Damn I Want A Whole Story On This Now

Mary's boy:

Did Mary scream when she held the body of a boy; everyone's but hers? At the blood on his crown, did she lick her fingers and wipe it clean? Smooth back his hair like she did when he was just a babe? Wash the red from his feet, never drank wine again. Pulled at the nails in his tender hands until hers were raw. Maybe she spit and yelled and cried at anyone who came too close to her boy gone limp and blue. Even the believers turned away. They didn't love her boy. His messy hair and soft eyes, his gentle hands, whispered voice. The way he hid in the river and spoke to the fish like old friends. Came home with dirty feet and flushed cheeks. Her running, dancing, singing boy. They didn't love her boy. They loved God's son. Not Mary's boy.

Oh my God this is probably the best thing I've seen in a while! Thank you for sharing your amazing Creation with the world

oh man im so sleepy i cant see straight, but im done!! Shindeku animation set to the tune of Welcome to My Parents House by NSP (with some emic on the side) i started yesterday and finished right before midnight! go me <3

@Bambi: decorum? in this economy? went bankrupt. it's all about debauchery now

OMG I love this so much!

Please don't give up, things are dark and bleak right now but please don't give up. Everything me seem and feel impossible but there's so much left to fight for. So many to fight for.

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*America, Now*

America, land of fractured dreams,

Where hope is dimmer than it seems.

Once bright with promise, strong and sure,

Now shadows linger, hard to cure.

The streets are loud, with voices raw,

Divided hearts, divided law.

Truth is scattered, torn in two,

While justice falters, lost from view.

The cost of care is measured cold,

A weight too heavy to uphold.

And children, eyes too young for grief,

See futures robbed by silent thieves.

Guns in hands, fear in eyes,

Unseen wounds and whispered lies.

A country built on strength and pride,

Feels splintered now, cracked open wide.

Yet still beneath the hardened soil,

There’s grit, there’s fight, a pulsing coil.

A spark of what it once could be—

A dream that strains to be set free.

America, bruised but holding on,

In every heart, a quiet dawn.

For even through the darkest night,

There’s still a chance to heal, to fight.

One of my favorite insults:

As useful as a soup Sandwich

The American dream... is literally a dream, because you have to be asleep to believe it.

*The Wreckage He Left*

He came with swagger, full of might,

A showman draped in blinding light.

Promises spun like a carnival wheel,

But behind the glow was cold, hard steel.

He whispered rage to hollow souls,

Poured gasoline in hidden bowls,

Igniting fears, fanning hate—

Turning hearts to a darker state.

He crushed the weak with careless words,

Let greed take flight like hungry birds.

Ignored the pleas of those in pain,

Left them stranded in the rain.

Children torn from open arms,

Families shattered, dreams uncharmed,

He built his walls and watched them cry—

A border crossed by silent sighs.

He mocked the earth, dismissed its plea,

Laughed off its fires, its rising seas.

Turned away from our dying lands,

While forests burned beneath his hands.

And justice, too, he pulled apart,

Broke its spine, unbound its heart.

Bent laws to suit his shifting game,

And turned our values into shame.

Now left behind, a fractured place,

With wounds that time must now erase.

A nation scarred, but still we stand,

To rebuild, renew, with steadier hands.

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Things will get better, they have to. They can't stay bad forever, right?

**Beneath the Flag**

O land of promise, bold and bright,

Your stars once blazed a hopeful light,

But shadows fall where dreams decay,

As gilded hopes drift far away.

Skies of blue and fields of green,

Hide truths beneath a painted scene,

Where wealth divides, and justice sways,

And voices fade in endless haze.

Cities hum and highways roar,

Yet many struggle, wanting more;

The streets are paved with stories lost,

And freedom bears a quiet cost.

A land of plenty, yet denied,

Where broken dreams and secrets hide.

...Where hope and hardship still collide.

......Where shadows linger, hope entwined.

Where hands reach out but come back bare,

And promises hang in the air,

A country torn, a dream betrayed,

As weary hearts still hope for aid.

A spark ignites, a quiet flame,

It whispers first, then calls a name.

Through shadows deep, through silence thick,

It stirs the soul, it makes hearts quick.

The winds of change begin to blow,

A truth once buried starts to grow.

The old ways crack, the walls decay,

As voices rise and feet give way.

The roar of hope, the cry of pain,

A thunderclap, a driving rain.

Revolution calls with steady hand,

To tear apart, to take a stand.

The ground will tremble, hearts will race,

As power shifts, as hearts embrace.

The chains once held will break and fall,

And freedom’s light will pierce it all.

But revolution, fierce and wild,

Is never tame, nor always mild.

It burns the past, but leaves behind,

A future shaped by all mankind.

So when the drums of change are heard,

Let courage rise, let voices stir.

For revolution, bold and true,

Is born from hope and what we choose.