Thursday, February 21, 2008

Fun in the hills

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posted by Yamhill @ 3:31 AM 0 comments

The Jerk

A jerk. The one who wandering around, treating people who love him and he loves like a bunch of nothing. The only comfort to the soul of that person is to drive the hills alone with a sad country song on, with a bottle to sip and spit.
His mind is a maze, that no one knows not even him. Only God.
You think you love, and you do or did, it happily co-existed with his torn and raked soul.
But after time the love that had found fresh ground starts to lose way to the old habbits, the weeds take over and the people that had gathered his love lose there crop.
And thus again he wanders the hill in a stupor, hoping to find the unknown over the next hill, behind the next gate. Past the slow moving log truck. He will find it I know. But when that day comes, he will be known as but naught as a memory.

So I would like to state my mind.
I would ask for forgiveness in not listening to you, for not giving my full attention and mind to your every woe and sentence of your life.
To ever making it up and loving like in the old days, or to moving on and finding a love that rivals and surpasses to that of the one in the memory.

I stand alone.
No one will find me.
I pray that the end is the primordium to the make up of the human mind.
The Trifurcate, three paths that wind along the hills. To you, away from you. To heaven.

I eat Oleander.
Yumm.

To thoes who know of The SOY.

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posted by Yamhill @ 3:19 AM 0 comments