| I AM THE KILLER!!!!!!! |
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| 12:46pm 07/04/2003 |
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If i was a serial killer i would be Jack the Ripper. Jack the Ripper, by far the most notorious killer of all time. What would drive a man to kill 5 prostitutes, surgically mutilate the bodies, then stop, to never be heard from again? Most of the murders were pretty much the same, the victim had her throat cut and her abdomen exposed, the intestines were placed over her right shoulder and sometimes a kidney or even the heart had been removed.
Jack the RIpper's murders are still unsolved.
Kill count: 5
Find what serial killer you would be, Take the Serial Killer Quiz now!
| When i kill myself i'll... |
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Hey! can't write much right now, But I shall return later |
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| must... not.. crap... pants... DAMMIT!!! |
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| 01:16pm 24/03/2003 |
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The reason why I haven't written, is clearly plain to see, I've haven't figured out just yet what's going on in me
I dunno, I've been fucked up lately and my outing with Meriko was the most fun I've had in a while. So it's official, the wild, crazy luci that you've all grown to love is on a mental hiatus. hopefully he'll get back to yall soon, but unitl then I'm afraid you'll all have to settle for this mundane attempt to keep going and going and going, with out nowing where I'm stopping, stopping, stopping.
so settle in for a long ride, however short it may be, but leave a message at the beep, you know it'll get to me. |
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| ??? Don't ask me ??? |
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| 09:06pm 25/02/2003 |
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mood:  uncomfortable music: Cypress Hill and House of Pain - Jump around
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Feel the wind blow through your hair, Stop and think, "was I really there?" so take a breath and try to be do you believe in desteny? see the world through all it's shit why try to be a part of it. Set the blaze afire, see Methane burns so easily and as the world begins to burn feel your stomach start to churn that's the price of freedom see? But do it yourself, don't take it from me.
Love is not what I got, all I got is a stalker, and estranged best friend, and a pot to piss in (figritively)
getting tired of this shit why do I put up with it? "light" a cross say his name in vein, just fuck it all, it's all the same
Another thing that bothers me is how just because your a nice guy for the most part (or in my case passive aggressive), People think they have the right to try and fuck you over, well fuck that and fuck them.
Feel like I'm falling, Closer to the ground, a little bit just past half way, I stop and turn around
Nothing's relevant,not even gravity anymore, so why not take a walk on the sky and say hello to all those beautiful birds, hell, teach them a new tune while your up there, there's only so much one person can take.
Past the point of breaking racking up my brain as the player starts to break you start to go insane, Balls are dropping pills for poping make the chem's begin to flow the world is as an oyster but who the fuck would know
Stupid fuck Left sided, right wing "I want to be so political because it's the only way to rebel against mommy and daddy" fuckers, what ever happend to free form, or free thought. Screw the poppies, where have all the philosifers gone?
The only true knowledge is knowing you know nothing -Socrates
That was said over 2000 years ago, but it still rings true. so fuck, here's your assignment lady's and gent's, try to think past all those pretty little possessions and be as a buddist monk, for about an hour or so just meditate and try to shut that annoying voice in your head right the fuck up. and then let the appifanies flow
sorry for making this so long, I doubt anybody will EVER be bored enough to read this whole thing... but thanks anyway
Sadistically your Lucy Meander |
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| !Vive Le Hunter S. Thompson! |
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| 01:06pm 25/02/2003 |
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We had two bags of grass, seventy-five pellets of mescaline, five sheets of high-powered blotter acid, a salt shaker half-full of cocaine and a whole galaxy of multicoloured uppers, downers, screamers, laughers... And also a quart of tequila, a quart of rum, a case of Budweiser, a pint of raw ether, and two dozen amyls... but the only thing that worried me was the ether. There's nothing in the world more helpless and irresponsible than a man in the depths of an ether binge...
Now this is how I want to live, think about it, you and your buddy(ies) going for a road trip to Las Vegas with a trunk full of drugs! now how can anybody lose? for the individual as myself it's all the drugs all the way, but it also meets the needs of the "Pain Junkies," the "Raving Alcoholics," and yes even the goody goody tourist's that only came along because they know your cousin bob or aunt ruth or something like that. ANYWAYS, getting back to the topic at hand, Vegas and alot of Drugs, think of the opprtunities and life experiences you'd have!
so now that that rant is done, I bid you all a farewell, and a good-day! |
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| MY SHITTY POEMS!!!!!! |
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| 03:01pm 22/02/2003 |
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mood:  contemplative music: Beastie Boys - Sabatoge
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I Love shitty poetry, so here's my attempt!
Soft images dancing With a bright, Vibrant, Pulsating glow. Something is new, Dancing, Spinning and twirling. Speakers churning To the rhythm of motion To the left, laughter To the right, amazing sounds Voices speaking irrefutably to each other Steady beats to Sway, Dance… And yes, sing to Pounding Pounding Bass pushes past In a wave of False sent feelings Warmth surrounds Sent both by Body heat and cold stares Light-headedness prevails Sways of rhythm Shakes of refreshment Then the smell of Incense Wild rain Sex on the beach And Lavender Fumes dancing and delivering their own Sweet Kisses Touching the nose then the Lips A whole New World of sensation Flavors moshing to the tune Dancing past the tongue, to the teeth, then the Head Washing over like a thousand waves Quicken the Heart Move the Body Touch the Soul To finally Become The Music
(I can Feel the blackness of my mortal soul getting even blacker with this one)
Have you ever watched your best friend die? Seen their throat cut and not been able to help them? I have. It changes you, makes you different on the inside. It takes years t change back and even then You’re still not the same You have a place, Deep inside, That’s always trying to break free. Years of practice keep the beast dormant, But at any time it’s free to break loose Free to run rampant Using your body, Corrupting your soul. You can feel the beast at all times You start praying for it to stay dormant Begging for it to sleep.
My beast has been awakened I hear it telling my the most horribly beautiful things Acts of destruction and death Acts that sound overwhelmingly beautiful The joy of letting all the pain and torture of a lifetime go free In one beautiful moment of terror, Of death The beast makes the thought of being a one man genocide sound appealing And it’s only been awakened for a few short hours. The longer it is present, the more convincing it becomes Let the blood flow forth Choose the tool that best suits your trade, The trade of blood, Of maiming, Of the end
Your body becomes the beast’s tool Your weapons merely extensions of its will You see, hear and smell everything as you gouge, rip and sever the flesh It taste’s sweet as it touches your lips Their screams become the most beautiful music And you can help but want more The first few acts are merely a “warm up” you see The beast’s way of testing your conviction And then comes the final act You feel the urge to destroy many Where as the first were “isolated” incidents You keep seeing, hearing, and smelling the death of a room full of people Maybe it will happen on a crowded street, Maybe at your place of work But it will happen Screams will come from all directions A sensory overload of beauty Of death You want to paint the walls with the blood of all those who have crossed you You want to decorate the furniture with severed limbs You want to have it all Then the beast gives an odd command And without questioning you obediently obey “Take the eyes They’ve seen everything, you know what you must do. Take them Put them somewhere they’ll never be found”
As you swallow the eyes of all those who have fallen you hear it say “Yes! You have understood, Now complete the act This is the final scene in your play of destruction Finish it! Finish it now!” Without thinking you lift your tool Place it to your throat And end it all with one instinctive motion You have finally fallen to the beast’s last wish But this does not end its reign or terror Fore in every newborn child it has a chance to take hold And live its wishes Patience is the beasts’ game It has been around since the dawn of man And no living being can beat the beast at its own game Cain was the first to fall And you will not be the last |
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