<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999506100321621625</id><updated>2011-12-29T09:15:03.305-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A mind twice removed</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Macy D'funk Labunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13039089024516834925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_x9tPRekJG6k/SZ4-9mX-wkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RWotkl-7Eg4/S220/wwriters+pen.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>69</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999506100321621625.post-4086233064855428656</id><published>2011-12-26T09:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-27T08:30:59.049-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Olamiji</title><content type='html'>I take comfort in the fact you won't read this&lt;div&gt;Or ever see the manic depressive I've become&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There are days I lie to myself I don't need you&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There are days I can't stand the sound of your name&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There are days I think I don't like you&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There are days I accept that you won't be coming home&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There are days I feel I could just kill you&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But just end up broken down in bed&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There are days were the world illuminates nothing but you&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And I wake up still wishing I'm dead&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There are days where it's so hard to breathe&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And I'm so overwhelmed, then your memory pops up in my head&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There are days I can hardly make it out of bed&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And I want to claw your name out my head&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There are days I detest everything about you&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But I could never ever live a life without you&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There are days that hold promise and days with none at all&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But there hasn't been a day I don't love you&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There's never been a day I don't think of you&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Or pray our futures end up together in the end&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There hasn't been a day I've been able to be me without you&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999506100321621625-4086233064855428656?l=removedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/4086233064855428656/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2011/12/olamiji.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/4086233064855428656'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/4086233064855428656'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2011/12/olamiji.html' title='Olamiji'/><author><name>Macy D'funk Labunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13039089024516834925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_x9tPRekJG6k/SZ4-9mX-wkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RWotkl-7Eg4/S220/wwriters+pen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999506100321621625.post-2452390231873420052</id><published>2011-10-05T18:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-05T18:20:07.248-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Growl</title><content type='html'>Let's strike a bargain&lt;div&gt;I'll switch souls with the dead&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So they might have my body&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And walk beside you instead&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Maybe then you'll see reason&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When you hear the praises they said&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Maybe they can lead you&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;To that paradise in your head&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So let's strike a bargain&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My life for that of someone you love&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So that they may comfort you&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Give you the love and acknowledgement you so want&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Maybe then I'd have a reason&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And a purpose might come my way&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And I might be able to add something positive&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;To the life that you lay.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999506100321621625-2452390231873420052?l=removedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/2452390231873420052/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2011/10/growl.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/2452390231873420052'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/2452390231873420052'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2011/10/growl.html' title='Growl'/><author><name>Macy D'funk Labunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13039089024516834925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_x9tPRekJG6k/SZ4-9mX-wkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RWotkl-7Eg4/S220/wwriters+pen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999506100321621625.post-6058660779395006384</id><published>2011-10-05T17:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-05T18:13:43.824-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Nomad Thoughts</title><content type='html'>I'm just a host for these thoughts and feelings&lt;div&gt;Fighting to burst through, to survive&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;To finally breathe in air of their own&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Held back by the essence that is me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Finding their dreams still remain unreal&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And deep inside they continue to rebel against me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cooking up a storm, so they can finally be rid of me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;They don't see me as human&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm a just a mechanism, a machine&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Utterly useless to their loved ones &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And to those they find feelings for&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thoughts and reason have no need of me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;They watch and listen as I stand by&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Everyone around me has a problem and need&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But I can't satisfy them&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Neither can I do anything&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Helpless as a man&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Weak as a machine&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My thoughts have finally questioned&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The reason and need for me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999506100321621625-6058660779395006384?l=removedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/6058660779395006384/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2011/10/nomad-thoughts.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/6058660779395006384'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/6058660779395006384'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2011/10/nomad-thoughts.html' title='Nomad Thoughts'/><author><name>Macy D'funk Labunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13039089024516834925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_x9tPRekJG6k/SZ4-9mX-wkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RWotkl-7Eg4/S220/wwriters+pen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999506100321621625.post-6742795619070873674</id><published>2011-06-29T16:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-29T16:04:09.234-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Best Night Ever</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;He walks into the club with no expectations&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;He walks straight for the bar, the music is almost flirtations&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;He grabs a drink and turns to the dance floor, the girls looks so sensuous&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;He finds her from across the room and it’s like he finding beauty for the first time&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;And for the first time in his life he feels no chills, no fear&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;He walks up to her, confident, cool and calm, like he’s done this a thousand times&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Expecting as he reaches her, he’ll choke and walk back to the bar drink in hand&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;But he gets there and there’s a look in her eye&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;He finds he’s saying all the right words, making all the right moves&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;For the first time that night she has a dance partner&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;And he’s a dancing sensation even though he’s failed every dance class he’s ever been to&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;She’s moving and swaying, he’s so enchanted he doesn’t even notice he’s dropped the glasses&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;It’s like he’s dancing on air&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;She grabs his hands and takes them to the bar to order drinks&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;He takes a shot of vodka and it’s like the first time he’s ever had one&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The dryness washing down his throat, it’s like a new sensation&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;He can’t stop staring at her &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;She grabs his face and plants him a kiss&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;He feels this is the first kiss he’s ever had and every other kiss he might ever have would be judged by this one moment&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;She smiles; she knows exactly the effect she has on him&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;He takes another sip of his drink; it still feels like the first&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;There must be over a dozen other beautiful women in the club&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;But he can’t see anyone but her&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;There must be over a hundred guys in the club and he can tell she’s got everyone’s stare&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;She makes her way back to the dance floor with him in tow&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Captivated as he is, he’s mesmerized &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;She sips her drink and kisses him for all to see&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;He’s the envy of all on scene&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The alcohol slips down his throat and damn, it’s another new sensation&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Totally better than anything he’s ever known&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;He can actually swear he’s stop breathing a long while ago&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;She’s never stopped dancing, her body constantly moving, constantly charming&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;He’s lost to the world and for him it’s the best night of his life&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;She runs her hands down his face and his body goes numb, her hand is all he feels&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Her jewel eyes like a drug, transporting him to paradise&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;She knows the effect she has on him&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;And just when he thinks he’s on pleasure overload&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;She turns around and puts her hips to his waist&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;She’s twisting and swaying, he stopped hearing the music playing&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;And when she knows he’s excited, she can feel him&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;She grabs his hand and leads him off the dance floor&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;They make their way to the conveniences&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;All he can see is her moving, her body still swaying, her body rhythm still playing&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;She’s humming a tune but he can’t even hear it&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;She’s opening the doors, still leading him on&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;He can’t figure out anywhere he’d rather be, not now, not ever&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;And as she pins him to the wall and mounts him with a kiss&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;His whole life flashes before him&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Yet he can’t think of any night he’s ever had that could be better than this&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;She’s kissing and undressing him, his whole body is burning up&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;And in his alcohol stained breath, he can swear he’s catching glances of flames&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;He feels her desire, her heat; he’s never felt more wanted or more needed&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;He’s never felt a woman ravage him like this before&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;He sees her when she pulls the knife from her boots&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;But he doesn’t care; he not even phased that’s the first time he’s observed what she’s been wearing all night.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;She has him in her arms, her body squeezing on his and all he can think of is sin&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;And as her body moves, as she begins thrusting feverishly, her nails bite into his skin&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;And soon after, so does the knife&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;With every thrust her body makes towards his, she’s accompanied by the knife&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;And in all his pleasure, he’s well aware of the blood spilling from his body but he doesn’t care&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Her passion grows with each penetration of the knife&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;And he can feel the life force leaving him&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;He’s holding on desperately for the finish&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The final kiss, the climax that would whisk him away to el paradisio&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Her blood soaked hands brush the sweat from his face&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;But they can’t wipe away the smile he has planted there&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;She gives him one last kiss before she pulls away&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;His clinging on to watch her wash up&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;She never stops moving, her body still swaying&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;She blows him a kiss as she walks away&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;With his last breath leaving him&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The only though left on his mind stands clear&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;This was the best damn night of his life.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999506100321621625-6742795619070873674?l=removedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/6742795619070873674/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2011/06/best-night-ever.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/6742795619070873674'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/6742795619070873674'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2011/06/best-night-ever.html' title='Best Night Ever'/><author><name>Macy D'funk Labunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13039089024516834925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_x9tPRekJG6k/SZ4-9mX-wkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RWotkl-7Eg4/S220/wwriters+pen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999506100321621625.post-5500054321772876503</id><published>2011-06-29T06:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-29T06:14:59.504-07:00</updated><title type='text'>silly thing</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 15px; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "&gt;i imagine you standing by the door&lt;div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; line-height: 1.2em; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; "&gt;dressed in nothing but a thin black silk&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; line-height: 1.2em; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; "&gt;i imagine taking you into my arms&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; line-height: 1.2em; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; "&gt;your smell intoxicates me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; line-height: 1.2em; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; "&gt;i grow weak as i feel your warm embrace&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; line-height: 1.2em; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; "&gt;at first too afraid to look into face&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; line-height: 1.2em; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; "&gt;a lil afraid that your beauty would blind my eyes&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; line-height: 1.2em; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; "&gt;but then i take you in and it's always a sensuous surprise&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; line-height: 1.2em; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; "&gt;i imagine my hands around your waist&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; line-height: 1.2em; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; "&gt;i'm loosing consciousness as my hand strokes the small of your back&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; line-height: 1.2em; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; "&gt;it's like i'm dying when your lips find mine&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; line-height: 1.2em; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; "&gt;and every time, i swear i loose my mind&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; line-height: 1.2em; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; "&gt;i imagine your hands locked in my hair&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; line-height: 1.2em; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; "&gt;it's like i'm walking on chocolate covered silken air&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; line-height: 1.2em; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; "&gt;i imagine the glorious smile that shapes your face&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; line-height: 1.2em; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; "&gt;and believe it comes from feeling of having me near&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; line-height: 1.2em; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; "&gt;i imagine you waiting there for me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; line-height: 1.2em; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; "&gt;that's how i make it through my days&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999506100321621625-5500054321772876503?l=removedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/5500054321772876503/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2011/06/silly-thing.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/5500054321772876503'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/5500054321772876503'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2011/06/silly-thing.html' title='silly thing'/><author><name>Macy D'funk Labunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13039089024516834925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_x9tPRekJG6k/SZ4-9mX-wkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RWotkl-7Eg4/S220/wwriters+pen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999506100321621625.post-7707026471343534069</id><published>2011-06-25T16:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-03T18:34:12.040-07:00</updated><title type='text'>where is my mind?</title><content type='html'>where is my mind?&lt;div&gt;i'm lost in thought, feeling, emotions and such&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i haven't written a story in months&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;my thoughts are tirelessly swimming&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;but barely make the shore&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;am i lost or just unsure&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;am i without direction or without a clue&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;in places unknown or just unknown in places&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;where is my mind?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;am i that lost without you?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999506100321621625-7707026471343534069?l=removedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/7707026471343534069/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2011/06/where-is-my-mind.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/7707026471343534069'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/7707026471343534069'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2011/06/where-is-my-mind.html' title='where is my mind?'/><author><name>Macy D'funk Labunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13039089024516834925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_x9tPRekJG6k/SZ4-9mX-wkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RWotkl-7Eg4/S220/wwriters+pen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999506100321621625.post-687338068204197317</id><published>2011-06-25T16:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-25T16:36:51.751-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Faith</title><content type='html'>these days i find faith in the oddest places&lt;div&gt;in a flower growing by the brick passage way&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;in a text sent abstractly with just the word, hey!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;in an offline message of just a sentence or a buzz&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;in a video chat lasting hours&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;in a flashing smile, without thought or reason&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;in you...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999506100321621625-687338068204197317?l=removedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/687338068204197317/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2011/06/faith.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/687338068204197317'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/687338068204197317'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2011/06/faith.html' title='Faith'/><author><name>Macy D'funk Labunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13039089024516834925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_x9tPRekJG6k/SZ4-9mX-wkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RWotkl-7Eg4/S220/wwriters+pen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999506100321621625.post-17293554131215197</id><published>2011-06-07T20:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-25T13:54:40.295-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A speck of dust</title><content type='html'>I'm lost, I'm hungry, I have no where to go&lt;div&gt;I'm alone, depressed, the world doesn't feel like a home&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But who cares, who's there?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Who sees my hungry stare?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Who sees the tears as they pour down in my despair?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm unemployed, broke, homeless and broken&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm degraded, disgraced and judged by words unspoken&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've arrived at a point where I see the ghosts in the shadows&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And when I look at the dust, I see bones, all broken and hallow&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;All I am to you are words, thoughts and ideas&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But you won't even listen, you see, to you, I'm not even there&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I cling to falling curtains, as they draw close my life&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Trying to find a memory, of a time things were alright&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Trying to take a breath, that maybe someone would remember&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But what do you care, I'm just the winter in December&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And I'll pass on unknown, uncared for and un-thought of&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;No one would even notice, I leave nothing to be in want of&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My words would remain unread, my thoughts unheard&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And yet I have friends, some would dare say I have loved ones...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;None ever really knew me nor the lives, I lived&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The woes I bled, the troubles I breed&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was just a face, a speck of dust on the sand&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was heard when I was born, but I go silent on my death bed&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The silence was my life, the words I said unheard&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I came loved and wanted&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I leave unloved, unneeded&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Unheard, unknown....just a speck of dust on the sand&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999506100321621625-17293554131215197?l=removedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/17293554131215197/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2011/06/speck-of-dust.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/17293554131215197'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/17293554131215197'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2011/06/speck-of-dust.html' title='A speck of dust'/><author><name>Macy D'funk Labunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13039089024516834925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_x9tPRekJG6k/SZ4-9mX-wkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RWotkl-7Eg4/S220/wwriters+pen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999506100321621625.post-2088184233677581386</id><published>2011-02-24T19:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-06-07T20:21:51.812-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Grinch</title><content type='html'>We've all heard the story of the Grinch&lt;div&gt;When I was young, I used to think this guy was just plain stupid!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I mean, he gets all these toys and rather than make himself some dough&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He grows a heart and gives them back to the kids&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I mean how lame!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But then a friend told me a story years back&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;About the richest man in the world&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He's old, crippled and weathered&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He spends his days counting all his gold&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Coin for coin, daily, to make sure they are all there&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He spends his day polishing them, inspecting them&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My friend explains, the old man is the richest man in the world&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Because he's the last living person &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And so he's got all the money in the world&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But nothing to spend it on&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So he fills his days counting them and polishing them&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And I suddenly realized that the Grinch had an angle&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Return the toys, makes some friends, win some hearts&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;At no cost to himself, he was, I mean returning back what wasn't his&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And at the end of day, he gets a free meal, the joy of good company&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And even some gifts for himself&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And at no cost to himself...my what an angle.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So here's to the Grinch, smartest green bastard I ever read of!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999506100321621625-2088184233677581386?l=removedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/2088184233677581386/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2011/02/grinch.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/2088184233677581386'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/2088184233677581386'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2011/02/grinch.html' title='The Grinch'/><author><name>Macy D'funk Labunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13039089024516834925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_x9tPRekJG6k/SZ4-9mX-wkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RWotkl-7Eg4/S220/wwriters+pen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999506100321621625.post-3094434904433765677</id><published>2011-02-24T19:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-24T20:04:21.594-08:00</updated><title type='text'>To Steve</title><content type='html'>I'm not a writer, I'm a fibber.&lt;div&gt;I spin meaningless tales to entertain &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In the hope of leaving a legacy, something, behind for anyone&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In the hope that when I'm gone&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Someone might remember me, think of me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Meet Steve, he's got the same idea as I, or is it me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Unlike me, he's got a regular 9 to 5&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Works hard, does his share of giving, his share of loving&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But for some reason, he doesn't feel fulfilled&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In his mind, there has to be more to life&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So he searches for that greater meaning&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That something that defines him, distinguishes from the rest of world&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Be it a Nobel prize, an Oscar, a Grammy, a Pulitzer, hell even a community award&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He's been searching for years, and at this point, no offence, he'll take a bloggers award.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Just something to give his mundane life a purpose&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Everyday for the past 5 years, he walks into the same coffee shop&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Buys a muffin and a latte, smiles at the girl at the counter and cracks a funny&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;To her, in her little world, these are the best twelve minutes of her day&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Seeing him smile and listening to his voice&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He's her reason for waking up in the morning&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And her reason for pressing on each day&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But poor  Steve doesn't see this in his search for meaning&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And as she fights the cancer thats killing her&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Her only reason to see his smile,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He misses the fact that he's her hero, her world&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That to her, his impact on her, gives her the strength she needs&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's to easy to miss the things that matter&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A warm beer with friends, a smile from a someone that loves us&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A kind word.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What are all the awards in the world, without someone to share them with&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What's the use of a legacy, without someone to leave it to&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's the little wins that matter, we all have an impact on someone&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And to someone, we are all that matter&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And just making their day, making them smile&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Beats any award any man can offer&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But poor Steve slaves on, unfulfilled&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oblivious that his very smile, saves a life each day&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A life that could go on to save another, and that life another&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That may give birth to the future leader that ends world hunger&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;An accomplishment dear Steve remains oblivious to&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Till his dying day...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oblivious that his smile&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999506100321621625-3094434904433765677?l=removedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/3094434904433765677/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2011/02/to-steve.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/3094434904433765677'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/3094434904433765677'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2011/02/to-steve.html' title='To Steve'/><author><name>Macy D'funk Labunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13039089024516834925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_x9tPRekJG6k/SZ4-9mX-wkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RWotkl-7Eg4/S220/wwriters+pen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999506100321621625.post-4878184377641003418</id><published>2011-02-13T19:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-13T19:37:21.778-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Pet</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;You walk into a room like air slipping into a vacuum&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;For all those asphyxiated lungs to breathe&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;And shockingly you don’t realise that’s the effect you have on me&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;And on everyone else who has the chance to spend time with you&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I’ve learnt you cannot choose the way people make you feel&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Or the effect they have on you when they leave&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;You may choose to dull your emotions with alcohol or reasoning&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;But in the end it doesn’t change how you feel&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;So it’s better to learn to appreciate the moments&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;You get to spend with those you enjoy&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;And if you surround yourself with all those kinds of people&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;So I want to surround myself with you&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;And seeing as these feelings are never shared with many&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I want to take my time in sharing them with you&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;And when they ask in years to come, the reason and motivation for who I am&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I swear my dear the answer is you.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;And I know you’ll never understand the reason why I love you&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Just like I can’t figure out why you love me&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I’m just glad I met you and got to be with you &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;And wait for the moment you say...I do.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999506100321621625-4878184377641003418?l=removedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/4878184377641003418/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2011/02/my-pet.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/4878184377641003418'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/4878184377641003418'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2011/02/my-pet.html' title='My Pet'/><author><name>Macy D'funk Labunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13039089024516834925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_x9tPRekJG6k/SZ4-9mX-wkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RWotkl-7Eg4/S220/wwriters+pen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999506100321621625.post-2642503596378550545</id><published>2011-01-23T15:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-23T15:29:39.153-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Wudan Monk</title><content type='html'>I'll turn into a stone bridge, endure a 1000 years of rain, 1000 years of wind, 1000 years of snow just for the hope that someday you might cross my path&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999506100321621625-2642503596378550545?l=removedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/2642503596378550545/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2011/01/wudan-monk.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/2642503596378550545'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/2642503596378550545'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2011/01/wudan-monk.html' title='Wudan Monk'/><author><name>Macy D'funk Labunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13039089024516834925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_x9tPRekJG6k/SZ4-9mX-wkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RWotkl-7Eg4/S220/wwriters+pen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999506100321621625.post-1879105277492215084</id><published>2011-01-21T16:17:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-21T16:17:42.767-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Question the Answers</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Forget about the questions, it’s the answers that keep me awake at night&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Cos’ if the answers are solutions&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Solutions to the issues bring conclusions to the problem&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Meaning after the answers there’s nothing left to do&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;So if you are my answer to all of life’s questions&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;You see my dilemma dear&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;So let’s have a fight or two&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;So i can conjure up ways to make up with you&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;And let the fear that I might not wake up next to you&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Motivate me to find more ways of pleasing you&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;So even if my answer is always you&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The question becomes ways of loving you&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Even though I may not have to prove to you&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The way I feel about you&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I want to make sure when the life is through&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I’m sure I ended it with you&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;With a smile on your face&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Your answer still being me, too&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999506100321621625-1879105277492215084?l=removedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/1879105277492215084/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2011/01/question-answers.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/1879105277492215084'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/1879105277492215084'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2011/01/question-answers.html' title='Question the Answers'/><author><name>Macy D'funk Labunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13039089024516834925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_x9tPRekJG6k/SZ4-9mX-wkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RWotkl-7Eg4/S220/wwriters+pen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999506100321621625.post-4332440910279524359</id><published>2011-01-21T16:16:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-21T16:16:54.516-08:00</updated><title type='text'>...</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Let’s call a spade a spoon&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Let’s dabble around with words so eloquently&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Let’s call these caricatures, toons&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;And mask the way we feel with words that have no meaning&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;We can retreat to dreams and ambitions&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Then evaluate our lives on words unspoken by others&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Let’s take breaks from our lives and selves&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;And find meaning in little fistfuls of air&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;And in the end you’ll grow and become happy&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;While we try to connect the dots on how that became&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;And I’ll sit and write your life’s parody&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Filled with all the things you were to scared to play&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The easy route has always been best traveled&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;So why would our lives be any different&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;And as a gift of your life’s accomplishment&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I’ll do the one thing you always dreamt to do&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I’ll break my own heart into a thousand pieces&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family:&amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;mso-ansi-language:EN-CA;mso-fareast-language: EN-US;mso-bidi-language:AR-SA"&gt;And baby you won’t feel a thing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999506100321621625-4332440910279524359?l=removedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/4332440910279524359/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2011/01/blog-post.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/4332440910279524359'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/4332440910279524359'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2011/01/blog-post.html' title='...'/><author><name>Macy D'funk Labunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13039089024516834925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_x9tPRekJG6k/SZ4-9mX-wkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RWotkl-7Eg4/S220/wwriters+pen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999506100321621625.post-8899445031854664308</id><published>2010-12-28T17:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-29T08:15:04.632-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Unfinished...</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;When I examine the thoughts in my head&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Only one though rings constant and true&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;An idea that throbs and fuels me&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;That wakes and comforts me, soothes me&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;That thought is you&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;And when I dig for the reasons I feel this way, here is what I find&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Being with you is the only reason I look forward to waking up every morning&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Taking care of you has been my drive to work harder and succeed&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Listening to your ills and troubles fuels my resolve to be there for you always&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Every morning I strive to be a better man to somehow try and live up the an expectation worthy of you&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The only joy I have in sharing is the ecstasy in your voice when you receive something you really want&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Spent a life time making other people happy only to realize the only one that makes me happy is you&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;It still amazes me how I can always smell and taste the sweat running down your skin&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Or how hearing your voice drowns me in so much emotion I never know how best to react&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I still spend hours on end staring at your pictures, wishing I was staring at you&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Knowing no place on earth could ever feel more like home than your arms&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;What I wouldn't sacrifice to be kissing you right now still remains a mystery to me&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;If only you could catch a glimpse of the way I see you or how much you mean to me&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Being denied time with you, is a slow poison too hard to swallow&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;And it shames me when others are there to be with you when those moments I cannot share&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;It scares me because deep inside I know I might not end up with you&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Or be the one who calms the turbulent sea that lies within you&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;And even though this cross I bear, I hold on dearly to those moments shared.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;It hurts me that you feel you add nothing to my life, you are my life... my world&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;There's not a day that goes by that the thought of you doesn't motivate me or build me up&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I would never admit this but I could never live in a world devoid of you&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;My only solace is knowing no one will ever read this, you never see this&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I could never live with the rejection, if you knew what you do to me&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999506100321621625-8899445031854664308?l=removedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/8899445031854664308/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2010/12/unfinished.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/8899445031854664308'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/8899445031854664308'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2010/12/unfinished.html' title='Unfinished...'/><author><name>Macy D'funk Labunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13039089024516834925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_x9tPRekJG6k/SZ4-9mX-wkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RWotkl-7Eg4/S220/wwriters+pen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999506100321621625.post-2506600832484443168</id><published>2010-11-28T18:26:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-28T18:26:42.811-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Trunk of a Car</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Lying in the trunk of this car, thinking of all the things I’ve done&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The moments that lead to this and the decisions they ushered from&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The forces in my life have been my strength and my destruction&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The forces that drive me through need no real introduction&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;She was seventeen, young and lean&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Looking like a beauty queen&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Smart and witty, strong and gritty&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Adventurous with just the right amount of needy&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The first time I saw her, it was like angels sung to me&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;And all I could see and hear was made up of symphony&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;She would mean the world to me&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;And that’s all she has grown to be&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;And I knew then what I know now&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I would do anything to bring her every desire to fruition some how&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;And I tried but there’s just so much a bum like me can do&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;And no matter what I did, it felt like there was no pleasing you&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;And then it hit me, one big score, one simple gig to even the plane&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;But all of my associates told me I was insane&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;But then I found a crew willing to do what a man needs to do&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;To provide for his family, the way a man ought to&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;We hit the casino at a quarter to five&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;It didn’t go down as expected but we didn’t take any lives&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;But there was blood split and the wrong people got hurt&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Back then they just seemed like causalities as long as we didn’t get caught&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Or so we thought but that quickly changed as they days went past&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;And we realised we had to get out of town fast&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;No plan is perfect and word went around&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Our names were mentioned and so people had to go to the ground&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Bobby got hit; Mike was wacked not too long after, Joey didn’t get as far&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;And me, me, I’m in the trunk of this car&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;But it’s all gone as I expected, according to the plan in my head&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;They’ll never find all the money, she’d find what’s left and forge ahead&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Through torture and pain, I’d tell all they need to know&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;They’d get most of the money and the guys that pulled the show&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;She’ll disappear somewhere with the bag in the sofa &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Start a new life there, with the arrangements I made, she’d never have to suffer&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I had it all planned out with the thoughts in my head&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;But then it’s funny the things you think of when you dead&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;They say you get a clear glimpse of things&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;And here I did finally putting together all of the strings&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;It was never the money nor the material things she wanted&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Not the car, gadgets or jewellery that to her was flaunted&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;It was me home, at hours when she was awake&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Doing stuff with me in activities that couples partake&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;It was just my time and love that she enjoyed the best&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The things I denied her while putting material things first&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;She returned the money; she wanted none of that blood on her hands&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;If I had only been a man and gotten with that 9 to 5 plan&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Now she’s alone crying in shadows feeling betrayed&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I can’t even hold her hand and apologise, I strayed&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;My best intentions to give everything she could dream&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;If only I had asked her, I woulda learnt I was that dream&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999506100321621625-2506600832484443168?l=removedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/2506600832484443168/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2010/11/trunk-of-car.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/2506600832484443168'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/2506600832484443168'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2010/11/trunk-of-car.html' title='Trunk of a Car'/><author><name>Macy D'funk Labunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13039089024516834925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_x9tPRekJG6k/SZ4-9mX-wkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RWotkl-7Eg4/S220/wwriters+pen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999506100321621625.post-4532322297005936415</id><published>2010-10-06T19:41:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-06T19:48:50.762-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Paradox</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;If they ever invent the time machine, it better be portable device &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;And if it’s in mass quantity and cheap enough, everyone will want one&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;But if they invented the time machine&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I could go back in time to the point it all went bad&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;And she left me and ended it&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I could fix everything, resolve the issues, be the man I shoulda been&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;But then what if she also went back in time to fix another relationship&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;One that happened before she met me&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Or some lovely lady I know decided it best to go back as well&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;To ensure that as I was getting dumped, that she be there to pick up the pieces&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Or my friends who thought she was no good for me&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Went back as well to ensure we never met&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;What a timeless mess that would be&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Now remember that you travelling back in time and not transversing space&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;So the location you are now is where you’ll end up then&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Now wouldn’t it be an expensive trip if you still have to travel to where you need to be&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;So if you travel back in time and where you are now, &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;At the time you arrive just might have been a busy highway&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Or per chance you transport into a locked bedroom &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Of two 80 year old ladies jerking off to a dominatrix porno&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;What if you took a recent discovery of your time&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;And went back to the past to claim that it was yours&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;But when you get then, the technological knowhow or understanding&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Was not available to develop it, wouldn’t that be a waste of time&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Or if you by the time you got back to the past&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Some other zealot fellow had gone further&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;And had already laid claimed to the same discovery&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;What if I went back into the past to rob a bank I used to work at?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Arrived at the time only to find another set of employees&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Who have traveled back trying to pull the same stunt as me?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;We get into a shootout and I end up dead&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;A DNA test is done on me to identify the criminal&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;And my obituary announced on TV in a bank job gone wrong&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;While the me, in the past is vacationing somewhere.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;What if I went back to the past and got the ‘me’ in the past killed&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;That would mean that me in the future would cease to exist&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;But then if I died in the past, then the me in the future never existed&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;So how the heck did I travel back to the past and get myself dead?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Now isn’t time travel just so confusing....&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Keep traveling into the future, leave the past behind...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999506100321621625-4532322297005936415?l=removedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/4532322297005936415/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2010/10/paradox.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/4532322297005936415'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/4532322297005936415'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2010/10/paradox.html' title='Paradox'/><author><name>Macy D'funk Labunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13039089024516834925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_x9tPRekJG6k/SZ4-9mX-wkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RWotkl-7Eg4/S220/wwriters+pen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999506100321621625.post-3235431888590819352</id><published>2010-10-04T21:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-04T21:09:47.275-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Thorns and Roses</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;For every time we break up, I promise myself this time I’ll let go&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;But there like clockwork I’m sending you another mail, saying we need to talk&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I try my best to stay away, but the days are more miserable without you than they are alone&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I hate the way you make me feel small, when you snap at me on your moody days&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;They make me withdraw into a depressed shell, I find hard to get out off&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;But in myself destructive ways, even those days beat seconds without you&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I know, you know how much I love you and how into you I am&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Your belief in me, made me the man I am&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Your sticking by me made my days worth the while&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Being able to share the tiniest things with you, for the longest while, was the only reason i am here&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I hate how your crappy moody days can bring me so down&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;And I hate how helpless they make me feel&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;If I can find a way to bring you out of them&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Maybe then I can find a point to life&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;What’s life without pain, joy without the possibility of sorrow?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I’m resigned to the fact that it’s the people we love the most&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;That have the greatest capability to hurt us&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;And as my feelings for you could never change&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I guess I’ll endure this balance between pleasure and pain&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Till I can a way to murder all your crappy days. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999506100321621625-3235431888590819352?l=removedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/3235431888590819352/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2010/10/thorns-and-roses.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/3235431888590819352'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/3235431888590819352'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2010/10/thorns-and-roses.html' title='Thorns and Roses'/><author><name>Macy D'funk Labunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13039089024516834925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_x9tPRekJG6k/SZ4-9mX-wkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RWotkl-7Eg4/S220/wwriters+pen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999506100321621625.post-2686417104181838379</id><published>2010-07-13T18:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-13T18:18:15.205-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Marriage Tales</title><content type='html'>At nineteen my father told me the story that ensured that I never looked at my mum the same way. It happened way before I was born and is basically the reason my father always did what my mum asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My father had just inherited a summer house from his dead grandpa and my mum decided that was what she wanted as her birthday present, so she ‘nicely’ asked my father to sign over the deed to her. Naturally my father didn’t take her seriously and refused vehemently. Well that night my father gets home to a world class dinner, all his favorites carefully prepared and set down just for him. Thinking my mum was just trying to buy her way to the deed, my father wined and dined on what he still says was one of the best meals of his life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After dinner she takes him up to the bedroom, undresses him and gives him a good bath. She then proceeds to give him a soothing massage during which she handcuffs his hands and legs to the bed. At this point he tells me he was really feeling bad about having to still refuse her request after all this effort. The house had been in his family for years, a cherished childhood retreat and here my mum wanted the house so she could give it away to her bum brother who even now still can’t keep down a job nor his liquor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then it happened, right after she had his legs cuffed, she stopped dead in her tracks, looked him dead in the eyes and asked him one last time if he would give her house, feeling as bad as a man could possibly feel, my father denied her for the last time. She rolled off him, sat at the end of the bed and lit a cigarette; my father had never seen my mum smoke before then. He smiled, knowing it was going to be a standoff, thinking he sleep it off, but then the southern uprising began. It was then my mother slyly displayed the empty bottle of aphrodisiacs. The color drained from his face as he watched her walk over to the television set to begin playing a porno.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well my dad fought the good fight but alas he gave in after an hour or two or so he says. That’s how my mum got the deed of the house and that’s why my father hardly, if ever, said no to my mother as long as she lived.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999506100321621625-2686417104181838379?l=removedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/2686417104181838379/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2010/07/at-nineteen-my-father-told-me-story.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/2686417104181838379'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/2686417104181838379'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2010/07/at-nineteen-my-father-told-me-story.html' title='Marriage Tales'/><author><name>Macy D'funk Labunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13039089024516834925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_x9tPRekJG6k/SZ4-9mX-wkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RWotkl-7Eg4/S220/wwriters+pen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999506100321621625.post-2171430713764755987</id><published>2010-06-11T17:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-11T17:31:10.585-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Always Trust The Gene Genie</title><content type='html'>Dude, it was like something out of a ‘Back to the future’ movie, least for me it was.  I mean man, it’s not every day you have a guy pop out of nowhere trying to convince you that he’s from the future and that you need to go with him. He wasn’t dressed like he was from the future, not like I know what they’d be wearing in some odd forty years from now. He played the part convincingly though; he knew everything about me, so it was hard to just dismiss this as some whack job off the street playing a prank.  Not like I had any friends who’d go through these lengths to try play a prank on me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just when I thought it couldn’t get any weirder dude says the oddest thing, no, no, no not ‘come with me if you want to live’, I mean if he’d said that it wouldn’t have struck me as odd, it’d have just made me laugh my arse off.   But honestly I half expected him to say that, but no, he went all Uncle Sam on me with the future needs you route. I mean this felt straight out of a Tales of the Unknown comic book. But before I could protestor even consider screaming for help, cause dude I was really feeling right unsave about then, whoosh, bright lights, strange body sensations and then suddenly I’m in strange surroundings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well at first I’m thinking I’d just been hit on the head to hard and I was cold stone out in some delusional dream. Heck I still do, but everything feels so real and if I haven’t woken up already then I must be in some funky coma.  Anyhow when I could finally get my head right and take a look around me, not much had changed, least not the trees and major surroundings. I was beginning to feel all punked out but something in my head kept telling me ‘Dorothy, you’re not in Kansas anymore’. And then it hit me, it was the little things, posters on the walls, weapons the cops were carrying, the model cars people were driving, the slangs being used, I definitely wasn’t, least mentally, in my time any more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I watched the smile creep unto his face, wanting so desperately to wipe it off with a punch, it occurred to me there was one simple way to confirm all this, where and when I was.  I’d seen enough movies to know this; I asked him for some change, examined it and then went off to buy a paper. Well he hadn’t been taking me for a ride, other than to the future that is, some odd thirty or forty years into it. My head started spinning and I knew I had to sit down so we find a dinner and while I clear my head with a milkshake, he fills me on why the heck I’m here.&lt;br /&gt;Apparently he was serious, he did want me to save the future, the world had gone south and not the good south.  The story is that some years back a vibrant charmer gets into power with lovely promises of grandeur, why do people believe such crap. Well at first he delivers and ends up uniting the all the countries together, eliminating borders and nuclear war and makes everything peachy as he promised. But then, not too long ago something sets him off and dude snaps and just goes crazy making things unbearable. He starts murdering people, causing famine in areas, locking people up, using them for experiments all the things that make for a brutal oppressive dictator. He starts destroying everything that he had built and so the people rebelled, but they couldn’t touch him see, so the other powers that be decided to take him out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now this is where I come in because as it is, the me from my time is the only one that can do it as I’m the only one that can gain access to him in his fortress. Everyone else who could do it from their time and who would oppose him had been eliminated by you know who. That’s why they come to the past to get me. I can’t tell you the thoughts that ran through my head other than shit this is freaking confusing, giving me a headache and how it sucks that I was dead in the future probably killed by this jerk. Now as I was getting all righteously pissed that I was probably killed in my prime even , they refuse to give me details so as not to influence the future, blah blah, it hit me, mundane little old me who did nothing with my time but watch movies and play video games was finally motivated to actually do something worthwhile, stand up for something, I got killed for it, but hey. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yeah I agree to do this, just to avenge me of the future, my death shall not be in vain. And well for once in my life someone needs me, something needs me. Enough to go the mile to get me, plus hey I get to save the future, goes great on your resume. Now if only there was the girl I’d be getting at the end of this as well. I’d talk to him about that when I got back&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now he tells me my access key to the fortress is my DNA, and I’m, thinking typical, I’m gonna bleed whether I live through this or not. So I break into the fortress, gun in hand and somehow, I’d never understand get to where the dictator is. I’m already dreaming of all the newspaper headlines the next day with my name and if ‘hey baby I saved the future’ is a good pick up line at the bars. Anyways I open the door and right there in front of me is an older version of me.&lt;br /&gt;That’s when it hits me, that’s the reason I had the right DNA, I’d probably rigged the office to my DNA only. They brought me from the past to kill me in the future, talk about irony.  Now all the inner versions of me start running wild with personal thoughts like&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The religious catholic me: would this be technically suicide?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The moral me: do I hate the things I’ve done in the future so much to kill me for it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The practical me: couldn’t I just reason with myself to find out why I did this and talk me out of this destructive path&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The vain me: damn, I still look good in the future&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The egotistic me: hell yeah! I’m the guy in power, top dog! How cool is that? And my teachers said I’d amount to nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The conscience me: what is the future me thinking right now, what is he feeling? Does he think I am betraying me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The logical me: could the two me’s just strike a deal?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While the educated me tried his best to reconcile the best solution to this unusual problem. Now what would you do in my shoes?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well least to say, the greedy me won! So I shot future me and seized power. Then I had the guy who brought me to the future eliminated and took the time device, I mean, bring me to the future to kill myself. Now I transverse between being a bummer, move / gamer borderline junkie of the past and being the cool righteous get anything I want and still treat the people right, ruler of the world in the future. So much for time paradox!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999506100321621625-2171430713764755987?l=removedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/2171430713764755987/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2010/06/always-trust-gene-genie.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/2171430713764755987'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/2171430713764755987'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2010/06/always-trust-gene-genie.html' title='Always Trust The Gene Genie'/><author><name>Macy D'funk Labunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13039089024516834925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_x9tPRekJG6k/SZ4-9mX-wkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RWotkl-7Eg4/S220/wwriters+pen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999506100321621625.post-3446797972782796400</id><published>2010-05-26T16:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-26T16:20:00.874-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Me through your eyes</title><content type='html'>What do you see when you look at me?&lt;br /&gt;The man I am or the man you want me to be&lt;br /&gt;The man I was or the man I could be&lt;br /&gt;The man I want to be or the man I should be&lt;br /&gt;The man you need me to be or the man He made me to be&lt;br /&gt;A man flawed and uncertain or the man you admire&lt;br /&gt;A man you could grow to love or the man you do love&lt;br /&gt;A man whose needs overwhelm you or a man who lifts and inspires you&lt;br /&gt;A man you could make do with or a man you wouldn’t want to be without&lt;br /&gt;A father or a sperm donor&lt;br /&gt;A giver, supplimenting your needs, or a taker, draining life and love out of you&lt;br /&gt;A friend that could grow to be a lover&lt;br /&gt;A lover that could grow to be a friend&lt;br /&gt;A brother to call on and lean on&lt;br /&gt;Or a name you hold in detest and shame&lt;br /&gt;Do you see me for my flaws, who I am or who I could grow to be?&lt;br /&gt;As a man striving to constantly better himself, to improve&lt;br /&gt;Or a face wallowing in what once was&lt;br /&gt;Be my mirror; let me see myself through your eyes&lt;br /&gt;Tell me what you see when you look at me&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999506100321621625-3446797972782796400?l=removedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/3446797972782796400/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2010/05/me-through-your-eyes.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/3446797972782796400'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/3446797972782796400'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2010/05/me-through-your-eyes.html' title='Me through your eyes'/><author><name>Macy D'funk Labunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13039089024516834925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_x9tPRekJG6k/SZ4-9mX-wkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RWotkl-7Eg4/S220/wwriters+pen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999506100321621625.post-8394497384248502078</id><published>2010-05-20T21:43:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-20T21:43:37.032-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Itch</title><content type='html'>She didn’t have to say the words&lt;br /&gt;It was written in her eyes&lt;br /&gt;All he had to do was read the signs&lt;br /&gt;Only then he realized&lt;br /&gt;All the hurt that had transpired&lt;br /&gt;She had kept it all within&lt;br /&gt;Bore inside her personal sins&lt;br /&gt;She wore these just like a cross&lt;br /&gt;As the measure of the self she saw&lt;br /&gt;Watching all her flaws as a mirror&lt;br /&gt;Loosing herself to find redemption&lt;br /&gt;Till all her set backs became damnation&lt;br /&gt;And yet this fool loved her&lt;br /&gt;Ever willing for het to suffer&lt;br /&gt;While she solely believed she was incapable of this emotion&lt;br /&gt;Her vanity her only devotion&lt;br /&gt;Blind to see that till she truly loved herself&lt;br /&gt;She could never truly share that part of herself&lt;br /&gt;In her head he never met her requirements&lt;br /&gt;So irrelevant were his accomplishments&lt;br /&gt;And as shadows fall and graves get dug&lt;br /&gt;His dying wish the angels sing&lt;br /&gt;That she learn to forgive her past and pause&lt;br /&gt;To appreciate herself for whom she was&lt;br /&gt;To him she always would be incomplete&lt;br /&gt;Till she learnt to love her own feet&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999506100321621625-8394497384248502078?l=removedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/8394497384248502078/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2010/05/my-itch.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/8394497384248502078'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/8394497384248502078'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2010/05/my-itch.html' title='My Itch'/><author><name>Macy D'funk Labunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13039089024516834925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_x9tPRekJG6k/SZ4-9mX-wkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RWotkl-7Eg4/S220/wwriters+pen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999506100321621625.post-7221859196885007264</id><published>2010-05-17T16:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-18T21:10:47.378-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Arike mi</title><content type='html'>Life in itself is all to fleeting&lt;br /&gt;The moments that pass, they run so fast&lt;br /&gt;But if these worthless days are shared&lt;br /&gt;By a body worthy to be cared&lt;br /&gt;The microseconds seem to last&lt;br /&gt;So that every second we waste&lt;br /&gt;Makes the minutes we taste&lt;br /&gt;Appear so bland and chaste&lt;br /&gt;And there you stand out of six billion and more&lt;br /&gt;The solitary wind that directs my sails&lt;br /&gt;Through hail and storm leading me to your shore&lt;br /&gt;Life is a journey, I make my way through&lt;br /&gt;A passing guest at many hearts&lt;br /&gt;But the reason I kept moving&lt;br /&gt;Even when the roads where hard and rough&lt;br /&gt;The thought of coming home to you, gets me through.&lt;br /&gt;You are the best that I can be&lt;br /&gt;The highest accolade I could receive&lt;br /&gt;The more I learn the better I see&lt;br /&gt;You are the building blocks that make up me&lt;br /&gt;You are the answer to the questions&lt;br /&gt;I haven’t even thought of&lt;br /&gt;The reason I wake and why I dream&lt;br /&gt;You are the place I call home&lt;br /&gt;Where my heart returns at the end of the day&lt;br /&gt;The only reason I walk this road of life&lt;br /&gt;Is to return to you&lt;br /&gt;The times that we’re far apart&lt;br /&gt;Only make sense because of the times we have shared&lt;br /&gt;And I only make it through the days&lt;br /&gt;Because I dream of coming back to you&lt;br /&gt;Even if we don’t end up together&lt;br /&gt;And another place your heart ends&lt;br /&gt;I’ll still come home to you&lt;br /&gt;Every day I spend&lt;br /&gt;You’re my final destination&lt;br /&gt;And I always run home to you&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999506100321621625-7221859196885007264?l=removedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/7221859196885007264/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2010/05/arike-mi.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/7221859196885007264'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/7221859196885007264'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2010/05/arike-mi.html' title='Arike mi'/><author><name>Macy D'funk Labunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13039089024516834925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_x9tPRekJG6k/SZ4-9mX-wkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RWotkl-7Eg4/S220/wwriters+pen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999506100321621625.post-201917988437971303</id><published>2010-05-17T16:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-17T16:52:07.076-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Stolen Works</title><content type='html'>My inspiration wanes&lt;br /&gt;I’m lost in the pain&lt;br /&gt;I can hardly find a reason to breathe today&lt;br /&gt;Can’t afford the alcohol to drown my sorrows&lt;br /&gt;Here, I have lost the will to believe tomorrow&lt;br /&gt;I watch the people pass by, in their own little worlds&lt;br /&gt;I know they don’t see me, if they did they’d hurl&lt;br /&gt;My friends are worst than enemies, they judge and stare&lt;br /&gt;You would too when you read this, but I am beyond care&lt;br /&gt;What you can’t see is the darkness that lies within&lt;br /&gt;And the places it takes me with its numerous sins&lt;br /&gt;This pen is a gun and the ink is a bullet&lt;br /&gt;These words are my blood, gushing out from my gullet&lt;br /&gt;By the time this is done&lt;br /&gt;My life would be gone&lt;br /&gt;Your shaking heads will tilt in pity&lt;br /&gt;But your hearts won’t feel me&lt;br /&gt;And before the sun dawns I’ll be forgotten&lt;br /&gt;Just a faded thought, lost and rotten&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999506100321621625-201917988437971303?l=removedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/201917988437971303/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2010/05/stolen-works.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/201917988437971303'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/201917988437971303'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2010/05/stolen-works.html' title='Stolen Works'/><author><name>Macy D'funk Labunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13039089024516834925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_x9tPRekJG6k/SZ4-9mX-wkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RWotkl-7Eg4/S220/wwriters+pen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999506100321621625.post-1871268205629471972</id><published>2010-04-26T17:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-26T17:07:07.527-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Best Enemy</title><content type='html'>Quite recently, I’ve come to the thinking that the that people we come across play an important role at every point in our lives. It’s not an easy concept to explain, but I come to believe that we meet people for a reason, that at the point in time that we meet them, they play a role in whom we are then and who we could become later on. I know loads of people would disagree with this, but consider that even while watching a movie, an extra just walking by could have a top, shirt or pair of shoes that we like so much that we rush out and get ourselves something of the sort thereby influencing our fashion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now the reason I mention this is cause of one my greatest inspirations, my best enemy. I've despised this guy for so long I can't remember a time I didn’t want to just kick his arse just for the sake of it. I've never really liked anything about this guy and when I found out that he wrote too, it only pushed me to write better. We've been competitors ever since, striving to better each other. I've stolen his work several times and I know he's wanted to kill me so many times for this it makes me smile. But then I read his works and it inspires me to better myself and I come to realize that I've grown as a writer not just cause of the encouragement of friends and admirers but the desire to top this arse. He's been a source of strength, inspiration, a thorn in my side and while I'll never admit this to him, I am the writer I am today because of him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thinking about this I've come to appreciate everyone I've ever come in contact with, the ex's that broke my heart, the friends that took advantage of me, the lost, people that have hurt me, despised me or tired to bring me down, because they have pushed me to excel and defined me in ways I can only come to appreciate now. They've inspired some of my best works. They've kept me in ideas and reasons to succeed and for this I thank them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I'm not saying hey, go find everyone that ever hurt you and give them a pat on the back for it, but the realization that they have not taken but added to who you are is truly empowering. Everyone has a lesson to teach you, if you are willing to learn. Everyone has a role to play in your life, no matter how minute and how inconsequential it may seem at the time. Even the bully, if you are willing to see it can inspire you, take Beethoven for example, if his father had not bullied him to music, the world would be less some beautiful music. History has spoken of many great artists that have been tormented by oppressive figures who they have found a way to overcome and have somehow influenced who they became.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now while I do not condone the acts of the hurtful, I appreciate their place in my life. I've learnt to be wiser, more loving, cautious and stronger in part due to these fine detractors of mine. In short, I would not be the man I am now, if not for them. So it dawns me that everyone I have ever met has added to who I am, everyone! They have molded me in some fashion sometimes for the better, sometimes for the worse, but they have inspired something in me, added to me. And so I realize that I have a lot to be thankful for, from this influence of others and the influence I, myself have on them. That as I am hurt, I will, in my fashion, hurt others, maybe inspiring and strengthening them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So to my best enemy, the man who has constantly pushed me, I say a big thank you for being you and for always being there. The arse and bastard that you are, an enemy worthy of envy, despised, admired and in some sick fashion, loved.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999506100321621625-1871268205629471972?l=removedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/1871268205629471972/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2010/04/my-best-enemy.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/1871268205629471972'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/1871268205629471972'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2010/04/my-best-enemy.html' title='My Best Enemy'/><author><name>Macy D'funk Labunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13039089024516834925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_x9tPRekJG6k/SZ4-9mX-wkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RWotkl-7Eg4/S220/wwriters+pen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999506100321621625.post-5297602891261795566</id><published>2010-04-15T09:30:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-15T12:52:53.610-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Guilty Pleasures</title><content type='html'>I was once a tasteful pleasure&lt;br /&gt;A desire there, when needed&lt;br /&gt;A friend on call&lt;br /&gt;An ear for troubles undergone&lt;br /&gt;A shoulder that was constantly sought.&lt;br /&gt;A fall from grace&lt;br /&gt;And suddenly things change&lt;br /&gt;The devils horns I have been adorned&lt;br /&gt;I am tired of being the one who brings out the worst in you&lt;br /&gt;Who makes you feel bad for doing the things you do&lt;br /&gt;I’m tired of making you feel guilty for coming to me when in need&lt;br /&gt;Even though you know I strive to be there for you&lt;br /&gt;I’m tired of being the one who has to understand you are a child&lt;br /&gt;And still have a lot of growing up to do&lt;br /&gt;I’m tired of being seen as overbearing&lt;br /&gt;Just because you feel I care too much&lt;br /&gt;I’m tired of being the one who has to lift you up and see you as a saint&lt;br /&gt;I’m tired of having to bear all your unfounded insecurities&lt;br /&gt;And your skewed view of crime and punishment&lt;br /&gt;I’m tired of having to understand your selfish ways and needs&lt;br /&gt;I’m tired of having to show you the good in you, when you refuse to see&lt;br /&gt;I’m tired of having to be the saint and adult, the sin and the sinner&lt;br /&gt;I’m tired of how your problems overwhelm you, so that nothing else seems to matter&lt;br /&gt;I’m tired of your nonchalant words, spoken in vile disrespect&lt;br /&gt;While explaining what I feel and see, isn’t what is&lt;br /&gt;I’m tired of hearing about your insecurities, knowing they are childish and vain&lt;br /&gt;And the fact that you refuse to open your heart and mind moves me to pity&lt;br /&gt;And how you complain about needing to learn how to love&lt;br /&gt;When you refuse to see all the love around you, showered on you&lt;br /&gt;I am tired of seeing all you could be, while you stay blind to it&lt;br /&gt;I’m tired of being your crutch, while you refuse to acknowledge I might need one as well&lt;br /&gt;I’m tired of your standards and how you refuse to bend&lt;br /&gt;Of how you willing give the best of yourself to others&lt;br /&gt;But I get the short end of the stick&lt;br /&gt;I’m tired of you getting upset that I feel this way&lt;br /&gt;When your actions tell the score&lt;br /&gt;Of you making everything about you&lt;br /&gt;While I am constantly denied&lt;br /&gt;I’m tired of being your guilty pleasure&lt;br /&gt;And for feeling bad that I want more.&lt;br /&gt;And so this guilty pleasure promises to be sweet no more&lt;br /&gt;And with vile intent, to act he part that you have written&lt;br /&gt;To find the door and seal it shut&lt;br /&gt;So you needn't find a way in any more&lt;br /&gt;To access this guilty pleasure&lt;br /&gt;That you never really needed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999506100321621625-5297602891261795566?l=removedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/5297602891261795566/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2010/04/guilty-pleasures.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/5297602891261795566'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/5297602891261795566'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2010/04/guilty-pleasures.html' title='Guilty Pleasures'/><author><name>Macy D'funk Labunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13039089024516834925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_x9tPRekJG6k/SZ4-9mX-wkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RWotkl-7Eg4/S220/wwriters+pen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999506100321621625.post-6126459625744297086</id><published>2010-03-05T18:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-05T18:40:28.898-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Words</title><content type='html'>When poets fall in love&lt;br /&gt;Words become arrows aimed for the heart&lt;br /&gt;Verses become scented roses and boxes of chocolates&lt;br /&gt;Letters become diamond rings and expensive gifts&lt;br /&gt;Their voices become like opium and intoxicating wine&lt;br /&gt;Blinding their prey to whatever reality that may&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But when they are vexed&lt;br /&gt;Words become daggers aimed at the soul&lt;br /&gt;Verses become skilled assassins of character&lt;br /&gt;Their voices utter an army of harmful intent&lt;br /&gt;With immortally damaging blows to the object of their wrath&lt;br /&gt;They become as deadly as women scorned&lt;br /&gt;Ten times so, if a she be the vexed composer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And yet our greatest deeds are best related in sonnets and prose&lt;br /&gt;And our stories best told by he who holds our imagination&lt;br /&gt;Such that our history is written not by men of action&lt;br /&gt;But by he who would sing the tales of their deeds&lt;br /&gt;Those who would remember us in whatever light they may&lt;br /&gt;And thus mold our history to whatever machinations they may fancy&lt;br /&gt;Fair warning then friends&lt;br /&gt;Vex not the master of words&lt;br /&gt;Least he be asked to pen your tale&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are only as great as those that would tell our stories&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999506100321621625-6126459625744297086?l=removedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/6126459625744297086/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2010/03/words.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/6126459625744297086'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/6126459625744297086'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2010/03/words.html' title='Words'/><author><name>Macy D'funk Labunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13039089024516834925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_x9tPRekJG6k/SZ4-9mX-wkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RWotkl-7Eg4/S220/wwriters+pen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999506100321621625.post-7777937083609596435</id><published>2010-02-19T20:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-19T20:18:55.129-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Inspire Me</title><content type='html'>Brand me a thief, label me your liar&lt;br /&gt;Burn me with the vilest names that your heart desire&lt;br /&gt;Scream songs of my faults till the heavens burn heavy and noir&lt;br /&gt;Sting me with the insults left for murders and traitors&lt;br /&gt;With the darkest emotions I rear inside of you&lt;br /&gt;Preach door to door of every vile deed bearing my name on cue&lt;br /&gt;Instilling in the heavens the craving to reject my soul&lt;br /&gt;Rain down every curse your soul can bear in whole&lt;br /&gt;On my character, person and on my soul&lt;br /&gt;Yet I’m still standing, I’m still here&lt;br /&gt;And at your darkest, when your heart is heavy and your soul is broken and no one can hear&lt;br /&gt;When you’re at your lowest time of need&lt;br /&gt;You find me, knowing you can always depend on me to help you breathe&lt;br /&gt;That I’ll always be there, your constant tower of solace&lt;br /&gt;The drug you can take to help you focus&lt;br /&gt;Knowing whatever life you live and breathe&lt;br /&gt;You will always suffer me&lt;br /&gt;As my burning effect, good or bad, will always be there in your life&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999506100321621625-7777937083609596435?l=removedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/7777937083609596435/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2010/02/inspire-me.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/7777937083609596435'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/7777937083609596435'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2010/02/inspire-me.html' title='Inspire Me'/><author><name>Macy D'funk Labunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13039089024516834925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_x9tPRekJG6k/SZ4-9mX-wkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RWotkl-7Eg4/S220/wwriters+pen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999506100321621625.post-3526424182674902794</id><published>2010-02-09T23:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-09T23:55:10.025-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Silly Nonesense</title><content type='html'>Here, the thoughts that go on swimming in my head&lt;br /&gt;Of how I won’t get to heaven when I am dead&lt;br /&gt;Stuck down here with these drugs instead&lt;br /&gt;With all the hate that I’ve been fed&lt;br /&gt;From all of the girls I did not wed&lt;br /&gt;And there they wonder why I pop these pills&lt;br /&gt;It’s  just for the way they make me feel&lt;br /&gt;While yet keeping me functional still&lt;br /&gt;3 days and running with no sleep&lt;br /&gt;Living simply on coffee and self medication&lt;br /&gt;With no need for food to fuel my condition&lt;br /&gt;Watching my grades get better without fault&lt;br /&gt;So now I’m convinced there’s no reason to halt&lt;br /&gt;As the drugs keep me focused on the things I ought&lt;br /&gt;Helping me to forget the things I am not&lt;br /&gt;Unlike people, who always find me short&lt;br /&gt;They keep me numb and carefree&lt;br /&gt;While I lose everyone that meant everything to me&lt;br /&gt;Why is it geniuses always end up empty?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999506100321621625-3526424182674902794?l=removedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/3526424182674902794/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2010/02/silly-nonesense.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/3526424182674902794'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/3526424182674902794'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2010/02/silly-nonesense.html' title='Silly Nonesense'/><author><name>Macy D'funk Labunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13039089024516834925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_x9tPRekJG6k/SZ4-9mX-wkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RWotkl-7Eg4/S220/wwriters+pen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999506100321621625.post-873879394077748992</id><published>2010-02-09T23:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-10T00:29:14.630-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ramblings: One more lie</title><content type='html'>I stand here labled a liar and a thief&lt;br /&gt;Whose only profession is to spread misery and grief&lt;br /&gt;As such I promise to be swift&lt;br /&gt;If you'll indulge me this one more lie I need to steal&lt;br /&gt;A lie to make you understand how I truly feel&lt;br /&gt;A lie that would finally explain me&lt;br /&gt;A lie to set you free&lt;br /&gt;So forgive me this lie, the next and the one after&lt;br /&gt;While you watch me lie my heart away&lt;br /&gt;Some how hoping you find peace in the words I say&lt;br /&gt;As I tell you I’ll be alright and there’s no need to worry&lt;br /&gt;That I need you to understand that all I want is for you to be happy&lt;br /&gt;And that it doesn’t matter who you’re happy with&lt;br /&gt;That my love is unconditional to my last breath&lt;br /&gt;It doesn’t matter if it’s not returned&lt;br /&gt;That all my hopes and dreams have not been forever burnt&lt;br /&gt;That this heart you’re walking on now, can never be broken&lt;br /&gt;That I’m stronger than you think, even when you're the one walking&lt;br /&gt;That I’ll love hearing from you&lt;br /&gt;And I don't really need to know you're okay to make it through&lt;br /&gt;It won’t kill me inside every moment you with him&lt;br /&gt;And that you didn’t have me walking with the dead, when you told me that you loved him&lt;br /&gt;That I’ll move on and let go of you&lt;br /&gt;Never hoping that you’d come back running to&lt;br /&gt;That I won’t wake up constantly in a cold sweat, lost and confused&lt;br /&gt;Possessed by dreams filled with you&lt;br /&gt;That I won’t spend days not wanting to get out of bed&lt;br /&gt;Wishing every sort of illness on myself in my head&lt;br /&gt;That I won’t spend time listening to outdated love songs&lt;br /&gt;Imaging singing them to you all day long&lt;br /&gt;Reminiscing of the times you moaned my name&lt;br /&gt;I won’t remind you of what we had nor what once was cupids aim&lt;br /&gt;Of how every time you asked, I came back to you&lt;br /&gt;And even when I faltered my heart stayed true&lt;br /&gt;I won’t be pretending when you call that all is well&lt;br /&gt;I would never be caught holding back tears nor exposing you to my living hell&lt;br /&gt;I am a man, I need these lies&lt;br /&gt;But I share them to you to make it easy for you&lt;br /&gt;So walk away my love, to the man you love&lt;br /&gt;I won’t be wishing he were me&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999506100321621625-873879394077748992?l=removedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/873879394077748992/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2010/02/ramblings-one-more-lie.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/873879394077748992'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/873879394077748992'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2010/02/ramblings-one-more-lie.html' title='Ramblings: One more lie'/><author><name>Macy D'funk Labunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13039089024516834925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_x9tPRekJG6k/SZ4-9mX-wkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RWotkl-7Eg4/S220/wwriters+pen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999506100321621625.post-8525459797860082059</id><published>2010-01-31T18:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-01T07:34:31.514-08:00</updated><title type='text'>All the things I've been</title><content type='html'>Been the husband, the friend, the lover,&lt;br /&gt;yet I’ve never worn a ring&lt;br /&gt;been the brother, the father and crutch&lt;br /&gt;yet I never had kids&lt;br /&gt;been the giver, the provider and priest&lt;br /&gt;wonder why I never learnt to receive&lt;br /&gt;been the hero, the villain, the godsend&lt;br /&gt;yet the devil bears all his marks on me&lt;br /&gt;been the artist, the channel, the saint&lt;br /&gt;yet salvation lies far from reach&lt;br /&gt;been your strength, your weakness, your fix&lt;br /&gt;yet I never understood the power within me&lt;br /&gt;been the sinner, the sin, the temptation&lt;br /&gt;seems forbidden is all I was meant to be&lt;br /&gt;been the devil, the victim, the curse&lt;br /&gt;all the talent that lies within me&lt;br /&gt;been your everything, your love, your meaning&lt;br /&gt;yet in the end I always mean nothing&lt;br /&gt;been the present, the past, the forgotten&lt;br /&gt;yet the future I never seem to be&lt;br /&gt;the beginning and the end&lt;br /&gt;the final page I always see&lt;br /&gt;the path of Dante I forever seek&lt;br /&gt;till the wings of Icarus come to save me&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999506100321621625-8525459797860082059?l=removedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/8525459797860082059/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2010/01/all-things-ive-been.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/8525459797860082059'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/8525459797860082059'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2010/01/all-things-ive-been.html' title='All the things I&apos;ve been'/><author><name>Macy D'funk Labunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13039089024516834925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_x9tPRekJG6k/SZ4-9mX-wkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RWotkl-7Eg4/S220/wwriters+pen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999506100321621625.post-4033207894860206632</id><published>2010-01-09T08:14:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-09T08:14:57.496-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Love is a drug</title><content type='html'>These emotions are like a drug&lt;br /&gt;Addictive in small doses&lt;br /&gt;Obscuring the mind from what really is&lt;br /&gt;And like every true addict you make excuses because of the way it makes you feel&lt;br /&gt;And no matter how bad the crash is&lt;br /&gt;We all come back for one more hit&lt;br /&gt;One more taste for that sweet feel&lt;br /&gt;With no regard for where this would lead&lt;br /&gt;While the world fuels this belief&lt;br /&gt;Making us feel odd and out of place for abhorring the addiction&lt;br /&gt;And so this condition is thus accepted as a norm&lt;br /&gt;But I am tired of the illusion&lt;br /&gt;Tired of trying to fit in&lt;br /&gt;And so I am in rehab&lt;br /&gt;So I can learn to be free&lt;br /&gt;From this drug called love&lt;br /&gt;That once ensnared me&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999506100321621625-4033207894860206632?l=removedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/4033207894860206632/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2010/01/love-is-drug.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/4033207894860206632'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/4033207894860206632'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2010/01/love-is-drug.html' title='Love is a drug'/><author><name>Macy D'funk Labunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13039089024516834925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_x9tPRekJG6k/SZ4-9mX-wkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RWotkl-7Eg4/S220/wwriters+pen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999506100321621625.post-4842401903360541787</id><published>2010-01-08T10:17:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-08T10:17:48.635-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fool that I am</title><content type='html'>My demons keep me comfort here&lt;br /&gt;Consumed by the company of all my past sins&lt;br /&gt;Here I dwell in the darkest regions of me&lt;br /&gt;Cast there by the ones who professed to save me&lt;br /&gt;They preached of love and all its comforts&lt;br /&gt;But look where love has led me&lt;br /&gt;To the filth of the darkness that lives within me&lt;br /&gt;To the pain and emptiness left only to demons and devils&lt;br /&gt;I believe in hell now, for I was cast from my ignorant heaven&lt;br /&gt;For the one classic sin that all men are doomed for&lt;br /&gt;I dared to love; I dared to share my heart&lt;br /&gt;And in the immortal fire of the abyss this has led me to&lt;br /&gt;Love is a demons trickery to ensnare the soul in gentle treachery&lt;br /&gt;It is the hang mans noose leading only to pain and suffering&lt;br /&gt;For you hurt the ones you love&lt;br /&gt;And the ones who love you eventually kiss you with the sweet blow of a demons torment and misery&lt;br /&gt;No man ever cried for hate or from the mortal blow of hates tender caress&lt;br /&gt;A vile creature this cupid be, for he shoots arrows meant to inflect mortal wounds&lt;br /&gt;And yet deranged creature that I am&lt;br /&gt;I still love, even when I have no heart to share&lt;br /&gt;With tears and ash, I still crave the warm feelings loves treachery would offer&lt;br /&gt;To see the sun bask against her face&lt;br /&gt;Her tender smile&lt;br /&gt;To bathe unashamedly in the knowledge that she is happy and loved&lt;br /&gt;Oh fool that I am&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999506100321621625-4842401903360541787?l=removedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/4842401903360541787/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2010/01/fool-that-i-am.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/4842401903360541787'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/4842401903360541787'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2010/01/fool-that-i-am.html' title='Fool that I am'/><author><name>Macy D'funk Labunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13039089024516834925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_x9tPRekJG6k/SZ4-9mX-wkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RWotkl-7Eg4/S220/wwriters+pen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999506100321621625.post-876111574024982025</id><published>2009-11-28T17:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-28T17:21:02.821-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dashboard Confessions Pt II</title><content type='html'>Now here's my take on it years later, lol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never felt this way before&lt;br /&gt;Never wanted anything more&lt;br /&gt;Want to tear the doors down&lt;br /&gt;And let her in on all my secrets&lt;br /&gt;Want to let her see under my skin&lt;br /&gt;Let her wear the clothes I’ve been in&lt;br /&gt;Let her spend time in my mind&lt;br /&gt;In the darkest corners that reside within&lt;br /&gt;But my fear is what she would see&lt;br /&gt;And how she would receive&lt;br /&gt;The man inside, she has never seen&lt;br /&gt;Would he repel her and make her flee&lt;br /&gt;Then the voices inside speak to me&lt;br /&gt;‘What’s there to tell that she will not see?&lt;br /&gt;If you love her so then don’t let her know&lt;br /&gt;It’s best for you to her show’  &lt;br /&gt;So on a clear blue night with the summer breeze&lt;br /&gt;I ask her out to come and meet me&lt;br /&gt;She arrived not a bit too early&lt;br /&gt;Called out my name, me being in the basement&lt;br /&gt;I asked her to come down and so she did&lt;br /&gt;To find me knife in hand, blood on fist&lt;br /&gt;With a stiff on the floor carved to bits&lt;br /&gt;‘This is who I am, I can’t fake it&lt;br /&gt;Thought you should know so asked you here to see it&lt;br /&gt;But before you say or do a thing&lt;br /&gt;I need you to know I love you more than anything&lt;br /&gt;Or anyone I’ve ever known&lt;br /&gt;And if you need me to let this go&lt;br /&gt;You’re the only one that can make it so’&lt;br /&gt;She looked into my eyes to see&lt;br /&gt;The savage desire that lay within me&lt;br /&gt;Tears rolling down her face&lt;br /&gt;She could take no more so turned away&lt;br /&gt;I couldn’t take it, this was a mistake&lt;br /&gt;And destroyed the only person I ever loved in my wake&lt;br /&gt;I moved to her slowly and turned her round&lt;br /&gt;Told her I loved her and apologized for letting her down&lt;br /&gt;I’d understand whatever action she’d take&lt;br /&gt;Whatever happened now, the consequences I’d face&lt;br /&gt;With tears and sobs she slipped the knife from my hands&lt;br /&gt;And very slowly turned around&lt;br /&gt;‘It’s alright baby’ was all she said&lt;br /&gt;As she placed the knife quite skillfully into my chest&lt;br /&gt;And with one swift blow she slit my throat&lt;br /&gt;As her savage laugh gargled from to meet my ears&lt;br /&gt;It suddenly became clear, only evil can love the evil men do&lt;br /&gt;As the voices whispered ‘you fell in love with someone just like you’&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999506100321621625-876111574024982025?l=removedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/876111574024982025/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2009/11/dashboard-confessions-pt-ii.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/876111574024982025'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/876111574024982025'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2009/11/dashboard-confessions-pt-ii.html' title='Dashboard Confessions Pt II'/><author><name>Macy D'funk Labunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13039089024516834925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_x9tPRekJG6k/SZ4-9mX-wkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RWotkl-7Eg4/S220/wwriters+pen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999506100321621625.post-5879395633378663383</id><published>2009-11-28T16:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-28T16:54:56.501-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dashboard confessions</title><content type='html'>Nostaligia, here's something I wrote a long long time ago. A bit edited though. Wanted to see how much I've grown.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh no, this wasn't my fault&lt;br /&gt;I'm wanted for murder again&lt;br /&gt;I met her on Friday&lt;br /&gt;I told her my history&lt;br /&gt;She told me she thought it was sexy&lt;br /&gt;And that if she kissed me&lt;br /&gt;She surely would want to see me again&lt;br /&gt;She called on a Sunday&lt;br /&gt;And said that she missed me&lt;br /&gt;Would I be her dear special friend?&lt;br /&gt;I thought it romantic&lt;br /&gt;No need for panic&lt;br /&gt;She said we'll be dinning real late&lt;br /&gt;She took me to the kitchen&lt;br /&gt;Where all the knives lay unhidden&lt;br /&gt;The voices start calling&lt;br /&gt;Their thoughts not so appalling&lt;br /&gt;I'm wanted for murder again&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh no, this wasn't my fault&lt;br /&gt;I'm wanted for murder again&lt;br /&gt;Was a dry day in December&lt;br /&gt;One I swear I'd remember&lt;br /&gt;It would make week since we met&lt;br /&gt;And to my surprise&lt;br /&gt;Things were still wild&lt;br /&gt;I felt I’ll be keeping this friend&lt;br /&gt;To mark this fair date&lt;br /&gt;We would meet at the dock by a crate&lt;br /&gt;But here I was late&lt;br /&gt;Could this all be fate?&lt;br /&gt;I caught her with another man&lt;br /&gt;She was holding his hand&lt;br /&gt;Laughing and smiling&lt;br /&gt;The voices come calling again&lt;br /&gt;And before she could explain&lt;br /&gt;And introduce me to her father by name&lt;br /&gt;I'm wanted for murder again&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh no, this wasn't my fault&lt;br /&gt;I'm wanted for murder again&lt;br /&gt;Just when I'm off women&lt;br /&gt;She came up beside me&lt;br /&gt;She just wanted to be a friend&lt;br /&gt;The voices were okay&lt;br /&gt;They thought this was healthy&lt;br /&gt;So we decided to let her to stay&lt;br /&gt;Few months we're still friendly&lt;br /&gt;And it was getting real trendy&lt;br /&gt;I decided to let her inside&lt;br /&gt;Told her all my secrets&lt;br /&gt;The voices upheld it&lt;br /&gt;I thought it went all very well&lt;br /&gt;But then she called in for backup&lt;br /&gt;And brought out the handcuffs&lt;br /&gt;Oh why did she want it to end&lt;br /&gt;The voices start screaming&lt;br /&gt;As they watch the blood streaming&lt;br /&gt;Now people are dying again&lt;br /&gt;Shit! I'm wanted for murder again!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999506100321621625-5879395633378663383?l=removedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/5879395633378663383/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2009/11/nostaligia-heres-something-i-wrote-long.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/5879395633378663383'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/5879395633378663383'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2009/11/nostaligia-heres-something-i-wrote-long.html' title='Dashboard confessions'/><author><name>Macy D'funk Labunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13039089024516834925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_x9tPRekJG6k/SZ4-9mX-wkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RWotkl-7Eg4/S220/wwriters+pen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999506100321621625.post-6777231239811145245</id><published>2009-11-19T15:40:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-19T15:40:30.183-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Things unsaid</title><content type='html'>I never told you I love you&lt;br /&gt;Even though it was always on my mind&lt;br /&gt;I let you go to easy&lt;br /&gt;I never showed you, you’re worth the fight&lt;br /&gt;And everyday I’ve wasted&lt;br /&gt;Since the day you’ve been gone&lt;br /&gt;Is another day I regret&lt;br /&gt;The things left unsaid&lt;br /&gt;And even though you’ve moved on&lt;br /&gt;And another man tasted&lt;br /&gt;I don’t mean to rock the boat&lt;br /&gt;That’s already sailed&lt;br /&gt;I just need to get this off my chest&lt;br /&gt;So I’ll say this now&lt;br /&gt;For every time I didn’t&lt;br /&gt;And for ever tear I caused you and myself&lt;br /&gt;With my broken heart&lt;br /&gt;And the soul I wasted&lt;br /&gt;I loved you then, now and ever&lt;br /&gt;with all the moments we coulda, shoulda, woulda and did share&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999506100321621625-6777231239811145245?l=removedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/6777231239811145245/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2009/11/things-unsaid.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/6777231239811145245'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/6777231239811145245'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2009/11/things-unsaid.html' title='Things unsaid'/><author><name>Macy D'funk Labunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13039089024516834925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_x9tPRekJG6k/SZ4-9mX-wkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RWotkl-7Eg4/S220/wwriters+pen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999506100321621625.post-7447584057482771215</id><published>2009-11-07T11:01:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-07T11:01:35.645-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Questions and Answers</title><content type='html'>She left me asking why&lt;br /&gt;Why did she have to leave?&lt;br /&gt;Why didn’t she want me?&lt;br /&gt;Why couldn’t I stop her?&lt;br /&gt;Why didn’t I have the right words?&lt;br /&gt;Why can’t I just let her be?&lt;br /&gt;Why can’t I let go?&lt;br /&gt;Why does the thought of her hurt so bad?&lt;br /&gt;Why do I want her back so bad?&lt;br /&gt;Why can’t I get to sleep?&lt;br /&gt;Why can’t I just move on?&lt;br /&gt;Why was it so easy for her?&lt;br /&gt;Why do I hate her in the mornings and yet miss her every night?&lt;br /&gt;Why don’t I have the answers to these questions?&lt;br /&gt;Or is the reason simply, there are just some questions deep inside I really don’t want to find the answers to.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999506100321621625-7447584057482771215?l=removedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/7447584057482771215/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2009/11/questions-and-answers.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/7447584057482771215'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/7447584057482771215'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2009/11/questions-and-answers.html' title='Questions and Answers'/><author><name>Macy D'funk Labunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13039089024516834925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_x9tPRekJG6k/SZ4-9mX-wkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RWotkl-7Eg4/S220/wwriters+pen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999506100321621625.post-6666467172188790537</id><published>2009-11-07T10:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-07T10:31:57.043-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Interesting Times</title><content type='html'>There’s an old Chinese curse that goes; 'may you live in interesting times', now that struck me as funny when I first heard it. That’s because I consider that I don't just live in interesting times, I live amongst interesting people as well. Case in point an experience I had not so long ago. You see a friend comes round to my place to supposedly say hello. Now I’ve known this guy for not too long but for that amount of time I’d say we’re pretty close. Anyways he comes into my house, takes a seat with his hands in his jacket, turns right to me and looks me dead in the eye. Then he proceeds to give me the most interesting factual speech I suspect I will ever hear, it goes like this&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘I’m sorry to bug you man, I really mean that, I know you got your own problems and shit but look man I’m broke. Dead broke, I don’t even have a dime to buy myself lunch; I had no illusions of breakfast. Now I can stick this out, least I think I can but the thing is now my mum’s now in the hospital in need of an operation and I can’t bloody afford it. I’m the only family she has and that woman has been good to me man, hell she’s been good to you; she’s been good to everyone. She’s a freaking saint and you know it. So I have to do something, you get that; I mean I am pretty desperate at this point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now it occurs to me that I have just two choices, either I take a loan from somewhere or someone or I gotta rob someone. Dude, I don’t own anything I can use as quadrilateral, I mean no house, no car, hell I don’t even own the bed I sleep on, so the banks are out for sure.  I just lost my job and you know how that went so that options out. My savings have gone into paying back the company for that little incident. So it’s down to robbing, sadly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dude, you’re the one person I trust and can always turn to and you know what they say man, you rob the people you know first! So I just thought before I pull this gun out of my jacket and go all crazy up in here, I’d just try asking you nicely first... Can you loan me $3000?’&lt;br /&gt;Now think about it, what could I say to that? I mean, even if I didn’t have the money he had laid down a pretty convincing plea and he did ask, ever so nicely...first!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999506100321621625-6666467172188790537?l=removedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/6666467172188790537/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2009/11/interesting-times.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/6666467172188790537'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/6666467172188790537'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2009/11/interesting-times.html' title='Interesting Times'/><author><name>Macy D'funk Labunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13039089024516834925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_x9tPRekJG6k/SZ4-9mX-wkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RWotkl-7Eg4/S220/wwriters+pen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999506100321621625.post-237535400815559889</id><published>2009-07-30T08:23:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-19T08:44:43.919-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>My cousin died just yesterday&lt;br /&gt;I take the blame&lt;br /&gt;I haven’t heard from him in years&lt;br /&gt;I take the blame&lt;br /&gt;No warm tales about him before or ever since&lt;br /&gt;I take the blame&lt;br /&gt;I haven't called his mother yet&lt;br /&gt;I take the blame&lt;br /&gt;I haven’t cried even though I want to&lt;br /&gt;I take the blame&lt;br /&gt;I never treated him with the love I held for him&lt;br /&gt;I take the blame&lt;br /&gt;I never granted his requests&lt;br /&gt;I take the blame&lt;br /&gt;I never said goodbye when I left&lt;br /&gt;I take the blame&lt;br /&gt;I haven’t mourned even though I need to&lt;br /&gt;I take the blame&lt;br /&gt;I’ve just gone on living, being strong for everyone else&lt;br /&gt;I take the blame&lt;br /&gt;My cousin died just yesterday&lt;br /&gt;Another name added to my list of dead loved ones&lt;br /&gt;Each as precocious as the next&lt;br /&gt;Each I never said goodbye too&lt;br /&gt;My cousin died just yesterday&lt;br /&gt;I take the blame&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999506100321621625-237535400815559889?l=removedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/237535400815559889/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2009/07/my-cousin-died-just-yesterday-i-take.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/237535400815559889'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/237535400815559889'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2009/07/my-cousin-died-just-yesterday-i-take.html' title=''/><author><name>Macy D'funk Labunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13039089024516834925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_x9tPRekJG6k/SZ4-9mX-wkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RWotkl-7Eg4/S220/wwriters+pen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999506100321621625.post-8294622739584727681</id><published>2009-07-30T08:04:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-19T08:42:25.868-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Gasoline</title><content type='html'>I’m going to burn this house down&lt;br /&gt;So nothing lives here any more&lt;br /&gt;Burn it all down to the seams&lt;br /&gt;So nothing here can even breathe&lt;br /&gt;I’ll burn it down while you sleep&lt;br /&gt;So that you won’t feel a thing&lt;br /&gt;You won’t hurt and you won’t bleed&lt;br /&gt;You’ll only loose what you don’t need&lt;br /&gt;Wake up pure and unfulfilled&lt;br /&gt;After I’ve burnt everything&lt;br /&gt;I’d be gone with all the rubble&lt;br /&gt;Out of your life with my all troubles&lt;br /&gt;I’m going to burn just what we mean&lt;br /&gt;Everything that’s you and me&lt;br /&gt;End it all with gasoline&lt;br /&gt;Let the heat cleanse the scenery&lt;br /&gt;Watch the smoke rise up eternally&lt;br /&gt;In ending you I’m ending me&lt;br /&gt;Maybe on the other side&lt;br /&gt;I’d find the peace that you with me, hides&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999506100321621625-8294622739584727681?l=removedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/8294622739584727681/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2009/07/gasoline.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/8294622739584727681'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/8294622739584727681'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2009/07/gasoline.html' title='Gasoline'/><author><name>Macy D'funk Labunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13039089024516834925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_x9tPRekJG6k/SZ4-9mX-wkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RWotkl-7Eg4/S220/wwriters+pen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999506100321621625.post-6106200230816467163</id><published>2009-07-29T09:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-29T09:27:15.418-07:00</updated><title type='text'>For the love of you</title><content type='html'>If I could take the pain away with alcohol,&lt;br /&gt;I swear I’d stay&lt;br /&gt;I’d never leave another day&lt;br /&gt;I’d brave the rain until it swayed&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just one more line and I’d be fine&lt;br /&gt;It’s the only way I can cope with your whine&lt;br /&gt;But what’s the point? You’d see the signs&lt;br /&gt;Oh! I forgot my dear, you’re blind&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A drag a drag to take the loss&lt;br /&gt;Sobriety is making me worse&lt;br /&gt;It breaks my shield against your fuss&lt;br /&gt;And I begin to see you as a curse&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need this hit to stay with you&lt;br /&gt;To get me through the shit you go through&lt;br /&gt;Destroy my body for the love of you&lt;br /&gt;The truth be told my minds gone too&lt;br /&gt;So I try to keep my sober moments few&lt;br /&gt;So I can be the man I ought to&lt;br /&gt;Always being there for you&lt;br /&gt;Watching as you take from me until I’m through&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you dear but you’re killing me&lt;br /&gt;You do not see the things I see&lt;br /&gt;Caught up in your own world constantly&lt;br /&gt;So I am sorry my love I need to leave&lt;br /&gt;Or I’d never find sobriety&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999506100321621625-6106200230816467163?l=removedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/6106200230816467163/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2009/07/for-love-of-you.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/6106200230816467163'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/6106200230816467163'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2009/07/for-love-of-you.html' title='For the love of you'/><author><name>Macy D'funk Labunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13039089024516834925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_x9tPRekJG6k/SZ4-9mX-wkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RWotkl-7Eg4/S220/wwriters+pen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999506100321621625.post-884150969445262094</id><published>2009-07-28T12:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-28T12:43:23.925-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sober</title><content type='html'>A drink to kill the memories&lt;br /&gt;A drink to dull the senses&lt;br /&gt;A drink to kill the sorrow&lt;br /&gt;A drink to induce senseless laughter&lt;br /&gt;A drink for all that is lost&lt;br /&gt;A drink for the dead&lt;br /&gt;A drink for the unforgotten&lt;br /&gt;A drink to calm my head&lt;br /&gt;A drink to take the pain away&lt;br /&gt;A drink to induce silence&lt;br /&gt;A drink to steal my breath away&lt;br /&gt;As the bottle becomes empty, we are forever no more...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999506100321621625-884150969445262094?l=removedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/884150969445262094/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2009/07/sober.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/884150969445262094'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/884150969445262094'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2009/07/sober.html' title='Sober'/><author><name>Macy D'funk Labunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13039089024516834925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_x9tPRekJG6k/SZ4-9mX-wkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RWotkl-7Eg4/S220/wwriters+pen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999506100321621625.post-8732836929991129842</id><published>2009-06-11T16:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-11T16:59:03.693-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A tale of Athene</title><content type='html'>It is said that Athene gave man knowledge of math and tools because she feel in love with a man. He was the reason that she destroyed Arachine, for she feared he would fall in love with her weaving had she spared her life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is said that Athene loved him unconditionally, and in order to protect him hid him mostly from the world and she alone could visit him. He was a gentle man, a farmer by nature, a provider by profession and so he grew Athene a garden. He filled it with all sorts of plants and she so he would not be lonely blessed it with animals.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He loved Athene with every bit of his soul and so he should for she was the only woman he had ever known. Brought to her temple as a baby he had known no other, interacting only with the priests. His innocence fascinated Athene and she guarded it above all things and prided herself on it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her relationship with him angered Zeus but there was little he could do about it. And in truth Athene did not care, she enjoyed rebelling against the wished of Zeus and Ares.&lt;br /&gt;As all things go, man is born one day and another he is gone. And so it was the very garden the love of Athene had planted for her had been responsible for his death. He fell prey to the poison of a thorn. And Hades as it was his right laid claim to his soul.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Athene on her return as she had left him to tend to her godly duties raged and demanded his soul from Hades, but as the souls of the dead belong to Hades and they dwell in his domain she had no rights to claim. Hades enjoying the ranting of his niece refused every bargain that Athene offered him and the soul he kept.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Athene refusing to be parted from her one love broke into the underworld and stole her lover’s soul. Convinced that Hades would come for his soul and knowing she could not always be there to protect him stole away the souls of three others as well. She granted these three powers of demigods and gave them the charge to protect her love. For Athene had refused to defile the innocence that she so prided in her love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so day after day they warded off the minions of Hades, sent to retrieve the lost prize of their lord, the soul of the love of Athene. As it came about the men grew weary of returning to the land of the living, existing only to protect another. Unable to enjoy the simple pleasures they had began to crave for like love and other things that their charge did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And perceiving Athene’s illicit love angered not only Hades but Zeus as well decided to make a bargain in exchange for their now un-enjoyed freedom. And so an accord they reached with the angered gods; that for the soul of Athene’s beloved they would be allowed to retain their powers for the eternity they lived outside the underworld.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so as planned amongst the three when Athene left one morning to attend to her godly charges they stole away the soul of her love. But rather than deliver up his soul to Hades as planned they hid him deep with the core of the earth. Binding him in such a way, that anyone who tried to release him would have to defile the innocence that Athene so prided on unless they knew how he was bound. This secret the three kept to themselves and fled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Zeus and Hades laughed at this trickery, for they had planned to default on their agreement delivering up the three to Athene. As it stood they had lost nothing and had enjoyed a good laugh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for Athene on returning and discovering her love gone went into rage, and sent her minions after her lover’s wards. But she had blessed them with powers of demigods and they were able to fight these off. And then Athene herself approached them on their betrayal at which they explained to her that if any of them were harmed the binder would be broken and her love would loose his innocence. At this Athene knowing they had done this to be able to enjoy the gift of love taught women the art of seduction. With this she hoped they would learn the secret of the three souls and thus free her love but more so to ensure that no matter the treachery man played there would always be a woman that she could use to subdue or destroy him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999506100321621625-8732836929991129842?l=removedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/8732836929991129842/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2009/06/tale-of-athene.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/8732836929991129842'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/8732836929991129842'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2009/06/tale-of-athene.html' title='A tale of Athene'/><author><name>Macy D'funk Labunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13039089024516834925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_x9tPRekJG6k/SZ4-9mX-wkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RWotkl-7Eg4/S220/wwriters+pen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999506100321621625.post-3659164452132808800</id><published>2009-06-11T16:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-11T16:57:43.245-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My reason for being single</title><content type='html'>My friends today gathered around me&lt;br /&gt;To share the joy that they experience from love, marriage and father hood&lt;br /&gt;They showed me pictures and told me tales of beautiful things and blessings being&lt;br /&gt;And wondered why their tactics failed to snare me&lt;br /&gt;They wanted me to see their joy and hence join their merry club of wedded men&lt;br /&gt;And though I did envy them all their tales&lt;br /&gt;I could not but explain calmly that I could not yet join their club&lt;br /&gt;They wondered why and so they asked&lt;br /&gt;And so I had to explain I hadn’t found she who would snare me yet&lt;br /&gt;In shock they exclaimed as we know so many women fit and ready&lt;br /&gt;So they asked what the problem could be&lt;br /&gt;And so I had to explain further and thus insist&lt;br /&gt;There was none that we know that was on this list…&lt;br /&gt;The 10 richest women in the world&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;….. And to all the ladies out there, that I know, know me who believe I am a dreamer and have no chance in the world, I am truly insulted by how low you think of yourselves… Wake up and get on that list.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999506100321621625-3659164452132808800?l=removedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/3659164452132808800/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2009/06/my-reason-for-being-single.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/3659164452132808800'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/3659164452132808800'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2009/06/my-reason-for-being-single.html' title='My reason for being single'/><author><name>Macy D'funk Labunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13039089024516834925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_x9tPRekJG6k/SZ4-9mX-wkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RWotkl-7Eg4/S220/wwriters+pen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999506100321621625.post-3059095983378485923</id><published>2009-05-13T23:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-14T04:14:52.963-07:00</updated><title type='text'>2am can't sleep!</title><content type='html'>Close your eyes and feel my kiss&lt;br /&gt;The gentle caress of my lips&lt;br /&gt;Taste the moist of my tongue&lt;br /&gt;As they slowly part your lips&lt;br /&gt;Feel the warmth of my breath on your cheeks&lt;br /&gt;As my heart beats rapidly next to yours&lt;br /&gt;Experience my hands running through your hair&lt;br /&gt;As I slowly suck the breath from your lungs&lt;br /&gt;Hear the words resonating in my head&lt;br /&gt;As my tongue smears its wetness on your lips&lt;br /&gt;Here’s another way you take my breath away&lt;br /&gt;Each and every other day&lt;br /&gt;Here’s another way my lips give away&lt;br /&gt;The words my heart aches to say&lt;br /&gt;The love you inspire in me everyday.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999506100321621625-3059095983378485923?l=removedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/3059095983378485923/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2009/05/2am-cant-sleep.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/3059095983378485923'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/3059095983378485923'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2009/05/2am-cant-sleep.html' title='2am can&apos;t sleep!'/><author><name>Macy D'funk Labunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13039089024516834925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_x9tPRekJG6k/SZ4-9mX-wkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RWotkl-7Eg4/S220/wwriters+pen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999506100321621625.post-4171994267999451072</id><published>2009-05-13T14:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-13T14:13:13.111-07:00</updated><title type='text'>For Leggy</title><content type='html'>She’s the only woman outside my mother&lt;br /&gt;To have made me cry… that is without hitting me&lt;br /&gt;Yet when I think of her, it is with a fondness so overwhelming&lt;br /&gt;It compares to the joy of creation&lt;br /&gt;She left without a word in the darkness of the day&lt;br /&gt;And yet when she called years later&lt;br /&gt;My heart couldn’t help but resonate with a brightness left for stars&lt;br /&gt;She told me she was getting married&lt;br /&gt;And I could not but feel happy for her&lt;br /&gt;She had found love, life and fulfillment&lt;br /&gt;What more could I ask?&lt;br /&gt;I held nothing against her but the love she graced me with once upon a time&lt;br /&gt;She taught me love, desire, want and restraint&lt;br /&gt;She showed me looks don’t matter… if they had I’d have never stood a chance&lt;br /&gt;The joy of talking for hours about nothing&lt;br /&gt;And singing on the phone in the office while praying your boss doesn’t hear you… I’ll never try that again&lt;br /&gt;She helped me grow and mature&lt;br /&gt;Taught me the beauty of considering others in your decisions&lt;br /&gt;She taught me to love who I am without restraint&lt;br /&gt;And made me worth ever molecule I contain&lt;br /&gt;She taught me the intricate calming of letting others share your burdens&lt;br /&gt;And the classiness of a strong, mature woman&lt;br /&gt;My one regret is I didn’t spend the night when she asked me to&lt;br /&gt;The only regret I’ve ever had in life… don’t worry I still have time to get more&lt;br /&gt;She became my benchmark for what I want in a woman&lt;br /&gt;She taught me there are no limits to what I would do for anyone I love … well apart for gay stuff and senseless murder.&lt;br /&gt;And even though she’s in the arms of another&lt;br /&gt;Raising his kids and cooking his meals&lt;br /&gt;I love her still like no other&lt;br /&gt;And vehemently refuse to ever live any life&lt;br /&gt;Where we did not meet, love and share&lt;br /&gt;No matter the pain, no matter the outcome.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999506100321621625-4171994267999451072?l=removedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/4171994267999451072/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2009/05/for-leggy.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/4171994267999451072'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/4171994267999451072'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2009/05/for-leggy.html' title='For Leggy'/><author><name>Macy D'funk Labunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13039089024516834925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_x9tPRekJG6k/SZ4-9mX-wkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RWotkl-7Eg4/S220/wwriters+pen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999506100321621625.post-2907704285600061841</id><published>2009-05-13T09:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-13T09:55:09.663-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Warehouse Tales</title><content type='html'>He was inside the warehouse, the bastard. I could see him clearly through the open window, he was smoking. A TV was on, it was dark and he was laughing, he was actually laughing. He obviously felt no remorse and neither would I, not now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took another swing of gin, I needed it. I needed something to dull my senses, to kill all inhibitions, my rage wasn’t enough. Normally I’m a rational man who thrives on inhibition, that’s what separates us from the animals that roam the streets parading themselves as something human. He was one of them and tonight I would settle the score. My name is Alex and that bastard in the warehouse killed my wife.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He had changed my life in one night, just one night, turning my home to a crime scene. My bedroom, which housed such precious memories with the woman I married, was now the embodiment of an image from the mind of Steven King. She was beautiful, even in her mangled state; he turned her from grace to a coroner’s work piece.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It had taken me a while to get here, hours in a bar trying to muster the courage to get to this state, nights of insomnia in hotel rooms and of course the money for the gun. It had to be something special, I wanted him to fill the pain, so I had to be sure he wouldn’t, couldn’t die on the first shot. No he had to bleed, scream, cry, and hurt like I did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She wasn’t a saint, my wife; she had actually had an affair. It hadn’t lasted too long and I admit that it was my fault and it hurt. Yet even then, she always make sure I knew how much she loved me, needed me and here her lover was, the same bastard that killed her. Now I realize I love her more than I could ever care to admit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was inside now, oddly he hadn’t noticed me, I hadn’t been so quiet. Weren’t these animals meant to be extra alert, especially after such atrocities? He couldn’t be that confident, could he? It was then I noticed the bottle in his hand, he had been drinking, just like me. But obviously I was somewhat more sober than he was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No use wasting an opportunity, my boss taught me that, so I pull out my gun walk towards him and plug him one through the back of the chair. That caused a reaction from him, no use wasting opportunity, good advice, I plug him a few more. The gun feels lighter in my hand as it surges in me a sense of power, dominance. His still alive, crying, begging, calling my name, talking but I don’t want to hear him talk, I want to hear him scream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the time I leave there he’s lying dead in a pool of his own blood and I’m trying hard no to hold the vomit in my throat till I get to the car. I feel cold and disgusted with myself but then as I get in the car, a sense of calm hits me, I remember why I did this. It wasn’t that the bastard slept with my wife and then killed her; it was that the punk had the audacity to overcharge me for it all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999506100321621625-2907704285600061841?l=removedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/2907704285600061841/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2009/05/warehouse-tales.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/2907704285600061841'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/2907704285600061841'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2009/05/warehouse-tales.html' title='Warehouse Tales'/><author><name>Macy D'funk Labunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13039089024516834925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_x9tPRekJG6k/SZ4-9mX-wkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RWotkl-7Eg4/S220/wwriters+pen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999506100321621625.post-5830539167323451523</id><published>2009-05-12T15:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-12T15:50:10.821-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Demon Days</title><content type='html'>Now it was one of those periods in my life when I was having one of those demon days, so I decide to hit a bar to get hammered. Yeah I was hoping that the excess alcohol would help me get through the day safely. Now for those of you that don’t know what a demon day is, it’s a time, day or moment when for no foreseeable reason you feel like kicking the shit out of anyone and everyone you meet. You’re pissed at the world and you want to be alone because at any moment you could snap. Simply, it’s a day you just feel positively evil, hence demon day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I get into the bar and I order myself a bottle. I had no plans on how to get home, if I’d get home or what was going to happen that night, I just wanted to loose my mind before it lost me. I knew how bad things could get if I didn’t get it outta me, I’d thought of totally despicable things to do to practically everyone that had come my way today and I was just inches away from deflating my bosses tires of my best friend hadn’t called me to complain about his nagging wife, poor sucker.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I hadn’t gotten past my first drink when I hear this irritating sound that just starts getting on my nerves. I try to block it out but after two drinks it just gets worse and I just have to find out what the heck it is. Turns out it’s a guy nagging his wife, a guy, nagging! Now I’m really irritated, what kind of arsehole is this? He not only desecrates the sanctity of the drinking grounds by bring his wife to the bar; he actually stoops so low as to nag. Now that’s just it, it’s way to low. A man should never nag, even in his own house. Your wife pisses you off, you shut the hell up if you not the kind that belts her and go to a bar and let off some steam. Then you go home and you sleep and pray she’s calm in the morning. You do not nag your wife, especially not in public.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m irritated as hell now and by my 4th drink I can’t understand why no one has done anything about this. I know it’s none of our business but he’s wrecking the bar mode, we don’t want wives in a bar, no a drinking bar. You want hot chics with broken hearts and are easy to hit on and take home. By my fifth drink the demons are out and they just take over, so I walk down there with my old trusty bottle and I crack the guy’s skull.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I’m expecting some reaction. I mean I just hit a guy, there should be a fight starting up right about now, I mean at least someone should call the cops or something. But no one does anything and I walk back to my seat and would you believe the bartender hands me another bottle, on the house he says, he even smiles at me. I look around me and I’m getting cheers and winks from every guy around, it’s like I’m a star. I mean I’m getting the whole alpha dog treatment like I just tamed this savage land and yeah it feels good. Everyone’s smiling some guys are even laughing, come to think of it, it was a funny sight. I mean the guy saw me coming and he didn’t do a thing, dumbass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next thing I know, the strangest thing happens. The wife walks up to me and asks what I’m drinking. I’m stunned, in shock; I expected a slap, a punch, a kick in the nards, anything but this. She orders another bottle seats besides me, undoes her top button and starts chatting me up. While her husband’s been helped up by two other guys obviously in Never Never land.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fast forward 2 years later, I’m back in the same bar seating opposite my new wife, who I met 2 years ago in the same bar after knocking her husband over the head with a cheap bottle of whiskey. Nagging severely and extra loudly at her for no apparent reason other than the desperate prayer that some poor bastard would just walk over and knock me the hell out of my misery!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999506100321621625-5830539167323451523?l=removedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/5830539167323451523/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2009/05/demon-days.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/5830539167323451523'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/5830539167323451523'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2009/05/demon-days.html' title='Demon Days'/><author><name>Macy D'funk Labunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13039089024516834925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_x9tPRekJG6k/SZ4-9mX-wkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RWotkl-7Eg4/S220/wwriters+pen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999506100321621625.post-4058227350346738395</id><published>2009-05-09T07:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-09T07:46:11.229-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Exams! Exams! Exams!</title><content type='html'>Exams! Exams! Exams! I’ve had exams all month and it’s been driving me nuts. But alas I am finally through, just chilling in my room about to finally watch some dirty sick porn I downloaded for no apparent reason other than the obvious when it occurs to me to check my mailbox. A harmless thing in itself but then there’s the mail and I do mean the mail. It’s from one of my professors asking to see me. Now this is awkward, well because this professor is hot, I mean she is way hot. On a scale of one to ten she’s a twelve, for real, no lie. She’s like the bench mark for beauty and hotness around this parts, so if you describing a hot chic you just meant, every one’s gonna ask you to compare her to this professor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I’m not sure why she would want to see me, but I’m a guy and like all guys I let my imagination go, never once thinking it could be about my grades. Well of course I did but I dismissed that early, well because the fantasy plays much better.&lt;br /&gt;Now my appointment with her is for 4pm, closing hours, which as you must have guessed helped fuel the fantasies. So I get there early, like an hour early and I don’t know why, so I have to pace the corridors waiting for 4pm, when it occurs to me her office hours are 2pm to 4pm. Why would she want to see me after office hours? A smile crosses my face and I’m in Never Never land waiting for Trixie to come home. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I get this phone call from a friend who’s meant to be taking the same course with this professor, he tells me the grades are out and he’s flunked. Now this obviously isn’t good news as he’s the brightest chap I know. If he flunked, then what are my chances? Pretty damn good, cause I read my heart out for that course and I made every high grade in the tests. I never missed a class, never! That’s odd cause me and the same chap spent our time on smoking weed at our other class times. But we never missed her class. And I sure paid attention to every syllable coming out of those luscious lips.  I could even quote her by class and time.&lt;br /&gt;Yet I’m a bit anxious as if I failed the exams and that’s why she wants to see me, how does this make me appear to Miss Dreamboat. For some reason I still can’t phantom I begin reading my class notes very fast. Which is odd because well, why the heck did I bring my class notes to her office after the exam? But I know I don’t want to appear stupid in front of the object of my affections.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At 3.30pm she opens her door and is just stepping out when she spots me reading. She smiles, oh lord her smile, it’s like the dawn and a summer sunset occurring at the same time.  Like nothing you will ever see again, yet you see it every time you see her. She walks up to me and I have to shift my bag to my mid section if you know what I mean. She looks directly at me in bewilderment and asks if I’ve been waiting to see her, I stammer yes and try to explain a mix-up in my mind due to her office hours. She just keeps on smiling and asks me into her office.&lt;br /&gt;Seated there, a thousand things are running through my mind when her first question comes out and blows me to a Halo game world. I mean she actually asks what I think of her.  Hearts beating at 200RPM, minds writing poetry at the rate binary codes are being processed. Well I stammer she’s a great teacher and I learn a lot from her. She smiles again and she thanks me and notices I never miss a class and that my test grades have been quite good. I thank her and try to explain that I am like that with all my course. She smiles makes me confirm that and then tells me another professor a guy doesn’t agreed with my assessment of myself as a student. Saying I have missed all his classes and tests.  Now I’m upset and can’t figure out why on earth he would say that. I had a course from him last semester and did quite well in it, what an arse. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then she asks me a more direct question which makes me adjust my bag again, she asks if I like her. Now my minds doing the gig, teacher –student romance, me and Miss Dreamboat? I don’t care if she flunks me or about grades any more, hell who wants an affair, let’s elope.  But I have to play cautious so I tell her I think she’s a great tutor and I admire her a lot.  Then it happens, she adjusts her seat, tells me she’s come out plain and actually tells me she knows I have a crush on her.  My body didn’t know whether to cum or pee in my pants.  I had to check my pulse, hell I wanted to slap myself, it was possible I was dreaming all this after I read her mail.&lt;br /&gt;I’m still stammering and answer; she just smiles and tells me she knows I have a crush on her and that she’s sure of it. She must have caught me staring at her dreamingly during class but she didn’t say that. She asked if I wanted to know how she knows and I stammered yes, realizing I just admitted to the crush.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well she says, I passed her course, practically one of the few who did, I didn’t miss a question but she can’t give me my grade. I’m now in shock and my body’s made up its mind that if it has to do anything its pee. Now I don’t really care about the grade if she’s gonna have an affair with me, what’s a grade compared to an affair with the hottest professor on campus? But then fair is fair, I’ve never worked so hard reading anything in my life just to impress her. Well she explains, I can’t get my grade cause I didn’t register for her course, I registered for professor Shit face course instead. Then I realize it, hell its true, I did so well in his course with minimum effort last semester I register for another course under him this semester but then I saw Miss Dreamboat walk into another class the same time as Shit face’s course time and I followed her instead. Now what’s worse she knows I have a crush on her and so she’s sending to me student counseling for the summer holidays. Ahhh a loss loss situation here!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999506100321621625-4058227350346738395?l=removedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/4058227350346738395/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2009/05/exams-exams-exams.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/4058227350346738395'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/4058227350346738395'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2009/05/exams-exams-exams.html' title='Exams! Exams! Exams!'/><author><name>Macy D'funk Labunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13039089024516834925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_x9tPRekJG6k/SZ4-9mX-wkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RWotkl-7Eg4/S220/wwriters+pen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999506100321621625.post-6949836830462323956</id><published>2009-04-27T22:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-27T22:53:58.377-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My many sins</title><content type='html'>First of, let me apologise, Toluwa I'm sorry but like most countries I detest the number 13!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not perfect, I cheat, I lie, I break wind in public&lt;br /&gt;I download illegally, forget to take out the trash and love quintein taratino movies&lt;br /&gt;I leave the toilet seat up and deny it furiously and in some way I'm responsible for the pestilence in sudan&lt;br /&gt;Everyday I cause global warming and start fights with disadvantaged people&lt;br /&gt;I am envious and I do covert my neighbours wife&lt;br /&gt;I have lied to a priest and stolen candy from stores&lt;br /&gt;I have promised to call many a women and never did&lt;br /&gt;I am the cause of pain for many and hurt for most&lt;br /&gt;I encourage fashion trends when I know the average joe can't afford it&lt;br /&gt;I am gluttonus in most ways and the only reason I haven't killed any one is that I'm too dumb to get away with it&lt;br /&gt;I like asian movies because of the blood and fighting but lie furiously it's because of the intricate plots&lt;br /&gt;I drink when I am angry and get angry when I drink&lt;br /&gt;I start bar fights then run to call the cops&lt;br /&gt;I am unpatriotic, I'd sell the world back to the british if they paid me enough&lt;br /&gt;I don't take bribes because no one's offered me one&lt;br /&gt;I don't take drugs because its an expensive habit and just too much work to keep up&lt;br /&gt;I'm right beside you till the last drop of beer cheering on but out the door when the bill comes&lt;br /&gt;And even though I've never met you, I'm sure when I do, I'll find some sick way to hurt you&lt;br /&gt;I am responsible for trash talk and senseless rumours&lt;br /&gt;And by God I have placed many a fireworks in many a ant hill&lt;br /&gt;I am lazy, this is the most work I've done all day&lt;br /&gt;I don't murder animals because they have long nails and I abhor scratching&lt;br /&gt;I'll say anything to get a girl in bed and have her leave the next morning&lt;br /&gt;And yet I'll miss her when she's gone and blame the world for her not loving me&lt;br /&gt;I will desert you at your time of need and return when the times good&lt;br /&gt;I run away from trouble and awkward situations, but I'm around for every toasting&lt;br /&gt;I drop water bombs from high buildings and give children funny looks&lt;br /&gt;I hate gays only because I might be one and my closet is getting full&lt;br /&gt;I wear tight pants to show off my package which doesnt impress you&lt;br /&gt;I argue senslessly and I can be real annoying&lt;br /&gt;I am responsible for this write up&lt;br /&gt;I am a man another sin unforgivable in itself&lt;br /&gt;All this and many more I am guilty off&lt;br /&gt;And you know this&lt;br /&gt;And yet in some sick, demented, sweet, angelic way&lt;br /&gt;You love me?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999506100321621625-6949836830462323956?l=removedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/6949836830462323956/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2009/04/my-many-sins.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/6949836830462323956'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/6949836830462323956'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2009/04/my-many-sins.html' title='My many sins'/><author><name>Macy D'funk Labunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13039089024516834925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_x9tPRekJG6k/SZ4-9mX-wkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RWotkl-7Eg4/S220/wwriters+pen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999506100321621625.post-435184346690596192</id><published>2009-04-27T13:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-27T17:41:35.673-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Reasons why I love my wife</title><content type='html'>She points out all my flaws, like I’m some modern day tragedy&lt;br /&gt;Yet she loves me, at least that’s what she tells me&lt;br /&gt;She sees me in a way no one else can&lt;br /&gt;Full frontal, as I am, without the afterglow, just as a man&lt;br /&gt;She says harsh words to bring me down a notch&lt;br /&gt;I love her so much I turned to scotch&lt;br /&gt;She’s always there to greet me with a hand on my face&lt;br /&gt;She seems content by how I never let that go to waste&lt;br /&gt;Some people say I love her too much&lt;br /&gt;But where would I be without her touch&lt;br /&gt;I’ve been adviced to cheat on her once in a while&lt;br /&gt;But what would I do if I ever lost her smile?&lt;br /&gt;I have sat down days just imagining&lt;br /&gt;How I would be without her nagging&lt;br /&gt;And I realize right there quite simply&lt;br /&gt;I might not be able to live without her willingly&lt;br /&gt;We’ve been together fifteen years, now that’s a long time&lt;br /&gt;She’s made the bed and stood beside me all this while&lt;br /&gt;She always there to point out my many wrongs&lt;br /&gt;With such delight it’s like she breaks out in songs&lt;br /&gt;It’s not that I love her too much; it’s just there would be no life without her&lt;br /&gt;That much I have confirmed, oh yes sir&lt;br /&gt;The truth be told, the reason I am still here?&lt;br /&gt;My wife’s a pharmacology professor, who’s cooked my meals for fifteen years my dear…..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999506100321621625-435184346690596192?l=removedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/435184346690596192/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2009/04/reasons-why-i-love-my-wife.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/435184346690596192'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/435184346690596192'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2009/04/reasons-why-i-love-my-wife.html' title='Reasons why I love my wife'/><author><name>Macy D'funk Labunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13039089024516834925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_x9tPRekJG6k/SZ4-9mX-wkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RWotkl-7Eg4/S220/wwriters+pen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999506100321621625.post-4373993890293658526</id><published>2009-04-23T14:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-23T14:08:13.563-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Could it be?</title><content type='html'>Could it be said that your heart was won by mere words?&lt;br /&gt;That in the storm called life&lt;br /&gt;They calmed the waters of your heart long enough&lt;br /&gt;For you to see the feelings within me?&lt;br /&gt;Could they honestly have conveyed&lt;br /&gt;My hearts true intent?&lt;br /&gt;That I may be one with you&lt;br /&gt;So much so that I am mistaken for you.&lt;br /&gt;Could it be that they have raised in you&lt;br /&gt;A fire that burns the very sea?&lt;br /&gt;If so be it, let them rain down on you more heavenly&lt;br /&gt;In their sweet divinity&lt;br /&gt;Till we are both blined&lt;br /&gt;And only each other see&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999506100321621625-4373993890293658526?l=removedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/4373993890293658526/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2009/04/could-it-be.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/4373993890293658526'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/4373993890293658526'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2009/04/could-it-be.html' title='Could it be?'/><author><name>Macy D'funk Labunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13039089024516834925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_x9tPRekJG6k/SZ4-9mX-wkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RWotkl-7Eg4/S220/wwriters+pen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999506100321621625.post-5510793466584758271</id><published>2009-04-23T04:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-23T05:01:03.604-07:00</updated><title type='text'>One liners....</title><content type='html'>Living is a luxury I could ill aford&lt;br /&gt;But for the existence of you&lt;br /&gt;I have no reason for breathing&lt;br /&gt;Other than we share the same air&lt;br /&gt;I have no reason for sight&lt;br /&gt;Other than the idea that I might see you tonight&lt;br /&gt;I have no reason for walking&lt;br /&gt;Other than the feeling I might cross your path&lt;br /&gt;I have no reason to be here&lt;br /&gt;Other than I hope I might catch your stare&lt;br /&gt;I come alive everytime I see you smile&lt;br /&gt;Enough said, I reiterate&lt;br /&gt;the only reason for me is you....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999506100321621625-5510793466584758271?l=removedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/5510793466584758271/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2009/04/words.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/5510793466584758271'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/5510793466584758271'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2009/04/words.html' title='One liners....'/><author><name>Macy D'funk Labunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13039089024516834925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_x9tPRekJG6k/SZ4-9mX-wkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RWotkl-7Eg4/S220/wwriters+pen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999506100321621625.post-2573112924814180038</id><published>2009-04-16T16:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-16T16:33:16.816-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh No! Not Again....</title><content type='html'>I got the call around ten, from a dear friend&lt;br /&gt;Saying if I left work right then, I would catch the cock and the hen&lt;br /&gt;So quickly to the carry I hurried&lt;br /&gt;The consequences I denied to quarry&lt;br /&gt;I been the fool for way to long&lt;br /&gt;Now was the time for my change of song&lt;br /&gt;So madly I sped through corners and lights&lt;br /&gt;Imaging smugly the awaited sight&lt;br /&gt;One that had been described to me in loose detail&lt;br /&gt;That I tried repeatedly to see but was always at fail&lt;br /&gt;I had the divorce papers beside me&lt;br /&gt;Finally I would be free&lt;br /&gt;From the woman who had never loved me&lt;br /&gt;Free to roam, chase and bed&lt;br /&gt;And other woman that crossed my stead&lt;br /&gt;No need for guns, knives or murder&lt;br /&gt;Thoughts like that only lead one to slaughter&lt;br /&gt;A life as sweet as yours hers and his&lt;br /&gt;All because she shared a kiss&lt;br /&gt;He could keep her for all I cared&lt;br /&gt;I’d keep the houses and money and the kids we’d reared&lt;br /&gt;Hers and mine, I could simply take&lt;br /&gt;She would forfeit as she caused the break&lt;br /&gt;Finally to the house I arrived&lt;br /&gt;Packed the car in the neighbors drive&lt;br /&gt;Saw his packed in mine&lt;br /&gt;And was happy all was in line&lt;br /&gt;I snug round to the back&lt;br /&gt;Slowly opened the door to keep the noise level intact&lt;br /&gt;Slowly up the stairs I crept&lt;br /&gt;Quietly to where they both slept&lt;br /&gt;To catch them the man who had my wife&lt;br /&gt;Curled up daily so tight&lt;br /&gt;Only to catch a sight that was nae not a delight&lt;br /&gt;For there lay naked with the woman I wed&lt;br /&gt;My mother in my marriage bed&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999506100321621625-2573112924814180038?l=removedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/2573112924814180038/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2009/04/oh-no-not-again.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/2573112924814180038'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/2573112924814180038'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2009/04/oh-no-not-again.html' title='Oh No! Not Again....'/><author><name>Macy D'funk Labunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13039089024516834925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_x9tPRekJG6k/SZ4-9mX-wkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RWotkl-7Eg4/S220/wwriters+pen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999506100321621625.post-4708555361674942841</id><published>2009-04-16T15:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-17T11:05:29.976-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Through Different Eyes</title><content type='html'>Women see things differently from men, they take from any conversation what they will. Here is an experience that happened to a friend, not so recently. I refuse to mention names, but I dare any woman to deny the possibility of this scene.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is a conversation that took place by letter, sent to a girlfriend and a dear friend. The words may vary but the essence remains, judge for yourself the heartily gains;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dearest people,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do apologize for not getting in touch for the last few months. Things have not been easy. I have been virtually at deaths door for a time and to broke to survive or a long while. I lost my job due to downsizing and sadly just after I feel gravely ill. I hardly had money to feed let alone pay the doctor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My neighbors have been kind; they took me to the hospital where I have been all this while. To weak to speak or write a letter, the doctors feared I was at my last days. I ought to have called or communicated, believe me I wanted to. But my phone line has been retrieved by the phone company and no one comes to see me here. I could barely pay my hospital bill and for some reason when they tried your number they couldn’t get through. You are right; I never should have moved so far from home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I managed to loan some money off my ex, she was in town for a day and a neighbour told her where to find me. She paid for my bill. When they told me I had a vistor, how I wished it was you my love, or you my dear friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things are a bit better now, I have been discharged so please do not worry about my health. I have my internet service back up. I have no job yet and things are still hard, but I get the odd job to do once in a while and that gets me by.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I go weary of being away from you, so I am saving up enough money for a final return. You are all that matters to me. My friend, take care of my loved one till I return. I miss you both.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love …&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The replies..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The dear friend (a guy)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dude,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was some touching letter. You need anything? How do I get over money to you, I have some cash saved up and I still owe you for the bet we made in high school, I bet that must have gathered interest by now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do hurry back, your love misses you. You sound rather depressed, gay even.. hahaha. Hope the sickness and heat haven’t altered your sexual preference, remember I am happily married, hahaha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can’t wait to see you dude, get in touch so I know how to send over cash to you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cheers&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The girlfriend&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;….You were with you ex?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999506100321621625-4708555361674942841?l=removedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/4708555361674942841/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2009/04/through-different-eyes.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/4708555361674942841'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/4708555361674942841'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2009/04/through-different-eyes.html' title='Through Different Eyes'/><author><name>Macy D'funk Labunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13039089024516834925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_x9tPRekJG6k/SZ4-9mX-wkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RWotkl-7Eg4/S220/wwriters+pen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999506100321621625.post-3528218889930519486</id><published>2009-04-16T00:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-16T00:06:11.388-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Bank Tale....Part 2</title><content type='html'>It’s the darnest thing you’d say, a bank half filled with robbers all of who just met at the time of their withdrawal. But these are the times, a recession is at play plus someone had set word that the security there was joke, and the cops never came, at least not this day. So it would seem a bank filled with robbers all confused on what they should do, till one very brave stood up to explain there was enough money there to go round, after all it was a bank. If each man was patient and if they could all agree, they could divide whatever they got their hands on and leave. They had the bank in their control and couldn’t be over run and in truth this was all just good clean fun. As the bank manager was out, the vault they couldn’t access but the tellers had enough for robbers to make a decent run.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was none to argue about this crazy idea but they needed to know who was in and how many of them were there. So it was suggested that all the robbers would go to a side and those being robbed would stand on the other, and since they all had guns who would protest? Well as those daring drew to the right and those, shall we say not daring moved to the other, our friend has finally decided what play to make. And as he was about to draw his gun, he felt a hand on his that stopped him from the draw. Right beside him was an elderly man who reminded him of his dad with understanding in his eyes. He whispered few words to our friend, which brought perspective in the way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘You don’t want to do that now son’ was all he said with a wink. His head tilted in the direction of the window. And there our friend sees alas it is, as the Calvary has finally arrived. With curses and tears our friend falls to the ground to sit, as this is what the bank robbers ordered. The elderly man beside him is intrigued and engages him in discussion. Our friend spills his woes, whatever they maybe, I doubt you and I care, and I bet right now you see they elder as a hero who’s saved our friend from a life of crime.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The robbers are confused, the cops aren’t meant to be here, that much was quite understood. But there they were clear as day, so now they need a plan or two. Well they decide, they are so many and who is to say who’s the robber or the robbed. So they get the tellers in front of them as they are mostly women and get the rest of the crowd around them. And screaming ‘bomb in the building’ they all rushed out together in much haste.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The cops see the women first and so cannot fire at what becomes a stamped. And so the holster their weapons and prepare for an alternative move. Now inside the bank, our friend had remained, held back by the elderly man. Afraid that they may get hurt if the police being overwhelmed did fire. But to much surprise the thieving plan worked and the robbers all got away. Surprising much more was the fact that the cops didn’t try to get in their way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It didn’t take long for the cops to storm into the bank. Yellow tape is placed all around the perimeters and constables remain to hold back the crowd. The bank manager stands up, and looks around, suddenly smiling and winking. The cops with holstered weapons smile back at him without confusion and thinking. The old man gets up and suddenly takes charge, he gets a salute from the officer in charge and smartly salutes back. They walk to the vault which the bank manager opens and begin to unload its contents.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our friend looks on in pure amazement, how could this be? Well explains the elderly man, ‘you’re not the only one feeling the bite of the recession. In line with that I’d like you to meet the officers of the 12th precinct.’ It would seem they formed a plan and let the bank manager in, that they would take the bank and clean its vault and then share the proceeds. Now as they were cops, they needed a way to do this clean and simple, so they spread the word that the bank was flawed and could be robbed quite easily. Now in due course they’d arrive and let the robber go, so what they took from the vault which was the bulk would be blamed on the robber so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so it seemed our friend ran into some luck as he was thus included in the deal, and so was anyone who stayed behind as the vault was filled to the till. And as it was, it came to him that he didn’t need a gun to rob the bank, he just need to go there and stand by an elderly man to leave richer than when he began.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999506100321621625-3528218889930519486?l=removedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/3528218889930519486/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2009/04/bank-talepart-2.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/3528218889930519486'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/3528218889930519486'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2009/04/bank-talepart-2.html' title='The Bank Tale....Part 2'/><author><name>Macy D'funk Labunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13039089024516834925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_x9tPRekJG6k/SZ4-9mX-wkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RWotkl-7Eg4/S220/wwriters+pen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999506100321621625.post-3400225603647167996</id><published>2009-04-15T15:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-16T00:08:20.800-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Bank Tale....Part 1?</title><content type='html'>When backed to the wall, we men do the craziest of things. I once knew a guy who threatened to jump from a two story window just to get out of a tight situation with a woman. But that’s another story at another time; our tale today has nothing to do with a woman, least none that I know of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now our friend today has got his reasons, doesn’t matter what they. You decide what would best justify a crime other than pride. The fact is on this day, with AK, he’s decided he must get paid. So to the bank he goes, on the corner of a street called Maine to make a little more than a little withdrawal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like in any other bank, there’s a short line at the teller and pulling out your gun at the front door is only asking for trouble. So he joins the queue for what else can he does and patiently waits for his turn to come. And to make it more cliché he has a note for the teller written on a withdrawal slip.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now it could just be his luck, or maybe it’s the times we’re in but as the queue slowly goes shorter, the man at the counter pulls out a gun and points it at the teller. Now this is a situation, he’s banks getting robbed and our friend quickly has to think of a play, but as he’s there thinking others are doing as a second guy pulls out a gun to make his say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now there’s a bit of confusion, these guys aren’t together but they’d be damned if they don’t get paid. So with an unspoken accord and since they have everyone’s attention they decide that half is always better than none. And others seeing that this bird will lay eggs; join in the action of the two. So before our friend could calculate an action the bank was half run with robbers. At the sight of which I must point out that the bank manager, just looked around and without thought but much reason, squirmed and fainted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now here it is the oddest thing, standing there to hapless to think. There he is with a gun in his coat, realizing he is not alone in this endeavor. Alas a funny situation has we here, where thieves out number clients in a bank…or isn’t that the way it has always been? Still for one planning to rob the bank as my friend, an odd predicament to more than one end&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999506100321621625-3400225603647167996?l=removedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/3400225603647167996/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2009/04/bank-talepart-1.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/3400225603647167996'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/3400225603647167996'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2009/04/bank-talepart-1.html' title='The Bank Tale....Part 1?'/><author><name>Macy D'funk Labunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13039089024516834925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_x9tPRekJG6k/SZ4-9mX-wkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RWotkl-7Eg4/S220/wwriters+pen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999506100321621625.post-5682568717049285718</id><published>2009-04-12T11:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-12T11:15:08.857-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Guess who this is for......</title><content type='html'>Please do not take this the wrong way, I'm not trying to wreck any homes abeg....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just saw her lips, only her lips&lt;br /&gt;And for hours and days I have sat here&lt;br /&gt;Trying to compose an ode, maybe even a sonnet&lt;br /&gt;Anything to declare the beauty in their stare&lt;br /&gt;Yet day after day, hour after hour&lt;br /&gt;I fall short of words, imagination, brilliance to properly describe&lt;br /&gt;The emotions that they stir and strike&lt;br /&gt;I cannot be the only man to have seen this&lt;br /&gt;Or even this endeavor pursued&lt;br /&gt;Her husband must have gone through much more&lt;br /&gt;For her heart to win for sure&lt;br /&gt;And yet even she must know the power in which they are held&lt;br /&gt;Do not misunderstand me; I try not here to woe&lt;br /&gt;A lost battle that would be here to ensue ( believe me I know)&lt;br /&gt;Forgiveness I crave for the boldness I dare&lt;br /&gt;But such African lips deserve such respect&lt;br /&gt;(abeg I no talk say dem no dey receive am ohhh! Na only write up, wa lai e)&lt;br /&gt;To believe such godly sites were responsible for sucking the snut from my nose&lt;br /&gt;Is more than mere wonder to me&lt;br /&gt;(now that’s why I wrote this, they remind me of my mothers, and yes my mother is serenaded daily by poetry too. That’s why I moved out of my father’s house because the rivalry was getting too much, actually he kicked me out)&lt;br /&gt;All hail the African woman, equipped with lips and hips&lt;br /&gt;They wield ever so artfully&lt;br /&gt;And yet humbly enough to use them so lovingly&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999506100321621625-5682568717049285718?l=removedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/5682568717049285718/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2009/04/guess-who-this-is-for.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/5682568717049285718'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/5682568717049285718'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2009/04/guess-who-this-is-for.html' title='Guess who this is for......'/><author><name>Macy D'funk Labunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13039089024516834925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_x9tPRekJG6k/SZ4-9mX-wkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RWotkl-7Eg4/S220/wwriters+pen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999506100321621625.post-3019899463033761083</id><published>2009-04-12T00:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-12T00:02:34.138-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Blabbing</title><content type='html'>‘When life hands you lemons, you make lemonade’&lt;br /&gt;I’ve heard this saying so many times&lt;br /&gt;It makes my stomach ache&lt;br /&gt;A simple totem that is used by we&lt;br /&gt;Who strive in life to be ever so self sufficient&lt;br /&gt;Who strive so hard not to depend on anyone so&lt;br /&gt;Thus shielding ourselves from disappointment and hurt&lt;br /&gt;The only person you can depend on is you&lt;br /&gt;Well then why do the other animals run in packs or pairs?&lt;br /&gt;Could it be that they see something I don’t?&lt;br /&gt;I have learnt this much thus far&lt;br /&gt;We choose not our friends; they are determined by our environment&lt;br /&gt;We choose not our families; or the choices we each would have made&lt;br /&gt;We choose not our enemies; if at all we can truly identify who they are&lt;br /&gt;We choose not our jobs; we grab whatever is available&lt;br /&gt;We choose not our religion; we worship what we know, are exposed to and learn&lt;br /&gt;But by some divine glory we are allowed to choose the people we love&lt;br /&gt;And those we share our hearts, selves and problems with&lt;br /&gt;Those we lean on and run to&lt;br /&gt;So who am I to hide my shoulder?&lt;br /&gt;Or to deny myself the comfort of a friend&lt;br /&gt;I wear my faults like a glove&lt;br /&gt;And my passions as a badge&lt;br /&gt;I put my heart up on display&lt;br /&gt;And dare to be judged by what is I am&lt;br /&gt;If you choose it, the choice was yours&lt;br /&gt;But if you break it, it was mine&lt;br /&gt;As it was mine to give, mine to offer&lt;br /&gt;And so I thank you for choosing and for sharing&lt;br /&gt;But I refuse to walk this life alone&lt;br /&gt;When such pleasant company surrounds me&lt;br /&gt;I shall see myself through the eyes of my mother&lt;br /&gt;For what better view in life could there be&lt;br /&gt;And avail myself of all the love that surrounds me&lt;br /&gt;I deny myself nothing I desire and bear the consequences willingly&lt;br /&gt;I will hurt, I will ache and I will be broken&lt;br /&gt;I will be picked up , I will be soothed and I will be put back together&lt;br /&gt;For I have one simple choice, to love or stand alone&lt;br /&gt;I came into this world alone to the greetings of many&lt;br /&gt;But I refuse to walk it alone&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999506100321621625-3019899463033761083?l=removedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/3019899463033761083/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2009/04/blabbing.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/3019899463033761083'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/3019899463033761083'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2009/04/blabbing.html' title='Blabbing'/><author><name>Macy D'funk Labunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13039089024516834925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_x9tPRekJG6k/SZ4-9mX-wkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RWotkl-7Eg4/S220/wwriters+pen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999506100321621625.post-1048826875285695325</id><published>2009-04-10T22:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-11T08:42:12.022-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Just...Toluwa</title><content type='html'>For a friend, a dear, an inspiration......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;now if only serena had a body like you&lt;br /&gt;and beyonce a face like you&lt;br /&gt;then just maybe i might be into them too&lt;br /&gt;but my dear they still just not you&lt;br /&gt;what's scary is that you got the brains too&lt;br /&gt;so a deadly combination is you&lt;br /&gt;and i know whatever you put your mind to&lt;br /&gt;that's just what you gonna do&lt;br /&gt;so that the world sits back and applauds on cue&lt;br /&gt;at the inspiring actions of you&lt;br /&gt;now guys they want to be with you&lt;br /&gt;and most of them just won't do&lt;br /&gt;so what they do is try to diss you&lt;br /&gt;to make you feel less than you&lt;br /&gt;they pump you up with emotions untrue&lt;br /&gt;to bring you down a notch or two&lt;br /&gt;but i'll be honest with you&lt;br /&gt;there was a godess born in you&lt;br /&gt;and the only thing that was ever wrong with you&lt;br /&gt;is that you just too beautiful&lt;br /&gt;and if that act is all so sinful&lt;br /&gt;there's the biggest sinner lurking in you&lt;br /&gt;and no one can ever rob off you&lt;br /&gt;the shine in you so true&lt;br /&gt;so the only one to come in the way of you&lt;br /&gt;my dear can only be you&lt;br /&gt;and the onlookers can only come off being in awe of you&lt;br /&gt;and when you do the things you do&lt;br /&gt;that brings out the star in you&lt;br /&gt;so the angels come saying 'i know that beau'&lt;br /&gt;i can say 'i know her too'&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999506100321621625-1048826875285695325?l=removedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/1048826875285695325/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2009/04/justtoluwa.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/1048826875285695325'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/1048826875285695325'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2009/04/justtoluwa.html' title='Just...Toluwa'/><author><name>Macy D'funk Labunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13039089024516834925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_x9tPRekJG6k/SZ4-9mX-wkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RWotkl-7Eg4/S220/wwriters+pen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999506100321621625.post-110862494211039025</id><published>2009-04-04T21:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-04T21:25:46.042-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Cheat, The Mistress and The Wife</title><content type='html'>There she stood, just steaming at the corner with a gun in one hand and a knife in the other. Plain as day but in the dead of the night, I’ve been caught pants down with my mistress by my wife. A thousand questions come rushing through my brain, but there’s just one of those questions that been driving me insane. It’s not how she caught me in hotel out of town or how long she must have known this was going down. It’s not why she didn’t lay in ambush at the house, slipping poison in my coffee every morning by the ounce. But how the hell light as day that it had to right here I find out my wife can handle a semi automatic without a blink of fear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And she’s staring into space with eyes all misty, and I feel the churning of the elements within me. I’m searching for the words to say, to try to explain. I’m not in love with this woman, the sex was the aim. I’ve lied and I’ve cheated, I’ve been real bad. But my heart belonged to her, it always had. It was the sex that drove me to this, the things she wouldn’t do, I love my wife every much but I love sex too. And there were things that I wanted and I just couldn’t ask and here was this lady who was up to the task. I had to lie to get what I wanted but she did it all the same, it was a mutual understanding, we shared no shame. But here it seems my own actions have brought us to this, here stands my wife in front of me with a gun and she’s awfully pissed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She’s asking why it had to come to this, why was there cheating. She’s screaming the words ‘I loved you’ ‘I would have done anything for you’. I’m softly saying ‘I’m sorry’ and ‘I love you too’. She’s screams ‘Would you shut up’ and as sure as rain I do. I’m scared of the gun talking and repeating her words, because if they do I won’t be singing with the birds. I’d be lying with the fishes and even though I deserve it, I’d rather tally that event cause the thought of it itches.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She’s repeating her questions they coming ever louder, I’m trying to calm her down but they carrying more power. I’m down on my knees trying to explain, but I’m ever so sure I’m talking in vain. I do love her so, I try to make her see, I’m a man and I erred but that’s just me. We can start again, we can make this work. All we need is time, her forgiveness and we can talk. I’ll make this up to her, everyway that I can. I’ll spend the rest of my life doing it; I’ll find a way to be her man. If only she’d put down the gun and let this pass, I swear right now I’ll do anything she asks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly my mistress, who’d all been so silent, breathes the words ‘I’m sorry’ in way that’s all so penitent. I try to hush her down, for fear of making things worse, my wife shuts me up with just half her verse. My mistress continues speaking, and starts to explain, my wife and she are talking and then things become plain. Here I was my ego so blinded, I didn’t see what was right in front of me as I was so hind sighted. My wife wasn’t here pissed that her husband had a mistress, she was here cause her mistress had a mistress and her mistress was her husband.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I made the mistake only a man can; I let my ego go and raised a fit and a damn. And there my wife solved her problem once and for all, she put several bullets in me as I stood there tall. And I finally found out why she brought the knife, cut me to pieces after she ended my life. So here I lie at the bottom of a river in a third world, a cheat who was cheated on by more than one girl.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999506100321621625-110862494211039025?l=removedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/110862494211039025/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2009/04/cheat-mistress-and-wife.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/110862494211039025'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/110862494211039025'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2009/04/cheat-mistress-and-wife.html' title='The Cheat, The Mistress and The Wife'/><author><name>Macy D'funk Labunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13039089024516834925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_x9tPRekJG6k/SZ4-9mX-wkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RWotkl-7Eg4/S220/wwriters+pen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999506100321621625.post-6515222943081789305</id><published>2009-04-03T11:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-03T11:19:06.796-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Stolen</title><content type='html'>i start my day the same way I end it&lt;br /&gt;inlove with you&lt;br /&gt;whether near or far&lt;br /&gt;my mind remains fixed on yout&lt;br /&gt;they say you don't take a thing with you&lt;br /&gt;when you leave this crazy world&lt;br /&gt;they wrong about that you know&lt;br /&gt;because i take the memories i made loving you&lt;br /&gt;wherever I go&lt;br /&gt;be it heaven or hell&lt;br /&gt;a state of non existence&lt;br /&gt;or a world far unknown, a parallel universe&lt;br /&gt;as long as i have the lifetime spent loving you&lt;br /&gt;i'll bear what each possibility has to offer&lt;br /&gt;because no suffering or torment&lt;br /&gt;could compare to a day without you&lt;br /&gt;and no joy or pleasure could evenly match&lt;br /&gt;the glory of your smile&lt;br /&gt;so let death usher forth it worst&lt;br /&gt;i'll bear it all&lt;br /&gt;with your name between my lips&lt;br /&gt;and end my life better than i started it&lt;br /&gt;swept away inlove with you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999506100321621625-6515222943081789305?l=removedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/6515222943081789305/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2009/04/stolen.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/6515222943081789305'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/6515222943081789305'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2009/04/stolen.html' title='Stolen'/><author><name>Macy D'funk Labunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13039089024516834925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_x9tPRekJG6k/SZ4-9mX-wkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RWotkl-7Eg4/S220/wwriters+pen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999506100321621625.post-3081151066949596950</id><published>2009-04-03T11:05:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-03T11:07:08.141-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Suicide Tales...Installment one?</title><content type='html'>Dear Diary,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sitting here in this tavern, drinking bottle after bottle I waste away. I'm writing this here drunk as I am as I have no where else to go. Pass the bottle pour it down, turn the frown upside down. If only this could alleviate the darkness. I’m smiling now but how long will the alcohol last?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was a beautiful day till now. The sun shone so bright this morning and the moon looked so promising on my way home. I got a promotion today and closed a deal I never even hoped I could. Signing bonuses paid in cash. I went round to buy the classiest wine I had ever had. Tonight would be a celebration, a high point of the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had set all plans in play to thank the woman who laid in wait. I would get home and dawn her with this necklace that I’d found and sprinkle on the floor the petals of the roses I had in hand. I could kiss her so lightly then swoop her off the floor. Take her to the living room and wait for the knock on the door.&lt;br /&gt;Dinner would arrive, she couldn't cook tonight, she had to be spoilt and pampered for putting up with this old broken man. I’d feed her with my own two hands. Then carry her off to the bathroom and wash her feet and hair. Then to the bed to massage her aching bones cause she must have had a hard week slaving for you know who. Then back to the bathroom to cleanse her aching soul. Sponge her down and bathe her with bubbles, kisses and hand. Then back to the bedroom to make the sweetest love I could, to pleasure the woman I love tonight was the endeavor I had taken.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But as my car pulled up the driveway, the bedroom lights lay glaring hauntingly. Nothing unusual to alert my senses, why would it? I opened the door and walked right in.  Dinner arrived early so I set it down on the table and the candles lit. Snuck upstairs as quiet as I could, I wanted to surprise her but I suspected she already knew I had arrived home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know you think you know what lay awaiting me, and I know you know you're right. You’ve heard this tale a 1000 times. If truth be told and to yourself be honest, most people have experienced this before at one time or the other. But diary, my dear diary I know you think you've heard it all, I know you think you know it all, but diary sweet diary, you need to know the reasons for the bottles I’ve been downing.  There as you expected was my wife with another man, in the explicit act of illicit sex. Doing things I never would expect, well because they had never been done to me. And in truth that was what sparked my jealousy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These are things I had wished were done to me, things I had, had to pay other women to do. But that is beside the point. There I stood watching, suddenly become aroused and the thought of joining them did creep into my mind. But then the rage over took me! A jealous uncontrollable rage as would fill any man. She was doing things she had never done to me and so I like every lovers tale involving rage I sought my gun to end this stories page. But as I returned in my gun trotting rage, the vision displayed to my eyes made me freeze to the spot by the door. For right there the sight to greet me was my wife with a bloodied axe and her lover in pieces.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I watched as she chopped him with passion and skill of an x-rated butcher. And like my aroused manhood, my gun too receded. To the darkness of the corner I found myself retreating as she hacked up him pieces and then bagged him. After which to the attic she proceeded. In that room that lay above me every night, I found the God the atheists had denied. For all over the wooden floor that was meant to lay bare, laid bodies of broken men.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My heart raced, my eyes watered, my stomach churned. She placed the bag down and sat right beside it. She liked her fingers and a cigar she lighted. In the bedroom where I found myself seconds later, I watched the bed, sheets soaked in blood and pillows stained. And I released this was where every night I laid and suddenly my legs discovered the power within them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here I am in a bar on some desert road, drowning bottles to clear my head. My phones been ringing, you know who it is. She must have seen the dinner I had carefully laid. It’s been a few too many bottles a text comes in. Three words ’I love you’ from the woman I had married.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Diary dear diary, please advice, the next move i should make, as the next bottle arrives&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999506100321621625-3081151066949596950?l=removedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/3081151066949596950/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2009/04/suicide-talesinstallment-one.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/3081151066949596950'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/3081151066949596950'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2009/04/suicide-talesinstallment-one.html' title='Suicide Tales...Installment one?'/><author><name>Macy D'funk Labunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13039089024516834925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_x9tPRekJG6k/SZ4-9mX-wkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RWotkl-7Eg4/S220/wwriters+pen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999506100321621625.post-1815485125765613289</id><published>2009-03-29T07:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-29T07:58:24.530-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Black man speaketh</title><content type='html'>I am a man, a proud man, a black man, a hunter,&lt;br /&gt;A farmer, a father, a provider, a wrestler,&lt;br /&gt;A son, raised and placed at the head by the ages of time&lt;br /&gt;Birthed from a woman, loved by woman, raised by woman, taught by many.&lt;br /&gt;I am a man, a black man, a hunter.&lt;br /&gt;I see my prey, I set my traps, and my desires become mine.&lt;br /&gt;This is how it has been&lt;br /&gt;How it was shown to me...by a man&lt;br /&gt;A strong man, a proud man.&lt;br /&gt;I am the hunter&lt;br /&gt;So tell me please when I became so unwittingly the prey?&lt;br /&gt;Yes I saw her first, but it was her who decided she wanted me&lt;br /&gt;Yes I persued her, but it was her who laid the traps and who caught me&lt;br /&gt;What role reversal is this?&lt;br /&gt;There I thought I was the master&lt;br /&gt;Yet she rules my house&lt;br /&gt;So that in my very home, ever so subtle she commands me&lt;br /&gt;I am man, tall, strong, desirable...this I have been told&lt;br /&gt;I can have anything my heart desires&lt;br /&gt;When did my heart begin to desire her?&lt;br /&gt;I am a man, I seek to hunt to feed&lt;br /&gt;Now I seek to please her.&lt;br /&gt;I am a man, caught, branded and kept by a woman&lt;br /&gt;I am a proud man, a provider, a wrestler&lt;br /&gt;I fight for her and I provide for her&lt;br /&gt;I am a proud that she choose to ensare me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999506100321621625-1815485125765613289?l=removedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/1815485125765613289/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2009/03/black-man-speaketh.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/1815485125765613289'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/1815485125765613289'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2009/03/black-man-speaketh.html' title='A Black man speaketh'/><author><name>Macy D'funk Labunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13039089024516834925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_x9tPRekJG6k/SZ4-9mX-wkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RWotkl-7Eg4/S220/wwriters+pen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999506100321621625.post-4069975126658612901</id><published>2009-03-27T21:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-27T21:24:36.879-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It takes a woman...</title><content type='html'>I met her 1st by paper. Just a name accompanied by words. A combination of which inspired emotions in me i could not deny. They learnt a voice as then unheard and thus a personality and a then a face 2 This person yet unseen.&lt;br /&gt;Words that demanded a reply, a lovin retort for the emotions they stired. These were given and more words ushered forth from her. Words That produced a wanting desire to share these emotions they envoked.&lt;br /&gt;They caused a penmanship in me that hadn't till then been discovered. Those words that make my internal workings change and now i breathe to return the favor. To inspire in her what she has in me.&lt;br /&gt;To cause these longing for words to possess her as it has me. But not just any words, no, it they have to be mine. They have to stir in her the desire to read them constantly, to breathe them. Till they become her waking thought and dying obession.&lt;br /&gt;I need to instill in her a wanting to share every emotion she feels, every thot that runs through her head till she is filled with obession for me.&lt;br /&gt;Such are the power of words. But not just any words but the right words, said at the right time and delievered in such a manner as to cause any soul to stir. Words that calm the angry beast, that quench the souless fire of a sun. Words that once ushered take up a life of their own as if possessed by the breathe of God. Words dat inspire wars and cause even the hardest hearts to beat still.&lt;br /&gt;Words that have brought me to this! Obsessed and broken, lost and loving every moment. It is words that have overtaken me and so words i must return in kind till i can fully repay the hand she has dealt me&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999506100321621625-4069975126658612901?l=removedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/4069975126658612901/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2009/03/it-takes-woman.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/4069975126658612901'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/4069975126658612901'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2009/03/it-takes-woman.html' title='It takes a woman...'/><author><name>Macy D'funk Labunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13039089024516834925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_x9tPRekJG6k/SZ4-9mX-wkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RWotkl-7Eg4/S220/wwriters+pen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999506100321621625.post-2598492190460885356</id><published>2009-03-27T19:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-27T19:27:36.983-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Forgive Me.</title><content type='html'>Here's to my dreams,&lt;br /&gt;forgotten ambitions.&lt;br /&gt;Forgive me, my childhood fantasies,&lt;br /&gt;All you are now are just fond memories&lt;br /&gt;I never betrayed you&lt;br /&gt;I just adapted to the the game to the cards life dealt me&lt;br /&gt;I never changed, you are still my heartfelt desires&lt;br /&gt;I will always keep you close&lt;br /&gt;But the light of day you may never see&lt;br /&gt;Things just didnt turn out as dreamt&lt;br /&gt;My hands became to slippery to hold on....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999506100321621625-2598492190460885356?l=removedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/2598492190460885356/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2009/03/forgive-me.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/2598492190460885356'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/2598492190460885356'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2009/03/forgive-me.html' title='Forgive Me.'/><author><name>Macy D'funk Labunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13039089024516834925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_x9tPRekJG6k/SZ4-9mX-wkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RWotkl-7Eg4/S220/wwriters+pen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999506100321621625.post-2864641884636490189</id><published>2009-02-28T18:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-04-03T07:48:22.942-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Naija Man, Mschew!</title><content type='html'>Egba mi oh my people&lt;br /&gt;come see ohh&lt;br /&gt;E yan say em luf me&lt;br /&gt;me no wan gree&lt;br /&gt;E tell me say e go die without me&lt;br /&gt;me still no wan gree&lt;br /&gt;I tell am say I no be easy chic&lt;br /&gt;Em no wan gree&lt;br /&gt;I tell am say e no fit handle me&lt;br /&gt;Em no wan gree&lt;br /&gt;E tell me say anything wey I want&lt;br /&gt;make I come tell am&lt;br /&gt;I look am up down, laff small&lt;br /&gt;left me oh, I tell am&lt;br /&gt;E beg, E cry&lt;br /&gt;Me no wan gree&lt;br /&gt;E spend money E beg&lt;br /&gt;Me no wan gree&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oya na,&lt;br /&gt;give me ya bank account number&lt;br /&gt;E no gree&lt;br /&gt;Giff me control power for ya company&lt;br /&gt;E no wan gree&lt;br /&gt;E no dey gree call me again&lt;br /&gt;E don too hard for am to send text&lt;br /&gt;E no wan show for my domot again&lt;br /&gt;See naija man&lt;br /&gt;E luff me die&lt;br /&gt;But em luff em money pass&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From the perspective of a Nigerian Woman.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999506100321621625-2864641884636490189?l=removedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/2864641884636490189/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2009/02/egba-mi-oh-my-people-come-see-ohh-e-yan.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/2864641884636490189'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/2864641884636490189'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2009/02/egba-mi-oh-my-people-come-see-ohh-e-yan.html' title='Naija Man, Mschew!'/><author><name>Macy D'funk Labunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13039089024516834925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_x9tPRekJG6k/SZ4-9mX-wkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RWotkl-7Eg4/S220/wwriters+pen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999506100321621625.post-5236009798817721649</id><published>2009-02-21T07:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-21T07:56:14.500-08:00</updated><title type='text'>School of Love</title><content type='html'>i refuse to fall on my human flaw&lt;br /&gt;as an excuse for my errors&lt;br /&gt;i err yes cause i am imperfect&lt;br /&gt;but more because i do not know&lt;br /&gt;i am a student in your classroom&lt;br /&gt;learning you, your heart, ur needs&lt;br /&gt;learning what is required to make u happy&lt;br /&gt;i am a child here&lt;br /&gt;eager to learn wat is required&lt;br /&gt;to take up the responsibility that is ur heart&lt;br /&gt;and as a student, at times i will fail&lt;br /&gt;at other times i will excel&lt;br /&gt;but i shall not be ashamed to fail&lt;br /&gt;for it is in failing that i learn&lt;br /&gt;and never shall i be slow to apologise for my errors&lt;br /&gt;because this class matters to much to me to be taken lightly&lt;br /&gt;so i will spend sleepless nights endlessly&lt;br /&gt;i will read every manual&lt;br /&gt;i will do wateva it takes&lt;br /&gt;till i recieve the graduate honor&lt;br /&gt;that is ur &lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;heart&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999506100321621625-5236009798817721649?l=removedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/5236009798817721649/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2009/02/school-of-love.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/5236009798817721649'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/5236009798817721649'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2009/02/school-of-love.html' title='School of Love'/><author><name>Macy D'funk Labunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13039089024516834925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_x9tPRekJG6k/SZ4-9mX-wkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RWotkl-7Eg4/S220/wwriters+pen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999506100321621625.post-3567609625051638352</id><published>2009-02-19T21:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-19T21:39:49.337-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Nerves</title><content type='html'>This 6 shots of gin&lt;br /&gt;2 shots of whiskey&lt;br /&gt;8 pints of beer&lt;br /&gt;3 rolls of weed&lt;br /&gt;2 times puking at the corner&lt;br /&gt;1 time vomiting in the bathroom&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This sweaty hands&lt;br /&gt;6 lads proding and pushing&lt;br /&gt;A bartender cursing and swearing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is 2 more shots of gin&lt;br /&gt;a whole pack of breath mints&lt;br /&gt;me totally disoriented hoping i dont remember this tomorrow&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is shots of E and&lt;br /&gt;2 more spiked drinks&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;its taken all this for me to walk up to you just to say hello&lt;br /&gt;its taken 5 hrs 28 mins and 17 secs to get me here&lt;br /&gt;standing in front of you just to say hello&lt;br /&gt;2 catch ur attention for the possibility of a smile,&lt;br /&gt;maybe a name&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;only for your damn boyfriend to walk in and take you home....shit!!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999506100321621625-3567609625051638352?l=removedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/3567609625051638352/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2009/02/nerves.html#comment-form' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/3567609625051638352'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999506100321621625/posts/default/3567609625051638352'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://removedmind.blogspot.com/2009/02/nerves.html' title='Nerves'/><author><name>Macy D'funk Labunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13039089024516834925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_x9tPRekJG6k/SZ4-9mX-wkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RWotkl-7Eg4/S220/wwriters+pen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry></feed>
