free the west memphis 3. i think justice has long been overdue to these 3 men. to have their lives taken away for crimes they are completely innocent of. there is now dna evidence proving the innocence of the three. what are they waiting for? while the system drags its heels, three innocent men still sit and wait. i think their debt has been paid. a debt for what though? for just being different. it sickens me that i live in a world where ignorance of this magnitude can still prevail. not only prevail, but cost the lives of the innocent. nothing can repay to these three men the pain, suffering, and loss theyve had to endure. nothing. its long been time for amnesty, lets see it!
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lately, i have been all about personal growth and rediscovery. i have been tattooing since september of '06. ive been learning a lot about life and art and i love it. and i like making things and riding my bike. i love the world very much. but i despise those who constantly disregard it or other humans for personal gain. all that.....and i dont drink anymore, so i do headstands and other amazing, magical acts at parties. invite me over for an evening of enchantment....aim=killingallfiles.
i like making mix cd's. its a great way to listen to stuff youd normally never listen to. trading mix cd's=fun. let me know if you would like to.....ill make you one, then you can make me one.
the history of a tough motherfucker
charles bukowski
he came to the door one night wet thin beaten and terrorized a white cross-eyed tailless cat I took him in and fed him and he stayed grew to trust me until a friend drove up the driveway and ran him over I took what was left to a vet who said, "not much chance...give him these pills...his backbone is crushed but it was crushed before and somehow mended, if he lives he'll never walk, look at these x-rays, he's been shot, look here, the pellets are still there...also, he once had a tail, somebody cut it off..."
I took the cat back, it was a hot summer, one of the hottest in decades, I put him on the bathroom floor, gave him water and pills, he wouldn't eat, he wouldn't touch the water, I dipped my finger into it and wet his mouth and I talked to him, I didn't go any- where, I put in alot of bathroom time and talked to him and gently touched him and he looked back at me with those pale blue crossed eyes and as the days went by he made his first move dragging himself forward by his front legs (the rear ones wouldn't work) he made it to the litter box crawled over and in, it was like the trumpet of possible victory blowing in that bathroom and into the city, I related to that cat-I'd had it bad, not that bad but bad enough...
one morning he got up, stoodup, fell back down and just looked at me.
"you can make it" I said to him.
he kept trying, getting up and falling down, finally he walked a few steps, he was like a drunk, the rear legs just didn't want to do it and he fell again, rested, then got up.
you know the rest: now he's better than ever, cross-eyed, almost toothless, but the grace is back, and that look in his eyes never left...
and now sometimes I'm interviewed, they want to hear about life and literature and I get drunk and hold up my cross-eyed, shot, runover de-tailed cat and I say, "look, look at this!"
but they don't understand, they say something like, "you say you've been influenced by Celine?"
"no," I hold the cat up, "by what happens, by things like this, by this, by this!"
I shake the cat, hold him up in the smoky and drunken light, he's relaxed, he knows...
it's then the interviews end although I am proud sometimes when I see the pictures later and there I am and there is the cat and we are photo- graphed together.
he too knows it's bullshit but that somehow it helps
the old beseler black and white photo enlarger. shes always there for me, and i love her for it.