GENERATION LOST- fully revised part one (Comments appreciated)

napalmhamster — Mon, 26 Jun 2006 11:01:02 +0400

Chapter 1
Struggles
STANLEY MURPHY, OR “Murf

The Politics of Homosexuality

napalmhamster — Thu, 22 Jun 2006 05:10:34 +0400

It really pisses me me off that Homosexuality is such a big issue in government. Why can't they understand that we are people too? Carbon-baseed life forms with 2 arms, 2 legs, and 2 eyes! Human!! Period, end of story, get a life, do not pass GO, do not collect 200 dollars!!!

Thank you, and have a pleasant evening.

--this is just one of many essays I am writing for one of my books, "The Fallacy of Civilized Life". I have recieved offers from many companies to publish it upon completion. More of my writings will be posted soon.

The Sound of Our Demise (I added more)

napalmhamster — Sun, 08 Jan 2006 03:20:22 +0300

The Sound of Our Demise

Send the soldiers on a march to die
To the plains where the missiles fly
Cock your weapons and let loose your cry
Armies will clash kill to the very last
Innocent citizens will fall before the surge
Above the turmoil,
I hear a soldier’s cry
“Why do we fight? Why do we have to die?

How's life on you're side of the Planet?

napalmhamster — Tue, 03 Jan 2006 04:16:27 +0300

* George Bush just choked on another pretzel\n* Peachy\n* A little sour, but mostly sweet\n* Moderate\n* Crappy\n* A sinkhole just opened up beneath my house and people keep threatening to eat my chiuaua\n* \n* \n* \n* \n

My moderately exciting life

napalmhamster — Tue, 03 Jan 2006 04:02:54 +0300

Okay, so it's definately been a while since i've done an actual journal entry (I usually post poetry. I guess that's one way for me to get my feelings out.), so I figured I'd do one.

For those who don't know, I'm currently at a therapuedic boarding school (Think of it as a military school without the milatary and less restrictive.) I got to go home for Christmas. It was my second home visit, and my agreements (A.K.A. rules) were pretty chill. I was able to go out on my own and see my friends. My nice got baptized, and I stood in front of the congregation as both her uncle and her godfather. It was pretty awkward for me, a kid who doesn't believe in god and who has abandoned his Christian faith, to stand in front of over a hundered people and say, "I will, with god's help."

Empty Rooms & Darkened Hallways

napalmhamster — Mon, 02 Jan 2006 00:33:26 +0300

I am just another wanderer here,
Just another voluntary prisoner
In the house under the dry rain
I’m just another worthless loser
Enveloped by the pain
Of these empty rooms and darkened hallways

I am the shadow on the wall
Split the void with my silent call
Too dark to ever see
I can be your best friend
Or your worst enemy

I am my own jailer
In my self-built penitentiary
Deep in the dark recesses of my own mind

The Phoenix (I finally wrote something happy!)

napalmhamster — Thu, 29 Dec 2005 03:23:17 +0300

The Phoenix

There’s always a chance for a new beginning
There are always opportunities to wipe the slate clean
The only catch is that you must want it inside yourself
You must have a desire to change
For without the desire there is nothing
No chance to be born again.
If you do feel this need, this want to start anew
There is something you need to know:
The change may not come easy
It won’t happen at the flick of a wand

Bleeding Through (Completed Work)

napalmhamster — Wed, 28 Dec 2005 21:39:49 +0300

Bleeding Through

My father was my teacher
The one who taught me how
To dam up the River of Hurt
Now I wonder how he did it
I wonder what I missed
I can’t ignore it anymore
The flood is just to god damn much to hold

And now my pain is bleeding through
My walls are tumbling down
Defenseless
And now the siege is beginning
Emotions taking hold
I’m senseless

I’ve fallen into a lie

Death's Quick Release

napalmhamster — Sun, 18 Dec 2005 03:27:42 +0300

A friend of mine was talking to me about the struggles of his past, and I got the idea for this song. It's pretty dark, but my friend did have a pretty hard childhood.
Here's what I have so far-

Death's Quick Release

And now here I am again
Battling the tides of inevitability
Bellowing cries of heresy
Losing every step of the way

And now as I cry, gun to my head
I remember what my daddy said

Ignus Fortudus (Fool's Fire)

napalmhamster — Fri, 16 Dec 2005 21:43:18 +0300

Ignus Fortudus
(Fool’s Fire)

I was once a slave to the Ignus Fortudus,
That inexorable drug,
That temporary happiness,
That quick fix.

Little by little, bit by bit, it destroyed me,
I was consumed by it,
I was blinded by it,
I was dependent on it.

I finally escaped the tightening grip,
But there is nothing left.

A burnt out shell,
The remains of what was once a pure human being.

The Soldier's Fruit

napalmhamster — Fri, 16 Dec 2005 21:26:47 +0300

A soldier is in battle in the middle of an orchard, sounds of gunfire all around him.
He comes to a tree laden with large, ripened apples.
He picks one and tastes it.
How delicious it was.

I look around

napalmhamster — Fri, 16 Dec 2005 18:28:29 +0300

I Look Around

I look around,
I look around,
And I see falsity.
I look around,
I look around,
And I see normality.
I look around,
I look around,
And I see pain.
I look around,
I look around,
And I see souls stained by betrayal.
I look around,
I look around,
And I see fear.
I look around,
I look around,
And I see dashed hopes and shattered dreams.
I look around,
All around,
For the happiness I know to be there.
Somewhere.

Worried...

napalmhamster — Mon, 12 Dec 2005 03:38:00 +0300

I really worried about my godsister. She's a freshman at Mesa State University. On my last phone call, I heard that she had ditched finals and was driving to Washington to meet someone (Nobody knows who or why. Yeah, kind of wierd), and she rolled her car. Luckilly, she's okay, and she's at her parent's house. The scool might not let her back though, which makes me sad because I'm looking at appyling to MSU and was excited to tell her that we might be going to the same school.

Perfect High

napalmhamster — Sun, 11 Dec 2005 16:41:59 +0300

This poem has always been very meaningful to me.

The Search for the Perfect High
by Shel Silverstein

There once was a boy named Gimmesome Roy. He was nothing like me or you.
'Cause laying back and getting high was all he cared to do.
As a kid, he sat in the cellar, sniffing airplane glue.
And then he smoked bananas -- which was then the thing to do.
He tried aspirin in Coca-Cola, breathed helium on the sly,

1st five chapters of GENERATION LOST revised and edited... Feedback appreciated

napalmhamster — Sun, 11 Dec 2005 04:08:19 +0300

Chapter 1
Struggles
STANLEY MURPHY, OR “Murf