herby
The punishment should fit the crime. Or so I always thought. That was until I learned the causes of crime. How many criminals are starving when they steal bread? How many were abused at the hands of their captors or predators who hurt them irrepairably? And where is the punishment for those monsters who started the crimes?
Driving along a red dirt road I imagined my future. I dreamed about being a cowboy chasing cattle through the scrub on horseback or on a motorbike. I thought about nights spent sleeping in a swag under the stars and spinning yarns around the campfire.
The red dirt road was amazing for opening my heart, mind and soul to possibilities.
A blank canvas was all I had to work with. It was broad and white and scary. I wanted to paint something wonderful - something memorable. But I didn't want to ruin that beautiful image in my mind of the masterpiece I could not create. The first splotch of red paint on the canvas would be a ruin of something so perfect.
"Step by step, piece by piece." So begins a great song by Katie Melua ... Or at least I think that's how it goes. That's how it goes in my mind. Anyway, it's a fabulous song and I love to sing along to it. That's all I have to say on the matter today.
I can amuse myself by writing, dreaming, reading or riding my motorbike. I think it's fun to amuse myself - I don't need a party or social gathering to have fun. Mind you, I love parties. I always start slow and then am last to leave. The amusing thing is that I don't always have to drink alcohol to be stupid at parties. I can dance on the table tops sober.
I was ill once. I had a terrible flu. It was no worse than any other flu but I'm just such a man so I made out that it was. A man flu is the worst thing ever. We get all sooky like little boys. I coughed and spluttered with my flu. I asked for hot cups of tea and cuddles. I curled up under the blanket to sleep.
I have a ticket to ride. But I'm not sure where I'm going. Maybe to the zoo. Maybe to the park. Maybe on a train. Maybe on a boat.
Where do you want to ride baby? I wonder where we should go. Take my ticket and make a choice - show me a surprise. I am curious about your choice.
Violet is a gorgeous woman. She has auburn hair and broad hips. Her favourite colour is swamp green and her favourite item of clothing is an old pair of black leather boots. Her smile is enticing and her blue eyes sparkle when she turns her smile to me. Oh how I miss Violet.
"I won the trophy" the boy exclaimed excitedly.
He had been training for months and now he had finally succeeded. His little brown legs had propelled his roller skates forward towards the finish line faster than anyone else could get there. It had seemed as though he was gliding so fast he was but a blur. And now he was the victor. A small champion with brown hair and eyes.
Sticks and stones might break my bones but names will never hurt me. Truer words were never said. The nasty cruel names that you might choose to use to describe me are just that. Names. They are not me. They are a reflection of the ugly part of your soul. The part you keep hidden in a box and never let anyone see. They are sad and painful and hurt. You need a hug to help you overcome that harm.
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