tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27830095343648423462024-02-20T00:19:31.607-06:00Bit TormentGeneral mayhem for thinking people, and those who wish to.Jeremy D. Breauxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06533189751106820051noreply@blogger.comBlogger39125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2783009534364842346.post-81833144028115224072015-12-13T20:14:00.003-06:002015-12-13T20:14:30.391-06:00HEY! What is that?Have you ever forgotten you had something? Like a blog? This blog. I forgot. OOPS! <br />
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Jeremy D. Breauxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06533189751106820051noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2783009534364842346.post-53737329903554624232013-12-19T10:43:00.002-06:002013-12-19T10:43:28.990-06:00updateI am reviewing this site and working to begin publishing again.Jeremy D. Breauxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06533189751106820051noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2783009534364842346.post-25500485110116579222013-12-19T10:41:00.001-06:002013-12-19T10:41:50.399-06:00TreacherNo lie is quite so bitter as the lie your friend believes. Yet, I stand and watch as those who proclaim the truth, fall to lies and evil. We pretend and those around believe your little play...but I am here, waiting, watching. No lie is quite so bitter as the lie that births treachery in the heart of my friends. For that, The Cold Killer awaits you in your deepest dreams. <br />
<br />
This war has been on the horizon for years and I tried to warn you. Why do you choose to ignore wisdom? Do you see yourself as intelligent? You are not. You are just another sickly goat in sheep's clothing. I reach for you to help and change your evil nature. You pull away and proclaim your understanding and intelligence. But when the poison worked its way you lashed out and hurt everyone around you. Are you so blind? Yes. But we are all blind, seeing what we can see and ignoring the blight in our own souls. The sight to see that you are blind is the beginning to killing the treacherer in you, for that imp will die and if you fail to separate it from you, your fates will be tied. For their is only one price for treachery, DeathJeremy D. Breauxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06533189751106820051noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2783009534364842346.post-64692792781757989672013-12-19T10:36:00.001-06:002013-12-19T10:36:16.617-06:00ResultingStress is the result of resulting results resulting in results that are not conducive to the results you want. Jeremy D. Breauxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06533189751106820051noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2783009534364842346.post-28451935763588863792012-07-17T18:02:00.001-05:002012-07-17T18:02:07.021-05:00WhyWhy?Jeremy D. Breauxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06533189751106820051noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2783009534364842346.post-10201003273985360902011-03-21T21:16:00.000-05:002013-12-19T10:37:37.277-06:00BecarefulBe careful the lies you tell. <br />
Someone may hear them and decide to make them true. <br />
In fulfilling your worst nightmares, make you a truthsayer when all you wanted was to tell the lies. <br />
Bound up in the spotlight but never free to heal your wounds. <br />
Getting all you wanted but not what you needed. <br />
Be careful the lies you tell. <br />
You may hear them and decide they are truth.Jeremy D. Breauxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06533189751106820051noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2783009534364842346.post-91861014136631121552011-02-24T22:51:00.000-06:002013-12-19T10:37:52.963-06:00RealityWhat is, is. <br />
What isn't, isn't. <br />
Your beliefs bear no effect on either. <br />
What is real will always be and that which we see rarely is real. <br />
Perceived reality is the greatest liar ever to be and for the few that see reality as it is, that fleeting glimpse, they are ever changed and can not suffer the egocentric dance of self-delusion.Jeremy D. Breauxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06533189751106820051noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2783009534364842346.post-24375008127274794262011-02-17T16:08:00.000-06:002013-12-19T10:39:05.878-06:00What I learned from my fatherHere is a nugget I found from the past. It was written a few years ago and is unfininshed but I felt I should post the original up as it stands on it's own with out the closing. Enjoy!<br />
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At the age of eleven I started working summers with my father. Mostly I scrubbed mats, tires and washed cars but it was work and I was paid for it like any other laborer. It was the worst of times in South Louisiana and this was the bottom for the economy. That environment would shape who I would become decades later but more so It would shape the man my father would become to me. Every morning my father woke up very early, made his coffee and sat down to read his bible and promise book then pray. One morning I awoke to hear his low crying, something was different. His prayer that day will always stick with me: “Lord, If I am going down, I’m going down on your word”. I was never the same after that day. God did arrive, at the last second in a way no one would have dreamt. A phone call from my Uncle, His brother, with the long term answer to his problem. I do not have a problem with believing God can rescue me. I have seen first hand what God can do and My father was willing to hold on when all seemed lost. It took many years to dig his way out but God is faithful and the family made it.<br />
<br />
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Lesson 1: Never let go of God, ever.<br />
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Around the age of 12 to 13 I had my loss of mental cohesion phase, AKA Stupid. I got into trouble twice in a few month period and my father dealt with it differently the second time than he did the first time. For six months I managed to weave a story of why I never had homework. It was a good story, very believable. All lies. The most important rule of lying is to never let the people you are lying about ever speak to the people who you are lying to. This is Paramount, failure to do this will result in pain. Trust me on this one. My teacher, tired of me never having my homework decided to drag me to the office and call my parents. My father picked up the phone and my life as a homework free biped with the ability to walk without a limp was over. My poor teacher tried to smooth it over but she had opened Pandora’s box and all types of evil were about to ensue amongst my rear end and anything that got in the way. I know what inmates being walked to the electric chair feel like. That was the longest walk from the bus stop of my life. There is a difference between a beating and a spanking. Spanking involves metered swats and explaining to the child what he did wrong. It is kind of like having tea with a side of stinking backside. Beatings involve the child fully knowing what they did was wrong and the wrath of Daddy is about to be poured out. More of a angel open the scroll, water turns to blood and you are praying for the rapture or death to come now. The rapture did not occur. Death did not embrace me for the fear of getting hit with that belt. THE BELT. A steel belt from a tire wrapped in leather from an ancient brahma bull that was harvested at the full moon on the 3rd day. Indestructible justice. I paid the price for my sins that day and I deserved it and more but he had to go back outside and finish working. <br />
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Lesson 2: Be careful what you plant because the harvest you get may not be what you wanted. <br />
<br />
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The second Time I got in trouble involved the Police. I knew I was not going to be found when he was done. My Mother came and got me from the Police station because I assumed he didn’t want any witnesses for this slaughter that was to be the end of my short life. I got out the car and walked towards the house but He looked up and I caught the look in his eyes. It wasn’t anger or rage. It was total disappointment. I wish he would have beat me ten times for what I did that day. He never spoke of it to me but the look in his eyes broke the stupidity off my life. I had hurt him so deeply and It had never occurred to me that I was hurting him. Deep down I still think that beating is coming. He just hasn’t found a belt with sharp enough spikes yet. <br />
<br />
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Lesson 3: There are things worse than physical pain. <br />
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These are the three principles that laid the foundation for the real lessons in my life. <br />
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.Jeremy D. Breauxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06533189751106820051noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2783009534364842346.post-46744015486289813532011-02-02T12:31:00.000-06:002011-02-02T12:31:12.220-06:00Heavy Heart.<br />
<br />
Heavy heart and bristled mind, I fear we may be short on time. <br />
<br />
<br />
I saw the end and you were there but missed the mark with lack of care.<br />
<br />
This warning gave I to you did twice before this world puts you on ice.<br />
<br />
But time is still here and change you may, Before the end of this dark day.<br />
<br />
And if you heed this cryptic lyric, there will be no need in life to fear it. <br />
<br />
.Jeremy D. Breauxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06533189751106820051noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2783009534364842346.post-10141869201342385372011-02-01T09:19:00.002-06:002011-02-01T09:19:43.516-06:00Need to WriteI guess it is time to start writing again. Cycles I guess. My latest subject has been real vs percieved reality and the dance we do between the two. We all twist reality to fit our wants. At some point the two must be rectified and when that happens it is a violent ordeal. Every action has a reaction and sometimes the reaction is delayed so that we get groups of reactions in close succesion at a later time. These are the times we feel that the world is attacking us. I call that time for me ages 5 through 36. Jeremy D. Breauxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06533189751106820051noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2783009534364842346.post-49245081459788785552010-12-15T09:20:00.000-06:002013-12-19T10:38:20.942-06:00Mankind is a diseaseAfter the events of the last few days I have come to the conclusion that mankind needs to be eradicated. Press the button and make it all stop. I am tired of the stupidity.Jeremy D. Breauxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06533189751106820051noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2783009534364842346.post-34488820765300599532010-11-30T08:54:00.001-06:002010-11-30T09:06:25.005-06:00Book Review: The Bride CollectorAs with most of Dekkers other crime works it leans toward the dark and mentally insane. Having read many of those works I have to say this work is stronger than most of his earlier. The characters are better fleshed out and the storyline is linear. Also I found myself identifying with both the hero and the antagonist. The fact that both of them were deeply screwed up people does not show me in a good light. Final verdict: Get this book, good read, good story.Jeremy D. Breauxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06533189751106820051noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2783009534364842346.post-5412335743687613942010-11-30T08:47:00.001-06:002010-11-30T08:48:04.953-06:00Movie Review: FasterI will keep this short. While the movie was enjoyable from a visceral aspect, it was the same story retold. Person A gets royally screwed by persons B-L. Person A gets cool weapons and kills persons B through L. Kill Bill did it well and this is a poor shadow of that story. My advice is to skip Faster and rent Kill Bill parts 1 and 2.Jeremy D. Breauxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06533189751106820051noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2783009534364842346.post-16740443837657406922010-06-25T00:01:00.002-05:002010-06-25T00:01:21.509-05:00FesteringI see you festering<br />
<br />
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Festering with remorse and worry<br />
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Worrying about your image<br />
<br />
Imagining yourself to be better than you are.<br />
<br />
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You have become a sore<br />
<br />
Sore to everyone around you<br />
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You see the truth and it you reject <br />
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Rejection has become your security blanket<br />
<br />
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You are not ready for the whole truth<br />
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Truthfully morning your losses<br />
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Losing your sanity in a wave of grief<br />
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Grieving those who wish to help you leave this horrid place.<br />
<br />
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Come out and join us<br />
<br />
Using the God given talents to uplift<br />
<br />
Uplifting your spirit by lifting those around you<br />
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Your time is now, Stop Festering.Jeremy D. Breauxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06533189751106820051noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2783009534364842346.post-57537067975074157802010-06-25T00:00:00.000-05:002010-06-25T00:00:18.663-05:00Bitter lies (Expansion of Cold Killer)No lie is quite so bitter as the lie your friend believes. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Yet, I stand and watch as those who proclaim the truth, fall to lies and evil. We pretend and those around believe your little play...but I am here, waiting, watching. No lie is quite so bitter as the lie that births treachery in the heart of my friends. For that, The Cold Killer awaits you in your deepest dreams. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
This war has been on the horizon for years and I tried to warn you. Why do you choose to ignore wisdom? Do you see yourself as intelligent? You are not. You are just another sickly goat in sheep’s clothing. I reach for you to help and change your evil nature. You pull away and proclaim your understanding and intelligence. But when the poison worked its way you lashed out and hurt everyone around you. Are you so blind? Yes. But we are all blind, seeing what we can see and ignoring the blight in our own souls. The sight to see that you are blind is the beginning to killing the treacheries in you, for that imp will die and if you fail to separate it from you your fates will be joined. For there is only one price for treachery, Death, but not as you suppose. <br />
<br />
<br />
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Can you hear it? It comes and hunts for you with its ever present stalking. What is it?<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
A poison that kills<br />
<br />
With no remorse<br />
<br />
It destroys all that stands<br />
<br />
And mocks you as it passes by<br />
<br />
In horror you watch <br />
<br />
As your house of cards<br />
<br />
Does come crumbling down<br />
<br />
Revealing for all to see<br />
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The weakness of your master design<br />
<br />
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It kills your hopes<br />
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Your dreams<br />
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Your reality<br />
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It rips and rents you<br />
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Shredding <br />
<br />
Tearing<br />
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Murderous rage in its lone eye<br />
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Bloodlust consuming it<br />
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It is the most feared beast in all the world<br />
<br />
The most lethal venom dripping off its glistening fangs<br />
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Truth is its name<br />
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And a world of pain is the reward for your liesJeremy D. Breauxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06533189751106820051noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2783009534364842346.post-47758220302185896402010-05-28T16:07:00.000-05:002010-05-28T16:07:39.336-05:00Comfort In a waferI sit at my party of one<br />
<br />
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Basking in the glow of my self loathing<br />
<br />
Seeking comfort<br />
<br />
You are there <br />
<br />
Waiting in our secret place<br />
<br />
The high place<br />
<br />
You invite a friend to come with you<br />
<br />
I go pick you up for our private party<br />
<br />
We enter my room and I can’t wait to get to you<br />
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Your insides call me to lick you out<br />
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You are my Peanut butter wafer and cold glass of milk<br />
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My comfort in a wafer.Jeremy D. Breauxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06533189751106820051noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2783009534364842346.post-61801837011800628162010-05-19T16:06:00.000-05:002010-05-19T16:06:17.175-05:00The Valley (Single post)<strong><em><span style="font-size: large;">Railing</span></em></strong><br />
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I stand at the valley staring into the darkness, railing against the inevitable. I was the first of many, but the last of few. One to bring....one to take. One to destroy, one to restore. One, Two, or Four? The question has been made, who dares answer? <br />
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Love or hate...predestined fate? <br />
<br />
Or self guided ship in sea of grief?<br />
<br />
The question has been made, who dares answer? <br />
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<strong><em><span style="font-size: large;">The Intolerable</span></em></strong><br />
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I over look the Valley, It has become so familiar to me and I know not what is to be done.<br />
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I hear your beguiling sneers, your words of death, to kill me, to rent me as cloth.<br />
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I cry in my quite places<br />
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To never be brought to light<br />
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I see a distant light <br />
<br />
Fading or growing<br />
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The darkness comes over me<br />
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I see no light<br />
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Only pain<br />
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The comfort of that which I know<br />
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The betrayal of that which has always been there<br />
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To slay it<br />
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To stay it<br />
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From killing my soul<br />
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Light again<br />
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Only to reveal my tears, my pain?<br />
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Oh Lord where is your power? <br />
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Where is my conviction?<br />
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I need not of darkness<br />
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Be it banished<br />
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Yet not is this to be?<br />
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Darkness and pain<br />
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The words come back and rip into my heart……………..YOU ARE NOT AS WE<br />
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So you distance that which is different,<br />
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Better?<br />
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Stronger?<br />
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I do not threaten you?? Do I?<br />
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I see what cannot be seen.<br />
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Know what cannot be known.<br />
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I am what cannot be; yet here I stand.<br />
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Accused, abused, confused, and diffused.<br />
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I understand, which is my crime,<br />
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But in understanding am I confused as to why.<br />
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They are coming<br />
<br />
They want to destroy all that is me<br />
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HE CAN NOT BE TOLERATED<br />
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I wish to know not <br />
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To see not<br />
<br />
To be not<br />
<br />
My prayers fall to the ground as empty<br />
<br />
They are here<br />
<br />
Lord save me<br />
<br />
They thrust their accusations into me, piercing me<br />
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Blood flows from my wound<br />
<br />
They look upon me as the deserving of my fate<br />
<br />
More accusation and I am pierced again and again<br />
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Why?<br />
<br />
Help?<br />
<br />
Cold?<br />
<br />
I want to feel.<br />
<br />
To live<br />
<br />
To be among the living, the normal, the accusers<br />
<br />
Am I one of they?<br />
<br />
Et to?<br />
<br />
My soul grows cold<br />
<br />
The words have done what is to be done<br />
<br />
Darkness comes over me, cold, dieing, HELP.<br />
<br />
I know again, in this dieing time, that my weakness is caring<br />
<br />
Feeling what should be left unfelt<br />
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Helping what should be unhelped<br />
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In this time, I chose to die<br />
<br />
Die a death of pain and murder at the hands of all I care for and of<br />
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Die a death of feeling and knowing.<br />
<br />
Rather than live a life of ignorance and cold.<br />
<br />
So I look into the eyes of my accusers, my murderers and shed my last tear <br />
<br />
For they<br />
<br />
My last breath saying it is OK<br />
<br />
Et to?<br />
<br />
<br />
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The valley, the valley, my blood spills into the valley, into the darkness once again.<br />
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<strong><em><span style="font-size: large;">The Recendence</span></em></strong><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Blood stained ground<br />
<br />
Valley of bones<br />
<br />
Blood does feed it<br />
<br />
Life reborn<br />
<br />
They have left<br />
<br />
Having done their deeds<br />
<br />
To kill is for safely<br />
<br />
To live is for fear<br />
<br />
They came to take life<br />
<br />
Take joy<br />
<br />
Take skill<br />
<br />
Instead they brought doom<br />
<br />
To the heads of all they lay dear<br />
<br />
For in the moment when vicious tear flesh<br />
<br />
They see not it is<br />
<br />
Of themselves they do kill<br />
<br />
In my death they died<br />
<br />
In their life I live<br />
<br />
And again I ask the question<br />
<br />
Do I threaten you? Surely I do not.<br />
<br />
Malficient heap of mangled dumb<br />
<br />
Speech of commons and slowness of tongue<br />
<br />
Walk of simple<br />
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Run of the weak<br />
<br />
How can this be?<br />
<br />
This man of such weakness<br />
<br />
Yet again<br />
<br />
Here I am<br />
<br />
Clumsily banging at the keys of this box<br />
<br />
Begging for God to come and to change me<br />
<br />
His message the same<br />
<br />
I made you<br />
<br />
It is you<br />
<br />
All I wanted was to be loved and accepted<br />
<br />
All I could do was to mumble and be spastic<br />
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Can I threaten you?<br />
<br />
Surely not!<br />
<br />
I have died a thousand times<br />
<br />
A thousand ways<br />
<br />
Each time<br />
<br />
A little part of me<br />
<br />
Not returning to life<br />
<br />
A little part, will it be your part, dieing every day<br />
<br />
So I stand up<br />
<br />
Pulling the accusations out of me<br />
<br />
Reliving the pain of being murdered one more time<br />
<br />
Watching as my blood<br />
<br />
Gives life to the dry bones of fear and ignorance<br />
<br />
Hopefully giving them the life I lost<br />
<br />
So that one-day they too can walk<br />
<br />
No longer being the dry bones of fear<br />
<br />
But the beast of security and knowledge<br />
<br />
The pain is so real<br />
<br />
So strong<br />
<br />
So irrelevant<br />
<br />
So I chose to put it away from me, as it never happened<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
I look out over a blood stained valley<br />
<br />
Unsure what happened here<br />
<br />
They are walking away in the distance<br />
<br />
I must run and catch they<br />
<br />
They might like my company with them.<br />
<br />
For surely<br />
<br />
Man as I am<br />
<br />
I do not threaten them.<br />
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Original work by:<br />
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Jeremy D. BreauxJeremy D. Breauxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06533189751106820051noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2783009534364842346.post-75222243311180386602010-05-16T22:07:00.000-05:002010-05-16T22:07:37.160-05:00The RecendenceBlood stained ground<br />
<br />
<br />
Valley of bones<br />
<br />
Blood does feed it<br />
<br />
Life reborn<br />
<br />
They have left<br />
<br />
Having done their deeds<br />
<br />
To kill is for safely<br />
<br />
To live is for fear<br />
<br />
They came to take life<br />
<br />
Take joy<br />
<br />
Take skill<br />
<br />
Instead they brought doom<br />
<br />
To the heads of all they lay dear<br />
<br />
For in the moment when vicious tear flesh<br />
<br />
They see not it is<br />
<br />
Of themselves they do kill<br />
<br />
In my death they died<br />
<br />
In their life I live<br />
<br />
And again I ask the question<br />
<br />
Do I threaten you? Surely I do not.<br />
<br />
Malficient heap of mangled dumb<br />
<br />
Speech of commons and slowness of tongue<br />
<br />
Walk of simple<br />
<br />
Run of the weak<br />
<br />
How can this be?<br />
<br />
This man of such weakness<br />
<br />
Yet again<br />
<br />
Here I am<br />
<br />
Clumsily banging at the keys of this box<br />
<br />
Begging for God to come and to change me<br />
<br />
His message the same<br />
<br />
I made you<br />
<br />
It is you<br />
<br />
All I wanted was to be loved and accepted<br />
<br />
All I could do was to mumble and be spastic<br />
<br />
Can I threaten you?<br />
<br />
Surely not!<br />
<br />
I have died a thousand times<br />
<br />
A thousand ways<br />
<br />
Each time<br />
<br />
A little part of me<br />
<br />
Not returning to life<br />
<br />
A little part, will it be your part, dieing every day<br />
<br />
So I stand up<br />
<br />
Pulling the accusations out of me<br />
<br />
Reliving the pain of being murdered one more time<br />
<br />
Watching as my blood<br />
<br />
Gives life to the dry bones of fear and ignorance<br />
<br />
Hopefully giving them the life I lost<br />
<br />
So that one-day they too can walk<br />
<br />
No longer being the dry bones of fear<br />
<br />
But the beast of security and knowledge<br />
<br />
The pain is so real<br />
<br />
So strong<br />
<br />
So irrelevant<br />
<br />
So I chose to put it away from me, as it never happened<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
I look out over a blood stained valley<br />
<br />
Unsure what happened here<br />
<br />
They are walking away in the distance<br />
<br />
I must run and catch they<br />
<br />
They might like my company with them.<br />
<br />
For surely<br />
<br />
Man as I am<br />
<br />
I do not threaten them.Jeremy D. Breauxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06533189751106820051noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2783009534364842346.post-9506258572705713602010-05-11T19:39:00.000-05:002010-05-11T19:39:25.651-05:00The IntolerableI over look the Valley, It has become so familiar to me and I know not what is to be done.<br />
<br />
I hear your beguiling sneers, your words of death, to kill me, to rent me as cloth.<br />
<br />
I cry in my quite places<br />
<br />
To never be brought to light<br />
<br />
I see a distant light <br />
<br />
Fading or growing<br />
<br />
The darkness comes over me<br />
<br />
I see no light<br />
<br />
Only pain<br />
<br />
The comfort of that which I know<br />
<br />
The betrayal of that which has always been there<br />
<br />
To slay it<br />
<br />
To stay it<br />
<br />
From killing my soul<br />
<br />
Light again<br />
<br />
Only to reveal my tears, my pain?<br />
<br />
Oh Lord where is your power? <br />
<br />
Where is my conviction?<br />
<br />
I need not of darkness<br />
<br />
Be it banished<br />
<br />
Yet not is this to be?<br />
<br />
Darkness and pain<br />
<br />
The words come back and rip into my heart……………..YOU ARE NOT AS WE<br />
<br />
So you distance that which is different,<br />
<br />
Better?<br />
<br />
Stronger?<br />
<br />
I do not threaten you?? Do I?<br />
<br />
I see what cannot be seen.<br />
<br />
Know what cannot be known.<br />
<br />
I am what cannot be; yet here I stand.<br />
<br />
Accused, abused, confused, and diffused.<br />
<br />
I understand, which is my crime,<br />
<br />
But in understanding am I confused as to why.<br />
<br />
They are coming<br />
<br />
They want to destroy all that is me<br />
<br />
HE CAN NOT BE TOLERATED<br />
<br />
I wish to know not <br />
<br />
To see not<br />
<br />
To be not<br />
<br />
My prayers fall to the ground as empty<br />
<br />
They are here<br />
<br />
Lord save me<br />
<br />
They thrust their accusations into me, piercing me<br />
<br />
Blood flows from my wounds<br />
<br />
They look upon me as the deserving of my fate<br />
<br />
More accusation and I am pierced again and again<br />
<br />
Why?<br />
<br />
Help?<br />
<br />
Cold?<br />
<br />
I want to feel.<br />
<br />
To live<br />
<br />
To be among the living, the normal, the accusers<br />
<br />
Am I one of they?<br />
<br />
Et to?<br />
<br />
My soul grows cold<br />
<br />
The words have done what is to be done<br />
<br />
Darkness comes over me, cold, dieing, HELP.<br />
<br />
I know again, in this dieing time, that my weakness is caring<br />
<br />
Feeling what should be left unfelt<br />
<br />
Helping what should be unhelped<br />
<br />
In this time, I chose to die<br />
<br />
Die a death of pain and murder at the hands of all I care for and of<br />
<br />
Die a death of feeling and knowing.<br />
<br />
Rather than live a life of ignorance and cold.<br />
<br />
So I look into the eyes of my accusers, my murderers and shed my last tear <br />
<br />
For they<br />
<br />
My last breath saying it is OK<br />
<br />
Et to?<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
The valley, the valley, my blood spills into the valley, into the darkness once again.Jeremy D. Breauxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06533189751106820051noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2783009534364842346.post-50333944906961057242010-05-06T22:41:00.002-05:002010-05-06T22:41:15.134-05:00Railing (Valley 1).<br />
<br />
Railing<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
I stand at the valley staring into the darkness, railing against the inevitable. I was the first of many, but the last of few. One to bring....one to take. One to destroy, one to restore. One, Two, or Four? The question has been made, who dares answer? <br />
<br />
Love or hate...predestined fate? <br />
<br />
Or self guided ship in sea of grief?<br />
<br />
The question has been made, who dares answer? <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
.Jeremy D. Breauxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06533189751106820051noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2783009534364842346.post-11830229501780109952010-05-06T22:38:00.000-05:002010-05-06T22:38:21.314-05:00And now for the feature presentation!After my week in Disney World and then being the victim of an "Ethnic Cleansing" I feel the need to release the Valley trilogy into the wild. I will release each part one at a time then post the whole thing up as a whole after I post the last part. Stay tuned and lock up all your sharp objects. Jeremy D. Breauxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06533189751106820051noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2783009534364842346.post-67748568060016590302010-04-18T20:59:00.000-05:002010-04-18T20:59:49.163-05:00Not Today.<br />
The sun will shine and the stars will twinkle<br />
<br />
<br />
Your tears will dry and your heart will not hurt<br />
<br />
You will smile and know real joy<br />
<br />
Your arms will be full and your loss will not burn<br />
<br />
The world will spin as it should be<br />
<br />
Life will go on and your wounds will heal<br />
<br />
Just not today<br />
<br />
Today the sky will be dark and your pillow will stay wet<br />
<br />
Your chest will burn and you will see no way to ever smile<br />
<br />
The emptiness of your loss will seem unquenchable while your wounds threaten to consume you.<br />
<br />
You will shout out to heaven and your ears will ring of brass<br />
<br />
But there is tomorrow and if not, there will be tomorrows tomorrow.<br />
<br />
And there the Son will shine again <br />
<br />
For we look through a glass darkly and this life is but evanescence.<br />
<br />
.Jeremy D. Breauxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06533189751106820051noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2783009534364842346.post-60434870854264440132010-04-18T20:38:00.001-05:002010-04-18T21:29:17.319-05:00ThousandI have seen a thousand people with a thousand excuses. They scream a thousand curses at a thousand problems. Thousands of thousands doing thousands of things. But here I stand, I have seen a thousand people die, a thousand ways. I am but one of many, the last of the few. A chosen bringer, of lifeless food. A wise purveyor of empty promise. A powerful destroyer in a barren land. They call me evil. They call me good. But none of them sees the life that should. No matter what I say or do, they can not see past the outer fool. A fool that dances with merry glee. A fool that tries to be and see. Inner beast of turmoil and rage. Fighting off the lifeless stage. Bringing life and selling death. Running from the awful debt. Of past transgressions and pointless folly. I chose to see life in vivid color. And in that vision is fading light. I run in anger towards fading light, do not leave me I will not fight. In growing darkness I see no color. And again in color is no color found.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
I watch as thousands pass, unaware of the awful power that I have held. To twist a world and alter minds. But I seek truth and I seek life. And they call me evil for shedding light. They call me good for killing times. They call me evil for spreading truth. The call me good for destroying the you. They beg for more, blood letting and gore. They want no part of building who you are. I watch as thousands pass me by. Self diluted in lies. Self diluted in cries. And I am the very person who they can not stand, a hunter of ignorance, a bringer of truth. So they will be, diluted in their lies, and death will come not to body, but mind. And I will weep for people who are lost. The ThousandsJeremy D. Breauxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06533189751106820051noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2783009534364842346.post-13373152507645416352010-04-15T23:11:00.002-05:002010-04-15T23:11:27.571-05:00Bad weekIt has been a bad week all around. I have 2 updates pending, one of which is a very funny poem my son wrote. Stay tuned. Jeremy D. Breauxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06533189751106820051noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2783009534364842346.post-39345831232420234352010-04-10T23:01:00.000-05:002010-04-10T23:01:56.786-05:00Frost Bite.<br />
<br />
CRUNCH<br />
<br />
<br />
The ice and snow crackle under my feet.<br />
<br />
I trudge through on my journey to seek, to find.<br />
<br />
Lost time and lost love.<br />
<br />
The mountain looms above,<br />
<br />
Casting it’s dark shadow<br />
<br />
It’s condemnation for coming to this place.<br />
<br />
I turn into the wind to go deeper.<br />
<br />
The bite of the cold and snow goes deep<br />
<br />
Into the deepest reaches of my soul.<br />
<br />
Bringing regret for coming to this place.<br />
<br />
I’ve waited too long<br />
<br />
To come and retrieve<br />
<br />
That which was stolen<br />
<br />
Slowly<br />
<br />
Stolen<br />
<br />
And I let it slip<br />
<br />
In arrogance<br />
<br />
Thinking I had time to run and catch you before you slipped too far.<br />
<br />
And here I stand at the foot of this mountain<br />
<br />
Looking for you<br />
<br />
The true you<br />
<br />
Alone<br />
<br />
Cold<br />
<br />
Frightened<br />
<br />
Praying that it isn’t too late<br />
<br />
To rescue you from the demons of me<br />
<br />
Lurking in the darkness<br />
<br />
Stealing the warmth from your soul<br />
<br />
One degree at a time<br />
<br />
So I will climb to the highest precipice<br />
<br />
Endure the strongest winds<br />
<br />
To slay the demons and return you from this forsaken land<br />
<br />
And back into my arms.<br />
<br />
Or I will die racing to rescue you from this dark land<br />
<br />
Now I set my course, through the shadows of doubt and cynicism<br />
<br />
To climb the mountain of hurts I have given you<br />
<br />
Scale the cliffs of hatred<br />
<br />
I will endure this cold<br />
<br />
This winter<br />
<br />
Chills me to the bone<br />
<br />
I can not remember what true feeling is anymore<br />
<br />
Numbness has consumed me<br />
<br />
But I trudge on<br />
<br />
My only hope<br />
<br />
To find the you I lost<br />
<br />
And restore it<br />
<br />
Or maybe it is the me I lost <br />
<br />
I look into your face<br />
<br />
In mid August<br />
<br />
As the winter in your eyes chills me to the soul.<br />
<br />
I feel everything dieing around me<br />
<br />
And I cry out to God to save me<br />
<br />
From everything I have become<br />
<br />
And everything I have made you<br />
<br />
Lord forgive me<br />
<br />
For I know not what I have done.<br />
<br />
<br />
.Jeremy D. Breauxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06533189751106820051noreply@blogger.com2