometimes you can hardly see But it’s fight man to man, and do all you can For they know they can never be free.
From heartbreak some people have suffered From weariness some people have died But all in all, our troubles are small ‘Till we get like Bonnie and Clyde.
If a policeman is killed in Dallas And they have no clue or guide If they can’t find a friend, just wipe the slate clean And hang it on Bonnie and Clyde.
There’s two crimes committed in America Not accredited to the Barrow Mob They had no hand in the kidnap demand Nor the Kansas City Depot job.
A newsboy once said to his buddy “I wish old Clyde would get jumped In these hard times we’s get a few dimes If five or six cops would get bumped.”
“The police haven’t got the report yet But Clyde called me up today He said, “Don’t start any fights, we aren’t working nights, we’re joining the NRA.”
From Irving to West Dallas viaduct Is known as the Great Divide Where the women are kin and men are men And they won’t stool on Bonnie and Clyde.
If they try to act like citizens And rent a nice little flat About the third night they’re invited to fight By a sub-gun’s rat-tat-tat.
They don’t think they’re tough or desperate They know the law always wins They’ve been shot at before, but they do not ignore That death is the wages of sin.
Someday they’ll go down together And they’ll bury them side by side To few it’ll be grief, to the law a relief But it’s death for Bonnie and Clyde.