I can't spell it write

Lost thoughts and destructive patterns confide in the inner breaches of our hopes, as God himself devours dreams, love, promises, and even proposals with destiny. We are the dying breed of masterminds and publishers wrenching ourselves from the lives of our future wives and husbands all for some crusade. What is this fish eye'd view of a map? What are these protestant beliefs doing in an anarchist's mind? Why does everyone have to be wrong?

Don't judge us more than you are willing to judge yourself, for the realization that you can't be right all the time is all that keeps the great masses of your own guild from eating you alive. That's right... wait wrong... wait... there you go once again losing yourself in the music of denial.

You can't kill what isn't alive. The heart beating in unison with it's mother proves nothing.
The lack of a home decreases a persons worth. Not that they believe in the same all powerful, all knowing, equal opportunity God as you...

Selfrightious swines bent on devine right will be the end of this nation...

Nice metaphors and poetic words..

Meh it's called being bored

I get the same way when i'm bored... your not alone...

SO TRUE
heh

xx