my last entry was about how I felt at the moment... never ment for it to sound like a poem...
As far as my journals go... am sorry I havent been adding much but I havent felt the need to write anything in here after the BS that I have had to deal with... with one of the members here... now I know am gunna hear shit about who cares what they say or what they think blah blah... well its not that I care its just that I am fed up with alot of the online BS and havent found a reason really to be online anymore...
Many years she stood by the mirror,
adjusting this, fussing over that:
a vain display of affection for herself,
an obsession with material wealth.
One day the mirror cracked;
life shattered in a tragic moment,
reflections distorted in the pieces.
Misery swept over her doll-like physique.
Taking the shards, she made a decision,
one slice here, a cut there
readjusting and fussing again,
all over the red-stained carpet.
Leaving behind a new image,
coarse and redefined,
changed by her non-ending sadness,
in her death she found her happiness.
With the mirror broken,
nothing did she need.
Society was the mirror;
she was the image it expected.
(makes me think of all those women out there who others think are pretty but deep down inside they themselves think they are ugly)
As far as my journals go... am sorry I havent been adding much but I havent felt the need to write anything in here after the BS that I have had to deal with... with one of the members here... now I know am gunna hear shit about who cares what they say or what they think blah blah... well its not that I care its just that I am fed up with alot of the online BS and havent found a reason really to be online anymore...
Many years she stood by the mirror,
adjusting this, fussing over that:
a vain display of affection for herself,
an obsession with material wealth.
One day the mirror cracked;
life shattered in a tragic moment,
reflections distorted in the pieces.
Misery swept over her doll-like physique.
Taking the shards, she made a decision,
one slice here, a cut there
readjusting and fussing again,
all over the red-stained carpet.
Leaving behind a new image,
coarse and redefined,
changed by her non-ending sadness,
in her death she found her happiness.
With the mirror broken,
nothing did she need.
Society was the mirror;
she was the image it expected.
(makes me think of all those women out there who others think are pretty but deep down inside they themselves think they are ugly)
VIEW 10 of 10 COMMENTS
So is your grand mother rich if she is how did she get that way, maybe going to Cleveland is the best thing for you, you might find some great opportunities there,
Sorry about all the questions but im on sg to make some real friends and the only way I know how to get to know some one on here is to ask questions I hope you dont mind.
So does she live in a big house does she have a lot of land what did she do for a living or what did here husband do for a living. Does she drive a nice car does she have horses does she have a farm, does she live in the city or at side the city
Thanks for all the comments it makes my day right now the way my state of mind is in getting comments are one of the only things that is making me happy right now so this little talk we have had has meant a lot to me thanks. Im going to go eat be back later.