glowing_crap Squalidangel We are the all singing, all dancing crap of the world.... But within we are all stars...Our shine cannot be seen through the layers of old navy and maybeline. We can't rise up to the heavens because we are to busy watching tv..pumping gas...selling books ( smile) and eating taco hut. What do you want to do before you die...??? You better start working towards it cause you never know when you life will end...? 040610 ... witchesrequiem I just want to be happy..... Only real goal I NEED. 040611 ... psychos joy i want to live before i die, no hopeless wishes left out to dry, id did it, theres no need to cry. 040611 ... superleni when you had too much uranium for breakfast. stinks *and* burns your eyes! easy to avoid on footpaths. helps you find your way home at night...or to the dunny. 061013 ... phil A curiously glowing thing. In a curiously dark corner. In a daylit street. The poo stink was probably just something in that potted plant in front of the restaurant, you kid yourself. You had to move closer, testing the odor once again with nostrils flared, before the subtley hooked wind caused you to pause and back away. You turned onto a young innocent passer-by. "Hey kid look at this neat rock I found!", your voice carries many meanings across. Enticed to venture a look the lad is delighted to find accurate your description; after witnessing the abusive rampage of his drunken father, life had revealed it's good side. At least that was before the instrument of all destruction, desire, curiosity without expectation, the soft mush, and nothing with which to wash off a glowing crap smear which is settling deep down into the pores of his nubile flesh consuming this flame of joy, was yoinked from the corner. The realization took 2.2 seconds after initially grabbing. "Ah this stinks!", he pouts angrily, loudly, as you head out of the way of that glowing crap hand and into the rush, where, free to revel in the treasurous memory of a little boy's tounge lunging as excitement turned jarringly into a firm frown and a smile reversed in disgust, you feel heightening waves of delight being sent through your heart beaten breast, driving laughter insanely from a deep dark pit of your uttered soul, wicked and windless, is your reward. 070322 what's it to you? who go blather from