A diatribe

ShinyStar 2006-02-18 15:06:08 ET Before: Scratch my soul My Jacob Grace Passé vaults of ordinary Boring and forced by decisions Need not apply. Let every kiss be an accident. Let unpredictability destroy What I thought I knew Laugh when I cuss Adore me when I growl I beg you please Make it real Make it different After: "This Generation's Love Story" Jacob Grace died alone in his ocean of deciet. The man who scratched Trixie's soul has left his body behind never to be found. Trixie cried the ocean forth from the hole left in her soul. Madeline and Simone don't use the swingset in the yard anymore time has ticked on by leaving the swings rusted and the museums closed for the season. Even the Jersey pinball machines have shown their age. Trixie smooth talked the saints she goldentongued the Lord God Almighty But, she had to keep going.

ShinyStar 2006-02-18 15:23:06 ET "Passion... it lies in all of us. Sleeping, waiting, and though unwanted, unbidden, it will stir, open its jaws... and howl. It speaks to us, guides us; passion rules us all. And we obey. What other choice do we have? Passion is the source of our finest moments. The joy of love, the clarity of hatred, and the ecstasy of grief. It hurts sometimes more than we can bear. If we could live without passion, maybe we'd know some kind of peace. But we would be hollow. Empty rooms, shuttered and dank. Without passion, we'd be truly dead." -- the venerable Ty King

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