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I want to feel the beautiful, deep melancholy of everything thats happened. I want the rainforests to grow again and I want the concrete to sink into the ground and never be seen again, be swallowed up by the land it swallowed. I want the seas to wash us clean, so we can be the beautiful freaks we were meant to be. Wednesday, 9 November 2011. A thin pane of glassy pain. Seems to be separating us right now. Its icy to the touch, and fills. Me with a chill that it may never melt. Monday, 31 October 2011.CONTENT
This web page scribbledline.blogspot.com states the following, "I want to feel the beautiful, deep melancholy of everything thats happened." We saw that the webpage said " I want the rainforests to grow again and I want the concrete to sink into the ground and never be seen again, be swallowed up by the land it swallowed." It also said " I want the seas to wash us clean, so we can be the beautiful freaks we were meant to be. Wednesday, 9 November 2011. A thin pane of glassy pain. Seems to be separating us right now. Its icy to the touch, and fills. Me with a chill that it may never melt. Monday, 31 October 2011."SEEK SIMILAR DOMAINS
Being diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia has turned my world upside down and inside out. I have never felt so alone in all my life, finding out people are not real, nothing was real. This is a blog for me to talk about my fears and stuff. Saturday, October 6, 2007. I lay languished in a world i knew nothing about. Not daring to discover or move,. Attempts were made to run. Where i found my feet stuck.
Vanessa ON, Canada 1985. My spare time has been dedicated to those social outlets of late.
Music Inspired by Taras Shevchenko, Ukrainian Poet. March 10, 2013 by Michael Plishka. I quickly remastered them and posted them to YouTube. They were both recorded on an old 4-track. March 10, 2013 by Michael Plishka.
Revolted and disturbed at what i have converted into. You either too smart or too dumb to find God. This time i think i have gone a little too far beyond ungodliness. I think i have crossed some sort of indiscernible line. I think i have entered into a precinct where to me your name is as petite as a grain. Where your absence means liberation. Each day i carry this tormenting pain. I hope you are not humiliated.