Xanga Archive

Today was a long, slow day….  I’m glad tomorrow is wednesday….  that’ll be a little easier on me.  I hate operating on like 4 hours of sleep.  It’s rough.

I tried using my spare car key today….  it turns out the guy at walmart did a pretty poor job of copying it. I tried using it and it failed to work.. then came back and looked for my regular keys (which my roommate lost).  Upon finding them… the copy that they made me doesn’t even LOOK like it’s a copy of the key.  The guy that made it must have been on crack or something.  Geez 😉

Anyway… the thing I was going to write.  It probably sucks, and I haven’t really put too much effort into it.. like I haven’t reread it and made changes and such… so.. yeah.  I’m sure it’s not any good, but here it is anyway.

And now… without further ado…

“He rose from the east, bold and shining with the rising sun.  Strong and powerful; clearly a man to be reckoned with.  Shining eyes took in the world; a world of desperation.  It challenged him, this world.  It challenged him, and he accepted.  Upon himself he placed the duty of protection.  His strong arms a shelter for the broken.  His heart an open vessel for their burdens.  Into it was poured hatred, bitterness, resentment, hurt, and fear.  It beat heavily.  He bound himself to them.  And dark times came.  Taking to his sword, he met the attacks, steel for steel.  And in doing so was inflicted with wounds that should not be his own.  Overrun, he collapsed to the ground in exhaustion.  Broken, covered in dirt.   “He is nothing.”  The people shook their heads, ashamed in their trust of this man.  He lay shaking, sobbing, choking on blood and tears.  An arm reached out towards his people, as men in glowing armor rode past him on horseback from the west.  His eyes lost their shine, as his people chose their new lords.  Strength ceased to flow through his veins.  His spirit was crushed under the setting sun…  There is no hero.”

And now to quote a song 😉

“Spring comes slowly to this old friend.
Still I’m frozen, I still live alone.

In time memories fade, senses numb,
one forgets how it feels to have loved completely.

Love well young man, while you still can.
Once your leaves turn you won’t love again.

In time memories fade, senses numb,
one forgets how it feels to have loved completely, completely.

Is it special when you’re lonely,
will you spend your whole life
in a studio apartment with a cat for a wife?
The seasons, when they call you
do you barricade the door?
Are you stubborn, stubborn,
stubborn to the core?
Is it your way or the highway?
Is it your way or the highway?
Is it your way or the highway?
Is it your way or the highway?
Then the longest winter is on her way,
you called her without knowing it
but now it’s too late.”

-“The Longest Winter,” by Pedro the Lion