youll find out It is screwed up, but maybe soon it will get better 010918
Dafremen You'll find out,

It will get better.
Aimee Daffy, how do you know it will get better? What if this is as good as it is gonna get? 010919
silentbob im the boy everyone likes to hug. 010919
Dafremen offense..seriously..but do you know how many times I hear similar questions? How do you know that? How do you know that? I don't...noone does. All of my "knowledge" is little more than guess work based on observation of probabilities. The VAST majority of Young Adults who think that their life couldn't get any worse and that it WON'T get any better ARE WRONG. That's greater than 85% of the time..hell I'd be willing to wager that it's greater than 90% of the time. Of course those that kill themselves will have to answer that question for it any better back in the ground you poor misguided little dipsh*ts? Well? Is it?! (Excuse my digression.)

It will get better Aimee...that's my guess, and some would say they're better than most. You decide.
Norm Is better than anyones... I love my life! 010919
flippo im a goddamn fuckin saint compared to you people 010919
birdmad i have been all sorts of shit

i could make a bad movie about my life
(i'm already writing a thinly veiled novel about it)

former priest wanna-be,
serial sex addict,
aspiring musician & artist,
bar bouncer,
electronics technician
and now faceless bureaucrat.

the scary part is that with a few rather obvious exceptions, i can sense myself becoming relentlessly more "normal" as time goes on.

sEth Its my life mom, and you fucked it up. So the least you could do, is leave me alone. 011110
princess i think we must have the same mother. 020612
Billy Collins Sometimes I see it as a straight line
drawn with a pencil and a ruler
transecting the circle of the world

or as a finger piercing
a smoke ring, casual, inquisitive,

but then the sun will come out
or the phone will ring
and I will cease to wonder

if it is one thing,
a large ball of air and memory,
or many things,
a string of small farming towns,
a dark road winding through them.

Let us say it is a field
I have been hoeing every day,
hoeing and singing,
then going to sleep in one of its furrows,

or now that it is more than half over,
a partially open door,
rain dripping from the eaves.

Like yours, it could be anything, a nest with one egg,
a hallway that leads to a thousand rooms--
whatever happens to float into view
when I close my eyes
or look out a window
for more than a few minutes,
so that some days I think
it must be everything and nothing at once.

But this morning, sitting up in bed,
wearing my black sweater and my glasses,
the curtains drawn and the windows up,

I am a lake, my poem is an empty boat,
and my life is the breeze that blows
through the whole scene

stirring everything it touches--
the surface of the water, the limp sail,
even the heavy, leafy trees along the shore.
Cole That was beautiful. Thank you. 021203
information cole,
billy_collins is a semi-well known published poet.
if you liked that, you ought to read more of his work.
three words my_life existance_or_bust a_litle_lifes_fulfill_life 060309
what's it to you?
who go