Bruises Casal♥

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You're a fierce little bird And you can't settle down Despite all your tryin' You haven't told me a word Of all that you've found Since you started flyin' You couldn't get out of here fast enough And who am I not to wish you nothing but luckYou've got a long way to go Longer than most And for that I am sorry I know it wasn't your fault How were you to know How this all got started You never were like the rest anyway And who am I not to think That you won't find your waySteer clear of confusion Caused by people too well trusted With each new year comes illusion And dreams that leave you disenchantedYou're a sweet little girl And I'll tell you now That you're asking for trouble Cause it's such a cruel world And if you don't watch out They’re all gonna find you But you can't get out of here fast enough And who am I not to wish you Nothing but luck Nothing but luck
~Neal Casal

Uncle Neal!!! I helped decorate that guitar! This is my favorite photo of him ever!
www.myspace.com/nealcasal

...Every time I've loved, I have lost. And everytime we've shared a goodbye a piece of my heart was broken away. I don't know who still carries their trophy, or who has discarded it, but it doesn't matter so much anymore...sometimes I miss those pieces that were taken from me, but sometimes I'm grateful. Because although those missing pieces made my heart smaller, it's stronger now than it's ever been...GMC

"Memory of Wings" by Amy Brown

William Adolphe Bouguereau died in 1905. When the grand old man felt his last hour had come, he gathered his family around him, dictated his last will and testament, and spoke to them. Then he said, "Tell the priest to come now." To the priest he said: "I'm going to meet my God. What shall I tell him? That I have sinned? Yes, and throughout a long life. What shall he answer?" "That he has forgiven you," replied the minister of God, "for by the tears in your eyes, I can see you have repented." "Then give your absolution to the prodigal son who has returned so late but comes back sincerely to his God. Mark on my body the sign of divine forgiveness." And offering his trembling hands to the holy oil, he said: "I repent for the sins these hands have committed, for the world and its vanities." The priest anointed him with the holy oil, and the dying man cried out in a trembling voice, "Amen." He repeated the word as his feet were anointed, asking forgiveness for all the wrong steps they had taken, even on the path to glory. He repeated the word again, closing the eyes that had so often known visions of genius and that also had to be forgiven for looking upon sinful things. "Amen!" he cried, "Amen!"

Intelligence is life insurance. Strength is currency in the bank. Even in this age where you can go out and get shot in the stomach and die screaming in front of the convenience store, you need all the strength you can get. More power now... My thoughts drive me to move, to stop questioning things logically and becoming the definition of the word action. Without strength what do you know, what chance do you have out there? People have separated themselves from their survival instincts in the name of civilization. Yeah, well bullshit shows its colors as soon as the going gets rough... ~Henry Rollins

You're Betty Grable!

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