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One girl revolution

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One girl revolution

I wear a disguise
I’m just your average Jane
The super doesn’t stand for model
But that doesn’t mean I’m plain
If all you see is how I look
You miss the superchick within
And I christen you Titanic
Underestimate and swim
I’ve got the rifle
Gonna be myself

I’ll be everything that I want to be
I am confidence in insecurity
I am a voice yet waiting to be heard
I’ll shoot the shotgun bang!
That you hear around the world
I’m a one girl revolution

Some people see the revolution
But most only see the girl
I can lose my hard earned freedom
If my fear defines my world
I declare my independence from the critics and their stones
I can find my revolution
I can learn to stand alone

I’ll be everything that I want to be
I am confidence in insecurity
I am a voice yet waiting to be heard
I’ll shoot the shotgun bang!
That you hear around the world
I’m a one girl revolution


I seriously know what is right now.
I can't think about the past.
Future events I have no clue what is in
for the future, hanging on second by second,
minute by minute to hours moving to
days and months then years ......

I can only deal with the Present at hand in a serene and balanced way accepting what is and what will be.

Grasping at positive beliefs
Alone in the battle,
i need to win this
if i can, on my own

Wild Flower

Wild Flower

A flower, in its delicate beauty holds the wonder of nature and the fragility of life in its tiny petals. But what is the beauty of the flower? Is it the lush beauty of the carefully cultivated flower garden? Such flowers are not real. Their lives are controlled and directed for the beauty of a single glance, and the entire worth of such a flower is measured in that glance - there’s nothing beneath, nothing to discover, and nothing to contemplate. The cultivated garden is nothing.

What then of the hothouse rose, whose very existence is threatened by the slightest change? No, such is not the beauty of life. There is no future in such a flower - again, there is only the crushing realization that beyond the hothouse lies nothing but crumpled petals. Nothing beneath, nothing to discover, nothing to contemplate. The hothouse flower is nothing.

True beauty lies in the wild flower. Each is not perfect, each has not been bred to encompass a tired ideal of beauty that is shared only by the shallow. But the true beauty of the wild flower is in what makes it special.

The wild flower is a collection of individual pieces that form a whole so complete, so fulfilling, that once the realization is apparent, no comparisons are needed.

Take the stem of the flower. Curved by nature to a familiar shape, the stem of the wild flower, when examined carefully, shows life. Marred here and there, the delicate surface of the plant belies the inner strength that dwells underneath. Perfection is not here, nor would it be welcome. The pressures of life bend and shape the stem to it’s will, but it prevails, raising the plant above the common ground, holding its head high, proclaiming its strength - and that strength is prodigious. Without this incredible base of hidden strength, the flower would collapse.

The leaves, so easily overlooked, yet so vital that without them the plant would die - these leaves are the filters through which the world is perceived and through which strength is drawn. A plant must have a healthy outlook through these leaves to flourish. Perception is everything here. And once again, life has shaped the leaves. Through good and bad seasons, the leaves are constantly changed. They must retain some vital characteristics to be viable, but all else is malleable. Perfection is once again unavailable and unwanted.

call and answer

I think it's getting to the point
where I can be myself again...

I think it's getting to the point
where we have almost made amends...

I think it's the getting to the point
that is the hardest part...

And if you call, I will answer...
and if you fall, I'll pick you up...
and if you court this disaster...

I'll point you home...


Somewhere in my pain I forgot myself
Too busy with self-pity to think straight
I forgot that you were someone else
You were only a part of me

Now I see you standing tall on your own
With that brave smile upon your face
The years don't show behind your eyes
That freshness of being has not faded

Now I'm different I guess you'll see it
Miss Independant working on her own agenda
Taking each day as it comes and moving forward
But every now and then I'll stop and take a breath

Forgiveness doesn't come easily to me
Too many broken promises in my past for that to be
You saw me cry so many nights grieving for them
I don't want you to turn into yet another

Can't promise I can understand or want to know it all
But I'm here and I'm now to be known and felt
I hope my presence doesn't make you feel bad
Don't ever think of me as another rod for your back

We both know there's been times where we've been burned
But baby that's all in the past for us now
Although we're in different places right now
You know we're more alike than we knew before

Give me time to adjust to my new ways
It's not been easy for me to figure out who I am
I'm still finding out and I think you are too
Just remember I'm here and I'm now

There'll always be barriers and problems to face
But as people we're equipped to deal in our own way
Don't worry about me just think of me and smile
We're both gonna be fine and it'll be worth it all


Static hiss emit electronic haze
Encrypted program ethereal maze
Series of symbols represent
A new age of enslavement
On which we are intent
Born of minute chemical reaction adore
Wonders of science, a miracle no more
Unknowingly acting, pre-program inserted
Changing environment, changing machine
The organic embryonic cage is perverted
Unable to see, reality
That we are nothing but flesh machines
Reaction, enaction, a cold barren truth
From these prisons we've made we must break free
Or become confined for eternity
Government control disable unknown
Remove curiosity of what isnt shown
Conform design burnt in your mind
Preprogram thought, they take our souls
Procreate assimilate
Enslaved by the dominate
Humanoids ruled by these laws
Blinded from seeing our changed being
That we are nothing but flesh machines
Reaction, interaction, a cold barren truth
Lessons in servantile submission
we are confined for eternity
Docile dogs, brainwashed forever
They even control how we seek pleasure
Mobile programs commanded, no resistance
Collective machine, autonomous endeavor
This is your life, we give you enough
This is the way that you must seek love
Posion god machine control
I pray that our children will rise above
Conformed design
Preprogrammed enaction
Fit into the system, complete transaction
Brainwashed from birth
Warning: take heed
This is no vision, this is reality


Thoughts mean different things
Ideas are thoughts that spread their wings
Concepts are ideas that are treated like kings

Concepts are also understanding ‘what is’ and ‘will be’
Understanding is knowing that knowledge is free
Accepting is coming to terms with what you will never see

Knowing is belief that we are all one
Belief is faith that life is not done
Faith is hope that light has shone
Hope is trust in someone


Pretty soon it was my turn to speak
and i held up my hands,
waved my little white flag
in surrender.

they all sauntered past the truth
and made it look miniscule
and improper
while i stood at the platform
waiting for a sign to appear.

Sarcastically i am not angry,
while every slight slip of the tongue
is a revelation to the observer
i see more
than you give me credit for


floating on a sea,
far removed from everything
hold your breath
and deep dive
let it stretch out
beyond the blackness and oblivion
where the only sound comes
from the beating of your heart

to get where you are going
you have to let go
of the person you were
and the one you wanted to be
step out into the unknown
it is ok to be afraid

no one can tell you
how it is suppose to be
their experience is personal
not meant for you nor me
we can only learn by doing
and grow by making mistakes
so step out across the boundries
you erected to feel so safe

fold your hands child, you walk like a peasant

we went to see, we saw, we came back and reported on what we had seen.


Apr 27 2004 - 20:38 approx.


Intercepted text based communication…

:::At the point transmission interception begins the participants have been talking for some time:::

A says:
I was just going to check out now... anywhere I should look particularly carefully at?
D says:
Hmm, be particularly careful around Xoltron
A says:
A says:
Is this an ARG?
D says:
You might want ask Un-fiction about that
A says:
I think I'll call it an ARG 'til I find a better name for it
D says:
Very Sensible
A says:
Everything on the page seems very fragmented... is there anything connecting the G-mail to Xoltron, for example?
D says:
I'm being watched
A says:
By who?
D says:
D says:
He sent me this in a pm

"I'm watching you.

And I'm very impressed.

Drink up, D. Drink up..."
A says:
Could you tell me something about the Teleport experiment?
D says:
I don’t know too much about it, but I have assurances it works
A says:
I don't get this teleport thing
A says:
What is it about?
D says:
I'm pretty sure the symbols are an actual teleportation device
A says:
A says:
Why do you think that?
D says:
I don’t have one so it’s hard to be sure
A says:
I'm finding it really hard to navigate through the website....
A says:
I don't know wha###reboot##
//transmission corrupted…//signal lost…//rescanning.........//
    1. connection restored##D says:
It's not over yet
A says:
Who is this David?
D says:
David Xoltron, he's a scientist from P'tar 7
A says:
D says:
I have this
D says:
It was transmitted to me via the journal

Transfer of "unknown.mp3" is complete.

A says:
It's quite obviously someone speaking...
A says:
Wish I could remove the interference, though
A says:
Have you tried to filter it out?
D says:
I'm not sure what to do with it
A says:
It's made with purpose.... too regular to be coincidence
D says:
You think? I did wonder if the voice was a distraction

abandon all hope

ye who enter here...

Aint it grand and amazing :)

How grand and amazing and wonderful it is to not get what you expect and not be disappointed.

To be able to accept and enjoy propositions or politely decline them. The inexplicable joy of discovering the worth of your decisions. And how precious you really are.

How it feels to genuinely hurt. To love. To learn. To share. And to grow. And eventually accept life graciously and with an unshakeable faith no matter what it throws at you.

How grand to expect nothing and gain... And consider it all a gift, a lesson, an unspoken bonus. And immediately realize it was much needed.

How grand to find things when they weren't being sought...To be faithful . And open. And willing. And true. And finally, finally free.


as much for you, as for me, there is hope
can you see
when i'm down, and i'm scared, there is hope
friends there
people come, people go, people shout
people moan
my benefit, not just yours, there is hope
in hearts
of woman, of man, of friends
of ones
who care, who share, who are open
don't despair


So you sit there by a dim light
Reflecting on things past
Forgetting that the future has more instore for you

I will always stand beside you
Never in front of you to clear your path
Never behind you to pick up the pieces

Your struggles you go through
Are one of your own
Not mine, and you rather have it that way
But I will advise you
Not help you like the rest

Your passions and life’s quest
Can only be one of your own
I understand more clearly
Maybe more then you ever know

I have no desire to daunt over you like the rest
I have no cravings to seek what they search for
In your eyes
I know more then you thought, been through more
Then you will ever know

This quest this passion of life
Is all your own

I am only here to stand beside you.

remembering a loved one from years ago

I met someone very special at the weekend, someone I hadn't seen in years. He was a very good friend to me and it inspired me

I still remember it well
My friend
Curled up in your arms
Snug, and safe from harm
Your friends all asleep
While you told me stories of what I could be
My friend
Only me and you and the log fire's heat
And a sleeping bag to cover our feet
That magical moment
We saw the dust glitter through the streaky windows
My friend
When it seemed nothing could ever go wrong
That was the first time that I heard The Song
The music brought such clarity
Without reason it moved me to break free
My friend
I think that's when I realised I loved you
Even still now, I care, although I hardly see you
I still remember that dusty morning
Cotton-ball fluff on the floor as we danced
My friend
The sleepy atmosphere of a party well done
Back in those days when we used to have fun
I hardly knew you at all
You hardly knew me, but what I was to become my friend
My friend
The shining star set alight in the sky
But when you played that Song it felt so good
I felt I was somewhere being as I should
I still listen to The Song
My friend
When I hear it I think of you and me
And smile at the way things used to be

That strange place between present and past

How many times I've been here
Wanting the good while I forget the bad
To forget the responsibility that comes with growth.
I remember the feeling of safety;

Head against my mother's heart,
When everything was not analysed to death,
When her heartbeat was all the explanation the world needed;

Before I knew what death was,
Before I knew what it was to be alone,
Before I knew what it was to be drunk;

When love could defeat all enemies,
When politics was a friend to my argument,
When the world obeyed my world view;

That strange place between present and past,
That world without sex and complication,
That world with only extremities;

The life I live;

Always subjected to my inner rule,
Always subjected to this judgement and this mind,
Which always wants more but always seems to get less;

Now it's gone.

That strange moment between place and happenstance;

Now I wonder if you know;

Why am I the last to know;


these people are in charge?

A deafening silence

MISS X suffered brutality and depravity at the hands of three sex-torturers in a two-month ordeal.

She was beaten, raped and starved. She is mentally impaired.
It did not happen on a sprawling, run-down city housing estate or grotty slum.
It happened in the small Borders village of Newtown St Boswells.
And it happened under what should have been the watchful eye and the protective hand of the local social work department.
The police investigation was swift and the prosecution decisive The judge's words of condemnation were harsh.
The sadistic actions of Robert Mercer, Alexander Maben and Ross Douglas were the likes of which he had never came across. Justice was ten years for Mercer and seven each for Maben and Douglas.
But more than two years after Miss X's horrific ordeal, the reasons why she was failed by the social work department of Scottish Borders Council remain under wraps.
There have been internal and external probes with promises of improvements.
But we still don't know who exactly failed the 30-year-old vulnerable woman who suffered as she should never have had to suffer.
We do not know what mistakes were made – so how can we believe in promised improvements?
The Social Work Services Inspectorate has compiled what should be a warts-and-all account of the failings. It has been seen by SBC who demanded changes be made for legal reasons.
A final re-vamped versions is with Holyrood. It's release date remains a mystery.
And why is local MSP and deputy minister, Euan Robson, being so cagey when pressed by TheSouthern? Why is Borderer Peter Peacock – Scotland's social work minister – holding back?
Why is SBC leader, David Parker, and social work frontsman, Councillor Sandy Scott – not pressing for its publication? Cllr Scott's sidekick, Carolyn Riddell-Carre, says she is unhappy at the delay – but she hasn't exactly been shouting from the rooftops.
All these whys. Why? – to protect those who should have been protecting?


Uploaded Image: 52114367.jpg

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