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the junkyard
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It's rubbish, it's clutter. but i just can't throw them to oblivion. Sunday, March 27, 2005. Registered nurse si Maria sa States. Kasama nya ang kanyang ina na nagpagamot doon. Namatay ang ina nito. Dahil sa kamahalan ng pamasahe pabalik sa Pilipinas, nagtipid si Maria. Pinauwi na lang niya ang kabaong ng kanyang ina na mag-isa. Pagdating ng kabaong, napansin ng mga kapamilya niya na dikit ang mukha sa salamin ng ataul. Nagkomento tuloy and isang anak, "Ay, naku! Mahal kong tatay at mga kapatid:. Ang pok...
thejunkyard.blogspot.com
the junkyard
http://thejunkyard.blogspot.com/2005_04_01_archive.html
It's rubbish, it's clutter. but i just can't throw them to oblivion. Monday, April 25, 2005. One night a guy takes his girlfriend home. As they are about to kiss each other goodnight at the front door, the guy starts feeling a little horny. With an air of confidence, he leans with his hand against the wall and smiling, he says to her, "Honey, would you give me a blow job? Horrified, she replies, "Are you mad? My parents will see us! Who's gonna see us at this hour? No way. It's just too risky! Sit down i...
thejunkyard.blogspot.com
the junkyard
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It's rubbish, it's clutter. but i just can't throw them to oblivion. Wednesday, August 24, 2005. If God brings you to it, He will bring you through it. Happy moments, praise God. Difficult moments, seek God. Quiet moments, worship God. Painful moments, trust God. Every moment, thank God. Wednesday, August 24, 2005. PaNaHoN nGaYoN Sa mAyNiLa:. PaNaHoN nGaYoN Sa SiNgApOrE:. Pansitan ni ate sienna. A taste of africa. The rock of manila. Mga bagay-bagay na kasalukuyang kinaiinisan.
thejunkyard.blogspot.com
the junkyard
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It's rubbish, it's clutter. but i just can't throw them to oblivion. Tuesday, October 25, 2005. Lthough things are not perfect. Ecause of trials or pain. O not begin to blame. Ven when the times are hard. Ierce winds are bound to blow. Od is forever able. Old on to what you know. Magine life without His love. Oy would cease to be. Eep thanking Him for all the things. Ove imparts to thee. Ove out of "Camp Complaining". O weapon that is known. N earth can yield the power. Raise can do alone.
ghostinthetrees.blogspot.com
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Saturday, February 14, 2009. Staring up at the empty sky, the starless sky. I push and the blue pushes back. Chapters leaf by in rapid motion. I run so hard to get away from what was. But regret catches me every time. I am staring up at the empty sky, the starless sky. I suppose no one can get in if i don't let them. But in the confusion i still wonder. Why no one gets in. The circle ends all the time,. It's over; it's been over for years;. But the scene never ends:. It never fails to loop seamlessly.
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Wednesday, March 21, 2012. Broken bone set crooked. So there it is all over again. The biting reminder of what never happened. It flashes so bright the electrical spark that numbs my head. And- sonofabitch- it came from the source. Romantic optimism, that nasty evil bitch,. Makes me reconsider over and over if it meant something. I dissuade myself and reconsider over and more. Of course not, but what if? The same circle that started this up again. I'm thinking about things that i shouldn't. Please return...
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Monday, June 7, 2010. This Town is Full of Ghosts. Spitting rain and misting. Rising steam in piles heaping. The side of the road is full and dangerous. Angel's wings and blacker things. Set me on fire. Walk away not in pity. Sharp, to the point,. Driving through ghosts to get here. Standing alone at the top of the hill. Swinging, missing, bleeding out. They scream and scream and gently tug. Tracing lines in the wet and leaf-littered ground. I get smaller everyday. I smell them, i taste them. Ghost in th...
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Tuesday, March 1, 2011. The black bark of the receiving trees. This house is a graveyard. Sitting on holy grounds and blackening the soils. Full of what is not and what really weasn't. The memory lies as the perspectives change. Ghosts in my graveyard. The black bark of the receiving trees. Feeding from unusable husks shed in haste. Whipping winds ringing through the night. The ground shifts over time and. The blood of ink seeps up through the greying craggy peaks. Risig like mountains into the night.
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Thursday, October 14, 2010. Calls me through the sussurus. Waiting for the buzz of the world. To trick me to sleep again. Shut them out, shut the world off. Calls me through the sussurus. Whipping boy on the post cries out for mercy. Comes to on a new day with most wounds scared. Hungry executioner, time. Willing taker, earth. The twins eager, inviting. Posted by india ink. The center of the forest bears no new tall trees. The woods are alive. The leaves are talking and jumping as the seeds. Holding on, ...
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http://ghostinthetrees.blogspot.com/2011/03/fire-blossoms-fight-on.html
Tuesday, March 1, 2011. The fire blossoms fight on. Cutting near silently through clothing. The sun is on fire and is spreading. To the flowers in the garden. So green, yet so red and orange and hot. It just hasn't hurt enough yet i suppose. So i dig my hands in deep,. These steps lead to nowhere but the empty garden. The glass rock and sheet rock lay in piles not ten feet out. And the fire blossoms fight on. Everywhere i've been is identical. Waiting for the night to slip in. I can count on them for that.