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Gothic Thoughts By: R.A.B. on 4/17/2004; 11:34 PM Its been thirteen years and still the sun havent shone on me-- Its coveted rays hidden beneath a plethora of dark, gloomy- nimbus clouds. My faith has dwindled to near-nothingness now; My fate unknown, my laughter robbed of gistrobbed of its life but, come to think of it, it was non-living to begin with Its been thirteen years from when I first came to know what color is, What nakedness was, what water meant, what life isat least, what is it to be dead (like my first dog) And yet the rays of the sun deprived me of its presence. And my pale, calloused skin screams for its warmth each and everyday. but, come to think of it, being sunburned hurts Its been thirteen years and still melancholia engulfs my heart Sweet flowers evade my touch, bunny rabbits despise my crotch. Truckers greet me, shotgun shells wound me, fire crackers scorch me. Now I cant touchI cant feel with my handsneither left nor right can tell me what smoothness is but, then again, the smooth edge of a knife can cut me. Or better yet, decapitate me Its been thirteen years since I knew who my loved ones were. Who my Mother was, who my Father was And yet--Im still puzzled to this day on what they are. Yes, I cant quite comprehend for I am the fruit that has fallen far away from the tree. but, then again, to grow beneath someones shade is inconceivableat least, for me, it is Now, thirteen years after I first recorded a reel of memory in my obscure, well-rounded jar of thoughts, Im sad, Im happy, Im contented, Im jealous, Im bored, Im busyIm complexor better yet, distorted. To a well taught out tomorrow boredom comesto a greed-run life emptiness transpires, Nothing to live for can kill the soulor worsethe essence. Sometimes I am empty, Sometimes I am full. Sometimes I am Interesting, Sometimes I am dull. One thing is for sureI am not perfect and I dont claim to be one, For perfection in its other logic is boredom
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