Setsuna_of_the_Bunny Offline

38 Single Male from Agissê       3


MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!!!!1111111!!!111111 I say this everyyear so yaye Christmas yaye.......but OH NOES.....Santa mya not come this year cus he was shot when he beat up this hw@wz@ he picked up in his sled last night and her pimp shot him./......bad santa.......what the p[imp said - " fluffy b~*%~ didnt know bout ma glock.....yea....oh oh Merry Christmas moms..."

well since santa is screwed and we wont get any presents we can go back to the 'true' meaning of Chritsmas, fx%y if i know what it is, but i think it has to do with some jewish or arab guy dying, or coming back to life, or, birth? well whatever just buy stuff then

santa may be gone but at least we can carry on his memory (santa interjects-"b*^~^ i aint dead!"Buy stuff and keep Santa alive ppl!1!1.and buy me stuf, and if u dont Merry Christmas anyway..u cheap bastard.........

Two of my favourite poems.....


by: Christina Rossetti *******894)

HEN I was dead, my spirit turned
To seek the much-frequented house:
I passed the door, and saw my friends
Feasting beneath green orange boughs;
From hand to hand they pushed the wine,
They sucked the pulp of plum and peach;
They sang, they jested, and they laughed,
For each was loved of each.

I listened to their honest chat:
Said one: 'To-morrow we shall be
Plod plod along the featureless sands
And coasting miles and miles of sea.'
Said one: 'Before the turn of tide
We will achieve the eyrie-seat.'
Said one: 'To-morrow shall be like
To-day, but much more sweet.'

'To-morrow,' said they, strong with hope,
And dwelt upon the pleasant way:
'To-morrow,' cried they one and all,
While no one spoke of yesterday.
Their life stood full at blessed noon;
I, only I, had passed away:
'To-morrow and to-day,' they cried;
I was of yesterday.

I shivered comfortless, but cast
No chill across the tablecloth;
I all-forgotten shivered, sad
To stay and yet to part how loth:
I passed from the familiar room,
I who from love had passed away,
Like the remembrance of a guest
That tarrieth but a day.

To Santa Claus and Little Sisters


On yellow paper, with green lines, he wrote a poem,

And called it "Chops",

Because that was the name of his dog,

And that’s what it was all about.

And the teacher gave him an "A"

And a gold star,

And his mother hung it on the kitchen door,

And read it to all his aunts.

That was the year his sister was born,

With tiny toenails and no hair,

And Father Tracy took them to the zoo

And let them sing on the bus.

And his mother and father kissed a lot

And the girl around the corner sent him a Christmas card

Signed with a row of x's.

And his father always tucked him in at night,

And he was always there to do it.


On white paper, with blue lines, he wrote another poem.

And he called it "Autumn"

Because that was the name of a season,

And that’s what it was all about.

And the teacher gave him an "A"

And told him to write more clearly.

And his mother didn’t hang it on the kitchen door

Because the door

Had just been painted.

That was the year his sister got glasses,

With black frames and thick lenses.

And the kids told him why father and mother

Kissed a lot,

And that Father Tracy smoked cigars

And left butts on the pews,

And the girl around the block laughed

When he went to see Santa Claus at Macy’s.

And his father stopped tucking him in bed at night,

And got mad when he cried for him to.


On paper torn from his notebook, he wrote another poem,

And he called it "Question Marked Innocence",

Because that was the name of his grief

And that’s what it was all about.

And the professor gave him an "A"

And a strange and steady look.

And his mother never hung it on the door

Because he never let her see it.

That year he found his sister necking on the back porch

And his parents never kissed, or even smiled.

And he forgot how the end of the "Apostle’s Creed" went,

And Father Tracy died.

And the girl around the block wore too much make-up

That made him cough when he kissed her,

But he kissed her anyway.


At 3 a.m., he tucked himself in bed,

His father snoring soundly.

He tried another poem, on the back of a pack of matches,

And he called it "absolutely nothing"

Because that’s what it was all about.

And he gave himself an "A"

And a slash on each damp wrist,

And hung it on the bathroom door,

Because he couldn’t reach the kitchen.

Anonymous (written by a 15-year-old boy

two years before he committed suicide)

What are friends?

What are friends?

Are they someone who u hang out with?

Are they ppl who u talk to and share stuff with?

Are they ppl who u can feel close to?

Are they ppl u can turn to when things are rough?

Are they ppl that can turn to u when things are rough?

Are they ppl that can be with u thru thick and thin?

Are they ppl u flirt with?

Are they ppl u fxw$?

Are they ppl no matter what u say they will accept u for who u are?

Are they ppl who u can accept no matter what they say for who they r?

Now considering all these things..who would u consider a friend?.......and in the grand scheme of things would it even matter?

You get close to ppl then they die some might say this is pessimistic or nihilistic.....or just plain emo....but if indeed if u ponder upon these things.....

what makes a person a it what he does or says or what she doesnt say or say?......what drives a person to do what/she does?........should it matter to u? after all who is this person that u should care about?....random person in the street do u know or care for them?.therefore should they matter to u?.....

but a friend now?.......ah this is someone who u should hold on to....... right?....since after all they care about u...and if someone cares about u they should matter to u right?.....a favor returning a favor if u will...perhaps....

random faceless person in the street should i care if ur father is dying of aids?........
should i care if ur wife is cheating on u?
should i care if ur son has a brain tumor and will die in a few weeks?
should u matter to me?....
do u care about me?......u do?.....well maybe i think i shall shed a tear at ur funeral if i happen to be passing thru on that day or if i have business in the area......for i am quite busy u own meandering, meaningless and empty life calls to me.....i have an appointment with youtube and carson daley....and pehaps i might find some nirvana on my ipod....

......dont take this post too seriously i was depressed when i wrote it........but this is what i am actually thinking of now........and if anything take it with agrain of salt.......i am a quite ignorant man.....

maybe this post does sound a bit too emo.......