Needle Eyes

Henry walked over to the wall and pressed his hand against the cool smooth surface. Tracing lines with his fingers he drew the picture in his mind, the one of the thousands of people with needles for eyes. They were always screaming to him, or for him, he could never tell which. Screaming, screaming. He could never hear them clearly enough, always something muffling them, covering them. One thing was for sure though, they were in need. Their cries were those of the desperate sort. Henry took a step back from the wall to admire his work. He saw with his eye, a non needled eye, his beautiful work of art. He wanted to call the others over and proudly display his accomplishment, but he knew what they would say. They never saw anything, nothing. At least that’s what they always said. Taunt him and call him names is all they would do. No matter, they’d probably all end up like the needle eyed people anyway, always wanting, never getting, never getting. He’d seen it happen before. To his family. They used to call him names and tell him he was dumb. But now they were there with the others in his mind, and now, on the wall. He could just make out his mother’s face, mouth open, joining in the cries. His father was next to her, holding up his little sister, both with their needle eyes pointing up to the sky, mouths agape, waiting, always waiting, waiting. What for? Don’t know. Always waiting. Henry was waiting now to. Waiting for his time outside. Soon they would come, open his door and let him into the grassy area. Only for a few minutes though. It would sunny and bright, bright. Then he would be back inside, and perhaps he would draw another picture from his mind.

hummm....i smell cookies. i like the smell of cookies. it reminds me of my childhood in the swamps of Kentucky. Me and my sister Jojo would go out every night and try to catch fireflies. Whatever we caught we would bring home and mom would make cookies out of them. yumm......

sigh....good times......

me love you long time!!

no. only till mid march, thank you.

gettin tired of you bringing me down.

I am a clown.

When you get down, and you feel like no one cares about you, just remember, you are right. no one cares about you. why you ask? well its beacause youre a terrible person. When you were born the devil laughed with delight, for he knew you would spread sadness and destruction wherever you went. I saw you, last year, when you tripped that nice lady on the sidewalk. she was carrying a bag full of eggs and milk. while pushing a stroller.(wont someone please think of the children?) A few months ago i read in the newspaper how you tricked that old man into giving you all his savings. he was going to give it to his daughter, so she could pay for the life saving surgery for her son. you bastard. Then , just last week you spilled fruit punch on my Aunt's nice new white dress at her own birthday party. Then, a few days later, you borrowed my stereo and proceeded to throw it off your third story balcony. (you say you were drunk and on drugs, but im sorry thats just not a good enough excuse). Those things you did to other people were bad, but to mess with my family and my stuff, well!

so while you sit there feeling terrible about youreslf, remember, you deserve it, and alot more. Damn you. Damn you to hell.

yo ho ho and a bottle of rum.

my car broke down. DAMNED INFERNAL THING! my it rot in hell. hell hell rot rot rot hell rot rohell. the end

okok, so i know that i havent updated my blog for a while but i have a valid excuse. Im lazy. REALLY REALLY lazy. its quite disgusting really. but its me, so oh well. Right now im back home in southern california. and its really hot, like its summer or something. its not natural. but then again, not many things in southern californa are, so..............

vive la bibliotech!