I don't understand this concept, lets say you get mad and you shoot someone, and they die. And then I get mad ( in a totally unrelated incidence ) and I shoot someone and they survive. Shouldn't our punishment be the same, I mean if I intended to kill someone, and failed that doesn't make me a better person. The survival is an event that I had no control over. So even though our actions were the same, you'll be in prison long after me ( if they don't execute you of course).
I also don't understand the concept of "hate crime". Now any time the victim and the killer have a different race, or sexuality, or religious belief this Hate Crime crap is brought up. If some racist scumbag is going to kill someone, do you think, the hate crime bill is a deterrent. Hell no, not if murder one isn't. Murder is one of three things hate, passion or fear (sounds like dating). I just don't understand who there trying to please with this fluff. Here's an Idea for hate crime's, If you kill a black man, or a homosexual etc., you get placed in that section of the prison. Now that would be a deterrent. Or just poetic justice ( and most likely a shorter prison stay )

Missing Image ;(

Why don't people strive to be better more often ? Why isn't there a greater drive to learn new things? The ability to think on ones own seems to be missing. Stupidity is the norm.

Ignorance is bliss

Oh how it haunts me, am I to believe the source of my sadness is my intelligence. People reminisce when they see children, so naive, so full of wonder, and they think the difference is knowledge. The difference is indifference. A child asks how the phone, or TV, or Radio work. They ask because they want to know the answer, the real answer. Buts so many times the answer is "because it does." We don't know, we just stopped asking. I can honestly say that I don't know how a speaker works. i know there's copper wire and a magnet, but how It can duplicate two guitars, drums, a piano, and three people singing, that's beyond me right now.

That's why I feel doomed, we've all complicated our lives with so much useless crap, and everybody does there "thing", and believes "because it does" is good enough. IT'S NOT. Learn the answers find out why things work.

Now with the amount of useless crap that's out there that's a daunting task, but start with whats a part of your everyday life. Search for answers, all life is, is a series of questions, people just stopped asking. Ask "Why is Jack is a nickname for John ?" or "When I'm being "cocky" is that a poultry reference ?" or "Where did the word German ever come from, if they call themselves Doitch?" or even "Do they call somebody being killed a murder because they'd find a lot of crows around the dead body, or is a group of crows a murder because they're scavengers and would feed on a dead body ?" Don't just accept anything, know something.

Life and all it's mystery,
unfold before my eyes.
All the twists and turns,
are really no surprise.
The sun will rise and rise again,
the moon will wax and wane.
And I'll have smiles and laughter,
to help me through my pain.

So what, I hear voices, I'm sure we all do. I bet doctors ( or whoever) would say it's just our brains winding down for a good nights sleep. I hear little two word, partial sentences, different recognisable voices, but I can never put my finger on them. It's I'm in a trance, not asleep and not awake. The voices are like little audio memories of something I can't remember. Like being outside someones door, something catches my ear and creates an indescribable picture in my brain, then gone.

I've always had them, there's even a voice that scares me a little. I figure It's from my childhood, because it's been bothering me for the last ten years. And not just while sleeping, there's a trigger in my brain, whenever there's a loud bang, or any loud random noise I hear it, like an echo. I know I hear it but the words never form, and the voice is one note short for me to " name that tune". It chills me, changes my breathing, my little demon. Reducing me to a scared child.

I wonder if our past is really behind us, because sometimes it stares us right in the face, like a rear-view mirror.