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10/7/11 3:03 P

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If I really wanted to simplify my life, I would take time off to renew my energy and my creativity.

"Even the soil becomes depleted if it tries to produce without a season of rest."
T.D Jakes

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7/1/10 2:04 A

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My God shall supply all your need according to his riches in glory by Christ Jesus. Phil. 4:19

The Lord sustains the fatherless and the widow. Psalm 146:9

Life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass... It's about learning to dance in the rain.

 current weight: 178.0 
6/10/10 12:18 P

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I hate you.
You cunning, sly, monstrous beast. You donít deserve what you take.
Do you not have any regard for what you do? How can you live with what you do. You are a living thing Ė doesnít that make you deserving of life like the rest of us living things?
Not at all.
Youíre so undeserving of life that youíre formed without a parent. Instead, the peopleís lives that you take are forced to serve you. They are overcome by you. Not by choice, which should be something you should be ashamed of. Why do you do that? Why do you take over these lives? Youíre so undeserving, yet you get so much. You take one person, you take their family.
Thatís not right.
You have no right to live. You are wanted by no one, you are needed by nothing, and yet you continue to affect hundreds of thousands of people.
Who is your creator? What kind of monstrous mind, what kind of nutcase, what kind of conscienceless being thought of you. Who could ever think of such a thing?
Why are you here?
You somehow form within someone, like a flower in a field -- instead of beauty, you have evil. You plant yourself in an unsuspecting body. Your disgusting roots grow into the walls of an innocent, healthy organ. You develop into a being that even the devil himself doesnít deserve. You slow your host body down, you stupid fool.
You take over the whole system. Youíre so stupid that you take over, maim, and slowly kill the most valuable thing to you Ė the life-sustaining host. The host that I call my Grandma. The host that I called my Great-Grandma. The host that I called my Grandpa. You son of a bitch.
These people donít need you Ė you need them.
Their bodies become yours. It starts with their immune systems slowing down. Then they lose the weight. Lucky for you, youíre hard to detect. If youíre so proud, show yourself. Since youíve moved in, why donít you put up the sign and show your ugly face.
They slow down, lose their appetites, and lose their strength. Soon enough, though, youíre found. The doctors find you. You can hide all you want, but we know youíre there.
We shoot lasers into you. We try to shrink you and kill some parts of you. We pump poisons and toxins into the body Ė the body that youíve overtaken and need to survive Ė in order to prevent you from growing.
This body starts to deteriorate. Fast. The hair starts thinning and falling out. Basic functions are slowing and ceasing to operate. These poisons and toxins that are supposed to beat you at your game are slowly killing the person youíre relying on. As you die, the person dies a little too.
If Iím lucky, that person wonít be Grandma. If Iím lucky, youíll die and she will live. If Iím lucky sheíll win the war. You may have won some battles, you may have gotten her down, you may have taken some of the brightness out of her eyes, but if Iím lucky, if I have any say in anything in this world Ė you will surrender. You will lose. You will die.
Youíre unwanted.
You need to unhinge yourself from the pancreas that youíve nestled in and get the hell out. The eviction notice has been posted and youíre not welcome. You never have been and you never will be.
No one likes you. No one wants you. No one can fathom what you do while we sleep, while we eat, while we go to work, while we chat on the phone, while we throw parties, while we go through the daily ups and downs of life. No one can even dream of committing the horrors that you do.
I hate you.
Get the hell out.

A laugh is simply a smile out loud...
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