The Heron's Hope, the Reaper's Road, and the Child's Chuckle
How to Poop on the Past Eight Years
If I had not written about this, then my children would have asked me "Dad, was this election not important?" And quite the contrary. Though its importance may never be truly realized for years to come, no one can deny the events of November 4th has shaken the foundation and restored something in many... that was lost for a long time. For you see people had gotten used to to their faith being shattered. They became used to asking for something and not receiving it. So when all the hopeful people had actually received the one thing they were wishing for, their faith had been truly restored. Their hope was genuine. Change had indeed come.
And so it is my duty to congratulate Barack Obama on becoming the 44th president of the United State. It is not because I am American. It is not because I am Black. It is not because I am none of these things. Instead it is because it is my duty, as an advocate of hope. For this, I cry tears of joy.
The Past to Years on How Eight Poops
Forgive me on my crypticism and mystery. However on the very day that hope had been restored I had sold my soul to a demon. I would not call this demon the devil; for you see, the devil has a much more terrible plan. However, this plan with all its good intentions was a true test of one's ability to not be human. As I accompanied souls to their bitter fork in the road, I felt my heart leave me one beat at a time.
I have never excercised so much mental and emotional muscle. Ever.
Yet here I was, doing this out of duty. I was doing this out of responsibility. That is when the guilt settled. The fact that I would continue and probably be recognized, and be responsible for more.... ate me alive. For this, I cry tears of sadness.
On How to Poop Years: The Eighth
I had promised that in 2008 it would be cool to be old school. Everything before would be reinvented today. I had promised a storm of a year.
Between the departure of school, to the sack of golden reminders of where I had just been because of where I am now, to the new abode that brought me back to the old abode, to the depression we faced today that rivaled the crisis we faced before, to the President-elect who had changed things like the 16th before him, and to the fact that both my tears of sadness and tears of joy were fueled by reinventions that would change things for years to come...
It has been a storm of year... and it ain't over yet.
If I had not written about this, then my children would have asked me "Dad, was this election not important?" And quite the contrary. Though its importance may never be truly realized for years to come, no one can deny the events of November 4th has shaken the foundation and restored something in many... that was lost for a long time. For you see people had gotten used to to their faith being shattered. They became used to asking for something and not receiving it. So when all the hopeful people had actually received the one thing they were wishing for, their faith had been truly restored. Their hope was genuine. Change had indeed come.
And so it is my duty to congratulate Barack Obama on becoming the 44th president of the United State. It is not because I am American. It is not because I am Black. It is not because I am none of these things. Instead it is because it is my duty, as an advocate of hope. For this, I cry tears of joy.
The Past to Years on How Eight Poops
Forgive me on my crypticism and mystery. However on the very day that hope had been restored I had sold my soul to a demon. I would not call this demon the devil; for you see, the devil has a much more terrible plan. However, this plan with all its good intentions was a true test of one's ability to not be human. As I accompanied souls to their bitter fork in the road, I felt my heart leave me one beat at a time.
I have never excercised so much mental and emotional muscle. Ever.
Yet here I was, doing this out of duty. I was doing this out of responsibility. That is when the guilt settled. The fact that I would continue and probably be recognized, and be responsible for more.... ate me alive. For this, I cry tears of sadness.
On How to Poop Years: The Eighth
I had promised that in 2008 it would be cool to be old school. Everything before would be reinvented today. I had promised a storm of a year.
Between the departure of school, to the sack of golden reminders of where I had just been because of where I am now, to the new abode that brought me back to the old abode, to the depression we faced today that rivaled the crisis we faced before, to the President-elect who had changed things like the 16th before him, and to the fact that both my tears of sadness and tears of joy were fueled by reinventions that would change things for years to come...
It has been a storm of year... and it ain't over yet.
posted by Aceun at
6:26 PM
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