MySpace.com Blogs - ♪♥♪THE ONE♥♪♥ MySpace Blog

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Posted by on Tue, 28 Jul 2009 15:15:00 GMT

My Mob Family.

"Twas the night before Christmas and all thru the house not a mobster was sober not even Joe the louse. While Grandma and Grandpa were plotting a war, the children were upstairs placing bounties galor...
Posted by on Sun, 14 Dec 2008 06:04:00 GMT

A Letter from God to Michael

Recently, I had the esteemed pleasure of going to rehab. While there,  I was given the assignment to think of what my idea of God was... to whit, I was asked to write a letter from God to myself....
Posted by on Sun, 05 Oct 2008 00:52:00 GMT

Check out this video: Krofft Kwikies - Land of the Lost "Sleestak God"

Check out this video: Krofft Kwikies - Land of the Lost "Sleestak God" ..Add to My Profile | More Videos
Posted by on Mon, 14 Jul 2008 17:19:00 GMT

Understanding LOVE

How we abuse this poor little four-letter word.  It has come to be used in as many ways as other four-letter words.  The all incompassing word to express a strong desire or emotion.  It...
Posted by on Sun, 22 Oct 2006 06:28:00 GMT

You Just don't know.

I love you more than you know. I just wish you could see so. What we have and what has been, all means somthing in the end. Your loud tone and point blank emotion, leaves me cold, distant and lost in ...
Posted by on Mon, 10 Jul 2006 14:17:00 GMT

The World as it should be.

Let me paint you a picture, while I am so inspired.Lest I lose energy, and again become tired.For what I see takes so much out of me.What it is that bothers me, you will now see.We think and we learn,...
Posted by on Mon, 10 Jul 2006 11:06:00 GMT

A self strugle worth the effort.

It is easy to believe that in leaving our childhood homes and embarking upon the journey of adulthood, we have effectively removed ourselves from harmful and self-perpetuating familial patterns. In lo...
Posted by on Tue, 04 Jul 2006 21:54:00 GMT

A slow death....

The yellowed light flickers across the dirt smeared floor,tainted with shards of crimsonfrom wounds of before,paled fingers run scabbed linesbegging, pleading, just once more,the urges,the hunger,the...
Posted by on Sat, 01 Jul 2006 14:21:00 GMT

Making Love.

In the fragile, fleeting moment of love, time is a distant echo. Lost to the whir of wings as they caress the air in ascent. And the firm touch of hands, made delicate by warm embrace, beckoning back ...
Posted by on Thu, 15 Jun 2006 22:05:00 GMT