When I lay down my arms...
 

... ,dry sarcasm, and passionate emotional outbursts fraught with hormonal logics.

Who will take up the cause and cleanse the holy land from the creeping crawl of cissexualism?

How will the honor and integrity of humankind be maintained if no one is alive to speak the truth, from the heart, and with a zeal and fervor that matches the basest of argument?

What will become of this land, torn by greed and lust for power, and memorialization, who wll stand against the need for security above all else? Who will speak for the dead? Who will dare to share their spirit freely so that others may feel the sting of life?

Is it time for the breath and voice of children dreamers to die quietly on the suns ionized wails at the empty bleak void? Will the spark of life fade until there is just cold bleak vacum bare stone staring up at nothingness?

What will become of this tainted sea of agony, if there is no one more who cares to feel it?

fuck off back to africa

Funny but I loved that episode that's almost exactly how I feel sometimes.

Can't wait for braindeath to release me to the cosmic background radiation.

And not a single word was read.

gif of picard in his prime saved this thread.

This is now a 420 blaze it thread


http://i.imgur.com/RDWrbzg.jpg