| Lol. I almost forgot about this whole xanga deal As he stood beyond the crowd claiming to have done something for the ages, he slowly reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small piece of paper. He unfolded as if it were goldleaf. He gently rolled his neck and uncomfortably cleared his throat as he stood in front of 30,000 people. His mouth opened as if it dared to speak but to no avail, nothing came out. The mouth once again tried to communicate and was barely successful as it pronounce but half a syllable. The nervous system at this point kicked into overdrive and his eyes dialated, his breathing became heavier, and all his senses became keen. Panic did not takeover however. An obvious calm rose about him and from there he regained composure. This time the mouth and throat worked in unision as it attempted a symphany of vowels and familiar sounds. Steady handed he held the scrap of paper up closer to his eyes so his aging eyes could clearly see the scribbled jumble that was suppose to be a ticket to legendary status. "My eyes have seen the coming of the Lord. And unfortunately, He is not coming home. He has forgotten circumstance and promise. He has forgotten cause and effect. He has forgotten creation and purpose. Now his intentions are aimed at annhilation. To destroy the very dirt we survive and thrive from. From whence came life, has now given birth to death and forsaken gestures. Even as I stand here the very soil that keeps this stage standing and you from sinking, is erroding quickly from the inside out and from the outside in. 1931, my fellow inhabitants of God's abandoned project, is the year that an ending would mean mercy and thoughtfullness. Still ever so unfortunately we are doomed to be prisoners of world that will eventually tear itself apart with greed, religion, want, hope, jealousy, slothfulness, and hate. We will kill our fellow man so quickly and so often, that in order to bury our lost beloved into the ground we will have the need for burial plot bidding wars. The highest bidders will get to bury their loved in mass graves as if we will erraticating our own. Genocide gentlemen, genocide. An age where white collars will do nothing for the man who gives him business because his need for more and more has consumed his heart and motivations is coming my friends, I promise you that. The sun will rise to murders and burgularies of the night before. The streets will be washed clean from the tears of the jobless and the homeless. The sun will give to light to the skinny bones of hungry children and fat bellied and walleted trust fund men. I just wish the seas will rise about the nations and wash our soiled sinful hands clean of the chaos we have set into motion. This depression is just a minor incident of those that will come. I am tired of waiting on the word to change. I am tired of always waiting, waiting on You I Am. I Am should be I am nothing. I pray the Lord smites me so I may be released from this purgatory caught between hell and hell on earth. Care not I any longer for the ways of those who claim themselves holy. They are liars sitting on liar's chairs and navigate us to believe in tall tales of whales eating men and men walking through fire unharmed. I used to hold religion but I have thoughts and apparently thinking can kink up this faith ordeal. Car not I for what you may say about this. Just right this down so one day scholars of the future may look upon this day as the day that someone called God out on his "great plan" and told the people what really may come of us." He finished abruptly and casually turned away from the microphone to no applause, no shouting. He turned away from silence and never looked back. He then crawled into a whiskey bottle and never found the mouth to keep from drowning. This was the 30's Nostradamus, and he was bitter about knowing the truth. |
