Below are the 10 most recent journal entries recorded in i·de·ol·o·gy's LiveJournal:

Tuesday, January 13th, 2004
10:36 pm [pengueehime]	2 Poems Two poems with the same idea in mind, just thought I'd share. I see you falling, And all I do is see That your face is a smile And the remnents debris. But this will I promise As you fall to the ground That I'll be there to catch you My love's not profound. But I can be a safety In this world full of hate, And know that I love you, And I'll try to relate All thoughts And all passions, Knowing inside me It's words and not actions. But as the carboard facade Slips from your face I'll see that I've found you, And given you grace. You'll be who I know, And be who I love, The one who is shining, And I'm most proud of. So when you feel yourself Slipping astray, Reach out for my hand, It's not far away. I'll try to hold on, And I'll never let go, And forever we'll balance, Alone on the snow. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I can see you falling, Swirling towards the ground, And I can only watch your downspin. Praying that you'll land safely, Even though there's not A hand to catch you, Except for cool concrete. Your failure expected, Your reaction was not, And the warm blood and snow mixes and creates Life slush As I stare down at the now lifeless body That I had so dearly loved. How can one live with the fact Of being two seconds too late? If only I had caught you, As you fell like an autumn leaf caught in a tiny tornado In the days when we were together When nothing was over. Blood pooling at my feet as I fall next to you, (Knowing my clothes don't matter) As I cradle your broken head In my lap, staining myself with your now cooling blood. Why now? I ask, Letting my unheard tears fall onto your now Dead eyes. I don't even feel my hand begin to freeze with your now cold blood. How ironic, How your warmth used to radiate Like a sun. As now I'm slowly dying beside you, My burned out star. Current Mood: contemplative (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Monday, January 5th, 2004
3:54 am [kingofthething]	Purposes What was the original purpose of this community? It seems to have just withered and died on its back of good intentions. A forum for constructive critisizm and creativity deserves a proper place in the minds and friends pages of many more than 5 individuals. Here is your homework assignment... Go on your friend's page and find one person who is not a member of this forum and tell them to join. Once they get here, they can do the same. Think like a virus and we'll soon flourish instead of flounder! Peace and Llove Eric Current Mood: determined (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Tuesday, October 14th, 2003
2:53 pm [jessichan]	I thought this community was getting lonely. The following is a Found Poem... (a piece of text from elsewhere that was turned into a poem) This was out of The Crow (the comic book) specifically from the introduction by John Bergin. It's currently untitled... well, here goes. One day you are going to lose everything you have. nothing will prepare you for that day not faith not religion NOTHING. When someone you love dies you will know emptiness, you will know completely and utterly ALONE. Think about what you have to lose If you are someone who already has nothing to lose you are already here; your lesson is a far more difficult one. Current Mood: sniffley (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Monday, April 28th, 2003
9:40 pm [pengueehime]	I wonder... I wonder what ever happened to the neverending story...you know, the story about Joel? Why doesn't someone go to the community and and add to the story, just ignore the stuff that was mindless boobery...(It is obvious if you look at it) ^^ It would be nifty if you could! ^_^ It's quite funny if you read the comments to it, trust me. ^^ Well, now for my creative part.... Fire flew from her fingers as she pounded the keyboard with her fingers. "This....can...not...be...true...." Her mind screamed. "Nothing....like....this...is..." Filled full of anger and wrath, she pounded her feelings out to the empty computer screen. It was her outlet to all the pain she felt during her life. Anger, hate, hate, anger. It was miracluous how she could always put her feelings into words.... when she typed it to the computer screen. An empty void, it sucked up all her emotions, and finally brought release. Feeling better, she turned it off, never rereading her feelings, locking them away in the void of plastic and glass. Plastic . . . and . . .glass Current Mood: creative (Comment on this)
Saturday, April 26th, 2003
11:40 pm [kingofthething]	This was a random conversation. This dude IM'd me from nowhere and started talking to me. He asked me this question and it spawned a clash of beliefs. Just thought I'd share it with you all. punKeEbreWstEr65: if you died tonight where would you go close2thesilence: depends on who's asking punKeEbreWstEr65: llamas close2thesilence: well, who is this? close2thesilence: lets try it this way, where would you go if you died tonight? punKeEbreWstEr65: uo punKeEbreWstEr65: *up punKeEbreWstEr65: to Jesus close2thesilence: interesting concept punKeEbreWstEr65: whats your viewpoint close2thesilence: well, I wouldn't know until I woke up. I'd wake up dead and realize something was wrong. I'd probably start my work as a spirit guide, like other lost souls have done for me. punKeEbreWstEr65: hm close2thesilence: I'm a personal prophet. I believe what makes the most sense to me. That's why I created my own "religion" although I don't really like to call it that. It's more like a collection of ideas that I hold particularly high when it comes to the aspects of belief verses facts. punKeEbreWstEr65: hm punKeEbreWstEr65: so what do you believe close2thesilence: that's quite a vague statement to say the least. Because there are so many other questions that exist inside that one. Take for example, do I believe in an afterlife? Yes I do. Do I believe in God? Jesus? No I don't. Evolution vs. Creation? I stand with the evolutionists. And then with my answers comes an entire new string of questions. punKeEbreWstEr65: how was the first thing created close2thesilence: good question. I don't know the answer to that. I don't think we'll ever know. But the basis of all matter is atoms and the basis of all atoms is electricity. Electricity is the building block of everything. So where did the electricity come from? My best answer is nowhere. Electricity can be generated from out of nothing and disappear into nothing. It's quite a fascinating thing if you think about it. punKeEbreWstEr65: so you believe in nothing punKeEbreWstEr65: you believe that it just happened punKeEbreWstEr65: noone did it? close2thesilence: yeah. I mean, sure, you could believe a glamerous story that this being sitting in the void of nothingness got lonely so he decided to "create" a world. It's a lovely bedtime story full of good intentions but it makes no sense to me. If the electricity that formed everything had to come from somewhere, then so did god. punKeEbreWstEr65: There has to be a begingin punKeEbreWstEr65: God is beginning punKeEbreWstEr65: its more than a bed time story punKeEbreWstEr65: its a reality close2thesilence: to you and those who wish to believe it. To me, it's nothing more than a story in a book. I believe that there was a beginning, and it started with the spontanious eruption of matter clashing with anti-matter resulting in the electric jolt that blasted us into where we are today. To me, that's a reality. punKeEbreWstEr65: it all sounds quite story like to me as well close2thesilence: and that's what's wrong with the world! Now, would you agree that we're seeing eye to eye on this? punKeEbreWstEr65: no close2thesilence: no, wait, I mean punKeEbreWstEr65: i dont believe that complete havoc erupted close2thesilence: eye to eye on the fact that we both have a firm set of beliefs? punKeEbreWstEr65: and an able working human "evolved" punKeEbreWstEr65: yes but that doesnt confirm the fact that i ever want to see you in hell punKeEbreWstEr65: i want you to be in heaven punKeEbreWstEr65: i want you to know exactly where you are going if you died punKeEbreWstEr65: right now punKeEbreWstEr65: without a doubt close2thesilence: I know exactly where I'm going close2thesilence: in the ground! close2thesilence: or a vase punKeEbreWstEr65: what happens to your soul punKeEbreWstEr65: are you nothing more than an animal close2thesilence: the soul... now there's something worth talking about close2thesilence: what is your definition of a soul? punKeEbreWstEr65: your spirit close2thesilence: no, but, what IS it? close2thesilence: there's speculation as to what the soul actually is, whether it's a part of the physical body, like an extention of the brain, is it there the entire time? Or does it appear once you die? Or if it's even yours. punKeEbreWstEr65: it is seperated from the body in death close2thesilence: so during life, it's a part of the physical body? punKeEbreWstEr65: its a persons emotional and moran nature. the aninating and vital pricipal credited with thought action and emotion punKeEbreWstEr65: yes close2thesilence: to me, the soul is an extention of the mind. Every living thing, like I said before, is made up of electricity. When you die, the life force of your body (your soul) leaves it. The spirit is the electrical charge that enabled the body to function. I agree that it's the emotional/moral/thinking part of the body. punKeEbreWstEr65: electrical eh> punKeEbreWstEr65: check in with me later punKeEbreWstEr65: id love to talk to you somet more Peace and Llove Eric Current Mood: contemplative (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Friday, February 21st, 2003
2:29 pm [purpledice]	words sliding out my fingers Deep in the dark and dank of clay Something strong was built A goddess who could sing all day With a crystal sound and lilt Hair that flowed like liquid light Eyes that burned through stone Holding a sword, long and bright That slid through evil bone A scar went straight across her face Bright red and not to miss From hair to chin, it brought a grace Sealed with fire's kiss Then came one day a woman tall Who tortured for her trade She had a voice like raven's call Eyes green and sharp as jade Continue! (3 Comments |Comment on this)
12:42 am [kingofthething]	so... I done figure I should add my two pennies since I was told to join. So I'm just going to move my fingers without stopping and see what comes out. Every new paragraph will mean my fingers stopped moving. Let's go... NOW! In a suburb outside of Seattle, Washington, a kid kicked an old can across the street. The can, containing baked beans and an ugly slab of fat in it's hey-day, was beyond being saved by any normal child and was reduced to boredom relieving kicking and soon found itself lost in the bowels of the suburbian streets as a floating buoy on it's way to the sea... The child, Henry Richards by name, was on his way home from another proactive day of government controlled and domineered education for the better of his existance. Henry kicked the can to the curb and watched it slide into the bowels of the streets. Disreguarding it as another fact of life, Henry took a step towards the foundation of concrete, wood, and aluminum siding he called home. Reaching his hands into the mail box at eye level, he pulled out the usual stack of red ink and store circulars proclaiming sales unlike any that have ever happened. "Buy two, get three free" they preach, like a reverand short of breath and shorter on faith to the consumer. Henry entered the twisted atmosphere of a screen door home with a two-way smoke screen that covered the problems like 5 dollar shellac, free when two were bought. Henry stepped the thirteen steps to his room and was taken by gravity and sadness to the debths of his pillows. The forgiving blue was soon a darker shade of moisture and emotion. The sheets of his youth were the only guidance he needed. Sheets listen and never talk back. And when they've heard enough, they can be washed clean to forget the past and accept future sadness with the absorbance of a sponge, free with the purchase of shellac and a down-payment of bad days and rain clouds. Seattle, the rainiest city in the United States sees it's years through with 2/3 rainy days and 33/99 wishful thinking. The ocean-effect rain causes more unwarrented suicides than any other city in the world. What would one be led to expect when this certain city gave birth to the world the likes of Kurt Cobain and the Space Needle, one in the sky and another pointing to it. People like Kurt must have looked to the needle for guidance, or like an arrow, pointing to the only place they could find happiness. It must have been obvious to Kurt and everyone else effected by 2/3 of the days in Seattle that there's certainly none down here on Earth. END I don't know where that came from... For some reason, the title of a Marcy Playground song (The Shadows of Seattle) has been in my head for over a week and the whole theme of Seattle seems like a decent thing to write something about, so why not? It's got a lot to write about, obviously, so I decided to go for it. This is right off the tips of my fingers and probably contains lots of typo's and such but I wrote it as it came to me so don't critisize me for a first draft. It's just not nice... Well, I'm out! Peace and Llove Eric Current Mood: bored (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Thursday, February 20th, 2003
4:49 pm [thezed]	Never Ending Song The ideology of this is to produce a never ending song. Some rules on this one is that it must have some rhytmn or rhyme. Feel free to include favorite artist lyrics if you give em credit and it rolls with the feel. though originality is appreciated. Enjoy. Without further to do lets roll... this isn't the song that never ends it prolly won't go on and on my friends cause its a zed production and the like parental function it seeks disapproval from the youth that are cruel and so they shout out Zeddie your a fool jester that is flip off finger blurred censored ZeD don't want a piece of the nasty head ZeD head yah ZeD head yah yah yah break out of this with something simple simple complicated like a kiss like a kiss from you (continue?) (3 Comments |Comment on this)
3:16 pm [warchylde]	neverending story This is a neverending story. Please feel free to add on as you will. No restrictions, no rules. Just take it and go with it Once apon a time there was a little person named Joel. His father owned a shop on a hill in the small village of Thorsvald. Joel, himself, was a knight. He enjoyed riding to battle atop his valiant steed. Joel was a hero. He had won many battles and had saved the villiage countless times from mauraders and stray dragons. The people of Thorsvald didn't think so, however. They thought Joel was a nuisence. He always butted his nose into their business. He only wanted to talk about battle and glory and how he was aquainted with the King. "We could tolerate his stories the first few times he told them," complained the villagers, "but it gets old very fast. There is only so many times you want to hear about impalings and beheadings and how a dragon's breath will cook you like an oven when you're wearing a suit of armor." So the villagers had a secret meeting without Joel Knight and tried to think of ways that they could get him some hobbies. The miller's wife had the great suggestion of hunting. "You can slay countless beasts but it's a gentlemen's sport, rather than a slaughter." So the next day, the baker casually mentioned to Joel that he would like to see him engaged in the gentlemen's sport of hunting. "Oh really?" Asked Joel. "Oh yes..." Pressed the Baker, "Everyone in town thinks that you can be the best hunter of the shire." "Well, I am brave." Joel commented. "Oh yes, and strong, and you have so much experience with killing." The baker persuaded. "Well then, on the morrow I will take up hunting." Joel decided. If everyone thinks that I can do it, then by all means, I'll try. to be continued by anyone who wishes... Current Mood: inspired (7 Comments |Comment on this)
11:00 am [thezed]	Welcome! What are ways that I can present a powerfull welcome that will draw the attention of the masses? Reply to this post with your ideas. -ZeD Current Mood: accomplished (1 Comment |Comment on this)