Villains knocked down your down your door.

They stole your heart.

When it lost it’s worth,

they broke it.

They left you in the tower, unable to fly.

I flew to the top.

I carried you down.

I showed you the beauty in you.

I am your superhero.

I am your friend and strength.

You are my love and dreams.

My everything.

Your father hates me,

but he had the key to that tower.

Everything I do is for you.

I won’t let you down.

I’ll lift you above the skyscraper.

I’ll help you reach the sun.

I’ll rescue you from your pain.

I am your superhero.

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Sings-Songs and Injustice…

Pmespeak's Blog

Drone_321“Don’t struggle to get what you want—instead—modify your wanting.” Poverty—is not a ghost—current or an appearing—apparition…Poverty is present—poverty is not a future threat—poverty is now—poverty is harsh—poverty is real—and the result—is Revolution…And! Poverty is a ‘not-crime’—Greed is Crime against Humanity…

“The correct path against injustice—is—civil disobedience.”

Is nature—the force—causing us movement—through lives—of our own—creative—creations? Are we creations—to remain—objects without—motion? If forced—are we able—to sleep-creep—through life—quietly afraid—to disturb—silence—too loud to understand—and—too quiet—to tolerate? Too many—situation seekers—lost and discovered—by—sane folks and through—madness? Just wishes—causing words—to express—desires—wants—directions and confusions? And! Sometimes—this direction-in-word—herds—‘heard’—and will sometimes—just ‘appear’…

“Of all the enemies to public liberty, war is, perhaps, the most to be dreaded, because it comprises and develops the germ of every other. War is the parent of armies; from these proceed debts and taxes; and armies, and debts, and taxes are the known instruments for bringing the many under the domination of the few. In…

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Arthur Miller’s Fall from Grace

Micki Allen

Oh my, randall smoot’s just opened a great big ol’ can of worms concerning the separation of artists and their work. This is a subject that causes much wailing and gnashing of teeth in the Allen home. It’s a constant debate, although I usually just heave a heavy sigh and lament the fact that my lust for the arts always wins over my scruples.

I applaud randall’s ability to sum up the quandary so succinctly in this article, especially with the following passage,

“I don’t require artists to be good people in order to admire their works – any more than I need inventors to be nice before I’ll utilize their inventions. If I found out tomorrow that Thomas Alva Edison was the biggest asshole who ever lived, I wouldn’t go back to reading by candlelight…”

Take a gander at the original post in its entirety at Arthur Miller’s Fall from Grace.

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College and the USA


Most of the time life is great. Other times, not so great.

I am in love with the USA🇺🇸. I can’t wait till I get the chance to visit. I originally wanted to go to college in the US, but unfortunately I am stuck in SL for a couple more years. Hopefully, I’ll be able to come after I finish my degree here. I was pretty disappointed that I couldn’t have the whole American college experience, but everything in life happens for a reason.


Anyway, I start college this March. I’m the kind of person who actually likes school. Not that I am the goody-two-shoes teachers pet. My high school teachers hated me, but I got acceptable grades so they couldn’t complain. I love the fact that now I get back to the everyday routine of school and activities. I love making DIY school supplies and stuff. I love organising…

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I might be smiling

The Journey of My Left Foot (whilst remembering my son)


Sunday 24th January

I might be smiling
But I’ll never forget you.
You may catch me laughing
But you’re there, in my heart.
I’m making plans
But I’m taking you with me.
I’ll keep on keeping on
In your honour, in your memory.

I exist now, teetering on the edge:
The edge of then and now,
The edge of before and after,
The edge of together and apart.

Two emotions occurring together:
Hopefulness and heartache.
Delight and despondency.
Happiness and sadness.
Pleasure and pain.
Joy and sorrow.

I think of you, and I smile,
Then, all at once, I’m sobbing.
I recall an event, and chuckle,
Moments later, anguish.

A public mask, a private melancholy.

The new normal of coping without you.

I love you baby.
Missing you like crazy.
Beloved son.
Forever young.

xxx xxx


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