a gun can kill and help at the same time. it can families and friends yet it can also help by threatening the killer that smashes into your house. a gun can cause problems but it doesnt always have to.
Guns have been around a long time, thought John as he lay dying. They’ve been around a very long time, but there still isn’t a good way to treat the injury they inflict. The bullet had ripped a good chunk out of the back of his chest cavity. He coughed one last time, and stopped trying to get up. His assailant; a man John had never met before, rifled through his pockets, taking John’s wallet and, oddly enough, the condom he always kept with him. John died as he contemplated whether or not his assailant had just shot him for the wallet, or if the local pharmacy was just too far away to get protection.
Guns. It is not the gun that is the murder, it it the person who is in control of pulling the trigger and taking aim. A gun does not have angry thoughts of revenge.
The man grips the hard polished handle of the confederate relic. The barrel is cold, unimaginably harder and more unforgiving than the weaponry in the classic film-noir or war film. This object has the power to take a like in the twitch of a single finger.
Guns are cool i guess but i mean i like swords. they are way cooler and theyres so much more variety because theyre from different cultures and theres different styles and everything. i also like it because im a little old fashioned.
sometimes i think about getting a gun and then i think about all of the responsibility that comes with being a gun owner. it’s hard enough getting these guns (pointing to my arms) through security.
“don’t let them throw your life away. the only way you can create peace with a gun is to bury it deep in the ground and kiss the first person you see.”
I don’t know what it is about guns and how they have a hold over people. The way that they smell when they have been shot, the way it kicks you back a little when you aren’t sure how to hold it. It takes more time to think about the damage that it can do to someone. The damager that they have made possible in a world like ours, with men weak and easily distracted from the honor of the situation. People need to respect something that is so much larger than themselves, packaged neatly into self control and our civil rights. Right, where did the right to choose not to have to use guns go?
Oh god. I shot him! I fucking killed him! Oh jesus what am I gonna do!? I won’t survive in prison! I won’t last a day! Oh god oh man… Okay, I have to hide the body. Let me call Derek, he’ll know what to do.
i looked at the gun in his hands, pointed at me. panic flooded my brain and body, i couldn’t move , i tried to scream, all to no avail .i was done. bye world.
the bullets were fantastically driving unto the sun over and over again hunting their pride. Your heart beat was fantastically pontificating on life and the universe, which at the time had only been three neutrinos large. It was huge, HUGE I TELL YOU! only understand that the powers that were vested in me gave me great strength.
Don’t jump the gun, they always say. I’m actually pretty sure that it doesn’t actually matter. I’ll jump the gun if I want to. Unless there’s some sort of stupid time limit, I’ll jump as early and as far as I’d like. It doesn’t make any difference to anyone but me; I’ll deal with the consequences.
you can use these to fire at people who you must be really, really pissed off with. They must have done something truly terrible for you to have to shoot them. I don’t think I could ever shoot anybody, and I think if I was around somebody with a gun I would be really agitated. No more guns please.
i had a gun. i didn’t really know how to use it, because my friends don’t own guns. I guess you cock it. I have nothing to shoot at? I guess the cat. I like the cat though. I would miss the cat anyway. If i shot away from the cat though, I would probably hit the cat. I’m a terrible shot, I already know that. maybe i should put the gun down now. Yeah. I’ll do that.
taking the slow side road. i ran for miles. i haven’t a care in the world. for the time being i am a godless, hedonistic man. i take the mud off my shoes with a daily application of principle. see the farm. see the angry mother. take the time to think. fight the dog who barks in the night. steal time.
it was a cold, dark night. i had already been to several taverns and other places of a questionable nature that is oddly more apparent in the dark. a figure approached from my rear. a quiet ghost in the silence of a dead fog. i could tell he saw me for who i was. a gun was drawn. pull the trigger.
gun. what is a gun. not something to be scared of, i know that. something that makes me feel like a badass because i can shoot one pretty damn well. and i’m a girl
shes got her gun in her hand looking like shes gonna poop her pats in italtian she sings loves to me in spanish she sings me to sleep and kills me in death. boston is calling her to go to college and i wnt alaska and no more formspring or porn or anything, i want heven i want jesus
i dont like them at all. they promote violence. screw that. seriously. why do people have to own guns? they only bring havoc on our society. hunting? please. thats terrible. eat meat. dont go out and kill it yourself. thats just cruel. it makes people insensitive to blood and..how could anyone gut an animal? the thought makes me sick to my stomach! guns are ridiculous. :( i hate them so much.
I have wondered some times what it would be like to shoot one of these contraptions. Would I feel powerful, or just wrong? I think wrong. At the track meet today, when they shot the gun, I flinched. I couldn’t help it. I must have looked quite silly, but who cares? WHO THE FUCK CARES? I have learned to stop caring about dumb things.
Guns:The root of all evil. A stupid useless life-ending device. Without this device, many lives would have been saved. Some loved ones you never met, well this could be part of the reason you haven’t met them. Not one human has the authority to use this and end someone’s life. And using it as a defense is no excuse. Curse the man who invented this device for his own selfish reasons! Still, as useless as this device is, almost everyone has one. They are used in wars, battles and other forms of this device are used in air raids. Wars! My lord, Oh the wars that wouldn’t have come to be! Different event wouldn’t even have existed : 9/11, Pearl Harbor, maybe even the Holocaust(to an extent) So if this device only causes disaster,distress,devastation,and disappointment, why is it still infused into our daily life> Please answer because I don’t understand.
A gun shoots a flask. Your vision is blurred. The man standing next to you is pointing to the window.By the looks of his hat he seems to have a strong attitude. The Dust reaches the window.
My name is a word that stands for blood, a word that means death and turmoil and chaos and guts sprayed everywhere, nothing but disaster and loss and bursts of scarlet against brown skin.
The gun aims me, and I lift my hand, nudged into position by the inexorable forces of being.
Guns have a sense of cool about them. The cold steel, the gunpowder lying prone inside the shell of the bullet. The sight of a detective using one to solve a case or a soldier to solve a conflict is a sight to behold.
Gun in your hand you wait. There is a flash. Suddenly you can’t see. Then light. Followed by red. Red fills your vision. You begin to feel good. You realize what is happening…you’re dying.
They told me not to do it, but I couldn’t resist. The gun was just sitting there. Waiting. Waiting for me to pick it up, caress it. And then pick a lucky bastard.
Give a boy a gun? Are you insane? Outside of your intellectual membrane? Guns are for killing. Killing, and shilling. If i buy one for a shilling, is that ok? Absolutely not. Some use it for target practice and for fun. Some for skeet-shooting, why so bad, cause it’s a gun? yES, frankly, i would say inherently
It’s like a loaded gun inside their bodies. The cancer holds them hostage with no hope of an escape. At any moment it will unleash the rest of it’s fury and the cancer inside will take their lives.
He fired the gun. It was hot. It was loud. He was mad. She fell down. She was dead. It was too bad he thought. She would have made a fine chef, but she had really pissed him off.
there’s a gun in my pocked and I dare not to use it. I’m a coward, a selfish shellfish stuck in my shell as a snail. Oh the alliteration, the INTENSE SUSPENCE. Bang.
Gundah, the boy, died whilst pulling the trigger of the other mother’s babies friend. She held him too long. Left him without sin looking towards the barrel of the gun. Bang bang, she’s got no name.
a gun can kill and help at the same time. it can families and friends yet it can also help by threatening the killer that smashes into your house. a gun can cause problems but it doesnt always have to.
the fire man lunged between the red stairwell and the gun case. he did not yet know his fate.
Guns have been around a long time, thought John as he lay dying. They’ve been around a very long time, but there still isn’t a good way to treat the injury they inflict. The bullet had ripped a good chunk out of the back of his chest cavity. He coughed one last time, and stopped trying to get up. His assailant; a man John had never met before, rifled through his pockets, taking John’s wallet and, oddly enough, the condom he always kept with him. John died as he contemplated whether or not his assailant had just shot him for the wallet, or if the local pharmacy was just too far away to get protection.
Guns. It is not the gun that is the murder, it it the person who is in control of pulling the trigger and taking aim. A gun does not have angry thoughts of revenge.
item used for killing. It can be a good thing but it can also be very bad. Why does it rhyme with fun?
The man grips the hard polished handle of the confederate relic. The barrel is cold, unimaginably harder and more unforgiving than the weaponry in the classic film-noir or war film. This object has the power to take a like in the twitch of a single finger.
your face is a gun.
Guns are cool i guess but i mean i like swords. they are way cooler and theyres so much more variety because theyre from different cultures and theres different styles and everything. i also like it because im a little old fashioned.
sometimes i think about getting a gun and then i think about all of the responsibility that comes with being a gun owner. it’s hard enough getting these guns (pointing to my arms) through security.
“don’t let them throw your life away. the only way you can create peace with a gun is to bury it deep in the ground and kiss the first person you see.”
I don’t know what it is about guns and how they have a hold over people. The way that they smell when they have been shot, the way it kicks you back a little when you aren’t sure how to hold it. It takes more time to think about the damage that it can do to someone. The damager that they have made possible in a world like ours, with men weak and easily distracted from the honor of the situation. People need to respect something that is so much larger than themselves, packaged neatly into self control and our civil rights. Right, where did the right to choose not to have to use guns go?
Oh god. I shot him! I fucking killed him! Oh jesus what am I gonna do!? I won’t survive in prison! I won’t last a day! Oh god oh man… Okay, I have to hide the body. Let me call Derek, he’ll know what to do.
i looked at the gun in his hands, pointed at me. panic flooded my brain and body, i couldn’t move , i tried to scream, all to no avail .i was done. bye world.
the bullets were fantastically driving unto the sun over and over again hunting their pride. Your heart beat was fantastically pontificating on life and the universe, which at the time had only been three neutrinos large. It was huge, HUGE I TELL YOU! only understand that the powers that were vested in me gave me great strength.
Don’t jump the gun, they always say. I’m actually pretty sure that it doesn’t actually matter. I’ll jump the gun if I want to. Unless there’s some sort of stupid time limit, I’ll jump as early and as far as I’d like. It doesn’t make any difference to anyone but me; I’ll deal with the consequences.
you can use these to fire at people who you must be really, really pissed off with. They must have done something truly terrible for you to have to shoot them. I don’t think I could ever shoot anybody, and I think if I was around somebody with a gun I would be really agitated. No more guns please.
i had a gun. i didn’t really know how to use it, because my friends don’t own guns. I guess you cock it. I have nothing to shoot at? I guess the cat. I like the cat though. I would miss the cat anyway. If i shot away from the cat though, I would probably hit the cat. I’m a terrible shot, I already know that. maybe i should put the gun down now. Yeah. I’ll do that.
taking the slow side road. i ran for miles. i haven’t a care in the world. for the time being i am a godless, hedonistic man. i take the mud off my shoes with a daily application of principle. see the farm. see the angry mother. take the time to think. fight the dog who barks in the night. steal time.
he held the gun closer to her.
her breathing calmed.
she was ready to go.
she took her final breath and said to him
“you released me.”
and with that, she committed her self to an eternity that was unknown.
it was a cold, dark night. i had already been to several taverns and other places of a questionable nature that is oddly more apparent in the dark. a figure approached from my rear. a quiet ghost in the silence of a dead fog. i could tell he saw me for who i was. a gun was drawn. pull the trigger.
gun. what is a gun. not something to be scared of, i know that. something that makes me feel like a badass because i can shoot one pretty damn well. and i’m a girl
shes got her gun in her hand looking like shes gonna poop her pats in italtian she sings loves to me in spanish she sings me to sleep and kills me in death. boston is calling her to go to college and i wnt alaska and no more formspring or porn or anything, i want heven i want jesus
i dont like them at all. they promote violence. screw that. seriously. why do people have to own guns? they only bring havoc on our society. hunting? please. thats terrible. eat meat. dont go out and kill it yourself. thats just cruel. it makes people insensitive to blood and..how could anyone gut an animal? the thought makes me sick to my stomach! guns are ridiculous. :( i hate them so much.
I have wondered some times what it would be like to shoot one of these contraptions. Would I feel powerful, or just wrong? I think wrong. At the track meet today, when they shot the gun, I flinched. I couldn’t help it. I must have looked quite silly, but who cares? WHO THE FUCK CARES? I have learned to stop caring about dumb things.
He felt the barrel of the gun press against his forehead. How did it come to this? How could he let this happen.
With only his eyes, he stared up at the hand holding the gun. Roxie Dubois was dangerous alright.
Guns:The root of all evil. A stupid useless life-ending device. Without this device, many lives would have been saved. Some loved ones you never met, well this could be part of the reason you haven’t met them. Not one human has the authority to use this and end someone’s life. And using it as a defense is no excuse. Curse the man who invented this device for his own selfish reasons! Still, as useless as this device is, almost everyone has one. They are used in wars, battles and other forms of this device are used in air raids. Wars! My lord, Oh the wars that wouldn’t have come to be! Different event wouldn’t even have existed : 9/11, Pearl Harbor, maybe even the Holocaust(to an extent) So if this device only causes disaster,distress,devastation,and disappointment, why is it still infused into our daily life> Please answer because I don’t understand.
shot me dead.
fight to survive.
dead.
DEAD.
we’re all dead.
because of you.
killer.
murderer.
place you in my hands.
*click*
Bad kills people, murder, death, sorrow, war, sadness, depression, loved ones crying over loss, soldiers
A gun shoots a flask. Your vision is blurred. The man standing next to you is pointing to the window.By the looks of his hat he seems to have a strong attitude. The Dust reaches the window.
There is a gun and it is screaming my name.
My name is a word that stands for blood, a word that means death and turmoil and chaos and guts sprayed everywhere, nothing but disaster and loss and bursts of scarlet against brown skin.
The gun aims me, and I lift my hand, nudged into position by the inexorable forces of being.
he drew the gun from his hips not thinking that the one in front of him was someone he cared for.
Guns have a sense of cool about them. The cold steel, the gunpowder lying prone inside the shell of the bullet. The sight of a detective using one to solve a case or a soldier to solve a conflict is a sight to behold.
Gun in your hand you wait. There is a flash. Suddenly you can’t see. Then light. Followed by red. Red fills your vision. You begin to feel good. You realize what is happening…you’re dying.
it was shaking in his hand.
“Artie?”
“Artie?” I repeated.
He didn’t answer.
“Did you do something stupid Artie?”
He had done something stupid.
They told me not to do it, but I couldn’t resist. The gun was just sitting there. Waiting. Waiting for me to pick it up, caress it. And then pick a lucky bastard.
Give a boy a gun? Are you insane? Outside of your intellectual membrane? Guns are for killing. Killing, and shilling. If i buy one for a shilling, is that ok? Absolutely not. Some use it for target practice and for fun. Some for skeet-shooting, why so bad, cause it’s a gun? yES, frankly, i would say inherently
It’s like a loaded gun inside their bodies. The cancer holds them hostage with no hope of an escape. At any moment it will unleash the rest of it’s fury and the cancer inside will take their lives.
He fired the gun. It was hot. It was loud. He was mad. She fell down. She was dead. It was too bad he thought. She would have made a fine chef, but she had really pissed him off.
there’s a gun in my pocked and I dare not to use it. I’m a coward, a selfish shellfish stuck in my shell as a snail. Oh the alliteration, the INTENSE SUSPENCE. Bang.
Gundah, the boy, died whilst pulling the trigger of the other mother’s babies friend. She held him too long. Left him without sin looking towards the barrel of the gun. Bang bang, she’s got no name.