3rd Book

Project Mother

Earth Written by:

BJ Murphy

This book consists the works of fiction & non-fiction. Names, characters, places, & incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination, used fictitiously, or was meant to be used for other causes. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locals is entirely coincidental. Copyright © 2009 by BJ Murphy Cover design by BJ Murphy for Foxdie Productions All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the author, except where permitted by law. For information or permission contact: BJ Murphy, [email protected] This book was set in Times New Roman & Chiller font. ISBN: 978-1449508609 Printed in the United States of America

I dedicate this book to my friend Orlando Velazquez. “til death comes knocking on your doorstep, nothing will ever stop you from truly living.”

Poetry

2 Year Long, Stay Strong The decadent lifestyle that falls in between Should always be left second, an adamant background Towards our never ending freedom to live before death, Living while cognitive, staunching the 2 years left. From grade 5, who knew, that you, the revenant stranger Of my past, would show up without the care of what Awaits within the future, party all night, Break the rules that holds our lives within boundaries. Just know, within the 2 year end, that we are friends And nothing will shorten the bolstering arms That I hold out to help you back up, to know that I will be there from life to death, no time in between. Just stay strong through the 2 year long, We'll have the time of our lives before you're long gone, I thank you for letting me know what awaits later, But today is the present, this is where we live. When the time does come, I'll be there to corroborate The great times that we have gone through from now to then.

Just know, 'til death comes knocking on your doorstep, Nothing will ever stop you from truly living. If you’re reading this Orlando then this one is dedicated to you

my friend. Me, along with only a hand pick few will understand what this poem represents & the meaning behind it. Just know that I’m glad that I was one of the few you told & I just want you to know that I will be there for you in the next 2 years, along with the rest of us. So I not only dedicate this poem to you, but I dedicate this entire book to you. Stay cool & stay strong my friend.

The Venus Project The spirit of the time has Awakened the world of Sheep. The networks are crashing on its own process, As another eye & mind breaks free. Watching the monetary system Fall on its own feet. This is the time when the world Knows change has finally come. A day when energy has granted us With the very beauty it possesses. Living free from the inhumane values Of society's sickness. This is the redesign of culture. Beyond politics, poverty & war. No religion can ever grant me this Heaven that is made by man themselves. A social structure that will evolve Equally with man & woman. No government, no hate, no religion, & no fate. This is how the world should live. So come & join, the future is now starting.

Be free together, this is the Venus Project. Let me first clarify that “The Venus Project” is a real project, which was started by a man named Jacque Fresco. The project was started to bring real change in this world by completely changing the system over itself. To end money use, end inequality, end violence, end crime, end war, end religion, end countries, end borders, etc. A world where we, the people, are all together as one while approaching this ideal with the latest scientific technologies using modern science. This has become a world ideal & millions have come forth to help make this project possible. So I felt obligated to write a poem to represent this phenomenal idea, in the hopes that it will soon succeed.

The Beginning The streets are stomped in waves As the restless become relentless. The demands are brought in regard For the very aspects we are never given. Stabled & mounted like a statue forgotten. Given no respect for what we are saying. Beaten by a baton gesture. Clamped in chains by slaved oppression. Showing the world that something is wrong. Showing the world that they've done nothing at all. Letting all know that this is happening. Killed in vain, the world's gone insane. This is how a revolution begins. This is just really to explain how, throughout each revolution, there will be pain, suffering, bloodshed, injustice, etc. But it’s for the greater good of the people that allows for those fighting to keep moving on. That, no matter what the police or the government does, the people will not back down if the cause is great enough.

The Ballot or the Bullet of X Speaking the words of truth. Not as an American or a patriot. This flag is not My flag, I don't Speak as a cherisher of that piece of cloth. Though I speak as a victim. A victim of the American system. Speaking as a victim for all Victims of the regime. Though you perceive it as the dream. As I know it as a nightmare. So choose; The ballot Or the bullet? X marks the spot. This was written in honor of the speech that was given out by Malcolm X, which was called “The Ballot or the Bullet”. It represents that neither the nation nor its flag will ever represent a person or his ideals, but rather discriminates one’s life & ideals. So really, you are put into a position of choosing whether you become one with the system or you go against it.

Infidel SCREAMINNGGGGGG DYINNGGGGGG KILLINNGGGGGG BLEEDINNGGGGGG INFIDELLLLLL In the world of the nations Developed under one's blood stain. Giving the system the very fuel That they feed upon. This is what they make us do. This is what they make us be. Infidels. Born as a slave, dead as a free man. The main idea behind this one is that, if you choose to do something different than what your government wants you to do, then no matter what you do, you are the enemy in their eyes.

Jesus Loves Imperialists Jesus loves me, this I know. For the bible told me so. Attacking nations, one-by-one. Taking aim as I pray to God. Bombs everywhere, this I can see. Killing everything that is in front of me. Launching missiles in the air. The wrath of God blasting the earth. Another child killed, left on the desert road. Smiling with my rifle, as I look down at my cross. Final destination, we've found what we killed for. Now taking control of the oil embargo. Jesus loves me, this I know. For the President told me so. Every time war is waged there always seems to be some religious ideal that becomes the very excuse of why it was waged in the first place. After 9/11 President Bush first announced America to be going to war with Afghanistan because of 9/11. Soon, that became apparent that it wasn’t the case. Then WMD’s became the very scare tactic to finally get us into the war. A couple years later, nothing was found & it became apparent once again that the Bush administration was lying once again. Though, Bush remained under the constant thought that God wanted America to go to war for our freedom. So, this practically became the very quote that kept the American people

agreeing to stay in this war, “Praise the lord & pass the ammunition”.

If Only You Knew As I'm texting you, a Spark hits my heart. In Me, deep inside you raj My soul. Hoping you'll be with me. I can't tell you how I feel, Listen to my heart, & hear the sea. This was just a time in my life that I was in where I was falling for someone that, for the most part, I only got to talk to on the phone through text. I got to see her every now & then, but texting was the main communication. Nothing happened of course, though I still wonder if it was possible.

Meredith Melancholy in a dress. Don't Ever fuck with this chick. She'll Raise hell on your Every move. So don't you Dare. Instigating her will only make Things worse. Just know, Hell is her playground. I had written this for a friend who noticed how, through my earlier writings, I would write poems about people by using their first name & then making a description of them in poem form. So I did this for my friend Meredith.

My Old Rocking Chair Sitting back in my old rocking chair, Thinking of the times of my long old past. Working hard for food on the table, And equally sharing the wealth of my life. Grazing crops for the coming depression, Now it's time to start the revolution. Giving up all the useless wants, And bringing forth the locks of the iron gates. Standing tall with my hammer & sickle, I will not fall down until you make me fall. This is my time, don't you try & stop me. I will resist the coming globalization. Shouting to the people with words of honor. One man may fall, but his dreams will stand tall. That was the life that I fought for. And today I'm sitting in my old rocking chair. This was made to tell a little story of how people back in Soviet Russia probably still feel to this day. Sure, Russia did end up in a spot where it practically destroyed all that it once fought for. The only one we can really blame is Stalin for betraying the Communist ideology & betraying his people, the working people. But it’s the people that will always remain within memory of what they struggled & fought for. And that is far more revolutionary than any other moment within history.

Understanding Love Behind the surface of my standing walls, Our connection together beats as it falls. Blindly loathing the features of our hearts. Sparking the energy from the very start. Giving up the very things of my unvital life. Living with you only, hoping you'll soon be my wife. I finally take that step & I ask for your hand. Your eyes begin to water there where you stand. You kneel there in front of me, knowing no reason why. You say that you're sorry, with a farewell goodbye. I can't believe what happened, I thought I was who she loved. I guess I have to thank you now, for now, I understand love. What I’m trying to say here is, not that love means what you lose, that you’ll never really find true love unless you go through the moments where you thought you saw love & then shown the truth. There’s no way you can tell between love & false love if you’ve never experienced false love in your life. And so, you should really give thanks to all those that broke your heart because they actually will have made your life better to understand in the future.

The Very System The exploitations of the very system That bewilders the poorly mass. Degrading women of the very system Giving them money if they show their ass. The corrupted nation of the very system Defacing man from the capitalist unions. The planned out scams of the very system Secretively discussed during the G20 reunions. Behold, you see, the very system. The capitalist-elite run system. Just a way for me to show how I feel this governmental system has turned into. Especially since the market crash, we’ve seen the true face of America’s ruling class & how they do business. Throughout the year, you’ve been getting doses of truth to a point where you feel if this system is even worth keeping alive anymore.

Swine Flu 14,000 is the yearly number Of the average flu human death toll. Yet only 20 died in 3 months By the so-called apocalyptic swine flu? The WHO is declaring level 6 Allowing more government control as their role. Call me a conspiracy theorist. I don't care. We all know you see the problem too. Now, the swine flu has gotten worse, I won’t deny that, but the reason for writing this was to show that, in the beginning, it wasn’t as bad as the mainstream media was making it out to be. There was so many scare tactics put forth to scare people into believing that whatever they may have it may be the swine flu. For the past few months there have been more false alarms than there were actual swine flu occurrences. Even Egypt went out of their minds on the situation to a point where the slaughtered thousands of pigs just so they wouldn’t catch the swine flu. To me, it just seemed like a Y2K incident, where people were freaking out for something that isn’t really bad.

Anjela Abound the beauty, Not always known, one Justifies the very Ever-lasting purity. Lovable over the most, Angelic by my view. This poem was written for a really good friend of mine, named Anjela. She, herself, is a poet as well, & talented at that. She soon will become an author & so this poem is for her & for her future in writing. Good luck Anjela!

A War Torn Orchestra Marching children of the land Bloody capital in my hand Bleeding all over the desert sand This is the propaganda war band. To me, every time I hear about what’s going on in the war, I feel like I’m watching an orchestra taking place. An analogy, really, that can take on two different sides of the story.

Try & Stop Us The underlying embracious unity That one takes upon through height & density. Gauging the soil with our ever bleeding hearts. Time skipping steps from the very start. Denying the existence of an ever-lasting soul. Embracing the bullet from the grassy knoll. Bellowing the distance, spanning with no wings. Aligning the epitome as a mind-liked king. Bragging our morality, starching through the woods. Grasping our own perplections from what is understood.

Pierced by the bullet, asking for its proliferation. Delivering omnipotence in our pacification. Demanding justification beyond the horizon. No disbursement can sail as our mizen. Professing the introspective ideological abnormality. Defeating the very potent battle grounded casualty. The perpetuation of the elongated wars Has prolongated our next determined course.

This is a stand-off against corruption itself within our world. Ranging from environmental corruption, to systematic corruption. You can’t just ignore it & think that all will be okay as long as you don’t mess with it. The problem is that it’ll eventually target you, or someone else you know & will put in a profound effect upon their daily lifestyle. It’s a problem within our world that must be acted upon every day. Whether there’s an end to it or not, if we do nothing about it then we’ll never truly know.

Mirrored Vultures The intrusion of our very simple rights Has masqueraded the very benign, once thought of, Lifestyle that we sheltered under our lives. Giving the over-demanded collaborations That we have perceived as true, wishful, thinking Only determines the pre-determined thought Of self-conscience morality. Bolstering our own weight of lies & deceit Has glamoured over the intensity of Our one nation's damnation, gladly giving a hand. Pointing & turning the backs of our dictated Necks, partaking in the elliptic shields, blinding The very compassion we hold dearly. Blaming others, under laments terms, as the very Creatures we are, mirrored vultures. The meaning of this is to really point to the true problem makers of this world. And guess what, that person is not beside you, behind you, or in front of you. It is you. Instead of pointing our fingers at someone when a problem arises, why not just look in a mirror & then point your finger. Because we all know, man is one

of the leading problems within this world now, & so it is up to us to take recognition of what’s going on & fix our mistakes.

Love Up, Love Down Love up, love down, love all around. The heart beated tempo has prospered over The consensual breaks of our hearts. Gapping the very lengths of prosperity only Leaves the branches of our blood stream to Over flow the main organ of life. To love up, you feel the need to exist yourself Beyond the one that is taller in knowledge & truth. To love down, you see the very picture that Has been shadowed in over your face, reconciling The very guilt of what you've come to be. Yet, no one is perfect, as we all know & said. Love is like the water of our lands, Love up, love down, cheers mate, love all around. Love, to me, is a very complex feeling of mixed emotions that we all squander upon & really get quite confused on some of its aspects. Yet, no matter what happens within love, you know you can get through whatever obstacle that needs to be partaken upon for that feeling of love.

The Birds & The Trees This is the story of the birds & the trees, Not always the same, day & night, across the sea. One standing & one flying, though both feeling The very congruent wind patterns across their faces. Both filled with indigenous livestock, going about Their days as the well mannered animized threads Of flesh they are. The bird is soaring over the Known sea, it's wingspan blasting its shadow over the earth. Though there lies the tree, waiting For its demise of the unbeknown slate Of foreknown fate. What is to come on the ancient island, not viewing All of its pleasures that is hold deep in the Darkened area at bay side? The shaded in outlines of the bird flowing, moving Towards the lively target, without an eye blink away, Can be seen as it gets smaller, smaller by every Inch it gives off. There the bird is, slamming the Tree. Rumbling the island's floor as if an earthquake Had persisted onwards out of the tree. Though, instead of the tree standing still where it

Stands, or the leaves popping off, falling to the side, There the bird witnesses the death of the tree. Without a "timber" being yelled, & without a known Thought of what is to come, there the tree falls on Its own feetless feeted trunk, leaving only nothing To remember by except the memory of the bird. What had happened that day, And why? Despite what you may think this poem represents, which you can see it as whatever you want, but the true meaning behind it is that on 9/11 a lot questions had risen that began to fuel a movement of disinformation. This became the conspiracy theories based on 9/11 that I, unfortunately, joined for over 6 years of my life. Then there was the “official story” that was released by the 9/11 commission. Though, I am a true believer that 9/11 was definitely not an inside job since the science proves it so, I remain a disbeliever that our government didn’t use that day to their own advantage. Look what was gained out of 9/11 for them. Two wars, the patriot acts 1 & 2, & 8 years & still counting of lost rights & liberties of the people. And so, I remain questioning what the governments hand in 9/11 was. Another aspect of this poem is the question of why these terrorists attacked us. Is it because of our freedom like George Bush said? You actually still believe they’re jealous of our freedom? The reasoning is because we’ve bombed them. We’ve killed thousands upon thousands of innocent lives over there before & after 9/11. Is it really a surprise that they attacked us? The only surprise is that they didn’t attack us sooner. And so, I ask, was war really the answer, or merely just progressing the problems that we must face, once again, within our nation’s future?

Foe of the Gitmo Show The frivolous contemplations that Underminded the truth behind the Red taped photos has revealed itself Within the shadows. Assuming the lesser of evils was What had participated, beyond the Bars & blinded top-notch security cameras. The raped residue left by the Unknown authorized authority has Gained the unintentional attractive attention Of the masses. Yet, the mass of the minority has The authority, as the unknown crimes Become forgotten. Believing the unbelievable is unforeseeable, Believing the believable is inhumanable. The political spectrum of the Gitmo photo is all a show. Release the unbelievable for your Mind to really know. During Obama’s election campaign, he had made a promise to

the American people that he would shutdown Guantanamo Bay (gitmo) prison & would release all information that pertains on what had happened that day to insure possible criminal charges that had been brought upon by the guards, themselves, within the prison system. And then, as Obama is now president, when the opportunity had risen to where pictures of what happened in there could be released, which was pictures of guards not only beating the prisoners to death, but also raping some of them as well, Obama instead decided to not release them, & not press charges against those that brought so much pain & harm towards the prisoners of gitmo. This was a slap to the face to the American people which just shows where Obama’s policies lie upon. The same that were given out when former President Bush led office.

Dear Jack Are we oblivious to the known Facts that has destined our undestined World, subliminally undermining the Very voices in our heads? Do you even hear what I'm telling You, demanding you, hoping the animosity Of your disillusioned life awakens even Further. The decomposition of your Ill-fated structure that you once Called life. Yet, you still please the Functional inactivity, a quainted feeling Of self-pity benevolence, clawing your Way through the thin threaded fleshy Structured walls to your heart. This is the time, without clocks & watches Dictating the day, to overcome the Propensity that we've both divested to Our lonely soul. But, if apathy has Become your next mythical, un-vital, God

Then the fate of you will mirror the World. Sincerely, Jack's Conscience A lot of us can say that we naturally have two sides of us lying deep within our conscience. One says yes, one says no. But which one do we act upon. And when we do act upon it, can we trust the other one within us, & if so, why? For the majority, our apathetic side has taken headstrong against our world. So it is still up to us to fix it, we just need to start truly listening to our conscience & do what we know is right.

What About Us? Dancing in the stars of the Fake smiling frivolous crowds, snapping Their dead-toned cameras at your Dead-toned face. Showing their Support in you, making a name out Of your life that they once judged. This is their control. This is how They make sure that what we should Know is never known. As you lay there, dormant 6 feet under, People praising your name in honor, There are those million un-heard of Names, their lives being taken in vain By the B-52 bomber raids. Let your name & your life be honored, But how about those that are never Known? Where are their thousand standing Celebrities singing & praying for them? Where is their condolence letter from

Mr. Obama? What about them? What about us? I had written this a day or so after Michael Jackson’s announced death, & even though I’m a huge fan of Michael Jackson’s music & true believer that Michael never committed such acts such as child molestation that he was found not guilty on, I couldn’t stand to see how the news stations were constantly talking about him & his death for two whole days when there was much more other news that needed to be released. To me, this showed exactly how our mainstream media works. It censors out the important news out & replace it with stories that are known would make world wide exposure. While this was all going on, the news media refused to air any word of how the U.S. military had launched a drone towards Pakistan, which killed 60 or more innocent lives during a funeral. So it’s odd how our media decides to air, for two whole days, a man that they once hated with a passion & give him honor, instead of giving respect to those lost lives by our own military. It’s sickening at the least, & truly shows where our nation stands.

This Is A Story This is a story where those that Wish upon a star & die waiting for Their wish to be granted. There are those that are granted On what they receive, not knowing They are fewer than the ones suffering. Given that no perfection is ever asked For, undermining the minds on what Should be done from what should've Been done. But if one was to listen to the world, Suffering under the immoral principles Of the private-based system, We'd finally realize what was wrong. Disallowing man to come together to Finally bring equality in the world just One step closer. Then there are those Who take advantage of the wrongness in The world, using it for their own

Personal gain. A reform where when you Look at one hand, bowing to all its Glory, the other hand stabs you in The back. This is not the change We asked for. We are tired of all the Lies. The world is demanding for this Story to be told. This is a story of the American Health Care system. I written this poem to represent the many things that are wrong about the American Health Care system. Millions of Americans are dying here because they are either uninsured or their insurance companies refuse to cover their damages for simple things like you're too fat or too thin, or you had this in the past, etc. Some of the stupidest bullshit reasons that one could think of. And the reason behind this is so these private industries can save millions of dollars for their gain, as millions die in front of their eyes. This poem is a call for a Single-Pay Socialized health care system. Here in America, the media attack those that speak the truth on the health care systems in Canada & France, etc. Our media attacks it with full force with claims that no one over there likes their coverage & have long waiting lists. That was until Michael Moore came along & exposed their lies. Since his documentary SiCKO, many Canadians & others have given out emails explaining their great personal experiences in their health care system. And guess what? It works. I also point out in the poem of those taking advantage of the problem. Here, I'm representing Obama's health care reform. As a Socialist myself, I cringe at the claims that Obama is a Socialist, knowing damn

well that he is far from being one. Their claims are based on his reform. What we have here is that he is allowing a public option while the private industries are still in control. Millions of Americans are still going to be uninsured & lots of money is still going to be granted to these crooks. Even Obama's once personal doctor has spoken out saying Single-Pay is the only way to go, & Obama is not doing it right. So here, I'm calling for all of you to please help support the bill H.R. 676. It grants a Single-Pay health care system where EVERY person is covered. Health care should be a human right. Not a right to those that can afford it.

Mystery Girl Hello my mystery girl, How far does the wind blow From me to you? Beyond from what is new & old, Only curiosity can really tell our Story, a story of new-day thoughts. It's as if we've known each other For so long, even though not a day Has gone by. You've fallen within my digitalized Hands, though still curious of where They've been & who I am exactly, vice versa. You've struggled within life, not exactly Knowing where you are, or who you know, But still partaking in the knowledge of Life, which only consumes your own mind. I know, if I was to be forgotten, that It would persist the detrimental feelings Raging between our wantings of real friendship.

I guess, after knowing the "Baby Girl" that All else knows about, that I remain curious Of you, & will remain curious because of My love to really meet those that are the Opposite of what we acknowledge within society. So please don't be afraid, for I am just As curious as you are towards me, My mystery girl. This was written for a friend that I had ended up meeting on a poetry site, called Editred. Well, she ended up telling me her story of how she’s struggled a lot in life by always going into the hospital & having problems of speaking now, though remaining highly functional within her brains functionality. As only a few days go by, her & me become great friends & really ended up talking for hours, not in a boyfriend-girlfriend way, but in a way where we just clicked as if we’ve known each other for so long. She became the mystery girl in my life that allowed me to become great friends with, & still am to this day.

My Logo is No Logo Racing the shadows of your metal carriage Gleaming past the signs of worship. Bellowing under the stomach for the sign Has led your hunger, blindly to a $5 Heart attack special. Sponsored racings of man in green - red Sneakers, placing a price towards every step. Though not knowing what you own ends up Owning you. Disfiguring your looks, mirroring the model 30 feet above you. Putting a price on your head willingly. A Botox injection massacre. Friday night is family night, pressing your Eyes against the screen of slaved marketing. Brainwashed beauty, demanding a late night Visit to Wal-Mart. Nike or Abercrombie? A magazine page-flipping Of joy.

A personal logo on your life, a corporate Slave to the logo. What you own ends up owning you! If you’ve ever seen the movie “Fight Club” then you’ll understand completely where I’m getting at with this poem. Throughout our lives we balance ourselves through so much corporate logos that we practically become that logo. That we practically become an non-paid representative of that company. And if we behave in such ways that the company you like to represent doesn’t approve of then you get punished hard for your “wrongdoings”. Humanity has basically turned it’s civilization into a corporate run slave-trade, & yet we do nothing about it.

Religion A neurological disorder, Tightly knit brain waves flowing Omniously through the Retrospective illusions of logicality. If this isn’t self-explanatory then I don’t know what is. This represents how I perceive religion as. As a neurological disorder within ourselves that makes believe that we are talking to a god or an angel, or even the devil. It’s not spirituality, it’s a disorder within your brain, which is backed up with science.

The Ward is Missing a Patient Askewed figures from the State of mind, allowing one to forlorn Into the ward of psychiatric help, while Others preach in the same way as those insane. A constant motion of thought, Demanding what is told inside your head. You're deemed out of conscious for the Crimes you've committed; Believing that The voice of your unseen friend took control In the regards of your action. I find this hypocritical, those that Have their life taken away based on the talking Of one's self, yet when others, under their People's pocket-value funded cathedrals, Speak as if one is under another's voice, They are put in high-value, as the leader Of theo-hypo-cracy.

The meaning behind this is to really ask what’s the difference between those people that get sent into psych wards because they have the tendency to talk to themselves, in the belief that they are truly talking to another person, & to those priests & preachers that think they’re talking to God? Are they not as dangerous as those in those wards? You can find so many different articles of people killing in the name of God, or because God or Satan told them to kill. Should we not send these people to wards also, & if not, why?

Mary Staring blankly into the vast afar, Tuning into the world of colored mirages. Desolating myself between reality & dreams While feeling the smoke smooth by my face. The sweet smell blooms as I caress my lips Gently on the rolled paper. Feeling the exhilaration pump through my body As I begin to hear each miniscule of a sound Around me. Dazing about through enchanting nothingness, Smiling as if nothing in the world is wrong. Not being able to help myself but to laugh, Taking in each moment as the best. Filtering the magic from mouth to lungs, Not caring of there being a tomorrow. Dancing in my mind, in tune with the world. Toking the very sensation.

I’m sure the majority of people that read this will understand what I’m talking about. But this was written for all my potsmoking friends out there who live to have fun & smoke up each day to represent it. Some of the smartest people I’ve ever met were pot smokers, & so I’ve always perceived pot smoking as just a plant that could bring great things within our world. Those that know the history behind hemp farming & production would understand this more than others. Someday, marijuana & it’s plant family will be legalized & the world will blaze together.

Convincing the Unconvincible Standing corrected is as if I had Lost my own soul, though still shamelessly Regretting the very foundations Of what we've conceived as being right. Blasting another’s standard of thought, Demanding for justification, an indoctrination Of me being the one with the answers. Deep inside I wonder what is the matter, Cluttering egotisticality under faith. Blindly ruling a counter-counter action, Giving all no hope unless it's of me. Waging info-warfare between you & your conscience, One is wrong for being right, as the other Is right for being wrong. A two-sided personality, Please God, what is the message? Adamantly failing on truly understanding.

Indulging only myself to the claim that I Know the answer. This is to represent the struggles of convincing something to a person that has already got their mind made up. That it’ll lead to problems for that person, not only to himself but towards the people that surround him.

History Repeats Itself Four o' clock Tick-tock on the block A now dying market stock. The dock Has a clock Stared at by the flock While one is holding a glock. Even a doc During his walk Can sense dangers knock As the stock pursue a failed mock. Please unlock The history lock We're in for a shock

By the again dying market stock. All of us remember what happened in 2008 when the stock market crashed once again. This was an inevitable even waiting to happen once again, just like it did back in the early 1900’s. To me, this was an event that truly allowed the people of the 21st century realize the problems about the crony-capitalism that we have built within our nation. To this day we are still suffering from the crash as millions of more jobs become lost. Unemployment is sky rocketing, & the bailout plan that was brought in by the Obama administration didn’t help like it was suppose to, so we just added on more to the debt. This is the very problem of our system. We use more money to fix lost money. It’ll be a never ending cycle until we finally end the capitalistic system & try something new.

The Tunnel My life is falling in a tunnel of nothingness. Drowning down the bowels of the abyss. Leaving back the very essence that I have ever lived & stood for. Dying once is more than enough That I just cannot stand. Follow me into the tunnel And tell me what you see. My life is growing thinner As the light is growing dim. My life is falling in a tunnel of nothingness. Drowning down the bowels of the abyss. I'm taking back the very things That I have ever lived & stood for. Hurry up & cast your stone Before it is too late. Setting back the time tables,

Further than what we can remember. Hoping now that a new life will Emerge from the tunnel. My life is falling in a tunnel of nothingness. Hold on, my hand is in the abyss. This was meant to represent how one struggles through life based on the decisions made in the past. And as you look back in the past you wonder if things would be different if you didn’t make that certain decision, or done any such action. It’s about how go down your tunnel that you call memory to try & search for the answers of what is to come next.

You Are Not God Can you hear the words of God? You think that you have all of us fooled. You believe that you are God. I cannot worship what you say Or what you believe is right. Live as I live, & die as I die, But know that you are not God. Sickest of the sick. Weakest of the weak. The profits that you seek Are gained from deceit. You're fucking all the kids And marking 666. This is your sacrament, One that I refuse to fit in. This is the age of dogma, You're being led like sheep.

This is a message to all the profiteers, You are not... You are not fucking God. Before you start thinking that this is a anti-Satanist poem, it’s not. I have friends that are true Satanists & the fact of the matter is that they are not what all religious orders try & make them out to be. But what this poem represents is the priests, preachers, “prophets”, etc., that claim to know more than others or claim to be God & have divine power. To me, it’s a sickening thing to see on how gullible of a race humankind is when they fall for things like that. So it’s a message to all those profiting off of sins that they’re not what they claim to worship & will never have more power than anyone else in the world.

An Ocean’s Melody Flowing gently through the world, Gliding it's sensation by every wave. Irregular patterns of past, present, & future Can be seen as the water splashes across The aging land of our mother. Even though the askewed patterns are Unattended to, the connection that it bares Holds the very key to our beginning. The sounds of our ancestors can be heard In the distance as the ocean sings it's beauty Into our oh so gentle ears. Our minds become unaware of the irrelevant Surroundings as we are fixed in by a Picture perfect painting of the only paradise. A transcendental disillusion is allowed to Take place in the body of no land. Deepening our conscience with the birthplace

Of our past, a time machine for all of humanity. Compared to all that is in this world, nothing is more peaceful, more beautiful, & more pure than the ocean. Every time I’m swimming in the ocean, whatever one it may be, I feel like there’s nothing in this world that could ever be more important than to just lay back & feel the cool water splash by me. The sound of waves to me is more utopic than the thought of a heaven or eternal life. It is my dream that, in the future, I’ll live on a beach somewhere & surf the waves ‘til the day I die.

Global Meltdown An inch away is all that it takes For the world to go insane. The people divided beyond repair Should be the sign that we are in trouble. Slightly hanging onto the cliff, Slipping by every finger. Hoping for someone to grab my hand, But no one is around to notice. "Danger Ahead", the sign reads, Though our minds are stuck to the TV. Demanding for half-priced furniture, While our lives are just rotting away. The Co2 pandemic has arrived, But no one seems to care anymore. We burn our oil & eat our meat, Believing that there will be a tomorrow. If only this was a dream, I'd

Wake up & and all of this would be over. Though reality stands firm, As we all fall into our own graves. Just a message to the human race that if we don’t start doing something about climate change, then there may not be a tomorrow for us to wake up to anymore. It’s a scary though, but it’s a scary situation that needs to be dealt with now.

Desperate Times, Drastic Measures We are about to be unheard, Losing our own minds; Can you Not realize that we are now dying? Please, bring back our old lives. We can't live in these conditions. The clocks are now running out. We've got to take a stand for what is right. Living in a world full of hate Is not what we were looking for. Why can't we get along, our world Is begging us, please understand. Our voices are thriving, A demand that is failing. Why can't we see all the pain That, together, are fulfilling? No longer marching the streets.

We are now taking it to the trees. We're not going to take it anymore. The time is now to strike to save the earth. We don't care if we go to jail. The earth is more important. Why can't you get that in your heads? We've got to take a stand for what is right. No matter what the situation is, whether it be war, poverty, world hunger, or climate change, it just seems that the majority of the world, along with those that work in Washington, doesn’t seem to be hearing us when we scream out all of these injustices. Climate change is one of the biggest ones with this problem. There are a lot of us that are willing to go to jail if it meant that climate change will finally be dealt with. Which is why there’s a lot of us activists that will take whatever drastic measure that needs to be taken to achieve such a goal to get those in Washington to start listening to what we’re saying.

Labor Day A not so grunted aggression of oppression Has led the streets to the streets that are led. Lending a hand to the hands of rough edges, Systematically raging in pitchforked line-ups. The workers of the world unite, a slogan never Forgotten. A day where all those breaking backs & twisting Necks join together during the peak of the postIndustrial age. The neglection of election to our powerful leaders Has risen from global hate, both past & present. Unity within equity, dominance over fluidity, a Dancing odor by the sweat of a man's brow. The difference between the workers & celebrities? As we work, our deadlines are unknown, as they Work, their deadlines are timed.

For we are rather working within time, Instead of trying to be on time. This is labor day. All this represents is the reasoning behind having labor day. It’s a day where all those workers in the past are celebrated upon that brought what we have to this day. It’s to show that no matter how many superstars, actors, dancers, & models there are in this world, it’s the workers of the world that are true holders of this nation.

Crime & Punishment Crime, the presence of an unattained Vulturous community that rags on the poor, But follows no pursuit of those that steal, "legally". An economic destitute of uncivilized civilizations, Brainlessly walking forward, cashing in your checks, Demeaning your self-security for security of the self. Bolstering the heads of the un-timely rich. Punishment, a grab-word left in a bucket as you Pull out while wearing a scarf around your eyes. On the back shows a name, a name without the means of Knowing punishment within itself in a system of "law". In a room of courts where one is guilty until proven Innocent, a room of innocence until one has the guts to Sneeze, then shamelessly thrown into the brink of caged madness. Here in America, the "terrorists" know the Definition of crime & punishment. It is a crime to punish, as the punishment is crime. Here I try to represent how our legal system operates during this

time of age. A lot of those that’s been to court always seem to notice that it’s no longer “innocent until proven guilty”, but rather vice versa. Then there’s the fact that there’s been a huge record of innocent people going to jail lately due to unjust laws & crooked rules. So it’s a call for an end of this particular “law & order” & the beginning of a new reformed version of law.

The Persistence of Memory As the time of day goes by, You ask, "What is a day?, what is time?" Can one really corroborate the persistence Of an un-timely memory? Ill-fated conjectures of the sub-conscious mind Overwhelmingly evaporates in the space of time That we, as sleepers by night & day, call our mind. Does the illusion of time fill our days with memories, Or does the illusion of memories fill our days with time? A desperate attention-span of non-social social reaction, Though more peaceful than reality, itself. Memories are dreams with boundaries, though through time, Become LSD trips without LSD to oblige itself. Though, when your time is gone & done, you may ask, Where is time? Where is day? What memory is left to persist upon? It’s practically self-explanatory, but just in case, what I’m trying to get at here is that, no matter what you do, time is oblivious because of how unpredictable it really is. People tend to believe that time is real & can be within control. The problem is that science has proven this to be a false myth & rather that time is

really just an illusion of what we perceive throughout our day as time. And then, when we think back through memory, we believe It be a time that is lost forever. Though in truth, it’ll always remain with you, even if you were to forget it. Time is just an illusion of what we make up within our lives. And so, time is just a memory that’ll live on forever.

Gay Pride A colored resistance of the known sought few, Though, rising ever so quickly, their voices still unheard. A clandestine of love speaking out for true reform. Hoping for a day where they are finally looked upon. Striking the unjust laws, speaking out for their lives. Knowing damn well that this is not their demise. Peace & love is all they are ever asking for, Never fearing the hatred that is placed against them. It's times like these that show, we as the people, have never changed. We've just become better consumers to dear old corporate America. Yet, when those that do speak, & show the people truth. They are pushed & attacked, called queers, such deceit. We can no longer stand by & take this dogma anymore. You say, "God Hates Fags", well I say, "That's Too Bad!" So let's rise together; Straights, Gays, & Bi's. "Free at last, free at last, thank god almighty, we are free at last." One of the problems in this world are those that choose to

remain homophobic as they go about their day believing such bronze age beliefs. The fact of the matter is that they are just as human as the rest of us & deserve to have the very same rights as any other human being in this world.

Goodnight, Goodbye Dying Un-timed night Falling asleep forever Finally knowing you've lived Goodnight This poem is really just about death in comparison to falling asleep. Not to give it such a gruesome feel to it like a lot of people try putting it out to be, or even to give it a fairy tale that one will live forever after death. It’s just to give it what it is, a time where you finally know that you lived your life as best as you could & now it’s time to leave. I believe that there must be an end somewhere. Not a “to be continued” sequence, but rather a moment where you just lay there & pass away. To me, that is far more beautiful of an event than your soul rising out of the body & going to heaven.

Nausea A realization of one's known existentialism. Grasping, within time, a meaning of one's life. Dying, without knowing what purpose they may serve, Embodying an existential angst, dying to know life. Sartre's spirit flowing by the speed of your footsteps. Believing you know meaning, believing you know belief. Why not the pursuit of knowledge, or the love of humanity? A life without belief, a life of the self-taught man. Remain confronted, for if one stands alone, One loses the plausible, just as quick as one loses the friends. Gaining conscious of now known truth of life. There is no meaning to life, for you live to make a meaning. If you ever read the French novel called Nausea, you’d probably get the meaning behind this better than others. But really, it’s just the realization of what your life is & what meaning you bring upon it.

The Fib of Death One Last Moment To jump in, I leap for the moon. ...Houston, we now have a problem. This was just a humorous attempt at a Fibonacci styled poem. It was actually quite hard to try & get a good feel towards writing this poem, due to how a Fibonacci poem deals with certain rules of how it is structured. Fun to write, nonetheless.

Zelaya A pulse in the streets that remain in beat, A tempo of fists rise up, a stampede by their feet. A clan of revolutionaries are forming, no questions asked, Against the rising coup of the Honduran village. The fascists believe that they are in control, Lying, so desperately, that democracy is their system. Planning deceit, a house arrest to their people. Scared to their bones, they know what is coming. The time is now, rise up & chant. Let this coup know that they'll never give up the fight. The people united, Zelaya & Chavez we honor. The red storm is now coming, the beginning of history. This is to show my complete support in the Honduran people & the ousted president of Honduras, Zelaya. What happened in Honduras was that a coup had risen up & used imperialist tactics to get President Zelaya out of office & take over Honduras. The reasoning behind this is because of how Zelaya, just like Fidel Castro, Hugo Chavez, & Evo Morales, decided to not follow the U.S.’s rules by doing what the U.S. wants them to do. He’s in the pursuit of a true socialist nation, & so this coup was taken over to try & stop this revolutionary change & implement fascist-like policies as its replacement. An action that, despite the U.S. government saying they’re in support of Zelaya, the U.S. government has yet to announce it as a coup & is signing deals with coup as well. And so, a revolution is now taking place as the Honduran people are standing up for their village & for their true

president, President Zelaya. And so, I’m in complete support of them as they destroy this fascist coup that has taken place in the hopes that a true socialist nation becomes reality.

Illuminating Mountains Foreth the beginning of light, Shall condemn itself towards night. A reminiscent towards the detrimental sky. God or no god, together, we shall say goodbye. I had written this after coming across a picture online of a mountain with the sun illuminating behind it. When I first saw it I automatically started saying the words to this poem. I ended up liking it so much that I decided to write it down & put it in this book.

Resist the G20 Battles raging through the streets of the unknown, Secrets being withheld by the richest of the elite. A meeting that has discoursed on its very promises made, The very reason why we stand here, speaking our disbelief. We march & demand for change to truly begin, No false hope or broken promises, no longer the deceit. You say that the economy will prosper with your plans, Though I'm seeing rising unemployment, raising larger than began. You made an oath that climate change would be your highest Concern, so why are we still funding big oil like a God? You deny the very words that were spoken at one time, So now you see us here, fighting G20 to the very end. You can oppress us & restrain us, you think you have the power. "Ain't no power like the power of the people, 'Cause the power of the people don't stop." During the G20 meetings, which consists of world economic leaders that come together to talk about policies that will be put into effect of our nation, a huge protest sparked as thousands of people marched together to speak out against the G20 meetings due to how they’ve lied on what they were going to do. Such issues like about the failing capitalist system & a huge portion of

it deals with climate change & how it’ll be dealt with. Many promises were made from the last G20 meeting, yet nothing happened whatsoever. And so, people protested & rioted to let their voices be heard.

Eco-Proletariat The workers of the 21st century Are gaining grounds, once unknown. Dancing their hammers upon the bricks, Instead of their axes towards the trees. Embracing the reform of a brand new economy, One that sustains towards all of man's needs. Standing firm, despite the economic disaster, Showing that, it is not war that fixes our roads, For it is the strength of the united workers. The oil companies are now in court, Being slammed to their feet, exposing their deceit. Knowing that the new era of green Is flowing in numbers, beyond the sea. Capitalization is now going extinct, As a new species is rising, slowly but effective. The environment is our mother, Yet we watched as an abortion took place. Time to change, an eco-proletariat, Please help, before our mother dies in vain.

This is a call for the workers of the world to unite together & take charge against climate change by starting an eco-friendly economy. As a Socialist, I put my support towards the workers, so it is up to them to lead the charge for such an economy. If they don’t end up doing so, then the chances of others achieving such will become far more unlikely as time goes by.

A Dying Dream Flowing through an empty surface I am now dying here, falling in place. Craving the wealthy gardens of our Simple minds, blasting the earth. But now you can't believe in what you are told, Blaming everything that you've seen or heard. Saving the memories of the very past, Why can't you see that we're moving really fast. Staunching the lonely rivers Of our mortality, enslaving our lands. Blaming the other side for our problems, Going beyond our time. But you just can't see what is really going on, Going back in space just to find your God. Popping all those pills that you find on the streets, Showing the whole damn world your insecurity. Fighting for your jealousy Through the inner walls, closing history. Begging for another chance,

You are wondering why, why can't this end? But the time is too late just to fix your mistakes, We've got to take a stand & fight the golden man. Plowing through grenades of a gun-wielding maid, Showing all your tricks, we're now leaving the sand. Listen here & understand, I won't say it twice, let's be serious. Everything you see here Is a dying dream, so let us make it real. The point of this poem is to represent the true dream within our nation that is held by the vast majority of our nation’s population. Not the “American Dream”, but simply the dream of a better world for not only our nation but for the entirety of our planet.

Wild Fires The trees burst in flames, A disaster left unheard. Mother Earth dies on. This was a haiku that I had written to represent the growing problem of forest fires that are taking place in the western area of our nation. Though, I will give respects to how there’s been a lot of talk of how to deal with this problem, I’ve yet to see anything done. Talking is great & all, but it’s the action that needs to be taken that’ll truly show the change we’re wanting.

The Cove Stretching across the ocean as far as I can see, Feeling the cool air breathe by my face as I stare in motion. A tune of life synchronizing by each splash of a wave. Though, a sound of suffering can be heard even further. The screams are not so silent, you just have to listen, As the whales & the dolphins scream for their life. Upon the Japanese coast, I fail to understand. What is the meaning of their torture, why can't this end? As they are captured & killed, you feel the pain as well. A sense of inhumanity flows with the water, turning bloodred. How is the ocean not covered in blood? The genocidal killings have gone on for far too long. It's times like these that you feel the world has lost hope, Yet the rage inside of you tells you to finally do something. So stare in motion, look at the cove & beyond. Know that this is the truth, know you are ready. They can send us to jail, they can call us terrorists. That's fine by me, for I justify this as my cause. I ended up watching this documentary called “The Cove”, & it really put a profound effect on me as it exposed the true horrors

of what’s going on in the dolphin skinning & whaling factories. This is a problem in my eyes, due to my strict belief that animals are no different from us & so they deserve life just like us. I wanted to dedicate this poem to those that are speaking out & taking action against the whalers & dolphin killers. I especially want to dedicate this to the Sea Shepherd Crew as they continue to try & stop the Japanese whalers from killing more whales in the name of profit & research.

I Am Love As one stares in the eyes of their lover Is there not a gap between each other’s heart? A timid feeling of not knowing what to do. Eyes burying deep into one another's pupil. Blazing mixed messages, an esoteric enchantment. A song of beauty is flowing in the air. It's a certain crave that one never seems to let go of, That, by the time it's over, the love remains immortal. I am a man staring at my wife. I am a man staring at my husband. I am a woman staring at my wife. I am a cousin staring at my cousin. I am a lion staring at my lioness. I am everyone, & I am everything. I am the feeling that flows through the hearts of millions, No matter who or what it is shared with, I am love. One of my strongest beliefs would be that, no matter who or what you are, you deserve to love whoever you want to love without anyone telling you otherwise. Who cares if you think it’s wrong, or if you think it’s disgusting. It’s love, & love will never have any boundaries, no matter how many rules will be implemented to try & stop such love.

Rising With The Sun Faithless hungry angels swore against me, And yes, I'm talking about Washington D.C. Welcome, behold, this is the land of the free, Just be ready to cough up that never ending fee. Take a look, the commie-fearing tyrants, Everywhere on the streets, all you hear is sirens. Friday to Thursday, a 7-day terror, One King is dethroned, but now, another error. Rising afar like the great red sun, Collapse post-amerika, now isn't this fun? Criminals with suits, black ties in a noose. Big banks & big oil, a capitalist with a deuce. Sweet sixteen, now get your never-needed, Possessing the works of the Chinese, failure treated. Blindly bestowing your life for security, While handing forth your very last liberty. So again, rising afar like the great red sun, Collapse post-amerika, now let's go have some fun.

I forget which song it was, but I was listening to some rock-hip hop song & was trying to think of a poem to write, & while I was listening to the song, & started going with its flow & came up with this politically charged poem speaking out against the very corruption that we are facing within our nation & dying world.

Livestock’s Long Shadow The agricultural impact of today's society Is far more important than ever before, for The actions we take upon is what will allow Us to know what to do now, & not for the future. The Co2 devastation is now having a love affair Within the factories of the meat industry, Destroying the planet an inch further by every Bite we take upon the once-living rotting flesh. The UN has spoken, now it's time for you to take action, Abandon your savage ways, embrace the green by day. Follow in pursuit for the truth of these industries, Demand for them to stop before our world is no more. Can't you see, the greenhouse is erupting, The meat-man is divulging, & we are consuming. Our daily lives have become far more detrimental Than any car, plane, or boat you will ever control, It is this truth for we must take upon, knowing That tomorrow may never come, for we are the planet's last Hope. I became dedicated in a way to write this poem ever since I read a report that was released in 2006 by the UN. It was called

“Livestock’s Long Shadow”, which it talked about how the meat factories were producing more greenhouse gases than any car, truck, plane, or boat combined. And so, this came up with the conclusion that if you were to go on a vegetarian diet or if you were to go vegan completely, then you’d be helping out against climate change far more than any other action you could possibly take. As a vegan myself, I found this to be a phenomenal find & decided that this would be one of my more important poems within this book.

Marcia Falling upon an unknown land, Marcia is holding the cross in her hand, Stamping her feet across the desert sand, Her very life has become a contraband. Staging herself within the midst of life Screaming in agony, far past the bars she holds. Begging for redemption, as she stares at the sky, Dead in the night, more hungry than cold. The sounds of bombs can be heard in the distance, She's begging to hear the screams, not the silence. Not caring that she's standing on someone's vomit, Begging & pleading for the end of the violence. 6 months without the sign of a druid, What's left in the mind is the memory of home. Dying, now weaker, she stands no longer, Laying beside a book about the history of Rome. It's all the same, bold text to reality, A mask that she's ripped from what she once wore. She hears the march of the Catalonian people,

Realizing that she's free, a slave no more. Over the shoulders, she stares back to see, Months of lies, no longer the contraband. A new life she begins, a victim of war, The cross left behind, sinking in the sand. This was originally suppose to have been written as a short story, but I found that I could possibly make it more powerful of a message by writing it in poem form. The meaning behind this is that the revolutions within our history have done more effect on our lives than what a lot of people like to admit to. Whether it be lost of faith of a God or towards a certain system, it’s an effect that gradually helps our kind understand more than what we once knew.

Anarchy In the depths of night on the Catalonia land, There breeds an army on the stateless sand. Warning the Franco forces to enter if they dare, Knowing that this is different, a workers revolt. Adamantly opposing the very policies they withhold, Standing in the front lines, ready & stout. A debacle has emerged between the state & them, A time of revolution, supported by 10 million. Behind the scenes, there lays an agrarian success, The commune of the people, a libertarian's dream. For three years straight the people gathered together As the war waged on, though people were before the profit. A territory run by vouchers, employment given to all, a society of equals, an equal society. The liberated zones of the citizenry rule, A system of true justice, bureaucracy was a myth. Even though they were eventually defeated, And their system dwells only in their memories.

The struggle will still move on in the hearts of the people. A dream that shall never be forgotten. This was truth; This was justice; This was freedom; This was Anarchy. Long live, Comrades. For it will become reality once again. As a supporter of the “Libertarian-Socialist” (anarchy) ideology, I always came to great interest to the story of Anarchist Catalonia from 1936-1939. For three years Catalonia was ruled equally between the workers of the area & kept it going until the Franco forces came in & slaughtered them all. They kept it within a manageable economy & made sure everyone had equal pay & equal goods to produce to keep the people away from starving. It was the first time that the world was shown that an anarchist society can work & did work. This is a vision of mine that I’ve always cherished in my mind, in hopes that maybe our world will soon adapt to an anarchist way of life where the world is run by the working people & government is no longer a thing of the future, but rather a thing of the past.

The Noble Nobel As a time of change, & hope in the air, We expose ourselves as the gullible race. We believe in what we are told will happen, As the leaders of the world go platinum. A war monger has left, we then had a chance, But instead we offer ourselves to a liar of peace. He broke all of his promises, is it really a surprise? Yet, here's the Nobel Peace Committee giving him a prize. What about Muntadhar al-Zeidi, the shoe thrower of Iraq? Where is his nobel peace prize, where was his chance? How about the Israeli high schoolers who chose jail over war? They'd rather live behind bars to make sure no one was killed. Pakistan remains bombed by the U.S. military drones, As the Iraq/Afghan wars remain waged by the hour. For a man who says justice will be done in Guantanamo Bay, Yet then refuses to even release the pictures. Even our climate was put into promise by our now leader, Saying he'll do all that he can to help reduce Co2. Yet, now all I'm seeing is the same I saw from Bush, He rather deserves an Oscar for being such a convincing

actor. So this is a message to the oh so noble nobel, Take back the award & give it to the one that deserves it. Obama, I'm sorry, but you truly do not deserve such a Prize, rather a mandate for the charge of war-crimes As you continue Bush's policies. As a Socialist, I’ve been quite skeptical of how Obama runs his policies & never really became a supporter of him, due to how he’s yet to keep a single promise he made during his election campaign. And so, naturally, when it was given word that Obama was given the Nobel Peace Prize, I became disgusted on how the Nobel Committee would give such a prize to someone that has continued Bush’s policies & has allowed the wars to continue & shipped out more troops than before. To me, the Nobel Committee lost all of its credibility when they awarded Obama the Nobel Peace Prize. But since Obama has it, this is my message to you, Earn It!

Please, Don’t Die This is the age of death, just look, The oblivion is drawing near. Falling faster than the very sea That we fail to protect. I won't let you die, but I will die for you, This is not how you should end, oh no. The oxygen is growing cold, As our skies warm on, I refuse to wave just yet. Why can't we change our ways, please say, We are dying alongside the globe. We're falling off the cliff, in the abyss, This is not how we should go. Damning the world of our mistakes, Yet never learning the very moral. We're now dispersing within the clouds Of the judgment we soon will face. I will not stand & let this happen, I swear that you'll make it, just hold on. You're not alone, the time to rise is now,

Just please don't die, here's our chance. This was simply a message to the Earth, itself, in the hopes that it won’t die soon as we continue to try & push climate change as the single-most important issue that needs to be dealt with.

Ardi Within the lands of the Ethiopian desert, There lays a fossil ready to be discovered. A find through history that'll change everything, No longer will evolution remain a theory. This is in honor of Charles Darwin, For it was him that led us towards the right path. The natural selection of human history Has now just partaken in the discovery of a life time. Though, as we dig through the fossil's history, We soon then realize that everything is now different.

We're now finally getting a step closer To the origins of our species. It was announced recently that a new fossil was found that could now prove the theory of Evolution, natural selection, to be true. The fossil was named Ardi, due to how it comes from the species called Ardipithecus ramidus. As a believer in Evolution, I found myself in a very blissful mood as I began researching a lot about this new fossil. And what gave me more delight was that it finally proved my theory of how evolution worked to be right, & that was that we, the human race, didn’t come from apes & monkeys, but rather the monkeys & humans came from the same species. Just that monkeys & humans had genetically split in two different directions within the evolutionary process. That is

why we don’t look the same, & would explain how the evolutionary process really works.

Check 1, 2, Rise Up! Sing me a story of all the disease, Blowing all of your neighbors & then we would flee. This is a story of slaved contraband, A never ending war within the sand. God is the excuse of our imperialistic plan, Seizing the oil fields & then we ran. A repeating culture of failing markets, Give us what we want or we'll shoot out rockets. Policing the world, domestic & foreign. Electing our leaders, next to kin. In a land that is warming & constantly drying, Where the rich are thriving & the poor are dying. Under the stars of our polluted sky, We're constantly fighting, watching all of us die. So let's come together & sing this story. Let's finally rule this world under "We!", not "Me!". This is just a call for equality & justice in our nation & in our world, instead of exploitations, corruption, inequality, disease & hatred. One of my more self-explanatory poems that I feel that, even though it’s easy to understand, it’s quite hard apparently to

achieve, but it must be achieved if we want freedom in this world.

A Decade Away The time is now ticking, as a new study has shown, That the inevitable is now only a decade away. For a planet that is dying as the cold truth is shown, The people within it never really seem to care. Though we have to take charge & do what is right, We have to let go of remaining such an adamant society. God is not here, so stop looking up at the sky for answers. The truth is in front of you, so do what you must do. Oblige ourselves with the very conscience of Transcendentalism, become one with our mother, live with Her, or die with her. Become tenacious of all that has happened in history, And know that we will never succeed if we, as a whole, Remain apart. Fuck what the cops say & fuck what the politicians say, Go out in the streets, climb Mount Rushmore, get on top of The Parliament, show the world that you are ready to do What must be done, become belligerent against the rules & Fight for another day. For in a world filled with such greenhouse gases, We must understand that, within 10 more years, change

Must happen. We can't just sit back & talk about it in another meeting, The climate dilemma is here & it's not backing down, So why should we? Alright, I feel this is one of my most important poems yet, because this is the cold truth based on a new study that has been given out. It has now been confirmed by the chief climate adviser to the German government, Hans Joachim Schellnhuber, that if the U.S. does not cut down the majority, if not all, of greenhouse gases by 2020, then we will not have a fair chance to fighting against climate change. This frightening new study must be taken account of & shown to every man, woman & child within the world & they MUST know that we, as the entire world, must do something about this. The U.S. has only 10 more years, as other countries have 15 to 20 more years. The world has little time left, & so we must do something NOW! As a vegan, & as a political/environmental activist, I have been doing my part of going against this for a while now, & so I want to see all of you doing the same thing.

Do You Know The Difference? Do you know the difference between peace & war? Do you know the difference between the poor & rich? Do you know the difference between the hungry & obese? Do you know the difference between equality & competition? Do you know the difference between the trailers & mansions?

Do you know the difference between working & sitting? Do you know the difference between love & power? Do you know the difference between you & I? Very self-explanatory. Just pointing out the difference between those that really want a nation of the people & those that just want to use the nation towards their own self benefit. We live in a world where richest 1% own more than the 99% combined. Do you not see the problem here?

Celts On The Streets Shinning the battle on the cemented streets, Beyond the banks that have created a scene. A war is waging between the people & more, As we clash our drums to their coming demise. Flames are blazing from the sky to the ground, In shattered bottles through dissident hate. We scream & fight for our very rights, So now you will pay, a warning by day. Flowing through our polluted world, Demanding for change that will never come. Embracing the very strengths that were used by Many, we are the Celts on the streets, Against the new American-Rome. I can say that I enjoyed writing this poem because of how I’ve always tended to compare America to Rome, as they are both falling empires. And so, this poem just added on to that comparison by comparing the people that march on the streets & protest or riot to the Celts. It was known that the Celts, when about to fight in battle, they would clash their swords with their shields, would scream & roar while horn sounds were released. This was all done while they marched to fight the Roman troops, which inevitably scared the troops because of the loud noise

given out by the Celts. This gave the Celts the advantage because they made it clear that they were strong & in large numbers, & were never going to back down.

The Unholy War Living in a world pre-world war 3 Is not the life that I want to see, Guns blazing in the air, predominantly we stare, A systematic body of post-Bush & Blair. In a international war with your hand on the bible, Praising the lord as you pass the ammunition. Bombs popping off in the name of a fable, Muhammad & Christ would go against this rendition. When the man named Jesus said the rich will suffer He didn't mean for the rich to bomb the poor, Who would've known you'd go so far to hide your Cover, Yet as your losing trillions you demand for More; If I was a Christian, if I believed in God, This governmental system would've burned to hell. The only facts behind this war is that it's a well Planned fraud, sooner or later you'll be rotting in Prison, noose in the hand, no bail. This is to represent my belief that if Muhammad or Christ were here then they would’ve rebelled against the policies being put

forth by our government in the name of “God”. Even though I’m a believer that Christ never existed, given my atheist ways, I still see the story of Christ as a story of a rebel who would never allow such injustice be put forth.

The Theory is a Lie In the land that is warming, pollution by the day, There's a greater threat than climate change, itself. A clandestine of theorists out to destroy a fact, The fact that climate change exists & isn't leaving too soon. Fueled by the very corporations that pollute our world, Convincing people with the very macabre lies they spew. 30,000 "scientists" supposedly against the belief of such warming, Yet the evidence points to a fraud greater than the war. Distorted facts & just outright lies, The very components that allow such a scheme to grow. They think that the world will never realize, Telling us to bow down to the loud sound of our dying ground. The "scientists" may say that climate change is a hoax, But it's the climatologists that say you're a joke. The only thing these people have in common is who is funding them. Big banks, big oil, & Monsanto too. Yet, as we all know, their deceit to our Mother will move on no longer. We all know the truth, you can't fool the rest of us.

I refuse to be the pawn of such a lying movement again, This is my apology letter, now let's go save the world. If you ever read my last book, you would realize that I was once a conspiracy theorist. I made such assertions like “9/11 was an inside job”, “the illuminati are running the government”, & my main theory was “climate change was a hoax”. Though, I am no longer a conspiracy theorist & now environmental activist. I’m a true believer in climate change’s existence & so this poem is to represent the movement that made me once think that climate change was a hoax. It’s a movement of deceit filled with lies & propaganda. When I finally woke up to the real truth I was highly pissed & felt betrayed. So I had written this poem to show the movement that they will no longer fool me any longer.

Timmy Timmy was a kid in New Orleans Trying to get by in his ragged jeans. What's fucked up is not his life But the one that was granted after that. Walking by the flooded streets He calls for out for his mom. All he hears is the screams abound, How could he have deserved all this? He doesn't understand why this happened, I guess he doesn't know about the U.S. Of course they fucked up, so they make it up, FEMA trailers for all of them. A week has gone by & Timmy is feeling sick, I wonder what it really is? His neighbors next door are dead on their bed, A button on their shirt saying "God Bless The U.S." Just one month later & Timmy is gone, Yet no one really seems to care. The U.S. president stands up to speak,

Says "The United States is with them". Timmy was a kid in New Orleans Trying to get by in his ragged jeans. What's fucked up is not his life But the one that was granted after that. Ever since Katrina happened I’ve been meaning to write a poem about it, but I never seemed to remember to get it done. Thankfully I ended up remembering & decided to put it in this book. What I’m going after here is the injustice that was put forth on that day. To where former President Bush failed to even warn of the coming catastrophe, & to the FEMA trailers that were filled with toxins that became within use by the survivors of Katrina, which inevitably led to their death or near death.

Proletarians of the World Unite Within this long dying world We can only partake in shame, Bombarding the very rights of ours With a man in cuffs, though not in jail. As our history dies with the present times, We then become dust within the sand. Who controls the past, controls the future, Who controls the present, controls the past. Our people are crashing within waves, As our markets flow in the same sequence. But this has all been seen before, If chance was then, then there's a chance for now. So let's take our history back, Proletarians of the world unite! This is a pro-socialist view of mine where I try & represent the workers of the world to be the only ones that’ll truly bring this world together. They are the ones that shape the world the way it’s supposed to be.

Mr. President Whatever happened to the end of war, Or even the end of torture, what happened? I stand right here in disbelief, I just can't say, "Well it's alright", The world has blood sinking in the sand. Dear Mr. President, Why aren't you taking a stand? Just turn in your nobel peace prize, And actually do what is right. I thought you were on our side, Well I guess that was all just a lie. Protect the air that we still choke, Devise the lands that we call home. The world has blood sinking in our land. Dear Mr. President, Just listen to the people's demand. So, dear Mr. President,

Are you going to be our leader, Or just a politician? The meaning behind this is really just me pointing out the things that President Obama has done, & to clarify all promises that were made by him during his campaign, that were of course broken. So it’s a question that I’m sure a lot of us are wondering when we ask Obama if he’s actually going to be this nation’s true leader or is he just going to play it safe like the rest of the politicians in Washington.

The World Is A Stage Hello world, where have you been? There's been a disaster even when I swim. The toxins in the air should never be allowed. I can't see what's in front of me, so shout. How come there's wrinkles within the surface, You're warming so fast, it's like you're in race. The natural life is dying, one-by-one. Looks like Chernobyl is having some fun. The animals are coming out of their holes, They try to find the forest, but it's just one big hole. "Maybe if we ignore it they won't realize", Said the politician with the black suited guise. Acidification is now marking its turf, Destroying more than what it is worth. The creatures in the sea have now disappeared, "As long as the system's stable there's nothing to fear." I'm not saying for you to be a hero, I don't want the population down to zero.

So sit back & watch the feature presentation, The grand production of a dying nation. This is another poem that I had written for the call of action needing to be taken against climate change. What I do on this one is point out some of the main issues that deal with the subject that is happening in our world right now. I especially wanted to point out the acidification that’s going on within our oceans & the harm that it’ll do to the life within it, given that it’s a certain problem that very few people are aware of.

Seremos como el Che In the valley that is crumbling down to its feet, I wonder if anyone knew "the next one could be me"? Aimed millimeter to your head through the shock of a shell, When you're lying in bed, or on your knees as you kneel. Raining grenades through our now-dying sky, Bullets through your door, this is a political drive by. You can stand in front all the tanks you want, Just know that this is a job for those that never daunt. "Freedom here, freedom there, freedom everywhere", That's the excuse for those in Gitmo, naked & bare. The enemy is everywhere, this is their agenda, You might as well call them Al-CIA-da. What the fuck are we still doing in the never-ending sand? I'll be damned if it's diplomacy, just an oil-marching band. Trying to find WMDs? Is that really the command? It's like trying to find the revolutionary with no hands. Trust me, if you brought the war over here, The people would fight back, the new guerrillas you will fear. Fuck you! We will never be your khakis,

You think the only enemy is a terroristic Iraqi? So again, fuck you, I won't do what you tell me, I'd rather go to jail than the sand as you sell me. So fight your wars, the people will be ready by the bay, With a message in our hearts, "Seremos como el Che"! This is another poem that I had written while listening to a rock/hip-hop song. Just a usual poem of me speaking out against corruption in our nation & in our world. But I really give it all that I got when it comes to what I’m feeling about all these problems that face us during this time & age.

Suffer the Co-2-ncequence "I know the world is dying, As the temperature is flying. I stare out from my bedroom, Trying to not let the sun in. I can see the ocean rising, With no fishes to be found. I try to just go swimming, But instead I begin drowning. I can feel the sand expanding, Growing dryer by the day. Why can't I find a cactus? The clouds are not crying. I can hear the hurricane, Growing by through each hour. Destroying all that it touched, I guess I just do not care." Now, behold the consequence

For which you will soon suffer. On this one, I tried using a scare-tactic like style to try & motivate people to at least think about the real problems that we face in this world, in the hopes that the people will start doing something about what’s going on.

De-evolution I cannot find my way through this cracking society, I wonder what I will see when I stare in a mirror. The age of the world is growing longer, dying now. The proliferations that are holding deep are vulturous. Why am I not falling at the edge of the world? Why can't I see the sky that were once in my dreams? The troubles that we face is not backing down anymore. This is not Armageddon, this is much more dangerous, For if we step backwards we might find what is going wrong. Embrace the very energy that has gone into a coma. What the fuck is wrong with this world? We're sitting back & waiting for the end. An indication that we are going back into our holes, And no, not the one with terrorist leaders, The ones where we evolved from. The meaning behind this one is just that I feel mankind is not really progressing forward anymore, but really is dumbing down as the world becomes more & more difficult. It’s the sense that maybe mankind is really just done for & that maybe we should just die out and let another species reign supreme, because it’s clear that the human race has become a highly apathetic type of species.

Who is Me? Have you ever walked around through your town And ask yourself who you really are? Take a guess, sit right back down, I know it's tough, so stand right up & look afar. I never wanted to be beautiful, I just wanted to be me. If you have problems of who I am, Then I guess we are through, now. You're backing down, & you are falling apart, Whatever happened to the good old days? When we were kids racing on shopping carts, And making sand castles on the beach by the bay. I never wanted to be beautiful, I just wanted to be me. If you have problems of who I am, Then I guess we are through, now. As the time is going by, can you see, The air is growing older, you're getting tired. Sooner or later you'll be asking who is me?

By then it's too late, your life has expired. So can you see, who is me, I just wanted to be different. I won't lie, even if I try, I just want to go back in time. I never wanted to be beautiful, I just wanted to be me. If you have problems of who I am, Then I guess your wish has come true. Although this book is mainly about environmental issues, I really feel this is one of my more important poems because it represents how people need to stop caring what others think & to just be yourself. I have problems with things like these billboards that you would see as you drive by that say “if you want to be beautiful then buy this product”, or these modeling ads that show men & women with six-pack abs, which really makes people feel bad about themselves just because they don’t look like them. Just ask yourself, do these muscular men really represent what men are? Same goes to women. People try to fit in & conform based on what society wants you to conform into, but it’s like suicide. You’re killing who you truly are, & so I find this very wrong in so many levels & wish that people would just be themselves instead of someone’s puppet.

God’s Unwanted Children Just open your eyes & see we're alive, I won't just stand by & let this world die. We are the angels to keep this world alive, Where are you now, your wings are in flames. The lights from heaven are burning us alive, Is this what it's like to be God's unwanted child? Falling apart isn't the mystery, Ashes cover the faces of our innocence. So take that one bite of the unripe, I hope it was the time of your life. Calling again, yet fearing the end, We don't want to die, so don't say goodbye. I will not bow down to the first light, If you can't trust me then I will fly, Over the edge of our dying world, Where is the end, it's not as flat as I thought. So just close your eyes & see the false light. A non-existent paradise, so let's make it right. We're falling down in the grooming ground, I can hear the screams, they need our help right now.

The lights from heaven are burning us alive, Is this what it's like to be God's unwanted child? Just know, this wasn't the first time. When I think of the “apocalypse” I think of the story of Noah’s ark. God became ill of what his creation turned into & so he decided to kill them all off, while allowing Noah & his ark filled with animals to try & rebuild life once again. Though it was Noah that convinced God to allow him to survive. So what I try to do is represent what I feel the “apocalypse” will become like, if one was to believe in biblical occurrences. And that is that we will become unwanted, once again, in God’s eyes. And really, if there really was a God out there, then we’ve already become unwanted in his eyes & is just letting this world go to complete shit.

Falling Tigers Falling tigers, where are you now? I can't see you anymore. Through the jungle, I search afar, Why can't I find you, what is the reason? Gun fire rampage through the night, The coat of death sold one mile away. Demons everywhere, in the heart we share, Another bullet in the heart of a tiger. I knew where you were one day, But then you're gone, nowhere in sight. Please roar, I need to find you, I can't go on with life without you. The self-loathing race of human beings Are the reason you are no longer here. Falling tigers, where are you now? I can't see you anymore. It was announced recently that a new study has found that, within the next 10 years or so, tigers will soon be extinct. To me, this is a sad fact of what’s going on in our world as we kill off life in name of consumption, clothing, & even sport, despite the fact

that we have more than enough resources for every human being on this planet without it having to deal with anything animal-based.

A Tick Away In the land of falling bombs, we should've known, That the past was the past, but it never died. So here we are, suffering once again, Unfortunately, we're just a time bomb tick away. So here we go again, let's hold hands, We're jumping off the cliff, spread your wings. Where is the end, I can't see that far, There goes Hitler, no wait it's the president. So where are we, I just don't understand, Falling face first into the dirt & sand. Bombing homes, the torture is diplomacy, Climate change, is there no other way? A bomb for every home, please knock the door, A hand grenade pin in every hand of the innocent. Blood red skies abound, blue eyes of white men, Is this what you call the "American Dream"? Robbing the poor, let's fund the wars, My dreams are of no countries & no borders. Rip the flag, burn it down,

This is my way of saying no to war. So can you hear us now, I hope so, This isn't the end, it's bound to happen again. "Those that make peaceful revolution impossible Will make violent revolution inevitable." Another poem against the disease, injustice, & corruption, but this one is mainly within what is going on in the wars that we are fighting. It’s become a contributor to the continuance of climate change & death to innocent lives.

A Message To God Let's pretend that I believe, One question comes to mind. Do you see what we, as humans, achieve? Is there not a chance for humankind? I know there is evil abound, But please do not worry, The light is clear from sky to ground, Our lives have purpose, please don't hurry. Why are we not good enough in your eyes? If only I could see you, I'd make a deal, "You don't want to hurt us", nature cries, Please hear what I say, on my knees I kneel. Live our life, see that there's a chance, If not, against you I will, lies my stance. Even though I don’t believe in things like God or biblical scriptures I really try asking people on this poem on what they would do if God was to lose faith in humanity & kill them off like he did during the story of Noah’s ark? Would you allow God to kill off everything & everyone that you’ve ever cared for, or would you fight back? This is a belief that I’ve always tended to divulge on, because I feel that I don’t care who the person might be, this

is my world & I’ll protect it for as long as I can. Whether it be God or anything else, people should stand up & fight for what’s around them.

Graves In The Body Farm The grappling hooks Are sticking out my back Feeling all of the remorse that you have brought upon yourself. Feeling disgusted, blood everywhere, is this the very dream that you've ever hoped for? Everywhere you see The dead with tags on their ears I'll hang you upside down, & slit your fucking throat. Time is counting down, you'll soon be hanging dead. And there I'm sleeping like baby, laying in bed. Knowing that on my wall I have your fucking head. Death factories Where is my angel Is there not any hope for me? I'm being consumed in the name of gluttony Why am I here

What have I ever done to you The screams can be heard throughout the night Their skin is fading, turning cold dead white This un-infallible race, all they know is to kill Goddamn this world, can't you see that I am real? Come & trade our place Be the consumer that is consumed I hope you fucking rot! Immoral degeneracy have vile upon our land Don't you have a heart? The sound of steel pumping as the saws are turned on We'll cut your fucking legs off & see you try to crawl Everywhere you see The dead with tags on their ears I'll hang you upside down, & slit your fucking throat. Death factories

Where is my angel Is there not any hope for me? I'm being consumed in the name of gluttony Why am I here What have I ever done to you The screams can be heard throughout the night Their skin is fading, turning cold dead white This un-infallible race, all they know is to kill Goddamn this world, can't you see that I am real? Be the consumer that is consumed I hope you fucking rot! You have all the food that you'll need When did the fuck we become part of the menu? My eyes are scarred from your vile discrepancies I'll be the one laughing when your name's on the obituary In the body farm there's graves YOU THINK YOU'RE RIGHT? I SAY YOU'RE DEAD!

Where is my angel Is there not any hope for me? I'm being consumed in the name of gluttony Everywhere you see The dead with tags on their ears I'll hang you upside down, & slit your fucking throat. Death factories! This is actually not a poem, but really a song that I began to sing to myself. It’s all by me & not from another singer, but I thought it would be best to put in here since it goes with the lessons I’m trying bring out in this book. The genre of this would be grindcore/goregrind. But the meaning behind it, if you can’t figure it out, is to point out the immoral practices of killing animals within factory farms, & I also try making it seem like an inverse world during some moments to where I let the human race try & see how it would feel if it was them going through all that pain & suffering like animals do every day in those factories.

Project-Mother Earth Dawning fast into the new decade, away From the tranquilital natural process. Reaching red alert in the formation Of self-fulfilling prophecy. Dangerous new lengths are being approached As we collide head-on towards the inanimate Coming future of our demise. Evolution is taking charge as it Devalues the value of human existence. Understanding adamantly that, for the sake Of our mother's existence, those that Control it must not move on. Darwin's spirit is turning over in his grave, Screaming into society's ear, demanding For the evolutionary process to finally Reawaken; Tears being seen from his eyes As he witnesses the death of a once Important specie to our mother. Survival of the fittest in its grandest

Scale is now in development, showing no mercy. Learning now that, for our mother to survive, We must die; An abortion needing to happen. This is how my idea of truly protecting the world thrives upon. The known fact that if we can’t stop ourselves from destroying the planet, then it’s got to be up to us to just let our species die out, in the hopes that our planet will live on to produce more life that could do a much better job in protecting it than we have. This is a message to the world that if we don’t start doing something & protect our world NOW, then initially this is what’s going to have to happen if there’s any hope for the planet, itself.

Short Stories

Just My Luck As the morning light flashes through the blinds & glide by my face, the clock that I have next to my king size bed turns to 6:00am & the over-volumed radio turns on. The sound of Murphy in the morning 107.5 pulses into my head as it askews my visualization of where the clock may be. As my hands finally grasp on the clock I pull in & throw without a thought or doubt in my mind. I get up from my bed & I walk to my mirror to see which part of my face has been disfigured by the markings of my own hand that I slept on. Just as I didn't think this morning could get anymore worse I turned around to take a step, disaster came as my foot smashes down on my already beaten clock. Normally I'd jump up & down holding my foot hoping the pain would go away but there I just stood staring down at my now broken $50 clock hoping that a

bullet would just go through my wall & hit me square in the head. But guess what...it didn't happen. I go on & take my daily shower which, if you ask me, is the best time of the day since I stay thankful that I don't have to worry about dropping the soap. I usually sing to myself while washing up but I'm not that really in the mood to amuse myself. I get dressed with whatever is around & whatever is clean. I start to get remotely happy of my day & as I open my front door to get out of the house...there I see the road frozen solid with 4 feet of snow on the ground. I stand there dumbstruck staring out to the outside part of the world that apparently I can't go out on this particular day. And as I stand there I ask myself "why is it that God allows every state global warming but when it comes to mine he decides to get lazy?" I'm now at a point to where I hope the garbage truck "accidentally" dumps all the garbage in the middle of the road so that way our town would be

so polluted that God would have to get off his lazy ass & grant me my blazing hot beautiful sun. But instead, as the garbage truck drives ever-so-slightly by, the garbage man smiles & waves at me. Right there & then I felt the urge to amuse myself. So I flipped him off and slammed the door shut. So now, not only do I not get to buy a new clock, I'm also stuck in my own house. I walk to the TV hoping there would be something good to watch but then when I turn on my TV it gives out blank stations. After thinking long & hard about it I came to the conclusion that my antenna for the TV is frozen. Clearly not surprised, I go look for a book to read. And out of the greatest luck I seem to have I end up finding one book in the whole house. After reading to the 30th page I became such a popsicle that I decided to use my one book as a fireplace heating item. Night time finally came & I for one became very pleased that the day is now over. I walk to my room

& slide into my empty king size bed. As I lay there, my eyes start fluttering. Not as if I was hitting on someone but to show myself I'm almost asleep. Before my eyes close for the final time that day I smile & tell myself "at least it can't get any worse". As soon as my eyes close I soon then re-awaken. There I realize that what I had witnessed was only a dream. I look to my side & there I see my un-broken clock. Happy as could be I climb out of bed & walk to the mirror. As soon as my eyes connected with the mirror I stood still & there I stared at the reflection of 80 years worth of wrinkles on my face. Not only that but as I turn around I lock my eyes with my bed. There laid a woman with what seemed an 80 years worth of an appetite that made my king size bed look like a kiddy bed. As the last piece of my will to live passes through the window I say the only thing I could think of..."me & my big fucking mouth".

The Heroin Diary "August 3, 2008 Today marks the first entry to my diary. My psychiatrist had asked me to start one, so here I am. Let me first start off saying that my name is Nick Johnson & I am 16 years old. The reason that I have a psychiatrist is because of anxiety attacks I seem to have when I'm nervous. So the psychiatrist consults with me every week now, despite the fact that I haven't had an anxiety attack in over a month or so. Today was my first day at my high school as a Junior, so I'm excited at what all I'll learn this year. I'm also hoping to make some new friends as well. All in all, it's been a decent day. So I'm hoping that more will come within the next year before I turn this diary in to my psychiatrist." "August 10, 2008 Hello again. It's been a week now since my last entry, & I've just got back from my weekly visit to

my psychiatrist. He seems to be proud that I've started a diary as he wished & says he can't wait to read what I've written in the following year. I'd also like to add that I've made a new friend named Jason at my school. My parents don't seem to like him that much for some reason, but my psychiatrist seems to feel that it's important to keep making friends. So I'm sure my parents will approve in the long run. Other than all that, school has gone great. I can only hope the rest of the year will be the same." "August 17, 2008 Hello. I'm back for another week & it just seems to keep getting better. A couple days ago my friend Jason asked me if I wanted to go to a party this weekend, so of course I said I'd go, haha. Who wouldn't accept that offering? Though, I wonder what kind of party it will be? He wasn't very specific on the details. I guess I'll just find out when I'm there. Either way, it's going to be great. I didn't tell my parents nor my psychiatrist though. Just in case they don't approve of it. Well, I'm off for the week. Peace!"

"August 31, 2008 Well don't I feel like a stranger now? Sorry for not posting a week ago. I completely forgot about the diary. My psychiatrist is the one that reminded me. My parents never did seem to notice though. All they cared about was what I did at the "school seminar", aka party, & kept questioning about it like I was in a interrogation room. To be perfectly honest though, there was some drinking at the party. That's all as far as I know. So if my parents knew what I really did then they'd kill my ass. But the party was definitely worth it. I can't wait to go to another one. Though, I'm going to have to figure out a new lie to my parents, because I don't think the "school seminar" is going to work again. Well, bye for now." "September 21, 2008 Hello again, three weeks later. For some reason I've not only forgot to write each week, but I've lost any obligations that I feel towards writing in it. I'm still writing though, because for my psychiatrist. I

couldn't care less what my parents think anymore. Especially when they've tried to banish me from going to anymore parties ever since they decided to read in my diary when they weren't suppose to & found out that I was going to parties. I still go to them though. I've been going to them more than usual actually, especially during school hours. Though it was only last week when I skipped school to go to a party, so I'll try not to make it a habit. It's just that school is so damn boring that I just really don't see the reasoning behind attending school anymore. Though, I'll keep moving on. I'll also try to remind myself to write next week. If not, then I'm sorry." "October 18, 2008 Wow, it's been long, hasn't it? I guess I must explain myself. First of all, I wasn't being completely honest the last time I had written in my diary. The last time I was at party before I made that entry Jason got me to try heroin at the party. At first I wasn't all for it, especially since it dealt with needles. I hate needles. But, I ended up trying it later that night, & I think I've become addicted to it. Just 3

weeks ago I ended up getting expelled from my school because I was buying some off of Jason during school hours & the school cop ended up getting a tip from someone that I had some on me, & so he searched me & found it. Though, Jason never got in trouble for some reason. Either way, I got expelled & of course my parents found out. The next day they ended up kicking me out of my own house, & so here I am, on the streets, trying to figure out what to do. I actually found a heroin dealer close by. I know I need to quit, but it's kind of hard. The only reason I'm still writing in this, let alone keeping the diary, is because of the promise I made to my, now former, psychiatrist that I would remain writing 'til a year later. But it seems to be getting even harder on doing that now. Hopefully I won't forget soon, given that I don't really know when a week goes by anymore. Until next time." "December 24, 2008 I've got to say, it's a miracle just for me to still keep this damn diary, but I must keep my promise. As you can see, it's been a little while since

my last entry. The only reason I know the date for today is because of a T.V. that was playing inside a building, being shown to whoever walks by & glances towards the front glass windows. To be honest, I can barely function. I'm surprised I can still write. You want to know what's more fucked up? I was going by a grocery store & I saw my parents walk out with groceries. I just stood there & stared at them until they finally saw me. My mother started crying as my father gave me a really evil look as he walked my mom to the car & drove off. Though, I feel like I'm dying here. I can't find any more dope dealers & I'm suffering here because of it. What am I supposed to do?" "February 26, 2009 This is going to be a short entry, but I'm just writing to let you know that I ended up finding the strength to go back home & ask for help on getting me off heroin. I've been struggling for the past month, but I've got to try & get out of this habit. I know I can do it, I just need to motivate myself. Hopefully, by the next time I write another entry,

I'll be completely off of heroin all together. Wish me luck." “June 7, 2009 Hello once again. I’m proud to say that I’m right now taking rehab. For the first couple months it was quite hard to try & adjust to it, especially when I was trying to shoot up again, but I can say now that I’m completely heroin free. I have been feeling quite ill though lately. I’m sure that it’s just because I’ve been doing heroin for a while now, so trying to adjust not having it anymore will make me feel ill. Either way, I’m finally happy now. I’ve got my family back & I got to see my psychiatrist again. I brought my diary with me & showed him that I kept writing in it, even when I was on the streets. He said he was just glad to see that I was alright, but I could tell that he was proud of me keeping the diary & kept writing in it. Well, I’ve got to go for now, but I’ll write back some time. Been quite busy lately. Bye for now.” “August 2, 2009

I can’t believe that I’m just one day away from it being a year on having this diary. I can’t believe that I actually made it this far. I just got off the phone with my psychiatrist & he seems very pleased that tomorrow I’m going to see him & he’ll finally get to read my diary. It’s not as long as it was supposed to be, but that’s fine. He’ll definitely have a time reading what I had written. But it’s quite hard to try & explain how happy I am right now. Though, I’m kind of sad that this will be my last entry in my diary. I’ve had fun, for the most part, writing in it. But the time has finally come to let my story be seen by someone besides me. But let me first say thank you to my family for helping me & that I love them, no matter what. Well, time to go. Need to sleep some so that I can wake up early tomorrow morning. Can’t wait! Goodnight & goodbye.” A tear then drops on the paper, soaking the inked words, smudging them together. There, Nick’s mother stares down at the diary as she tries to not cry. The night of Nick’s last entry he went to sleep, but never woke up. Nick had died in his sleep & was found dead

by his mother the next morning as she was trying to wake him up to go see his psychiatrist. An autopsy has now confirmed that Nick died because his body couldn’t handle any longer the transition when he stopped taking heroin. Though, Nick’s mother isn’t crying because her son is no longer with her, but merely because the last thing Nick had to say was that he loved her, no matter what.

Essays

Nerd is the new Punk by BJ Murphy In the face of the 21st century, we are becoming more politically aware of the under minded sociopolitical path of our country, & of our world. As it was in the 60's to the 70's, labels were the highest of regarding one's life & structure of living. If you were a "nerd", then that simply just meant that you made the choice to stay in school & get an education. If you were a "punk", then you simply just decided to say "fuck school", & smoke & drink while you, in the same sentence, say "fuck the system". Though, times have changed. To be a "punk" of the system, one needs to learn the system, itself. To be a "nerd" of the system, it applies the same as being a "punk". During these times, one of the most revolutionary acts one could partake in would be to get an education. Learning the

history of the world allows you to gain knowledge of why being a "punk" is a necessary action, instead of a trend, to truly say "fuck the system", while having a logical stand-point view to represent such a statement. The problem about our system is that it's run by a capitalist-built corporation of greed, hate, & power. Sure, one can say that it's not like the capitalism that we saw emerge nearly a century ago. And you're right, it's not the same capitalism as before. It's now taken shape to a crony-capitalism, cronyism. But one has got to understand that it is capitalism, itself, that makes such greed & power-mongering legal. We, the youth of the 21st century, are being led by powerwielders who, unfortunately, have an educated mind of the system, itself. So, the only way to really take a stand against such a "smart" system would be to do the same thing. Get an education. Conformity was the leading cause through the 60's &

70's that made such a difference between the "nerd" movement & the "punk" movement. Society ruled the land as it separated the world's people into labelbased zombies of the sociological-standard of Corporatism. Logos was the new fad of our youth's future. And so, it didn't matter if you were smart, as long as you were hip & cool, right? Well, as you can see, that kind of life-style is no longer the fad of society, as society itself has evolved into slave-based ruling. One could imagine themselves as one of the natives during the Columbus age, & the system being Christopher Columbus, himself. Our system is out to search for the "gold of the land", the capital of our society. Yet, as they fail to grasp their greedy hands upon such treasures, they instead use us as slaves to please their kings & queens, hoping that if they gather enough of us they will succeed in their domestic-imperialist plot of an economic take over. A legalized coup d’état, you may say.

But we, as the "punks" of society, have the upper hand now. Knowing full well that we embraced the label of being a "nerd" while remaining, in a certain perspective, the "punk" that's held deep in our hearts. We see that, no matter what the system does, we understand where they are heading, for we have history on our side. We are now the welleducated population of the 21st century & choose not to take it anymore. Don't be afraid when you see the genius of your school wearing black. Don't be afraid when you see the one that's getting straight A's in school be the one that smokes pot & say's "fuck the system". For this is the beginning of a new revolution. A statement needing to be heard. And that very statement is, "Nerd is the new Punk".

Behind A Wall Of Silence By BJ Murphy At this time I would like for you to do something for me. I would like for you to stand up off of your seat and go to the nearest window you have. Think first at what you are pissed off about or about something in this world that you are tired of. Open your window while you think. Are you thinking long and hard enough? Now SCREAM out your window the feelings that you have within you. Scream about what is pissing you off or what you don't agree of in this world. Speak your words to where the people around you hear what you are saying. Now pull your head back in the house. Close the window and sit back down in front of the computer. Just sit there for a few minutes and wait. Wait to see if anything happens because of your outburst of emotions.

Has anything happened? Have you brought change to the thing you most hate? You didn't did you? Now ask yourself why nothing happened. You screamed your heart out with the 1st amendment by your side and yet nothing happened. Not one person around you gave a damn. It's like they didn't hear you. It's like you're behind a wall of silence isn't it? Does it feel good to be left unheard? I didn't think so. The world has transformed itself through lies and illusions. Borders and walls behind every doorstep. Speak your mind and see no change. Every wall we go by there are logos, advertisements, bumper stickers, fashion tips, and credit cards. All just pushing their selves into our faces until it is over our mouths, ears and eyes. We begin to see what the system wants us to see. We begin to hear what the system wants us to hear. And because of these factors, we are left mute to the ears and eyes of humanity. We become part of the system. We become monopolized products

of big business. Now let this all sink in your head and ask yourself, is this what we really want? Is this the type of world we really need? Is security better than freedom? Is our voices really that unimportant? Are you still pissed off and ready to make change? If so then what are you going to do about it? Are you going to just sit idly and wait for change to happen itself or are you going to take action? Stomp down your door and break through that wall of silence. Bring the walls down to its footprint . Let the dust from the ruins of the once silent walls breeze by your face. Take that moment to look around. Feel the long forgotten breeze go by you and hear the once known noise of change surround you. Now scream and be heard. Pound the walls and be seen. Let us lead the world and revolt over the silence. Let us show the system that we need them no longer.

Movie Scripts

The Awakened Synopsis: Deep inside of one's dream how far can someone go? Do we only perceive the things we fear until our mind is ready to wake up? Or can we lose ourselves between what is real & what is not? Beyond the limits time can only stand still. So the question is not when you wake up...but where you wake up. Scene 1: Late at night, as the heavy storm passes by, the sound of Kiera & Michael making love echoed through the house. Between the sounds of Kiera & the clashing of lightning nothing could be heard. As they're, simply put, fucking each other, the door in the background starts to creak open. Kiera, just

barely hearing it, turns around to see what it was. She notices the door wide open. All of a sudden, she could hear her father's voice... Kiera's Father: Kiera, darling, don't you know that daddy is the only guy that really loves you? Frightened by the shock of hearing her father's voice she turns around & glances at Michael. Though, instead of it being Michael, she sees her father underneath her. She screams & jumps off the bed. As she kept stepping backwards, frantically, towards the open door a hand grasps on her shoulder. She turns around & see's her mom. Kiera's Mother: You've been a very naughty girl Kiera. You have to be punished. Remember though, mommy loves you. As Kiera's mom smiles she pulls out a knife. Her father grabs her from behind & restrains her as her

mom slits her throat. Scene 2: The morning sun rises & Kiera jumps in fright after having a terrible nightmare. She tries pulling herself together, hoping that she can have a nice day without thinking about her dream. But as she got down to her kitchen & starts making coffee she ended up thinking about it & began to cry. Tina (Kiera's Sister): Kiera... are you okay? I can hear you from upstairs. Kiera: Oh, I’m sorry. I didn't mean to worry you. I just had a really bad dream last night. I can't stop thinking about it. Tina: Do you want to talk about it? Kiera: No, I'm fine. It just... it just seemed so real. I thought mo...(stops herself)... someone actually killed me. Tina: Who was it? You almost said it.

Kiera: It was no one. Like I said, I don't want to talk about it. Tina: Kiera, you've got to trust me. Until mom & dad get back from their trip it's up to us to take care of each other. Kiera: Well, don't worry about me. I'll be fine. It was just a dream anyways. No harm comes from a dream. Tina: Yeah, well, just be careful okay? Kiera: Alright. Thanks sis. Kiera walks off & out the front door. She heads to her car & pulls out her keys. As she inserts the key into her car she felt someone's hand grasp her shoulder. She jumps & presses her back against her car door. Michael: Whoah! Babe, are you okay? It's just me. Kiera: Holy shit Michael. Don't sneak up on me like that. Michael: Look, I'm sorry. I didn't know you were so

jumpy today. Kiera: Well next time you'll know better not to sneak up on me. Michael: Hey, I said I was sorry. Ignoring Michael, she gets into her car & drives off to work. Tina: Hey, Michael. What brings you here? Michael: Well I was hoping to see Kiera before she left work. Tina: Oh really? Well you just missed her. Michael: No I didn't. I wish I did though. Tina: Why do you say that? Michael: Because she just got done bitching me out for scaring her on accident. She practically ignored me saying sorry to her. Tina: Kiera? Bitching you out? Well that's a first. Michael: Yeah, I know. Do you know what's wrong with her? Tina: I'm not too sure. She mentioned something

about a dream that she had last night. Michael: A dream? Tina: Yeah, it scared the shit out of her apparently. I found her in the kitchen crying over it. Michael: Hmm... you think I should talk to her about it? Tina: Nah. Just let her cool down a bit. She'll be just fine. Trust me. Michael: Yeah, I hope you're right. So there, both Tina & Michael, split their ways & drive off. Scene 3: As Kiera is driving by, she starts to feel like everything is becoming dizzy. She pulls over as fast as she can, while keeping it at a safe limit, & stumbles out of the car. As she leans herself on the left side of her front bumper, she begins to start thinking about her dream as if she was falling asleep

right there. One by one, it was as if it was happening in front of her, but still knows in her mind that she's only on the side of the road & about to pass out. Kiera's Mother: Kiiieeerrraaa...Don't think I don't know what you & your boyfriend do every niiigghht. You've been a very bad girl lately.... The familiar voice of her mother keeps speaking out in her head over & over again. Trying to let go of the noise. She starts to feel like she's losing oxygen as she begins to start getting warmer. She bends down, with her hands on her knees, hoping that the voice will just pass over soon. And that's when a hand grasps on her shoulder once again. Kiera: (jolts back & falls on the dirty ground) Michael: Oh my god...I'm sorry...I didn't mean to scare you again. I was actually driving to see you to make sure you were okay when I saw you leaning on your car on the side of the road. I thought something

might've happened. Kiera: It's okay. Don't worry about it. Look, I didn't mean to blow up on you back at the house. I just wasn't really having the best morning. Michael: I know, the dream right? Kiera: How'd you know? Micahel: Your sister told me. Kiera: What all did she say to you? Michael: Nothing really, just something about a dream that you had & that it seemed to have scare the hell out of you, or something like that. Kiera: Damnit, Tina. I can't believe she talked about it. I don't feel comfortable knowing that someone knows about what I'm dreaming. The dream, itself, is bad enough as it is. Michael: Hey, don't worry. There's nothing wrong with having a nightmare. Everyone tends to get them every once in a while. Kiera: Yes, but this one isn't like most dreams, it's like....you know, forget it. I really don't want to talk about it & I'm almost late for work. I'll call you

whenever I can, okay? Michael: Are you sure you're going to be alright though? Kiera, apparently ignoring again, gets into her car & drives off. Michael: (shouting) I love you...god damnit (speaking under is breathe). Scene 4: So there, as Kiera drives into the parking lot of Citi Banking Agency, she keeps thinking about what the hell is going on with her lately. She walks through the doors & then checks in. Goes into the back of the building & sits by her desk, trying to figure out which stacks of paperwork to do that is filling the top of her desk. Feeling like it's been a long day already, she throws her head, yet at a swift phase, to the desk & closes her eyes to try & clear her mind. But every

time she closes her eyes, the same thing comes back. The dream & her parents. She opens her eyes & lifts her head back up. Gives out a good self-therapeutic breathing session for a few seconds, wanting to just cool down, & gets to work. Through each paper she works on she keeps telling herself in her mind that she'll get through the day without anything bad to happen. As she is working on some of the paperwork for part of the IRA rollovers, hours begin to pass by. Not really paying attention on the time that's gone by, she glances at her watch & notices it to say 7:39 pm. Kiera: I haven't been here that long. Surely it's not that late. Shocked at the time that her watch tells her, she skims her eyes around the room in the search of a clock. With no luck to find one, she gets up from her table & walks to the main entrance area of the bank,

hoping that someone would have an accurate time reading. But, as she walks towards the entrance, she notices that the entire building is empty with the lights turned off. Confused on what's going on, she hurries back to her table to gather her things, not knowing on what's going on. But when she gets to the door to the room where she recently was in, she tries opening it but no luck comes from it. It seems that the door is either locked or stuck. The fact that neither of the choices seems likely since, one she's alone apparently, & secondly the door was working just fine when she went out to the entrance to find out what time it really was. Now scared, she runs towards the exit. But when she presses her weight with her hands on the door, it refuses to open. She screams & paces herself towards the nearest phone, hoping that she can contact the police & tell them that something is going on. But, as everything else has been, no luck came through as she finds out that the phone's dial tone isn't

working. Thinking that nothing else bad can happen, since she's trained her mind that this is the worse that it can get, odd sounds begin to waver around the building as if it's getting closer to her, but at a slow speed. Scared to death, she crawls backwards, making sure she keeps an eye around her surroundings, & pins herself to the front of a random chosen desk, thinking that she's safe as long as she stays by that table. Kiera's Father: (leaning over the table & staring at Kiera) Oh, my sweet Kiera. Daddy's got you. Nothing can hurt you now (in a gentle voice as he smirks at her). Kiera looks up slowly, frightened at what she's planning to see, & notices her father. She screams & tries picking herself up. As she barely gets up, stumbling by every step she makes, she glances back to see her father still leaning over the table, staring

at her. She looks back to the front, but somehow slams into her father's arms. Kiera's Father: (in Michael's voice) Oh, come on baby, fuck me like you do to Michael every other night. Kiera: (screaming while trying to get away) NO! Get the fuck off of me. LEAVE ME ALONE!!! Her head rises up, screaming from what she witnessed, & falls back from her chair. She looks up in a hurry, thinking that she's still being attacked by her father. But she notices that she’s back in the same room, by the same desk filled with all the papers she thought she had done already earlier. She looks at her watch and notices that it's only been 10 minutes since she got to work. She fast-steps towards the entrance hall to see if anyone was there. She peeks out the door & see's a normal crowd of employees & banking customers.

Still shaking from what she had just gone through, she gets her things & leaves work just 15 minutes after getting there, hoping to see someone that can help her figure out what's going on. Scene 5: Around 10:30 am, there's Kiera sitting patiently in the waiting room hoping to get some answers. Psychotherapist: Kiera? Kiera: I'm here! Psychotherapist: Come on in, let's get your therapy started. Kiera walks in & down some halls to enter the therapist's working room & sits down by a bed-like chair. Psychotherapist: Kiera, lay down please & get comfortable. We'll begin your session now.

Kiera lays down & tries to not close her eyes, knowing what happens when she does. Psychotherapist: Alright, Kiera. What is it that's bothering you? Kiera: I've...I've been having these odd dreams lately. But when I have them, they seem so real that it's like I'm actually living it. Psychotherapist: What are these dreams of? Kiera: .....of my parents. Psychotherapist: Are they harmed in anyway? Or are they lost? Kiera: No....I'm the one harmed... Psychotherapist: (thinking she's getting somewhere) Are your parents the one's doing the harm? Kiera: ..yes... Psychotherapist: What kind of harm? Kiera: I don't want to talk about that. I just want to know what's going on with me. Psychotherapist: To find out what is wrong with you

we'll need to, first, figure out what you're dealing with. So, do your parents harm you in any way in real life? Kiera: Oh, god no! They're great parents. Strict sometimes, but that's normal for any parent. Psychotherapist: I see. (starts writing things down on a piece of paper) Kiera: What are you writing down? Psychotherapist: Just determining whether you'll need prescriptions or not. Kiera: So you know what's wrong with me? Psychotherapist: Well, if there has been no harm done in real life, then the dreams you have are merely just simple nightmares. But, it seems that you have a sleeping disorder where you tend to fall asleep during random hours of the day. So, I'll have to give you some medicine for that & then we'll see how that goes. If anything else persists, I want you to come back here & we'll do another session. Kiera: Thank so much. Thank you for all your help. Psychotherapist: Don't mention it. I'll be contacting

you soon with your bill. Have a nice day. Kiera: You too. So there Kiera leaves with a certain feeling that everything will be okay from now on. Scene 6: Back at Michael's home, Michael enters into his home & grabs his phone book, hoping that he still has the number of Kiera's parents. Going down the long list of contacts, he gets the glimpse of the name "Mr. & Mrs. Davidson". He locks his eyes on the number as he picks up the phone & dials the number. The line begins to ring, & ring, & ring. But no answer comes & the message machine takes over. Mr. Davidson: (phone recorder) "Hi. You've reached the number of John & Dolorance Davidson. I'm sorry we couldn't answer the phone right now. If you'd leave your name & message after the beep, I'm sure

we'll be back with you. Thank you, & have a nice day." The typical phone message of every normal-like citizen. So there Michael left a message to Kiera's parents telling them on what's going on over here, hoping that her parents would contact her & actually find out what is wrong with her. Knowing that neither him or Tina could really figure out what's wrong. As soon as he gets off his home phone, he gets a text message from Kiera saying "Meet me back at the house tonight. ^_^". Happy at the message that he got from Kiera, & a little excited too, he grabs his things & leaves the house. As soon as he left the house, the phone in his house begins to ring. No one picks up, & the answering machine turns on. After the beep came, Kiera's parents responded. Kiera's father: "Hello, Michael? Are you there? Look, we've tried getting a hold of her, but it goes straight

to voice mail & she isn't responding to our messages. So I'm just letting you know, hoping that you'll pass this message to Kiera & Tina, that we're coming home. We'll be back by tomorrow. Thank you for letting us know what's going on. See you soon. Bye." Scene 7: As Michael drives to Kiera's house & gets out of his car, knowing that he's about two hours earlier 'till night, he notices that there isn't any car at the house besides his. He opens the door calling out Kiera's name, hoping that she'll answer back. He gently closes the door & walks around the bottom section of the house to see if anybody was home. Michael: Kiera...Tina...anybody here? Hellooo? Not being able to find anybody, he heads up the stairs to search the top section. Automatically, after getting up the stairs, he notices Kiera's bedroom door

wide open with the TV on. As he slowly walks towards the door, barely calling Kiera's name, he could faintly hear one of the news stations talking about a plane crash just off of the Florida coast. He slowly sneaks his head towards the opening to see if he Kiera was in her room, & right when he looks in a set of hands clamps down on his shoulders. Michael: (throwing himself in the room, almost falling on the door) Kiera: Hahaha. Now we're even you scaredy cat. Michael: Holy fucking shit, Kiera. You scared the hell out of me. Kiera: Yep! That's what you get for scaring me twice in one day. Michael: I didn't see your car on your driveway though. Kiera: That's because it's on the other side of the street from the house. I'm surprised that you didn't see it. Michael: Damn, alright. I guess I deserved that. So

is that why you asked me to come here? To scare the shit out of me? Kiera: Why? Were you...expecting something else? (smiling at him) Michael: Heh...maybe.. They both give out a viable smile at each other. As they get closer, Kiera reaches for the door & slams it shut. She slowly steps herself towards Michael as he walks himself back towards the bed. Kiera pushes Michael on the bed then gently leans herself onto him. As she caresses her hands gently on his waist, Michael grabs the end of Kiera's shirt & slowly slides it off. Their lips connect and smother, as their lusty hands begin to press harder towards each other. They can feel the bed sheets entangle on their skin as they smoothly spread to each other in an excessive rate. The sound of moaning coming from Kiera, as she converges towards Michael more & more from his fingertips by her ass, can be heard over the TV that neither of them seem to notice is still on. As much as

Kiera knows, the night will be perfect. Scene 8: Around 5 hours later, Kiera & Michael are now asleep, as their arms elapse over each other. The sound of the TV can still be heard, since they chose not to even bother with it. That is until the TV blew out all of a sudden & shattered the glass-like screen. It scared Kiera wide awake as she immediately glances towards the sound. She turns to Michael & see's him still asleep, so she chooses not to wake him up. She gets out of bed & walks towards the TV. Bends down to see what happened & notices the shatter pieces of the screen laying on the floor. She picks up the ones that she knows she can hold on to, & walks out the room to put them in the trash can down the hall. As she goes to walk back towards the room, she looks to her left at the clear window to notice the bright moon illuminating through it. She sits at the top step

& keeps staring at the moon, gazing upon its beauty that it possesses. Not noticing or hearing Michael coming by, she hears his voice as she feels his hands grasping her shoulders as he massages them. Michael: Hey, babe. Why'd you get out of bed? Kiera: (taking in the feeling of his hands massaging her shoulders) Mmm...the TV blew out for some reason. So I picked up the pieces I could & threw them away. Michael: Ahh, and now the sun is keeping you from me in the bed. I see how it is. (trying to be humorous) Kiera: (smiling) Nooo. I just enjoy looking at the moon. It's so beautiful. Michael: Yeah, it is isn't it. You know what else is beautiful? Kiera: What? Michael unlatches one of his hands from her shoulders & slowly moves it down her chest towards her panties.

He slides his hands in & gently rubs his fingers by the clitoris of her vagina. They both begin to start breathing deeply. Kiera: Michael (in a sexy voice), you're doing this now? Michael: Why not (as he smiles). She doesn't even respond & takes in the moment. Just before she begins to moan once again, Michael slips his hands away, & removes the other hand from her shoulder. Surprised that he even stopped, she turns around to see what was the matter, & see's nobody. Kiera: Michael? Where'd you go Michael? She gets up & walks towards her room & notices Michael still asleep on her bed. She walks towards him & shrugs his arms, hoping to wake him up.

Michael: (now waking up) What..what...what's the matter? Kiera: Were you by the steps with me just a second ago? Michael: What? No. I didn't even know you were awake. I've been asleep this whole time...'till now. Kiera: Stop joking Michael. Were you there with me? Michael: I said no! I was asleep the entire time. Now becoming frightened. Kiera: Oh my god...oh my god... Michael: What is it? What happened by the steps? Kiera: Oh no...I've got to get out of here. So there Kiera reaches for the nearest shirt & pants & puts them on as she walks out of the room. Michael: No, wait Kiera. Tell me what's going on.

By the time Michael reaches himself to the door, Kiera had already made it downstairs & by the door. She grabs her keys & gets in her car. Michael tries running after her before she leaves, but by the time he gets outside, she speeds off down the road. Michael: Damnit....FUCK! After he heads up stairs, gets his things & gets dressed, he heads towards his car & drives off after Kiera. Scene 9: As Kiera is speeding down the road, going around 85 down a 35 mph section, she picks up her cell phone & calls her sister Tina. Tina: Hello? Kiera: TINA! Oh my god, something happened. I can't believe what just happened....it was like...

Tina: Whoa, whoa, whoa. Calm down. Tell me from the start. What happened? Kiera: ....................(silently trying to accumulate her breath) Tina: Kiera? Are you still there? Kiera: Yeah, hmm...never mind. Forget it. Sorry to have bothered you... Tina: No, wait! By the time Tina responds, Kiera hangs up. Tina: Damnit. Kiera..what the fuck is going with you... Tina goes through her contact list & calls Michael, hoping to find out what the hell happened. Michael: Tina, I'm glad you called. Something just happened. Tina: No fucking shit! She just called me sounding completely freaked out. What the hell did you do to

her? Michael: I didn't do shit okay!? I spent the night with her, & when I was asleep she woke me up looking scared about something, asking me if I was at the stairs with her, or something like that. I told her no & that's when she twigged out & left the house in a hurry. Tina: Are you sure that's what happened? Michael: I'm positive. I'm right now trying to track her down. She speeded off when she left. What did she tell you? Tina: Nothing. Absolutely nothing, like always. She hanged up before I could find out what was going on. Michael: Damn. Well...look, I'm going to try & find her, & when I do I'll give you a call okay? Tina: Alright. Please be careful & make sure you find her. Michael: Got it. Don't worry. She'll be fine. Bye Tina: Yeah, bye. Michael then speeds up & tries searching for Kiera.

Back in Kiera's car, she keeps picking up speed, not knowing the danger she's bringing on to herself. By the time she gets to the end of the road she's on, going around 95 now, she ends up having to take a 90 degree turn to the left. It being so dark as it is, she doesn't see very well where the road is as she's skidding the tight turn. She manages to make the turn, but then notices, about a quarter of a mile up towards the road, two figures. She can't seem to get a good sight on them, so instead she blows the horn trying to warn both of them. As she gets closer, she notices that the two figures are her mother & father, both just standing there smiling. Scared on what to do, without thinking, she hits the breaks while turning her wheel. She starts to do a 180 degree spin into 360 degree turn, and from then on, completely loses control of the car. She tries getting back into control, but fails & runs off the road down a 10 foot ditch. Everything fades away as she gets knocked out cold.

Scene 10: She jumps up, with a large panicked inhalation of breath, from her bed & just stairs at her wall for a second or two. She looks around & notices that she's back in her room. Looks at the TV & also notices that it's not even broken. She glances to her side to see Michael asleep, snoring like nothing else she's ever heard of. As she starts to cry, but doesn't make a sound of it, she grabs her phone & leaves the room. She goes down the stairs & picks up a phone book to find the number of the psychotherapist she was sessioned by. When she finds it she gives her a call. No one answers, given that it's late at night now & the facility is probably closed, & the answer machine turns on. Before she was about to hang up, she hears the message say the private number of the psychotherapist. So she hangs up & gives that number

a call. Psychotherapist: (waking up) hmm...hello...? Kiera: (crying) Hello, it's me Kiera. We talked yesterday morning about me having these terrible dreams.. Psychotherapist: Oh, yes. Yes, I remember. How can I help you? Kiera: Look, I'm sorry if I woke you up. You don't have to... Psychotherapist: Don't worry about it. I'm glad you called. Now tell me, what's the matter? Kiera: Well...I had another dream. But this one was much worse, & it felt so real. Psychotherapist: Was your parents in this one also? Kiera: Yes, but only at the end. Psychotherapist: What were they doing? Kiera: They were in the middle of a road, smiling at me, when I was speeding down it. Psychotherapist: Why? Why would they do that? Kiera: I don't know! During the dreams they're not

themselves. They both seem like they want to kill me, or punish me to best describe it. Psychotherapist: Why would they want to punish you in your dreams? Kiera: They keep calling me a bad girl because of my relationship with my boyfriend, Michael. Psychotherapist: I see...Alright, just calm down & take a deep breath. Remember, it's just a nightmare. Did you take that medication I gave you? Kiera: Yes, but it happened when I was asleep with Michael at my house. It practically happens every time I shut my eyes. I'm so afraid now to even close my eyes for a few seconds. Psychotherapist: Now we don't need you staying up all the time. That can really hurt you. Kiera: I know, but I don't know what to do. That's why I called you. Psychotherapist: Alright...well...drive to my work & I'll meet you there. I'll do a free session for you so you can clear your head. Hopefully, this time, we can finally clear all those things out of you for good.

Kiera: Thank you. I'll be there in a few minutes. They hang up & Kiera goes upstairs, quietly, to get her things. She doesn't even warn Michael on where she's going. She gets to her car & drives off, not realizing that she left her cell phone by the phone book back at the house. Scene 11: Going all the way back to the facility was one of the hardest things she ever did. Each second she feared for closing her eyes. Each time straining them trying to make sure she barely blinked, while still keeping out for anything on the road. Each time a car came, them being selfish enough to keep their high-beams on, she would honk her horn at them, making sure they brought them down to low before the lights were to make her close her eyes. She didn't take any chances. Scared out of her mind completely, & literally. People within the psych ward fail to go

through something like this. But, through the entire trip, she kept herself awake & alive. As she pulled into the drive way, she noticed her therapist's car already there. Never had she been so happy that night 'till then. She walks in & goes through the door, towards the room she was in earlier yesterday morning. She gives it a slight knock, worrying that something might happen. Psychotherapist: Come in Kiera. I'm here. Kiera: (entering the room) Thank you for doing this for me. Psychotherapist: Don't mention it. I'm only doing this because you seem to be in a lot of pain emotionally right now. So let's get started, shall we? Lay down as you were yesterday, but this time I want you to close your eyes. Kiera: NO! I can't. They might come back...

Psychotherapist: Don't worry. They won't come back. You've got to trust me. Now close your eyes. Kiera slowly closes her eyes, showing her fear by each twitch she made as her eye lids get closer together. Psychotherapist: Alright. That's good. Now, breathe deeply & then exhale. Do this continuously. In......out......in.......out.....Now, I want you to open your eyes slowly. Kiera, very slowly, opens her eyes with a dim-like visualization of the ceiling. While still squinting, she looks 30 degrees to her left & see's the outline & structure of her therapist.

Kiera: Is that you that I see? (hesitantly asked) Psychotherapist: Yes, it's me. Don't worry. Just keep opening your eyes slowly.

Kiera resumes to open her eyes, & just before she opens them wide open, the figure she kept glancing at bends it's head towards her & says: Kiera's Mother: You've been a very naughty girl tonight, my dear. (giving out a demonic, deep, laughter) Kiera, scared for her life, opens her eyes, grabs her therapist's pen & stabs her right in the side of the head. Now noticing that it wasn't her mother that was there, but her therapist. Kiera's dreams tricked her into killing her. So there was Kiera, screaming & crying by a corner. Staring right at her, now-dead, therapist. Completely confused on what had just happened, knowing that she now is a murderer, she runs out of the office, out the building & into her car. She, once again, speeds off. Scene 12:

Back at the house, Michael turns to wrap his arm around where Kiera would've been laying down at. Noticing she's not there, he opens his eyes to see if he could see her. Wondering where she is, he gets out of his bed, walks out of the room & calls out her name. He doesn't notice her in the halls, so he leans his head over the top railing to see if she's downstairs. He sees nothing except her cell phone by the phonebook. He walks down to grab it when he notices a name circled on a phonebook. He looks at the address given to the facility, & grabs his things to drive to that area.

He picks up his phone & calls Tina to warn her.

Tina: Hello? Michael: Tina, I think we might have a problem. Tina: About what?

Michael: It's Kiera. She wasn't at her house & I found her cell phone left there beside a phonebook with a psych-therapeutic facility circled on it. I think she might've gone there tonight. Tina: For what? Michael: Her dreams. I think something is going on about her dreams. It's scaring the hell out of her. It's like she's not herself anymore. Tina: Damnit...So what are we going to do? Michael: I'm heading towards the psych facility right now to see if she's there. I'll let you know when I find her. Tina: Alright, I'll head back to the house just in case she decides to come back home.

They hang up & go their separate ways. Michael to the psych facility, & Tina back home. Right when Michael reaches the facility, he gets out of his car &

runs in. Once he enters the halls, he slowly paces himself around, whispering Kiera's name.

As he walks down the hall, notices a pen laying down on the floor beside a, almost closed, door. He bends down slowly & picks up the pen. He could feel the stickiness from the some-what dried up blood on the pen. Giving out a disgusted look at the pen, he barely pushes in the door & glances in to notice the therapist laying cold-dead on the floor. He yells as he drops then pen, & then falls back on a wall on the other side of the hallway. Trying not to stare at the body, he gets himself up & runs back to this car. Scene 13: Michael searches recklessly for his phone & calls Tina as fast as he could. Tina: Michael! Did you find her?

Michael: No, but I found a woman dead on the floor. Tina: WHAT? Dead? Who? Michael: I think she worked there. I think she was the one that Kiera was going to see. Tina: Oh my god....you don't think that Kiera... Michael: I don't know Tina. Has she not returned home yet? Tina: No. I haven't seen her since yesterday, Michael. Michael: Alright, well just wait for her there. If she doesn't show up by the time I get there, then we'll call the cops. Tina: Why not call the cops now? There's a fucking woman dead in the psych facility. Michael: Because we don't know if Kiera killed her or not yet. We need to find out what happened first. Alright? Tina: Fine! But if anything goes wrong then I'm calling the police right away. Michael: Alright, deal. Just wait for her 'till I get there.

Tine: Okay, bye. Michael then speeds off back to the house, hoping that Kiera will be there by the time he gets there. Back with Kiera, she's driving down the road trying to battle off the noises & voices in her head. Kiera's Father: Oh, darling, you know daddy loves you. Kiera: SHUT THE FUCK UP! Kiera's Mother: You've been a baaaaddd girrrlll, Kiera. Kiera: Ahhhhh....Get out of my head!!! I'm awake damnit! Why are you here? I'm AWAKE! GET OUT! Kiera's Father & Mother: You've never been asleep my darling. You're stuck with us forever. Kiera: LIARS!!! I'M AWAKE & YOU'RE NOT REAL! Kiera speeds up to her house, trying to still battle

the voices of her parents in her head. She's positive that she never had fallen asleep & believes that it's just in her head. She pulls up to her driveway & hits the brakes. The sound of the screeching coming from the brakes on the pavement alerts Tina that someone is at the driveway. She runs to the window to see Kiera running to the door. Right when Tina get's to the door to open, the door slams open from Kiera forcing it in, & slams Tina nearly across the room. Tina looks at Kiera, trying to get up, & notices that her eyes are closed, but is reacting as if she was awake. She now realizes that Kiera is sleepwalking. Tina: (grabbing a hold of Kiera) Kiera! Wake the fuck up! It's only a dream. Don't let it control you! Kiera: (still thinking she's awake) I'm not asleep...I'm awake damnit. I can see you. As Kiera's mind begins to take more control, she begins to see her mother's face instead of Tina's.

Kiera: Oh my god....get away from meeee!!!! Tina: What the fuck are you talking about? It's me Kiera...Tina! Your sister! Kiera: No you're not! LIAR! Kiera pushes Tina to the kitchen floor & jumps on top of her, slashing at her face. Tina tries restraining Kiera without harming her, but soon realizes that she's not going to live if she doesn't do something. So she looks beside her & barely see's a frying pan that was probably knocked off the table when she fell on the floor also. Tina grabs the pan & slams it across Kiera's head. Kiera is then knocked out completely, & Tina get's back up, trying to catch her breath. She grabs her phone & calls Michael. Michael: Tina! Is Kiera there? Tina: Yeah, but she was sleepwalking. She kept thinking she was awake & then attacked me. I had no other choice but to knock her out.

Michael: Oh my god. Alright. Don't leave. I'm almost there. Tina: Alright, but hurry. Please! Scene 14: Michael, his mind already agonizingly rattled with fear, skids into the driveway & runs in the house. The first thing he notices is Tina sitting down, with her hands over her face as if she was crying. Tina looks up & see's Michael. She runs up & hugs him. Michael: Tina, where's Kiera? Tina: She's on the kitchen floor. I didn't want to move her or even get near her after what she just did. Michael: Hmmm...alright. We'll just keep an eye on her. I can't believe I'm saying this, but call the police. Inform them about the dead woman, but don't tell them it was Kiera. Just tell them what we know & hang up.

Tina: Alright. A few hours passes by & Kiera finally shows some movement. Kiera struggles herself up to see Michael & Tina looking down at her with a sign of fear in their faces. She grabs her head, now feeling the pulsing pain coming from the left side of her forehead. Kiera: Ahh...what the hell happened? Tina: You fucking attacked me god dam... Michael: Tina! Calm down. I'm sure she didn't mean to. She was asleep remember? Tina now trying to calm herself down. Kiera: Attacked you? When? Michael: A few hours ago. You were sleepwalking & thought you were still awake. Kiera: Oh my god. I'm so sorry Tina. I didn't mean to... Tina: I know. It's okay. I still love you. (trying to

give out a smile) Michael: But...do you remember going to the psych facility? Kiera: That's the last thing I can remember. I remember laying down & closing my eyes like my therapist told me to do. And then the next thing I know, I'm waking up here on the kitchen floor with an annoying pain in my head. Michael: Hmm... Kiera: What? What happened? Michael: Kiera...your therapist is.... A loud knock then rattles the door. Scaring all three of them, Michael calls out asking who it is. Kiera & Tina's Parents: Michael! It's us. Let us in. Michael: Mr. & Mrs. Davidson? What are you doing here? Kiera & Tina's Parents: Didn't you get our message? We said we'd be here by today. We would've been later, but we decided to take an earlier flight since

our other one was cancelled based on a plane crash just off the Florida coast. Kiera: No.....no.....it's not them....IT'S NOT MY PARENTS! Tina: What? What are you talking about. It's them Kiera. Kiera: No it's not! They're here to kill me... Michael: Don't worry Kiera. They're not here to kill you. They're here to help you. Michael reaches for the door knob & opens it. Kiera: (reaches for a knife by the kitchen counter & slashes at Michael) NO! Michael dodges Kiera's knife, but Kiera then, instead of getting Michael, slashes her father's throat & then stabs her mother in the chest. Kiera: NO! I WON'T LET YOU KILL ME! I'M AWAKE DAMNIT! (as she starts to gain memory

back of the time period between killing her therapist & to getting knocked out by Tina) Michael then jumps & latches on to Kiera, pulling away from her, already dead mother, & bleeding to death father. Kiera then kicks Michael away & tries to run away. But then Tina tries grabbing a hold of Kiera. Tina: Kiera! STOP! LET GO OF THE FUCKING KNIFE! Tina tries keeping a grasp on Kiera, but then Kiera turns, which then leads the knife to her Tina's stomach. Tina gives out a painful & yet surprised look on her face as she looks down at her stomach. She grabs her wound & falls to the floor. Michael then jolts to Tina to pick her up. Michael: Oh my god, Tina! Stay with me Tina. You're going to be okay.

Tina: (barely being able to speak) Take.....care......of....Kiera..... Tina then dies on Michael's arms & completely elapses over the floor between the entrance & the kitchen. Michael then, already filled with anger over Tina's death, stares at Kiera & starts yelling at her. Michael: YOU SEE WHAT YOU'VE DONE? YOU'VE KILLED EVERY PERSON THAT'S EVER LOVED YOU! YOUR FATHER, MOTHER, & NOW YOUR SISTER! Kiera: (giving out a smirk) I won't let you trick me. You're not Michael. None of you are who I think you are. You all are trying to kill me...I know you are... Michael: What the fuck are you talking about? No one was trying to kill you Kiera...You killed them! Kiera: No...no.....no......LIAR! Michael reaches for Kiera's knife, but she slashes at his hand & slits his hand wide open. Grabbing his hand

in pain, he gives another try to restrain Kiera. He grabs a hold of her & restrains her hands. As they begin to grapple on one another, Michael's foot then stumbles over Tina's body & both Michael & Kiera fall over. As Michael lands hard on the floor, the knife that was latched on both Kiera's & Michael's hands stabs her in the stomach. Michael, realizing what happened, screams out Kiera's name & begins to cry in anger. Trying to get a hold of himself, he grabs Kiera's lifeless body & pushes her to the side as he pulls himself up. By then, he could hear a bunch of screeches & sirens coming from the drive way. Limping, he heads towards the door to see what was going on & notices the police arriving. A police officer then runs up to the door with a gun pointing at Michael. Police Officer: Freeze! Don't move! The police officer then glances in the house to see

four dead bodies laying on the floor. Police Officer: Oh my god...(now yelling at his team) WE'VE GOT FOUR DEAD ONES HERE! (now facing Michael) Sir, you're under arrest for the murder of a Ms. Thompson, around 1:00 am at the Psych Facility. Michael then realizing that he had picked up the pen at the facility that killed the therapist, which left his finger prints on the knife. Police Officer: And also for the murder of four other individuals. Three females & one male. Do you understand what I'm saying. Michael doesn't even say anything & just glances at nothing, but a thought to himself. As the police officer reads him his rights, he throws Michael in the car & drives him to the police station.

Final Scene: Back at the police station, Michael lays there in a cell feeling hopeless. Feeling like he's about to lose himself, he gets himself up & heads to the cell bars. Michael: (screaming out, hoping someone can hear him) HEY! I WANT MY LAWYER! CAN ANYONE HEAR ME? I'M INNOCENT GOD DAMNIT! I DIDN'T KILL ANYONE! LET ME GO!......I'M INNOOCCCENNNNTTTT!!!!!!! Losing hope all together, he slides down the rails & puts his hands over his eyes as he begins to cry. He tries pulling himself together. He closes his eyes, & tries to catch his breath. But then, all of a sudden.......... Kiera: (like a whisper to his ear) Hello Michael... Michael: (turns to see Kiera) AHHHHHHHHHHHHH.............

The End

Helpful Info

Historical Facts Not Found In School Text Books •

Before the U.S. government made the decision to bomb Hiroshima & Nagasaki, they were already aware that the Japanese were considering surrender beforehand.

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During the Reagan Administration, President Reagan had made an anti-marijuana campaign, using exploitations against the homosexual movement, by claiming that smoking marijuana would make you turn homosexual, yourself.

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Despite what you were told about the Columbus voyage & his journey within the new found land, America, the truth of the matter is that Christopher Columbus, while in America (thinking he's in India), he sets himself out to

find gold. But, when he became unsuccessful, he instead enslaved many Native Americans. This became a normal occurrence during the building of America, where Columbus would enslave thousands upon thousands of Native Americans, & when they became unuseful to his eyes he killed them off. The Columbus voyage is a story of slavery & genocide.

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Although George Washington is perceived as our very first president, nothing could be further from the truth. The very first president of the United States was Peyton Randolph, who was elected as "President of the first continental congress" in 1774. After him, there were 16 more presidents that would be elected before Washington. To make things a bit less confusing, Washington is really just the 1st president that was elected under the

American constitution. Every president before then only remained president for a year. •

Woodrow Wilson, unlike what you've thought of him personally, was in fact a white supremacist who personally vetoed a clause on racial equality in the Covenant of the League of Nations.

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Helen Keller, the blind & deaf girl that everyone seems to look down upon as a girl who struggled her entire life, really became a well known Socialist of her time during her later years. Through her years as a member of the Socialist movement, she moved to the left of the Socialist party & became a Wobbly, which was a syndicalist union that became persecuted by none other than Woodrow Wilson.

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The United States dropped three times as many tons of explosives in Vietnam as it dropped in all bombings during World War 2, & that's including Hiroshima & Nagasaki.

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Despite what you've been told about the reasons behind the battle of Alamo, the people that were fighting at the Alamo were fighting for the freedom to own slaves. It just shows you how historically ignorant most of America have become as we celebrate every year for the "heroes" of the Alamo.

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Mount Rushmore was designed by a man named Gutzon Borglum, who was known as a white supremacist & possible member of the KKK, due to the fact that immediately prior to him sculpting Mount Rushmore, he started on a different project called the Confederate Memorial Carving on Stone Mountain, Georgia. Although it was never finished, it was funded

by Georgia's KKK foundation. •

In 1868, the U.S. government signed a treaty with various American Indian peoples guaranteeing Indian ownership of the Black Hills forever. Just nine years later the government took back the land after gaining knowledge of gold being discovered in the Black Hills. The U.S. Supreme Court ruled in 1980 that the Black Hills had been illegally seized and ordered the federal government to pay $105 million to the American Indians still residing in the region. The money was refused.

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Since you were a little child, probably just started school in kindergarten, you have been told that Betsy Ross was the designer of the first American flag. The problem is that this is a total myth that has never been proven with any evidence. The fact of the matter remains that we still do not know who the real designer

of the first American flag was, & we also don't know what the colors truly represent. The reasons that are used to describe the colors are just as much of a false myth as is the "Betsy Ross was the designer of the first American flag" myth. Question Everything...Deny Nothing

Why Do We Need a Socialist Party? Capitalism is a system where the wealthiest 20% of the population have very empowering jobs; they get to decide what's produced, by what means, and how it gets distributed. The bottom 80% of the population does mostly boring, repetitive labor, for insufficient incomes, while obeying orders handed down from above. Capitalism destroys solidarity by pitting each person against all others. Variety is homogenized and equity is non-existent in capitalism, it imposes class division by creating a hierarchical society. Capitalism concentrates power and opportunity among the most fortunate and spreads the burden across the rest of society, with a strong concentration of suffering to those in the bottom 20%. Capitalism ignores the socials costs of products and production methods to attain the highest possible profit margin. It damages the ecological balance and cares not about

sustainability. It promotes wars, it exploits labor and the list goes on… So again, why do we need a Socialist Party? Because Democratic Socialists seek to do away with market capitalism. In place of markets we envision a system of workers and consumers cooperatively negotiating inputs and outputs through democratic, self managing councils. The full social costs and benefits will be considered before production. We want a true democracy, not just in the form of elected officials, but in all aspects of life including the economy. Electing one socialist candidate will not bring an end to capitalism. Even voting 50 may not be enough. However, each time a citizen hears the perspectives of a socialist and agrees, overcoming their childhood brainwashing, we become that much closer to creating a more just society. Another world is possible, and if we are not talking about it, educating and agitating it may continue to lay

dormant. Almost every country in the world has an active Socialist Party with socialists elected to parliamentary positions and even holding executive seats. The Socialist Party in the US has also remained very active since its inception in 1901, but it has been pushed to the fringes since those early years. The American Corporate Propaganda Machine-- has done a marvelous job of falsely educating the population about the "S" word, likening democratic socialism to the undemocratic two-class systems of the former Soviet Union, China and others. The Washington Consensus® then went even further to pronounce that the fall of the USSR in 1989 proved that socialism could not work and that capitalism was here to stay as the final form of human society. They forgot to mention that the USSR was a centrally planned authoritarian state communist system, vastly different from democratic socialism…. In fact the Soviet system was just as far from democratic socialism

as the current capitalist system is. Two distinct classes, top down planning, no democratic control over the economy. Why we need a socialist party is just as evident as why someone on a sinking boat needs a life jacket. The Socialist Party is like the life preserver, it will keep you from drowning, you will still have to avoid the bloodthirsty sharks, but with a little luck and a lot of swimming you just might make it ashore onto a tropical island paradise. Doesn't sound totally promising I know, but still better than trying to swim as far as you can without the life preserver. The Republican Party would cruise by on their 80ft. yacht and rap you on the head when you try to grab on to stay afloat. The Democrats would pass by next with their 48ft. day cruiser promising to send life rafts back just as soon as they can afford an 80ft yacht to make the return voyage… Hours would pass…and they would fly an airplane over with messages of encouragement, but the life rafts would

never come back. Your stuck swimming as far as you can… That's when you wish you had opted for that life preserver! The Socialist Party is truly a working class party. Whether blue or white collar, a member of the shrinking middle class or growing ranks of impoverished, the vast majority of Americans are working class. They are employed by someone else's company and work at that person or corporation's pleasure for whatever wage or salary their bargaining power can ensure them. The Republicans are the party of the CEO and the Democrats are the Party of the Upper Management. They both put profit before people and are readily bought out by corporate interests. The Socialist Party is the party of the workers and serves only their interests. The platform and candidates of the Socialist Party wish to implement a Universal Single payer health care

system. Ensure complete funding of social security benefits. Guarantee living wages, not minimum wage. Immediately end the for-profit wars in Iraq and Afghanistan and likely soon Iran. Impeach and Prosecute the war criminals in the current administration. Reprioritize tax dollar allocation, shift the trillion now spent on militarism to human needs, create jobs in healthcare, infrastructure repair and transportation construction to replace jobs lost in weapons manufacturing and military service. We also believe in publicly funded election campaigns, eliminating all private and corporate donations and excluding personal wealth. Only an election starting on a fair playing field can be considered a fair election. Reinstatement of Equal Access to media outlets by all candidates whether major or minor party or independent would create a better informed public and a more true democratic representation of their interests.

All of these things are just some of the issues effecting Americans today. For the complete platform please visit www.sp-usa.org and I encourage everyone to take a look through it, you might be surprised. So, in conclusion, we need a Socialist Party because we are all workers and it's high time we realize that the Democrats are clearly not our party. Our needs and demands continue to go unanswered election after election. Whether the next guy or gal has a D or R after their name the real impact on your personal life conditions will likely be nil. (The capitalist agenda of privatization and profit seeking at the public's expense will continue). Please research all candidates fully and vote for what you believe in, not who you believe has a chance of winning. Eugene Debs was able to receive 1 million votes from prison because the people were not afraid to vote for the "candidate with conviction" and whose views matched their own despite his long shot chance of winning. If more people actually researched all of the candidates, not just the

2 or 3 biggest corporate money grabbers highlighted on the corporate news, they would probably be surprised to find that there are some out there who actually represent their views. It's up to us to exercise our democratic power and vote with our hearts!

The Pocahontas Myth In 1995, Roy Disney decided to release an animated movie about a Powhatan woman known as "Pocahontas". In answer to a complaint by the Powhatan Nation, he claims the film is "responsible, accurate, and respectful." We of the Powhatan Nation disagree. The film distorts history beyond recognition. Our offers to assist Disney with cultural and historical accuracy were rejected. Our efforts urging him to reconsider his misguided mission were spurred. "Pocahontas" was a nickname, meaning "the naughty one" or "spoiled child". Her real name was Matoaka. The legend is that she saved a heroic John Smith from being clubbed to death by her father in 1607 she would have been about 10 or 11 at the time. The truth is that Smith's fellow colonists described him as an abrasive, ambitious, self-promoting mercenary soldier. Of all of Powhatan's children, only "Pocahontas" is

known, primarily because she became the hero of Euro-Americans as the "good Indian", one who saved the life of a white man. Not only is the "good Indian/bad Indian theme" inevitably given new life by Disney, but the history, as recorded by the English themselves, is badly falsified in the name of "entertainment". The truth of the matter is that the first time John Smith told the story about this rescue was 17 years after it happened, and it was but one of three reported by the pretentious Smith that he was saved from death by a prominent woman. Yet in an account Smith wrote after his winter stay with Powhatan's people, he never mentioned such an incident. In fact, the starving adventurer reported he had been kept comfortable and treated in a friendly fashion as an honored guest of Powhatan and Powhatan's brothers. Most scholars think the "Pocahontas incident" would have been highly unlikely, especially since it was part of a longer account used as justification to wage war on Powhatan's Nation. Euro-Americans must ask themselves why it has been

so important to elevate Smith's fibbing to status as a national myth worthy of being recycled again by Disney. Disney even improves upon it by changing Pocahontas from a little girl into a young woman. The true Pocahontas story has a sad ending. In 1612, at the age of 17, Pocahontas was treacherously taken prisoner by the English while she was on a social visit, and was held hostage at Jamestown for over a year. During her captivity, a 28-year-old widower named John Rolfe took a "special interest" in the attractive young prisoner. As a condition of her release, she agreed to marry Rolfe, who the world can thank for commercializing tobacco. Thus, in April 1614, Matoaka, also known as "Pocahontas", daughter of Chief Powhatan, became "Rebecca Rolfe". Shortly after, they had a son, whom they named Thomas Rolfe. The descendants of Pocahontas and John Rolfe were known as the "Red Rolfes." Two years later on the spring of 1616, Rolfe took her to England where the Virginia Company of London used her in their propaganda campaign to support the

colony. She was wined and dined and taken to theaters. It was recorded that on one occasion when she encountered John Smith (who was also in London at the time), she was so furious with him that she turned her back to him, hid her face, and went off by herself for several hours. Later, in a second encounter, she called him a liar and showed him the door. Rolfe, his young wife, and their son set off for Virginia in March of 1617, but "Rebecca" had to be taken off the ship at Gravesend. She died there on March 21, 1617, at the age of 21. She was buried at Gravesend, but the grave was destroyed in a reconstruction of the church. It was only after her death and her fame in London society that Smith found it convenient to invent the yarn that she had rescued him. History tells the rest. Chief Powhatan died the following spring of 1618. The people of Smith and Rolfe turned upon the people who had shared their resources with them and had shown them friendship. During Pocahontas' generation, Powhatan's people

were decimated and dispersed and their lands were taken over. A clear pattern had been set which would soon spread across the American continent. Chief Roy Crazy Horse It is unfortunate that this sad story, which EuroAmericans should find embarrassing, Disney makes "entertainment" and perpetuates a dishonest and selfserving myth at the expense of the Powhatan Nation. ……. Thank you Chief Roy for keeping true history alive by telling the real story of Pocahontas. –BJ Murphy

My Eco-Friendly Publication I’d like to first off thank all of my friends & family that has believed in me as I kept writing more books. Now, the reason for naming this book “Project-Mother Earth” was because I wanted to represent a belief of mine that I hold deep in my heart, which is environmentalism. It is my dream, along with many others, that climate change will be dealt with & the planet’s pollution will soon go away & never come back. But the fact of the matter is that we are on the verge of going completely backwards from that dream. So, I feel obligated to at least give my part into helping this planet by recycling, not using as much paper as possible, being a vegan, etc. But I came to a stump when I began writing up for this book to help represent my beliefs. And that was the fact that I was going to have around over 200 pages of my writings, which means 200 pieces of paper. And so it seemed hypocritical to speak out against pollution & the destruction of the environment, yet use over 200 pieces of paper. So I did some research to see what I could do to make my next publication as eco-friendly as possible. Thankfully, Createspace, my publisher, gave me all that I needed to continue my publication without the guilt behind it of getting it published. So I’d like to announce that this book was published ecofriendly. I’m sure you’re wanting details, so here it is. First of all, my publication is split between Createspace & Amazon.com, & so it’s sold through a “print on demand” system, which means that my book will remain sold online & will not start printing it on paper until it is actually bought by someone. So this will greatly reduce the amount

of paper being used to keep my book being sold. Another element within my book that was used to make sure it remained eco-friendly was that I used a type of paper called “Cream Paper”, which is made from 30% pcw (post consumer waste) recycled material. This will make sure that even more less paper is to be used when printing by using recycled paper & waste. Digital ink is eco-friendly as well, so I won’t have to worry what exactly I’m using when getting my books published. So I’d like to thank Createspace & Amazon.com for helping me out on making sure that my next publication became as eco-friendly as possible, & I hope that soon you will be able to produce 100% recyclable paper. Thank you all for making this possible.