putting blood to shame

"So, it seems we're both drinking alone.... here's a picture of us that I painted. Now will you come home with me?"

2013 start.

The first class of 2013 went exceedingly well. This is one of those times where the door has opened and you can see down the corridor; only you choose to linger within the frame just to get a sense and smell of what lies ahead. I wonder if anything died ahead. Will there be any horrible smells? Will there be nice smells.
I couldn't decide which face to put on today. I put on at least three or four, I think, because my personality changed at least three or four times. I broke 3 rules and not necessarily inside or outside the classroom; nor inside or outside of this world or in fantasy. I was a bad girl. An "evil" girl, whatever that means. In some cultures, evil means good and good means evil. I think evil has a more enticing ring to it, somehow.

Our new lecturer is very sweet. She laughs a lot though.... and I'm not sure if I should reciprocate, or if I should be worried. Laughter (especially the higher-pitched and breathy variety) can be an indication of several emotions such as: nervousness, intimidation, awkwardness, cheerfulness, over-grown festivity, the habit to attempt ice breaking in awkward situations, a fumbling of topic choices...you see, plenty of things. I fear there are more but I'm no pessimist. I'm assuming she was somewhat nervous though; what, and I would be as well...with seven new and ugly faces staring back at me and relying on me to guide them over a series of rusty train tracks.
We all need oiling. It's been a long break... I will say however, that the writing exercises which are to be formulated at the start of each class are a great way to oil one's mind and especially in the midst of a learning environment. It's nice that a fair handful of us are familiar with each other already, having returned from last year. Today's class was short; but highly effective. It left a huge stain of inspiration on my olive coat.

lessons in meditation

i am the seductress who has long since lived right under
                                                                      her unnoticing glare

she is drawn to my power

I can have the dark queen now

she is drawn to my invisible tug

she tightens,
then releases those snakes around my throat

she comes closer

as close so I can hear her thoughts

she is deep in my lusts

quicksand

the harsh pull is mine now

the Dark Queen is mine now

she releases her breath

like wild and dark berries

and her power

it lightens around me ; around my ankles

she is against me now

but so with me


her powers are stronger than I thought

her smirk widens

loosens my tongue

I let out a shaky sigh

she reaches up

reaches towards me but I am

already against her

her magic hardens around me

she releases a rich laugh

and her words are more powerful than I have ever seen.

Wanna see my pussies? Yes, I have more than one.

...The other eight babies have gone AWOL.

Modernized: Subliminal Messaging, Irony and the Unnoticed

First off,

my definition of subliminal messaging: the silent manipulation of one's subconscious with the marketer's purpose of control towards the actions, thoughts and power over minds in general.
There are different types of these messages, which is why they're so dangerous towards the public and go unnoticed so frequently. We all know of the typical visual messages, such as the words 'SEX', 'FUCK', 'BLOOD', 'DEATH', etc appearing in several advertisements, movies, songs and plenty of society's pollen. There are even images/graphic types drawn in these manners, but altered so that on the surface they remain unnoticed. I figured one just the other day, on a game I played rather often in my childhood and recent days. Super Mario bros. 3 sports the word 'SEX' upwards diagonally, in grass format between the bricks of the underground levels. I need not point out that this embedded word appears in several Disney movies too, as well as sexual symbolism. They're dangerous because although sometimes we may not notice them at first, the subconscious will snatch it them up like a vulture at high speed and store it at the back of the mind, where it will influence and rot one's thoughts and emotions without their realizing. On a childhood level, it is considerably dangerous. Believe it or not, some these days have grown into the characteristics they were silently fed with throughout their lives.

Another symbol I noticed tonight: the frequent practice of focusing on the importance of appearance and what is considered attractive, rather than the general risks of the product being advertised or whatever media is being presented. Fortunately, there are some people in this world who believe that beauty lies beneath the skin and drifting in plentiful rivers of red around strong bone, but there are most who will oppose this idea by saying it's a "save" for an ugly person. Something else that remains shocking to me is that another message is embedded into this one alone. That image is: watch the main characters and drink in their influence on your own self esteem. Don't read this wrongly. I am NOT self conscious, or even depressed at all in this agenda. I just like to point out things that make others think for once. Here's an example:
An ad for a beauty product. Naturally, marketers will sport the cosmetic using attractive girls (who, without a doubt, look just as original as we do in reality) to model them, so that viewers somehow believe they will be equally as "sexy" or close if they buy it. Now let's pretend that the product itself has some sort of harmful chemical in it. If this product is used too much, the chemicals start to define your pores as wrinkles, the natural oils in your skin are washed away with makeup removal, and a high percentage of users obtain some sort of rash or skin irritation. Despite the original idea of wanting to improve their appearances, people will ignore these symptoms by slapping on equally harmful foundation to cover the blemishes and re-apply the original product. Feeling flawless, they're almost invincible in a sense and start to believe that physical attributes are more important than character and fact. Doesn't this seem a little ironic to you? Becoming more of what you consider ugly, for the price of temporary industrial beauty. And all of what you've paid goes to the marketers, who marvel at their cleverness in profit risings, manipulation and power over vulnerable minds. Those minds have been damaged by a chunk of society, so it's as if the generation being aimed at has been thrown into a pit of lions.

That's all I can say for the moment; I'm calling it a night. Take it into consideration, yeah? Even if you don't agree, at least remain open-minded.

Once Upon A Nail

Once upon a time,

   There was a man who lived alone; literally. His relatives had all passed away, but at least he had plenty of friends to compensate with. These friends believed this man was a kind, polite and responsible man and with that, his security grew significantly. After his eight killing, the man decided he was hungry. Bit by bit, he dismembered the body and cooked the cuttings separately in the oven at 280°C fan bake, occasionally basting the meat with the gravy he made from their blood and intestinal fluids. The other uncooked pieces, he stacked nearly on the bench next to him, wrapped firmly in tin foil. He gathered the remaining pink and yellow bones and placed them carefully in a tight-held plastic bag, ready to be cremated and destroyed forever. Then he tipped all the bodily fluids down the drain, squirting a large amount of bleach after it.
Once all the meat was cooked, he arranged all the pieces in separate seal bags. One third, he placed in the freezer. Another third he put in the fridge, and he ate the last third without any difficulty, leaning back in his beloved wooden chair and petting his stomach with satisfaction with the width of his stomach.
It took him exactly eight days to finish the teenage boy off, but upon polishing the very last plate he noticed a roll of fingers. He crammed three into his mouth, marveling at the succulency of the cooked flesh. With the forth finger, he tucked it into his pocket as he carried his plate to the kitchen.
He was overwhelmed with relief; for he had disposed of every piece of the boy's existence except the finger in his pocket, which nudged him teasingly through the fabric as he sauntered down the hallway. Once he reached the bathroom, he turned the shower onto a lukewarm jet and began stripping. He removed the finger from the pocket of his trousers and gnawed on it, as he stepped into the shower. He chewed all the flesh off around the bone, before swallowing the bone itself and flinching. The fingernail proved too irritating to try and chew, so he spat it down the drain of his shower, smiling as the soap suds followed.
That nail will be lost forever, he thought gleefully.
But it stuck on the way down, latching onto globs of shower grime. It stayed there, lurking and waiting in the dark until the police arrived eight days later.

...

life?
it is as it is
as it always has been in the ocean of hour

i am the black sheep
but without a shepherd ; and i will wander whatever
plains i want     to trample.

but graze upon no poison cotton lands ; product of white sheep flea
bite me ; for i will not return to herds of hell
my shepherd does not live,
 it breathes in death's frown
you frown upon sunshine, it seems
you can be anything
just as a nobody can slap labels on you
as if you are a jar of expired honey

but for now it seems i AM the shepherd
         and my black sheep shadow; forever following.

Just us.

afraid to be made, are you?

even you wouldn't be afraid to kill

no one would ;

if there were no law at will.



the issue is

getting you to admit it
after wake

however ; you remained submerged

quicksand lace and chain

trying on shoes that do not fit.



a wind changing

frozen in place to consider

that grace ; that flows

you imagine, from wounded satisfaction

words with cool scythe's 

blow to the heart -

beats faster and faster ;

therefore, icicles melt 

before you know what they're for ...
slipping names into files ; stretched at the seams
frayed at all corners

                      afraid to kill

    afraid to be made.

aDOOMinati - Part One

Occult conspirators against the Illuminati movement (which was founded in 1776 by Adam Weishaupt and believed to be a sex/Satan worshiping cult of manipulators slowly aiming for and working towards world domination) have detected, diluted and pointed out the characteristics, references, symbols, and the famous All-seeing Eye from several influential video games, movies and courses of literature that point towards and demonstrates clues of the secret organization and how it operates. Of course there are other mediums, but these are the main ones I hope to successfully point out.
The trouble is, is that it is believed that celebrities and 'false-idols' such as Obama, Beyonce, George Bush, Jay-Z, Chris Brown, Lady Gaga, Ke$ha, Miley Cyrus and a range of other popular artists are 'elite' Illuminati members themselves and hand-chosen (according to their current position over society and whether they are targeted by a larger audience) to be responsible for incorporating the sexual, morbid and satanic messages in mainstream media; therefore manipulating the young subconscious minds of our generation into following the hidden path to darkness. The darkness, they say, is the fate of the world in which Illuminati determined would come if their plan via subliminal messaging proved to be of success and they managed to take their place over the world. Of course by this, I mean subconsciously manipulating people to a point where they become brainwashed completely, unaware of certain signs and submitting themselves willingly to power. Personally, if you ask me, I am terrified. Absolutely. I'm paranoid enough as it is about the world and its hidden messages, and the fact that people don't take this seriously makes them an even more easy target. So far it's working. Subliminal messaging has existed for a very long time in advertising schemes, the entertainment industry and food marketing (quite often, unrelated sexual subjects and insinuations are used to draw the viewer in (since past subliminal messaging has adjusted the mind to become aware and alerted to sexual material) and their subconscious to the bigger picture -no pun intended).

Naturally, the euphemism behind 'Illuminati' is of a calming notion: "People claiming to possess special enlightenment or knowledge of something." My translation is: "A secret organization of morbid manipulators who claim that by obtaining the minds/souls of 'powerful' figures of society such as celebrities, presidents etc they are able to brainwash the general public into the darker lifestyle they believe would lead to world domination on their part."
It is in fact a dangerous movement; one that most don't take seriously, or tend to laugh at. Many will try to categorize the situation, labeling it a pointless conspiracy and a product of a delusional mindset. If you go and watch the music video: Ke$ha - Die Young, you'll see many fabricated symbols and indications pointing towards the Illuminati project.

Ke$ha is, in fact, a puppet to their fists; and in return, her fans to her own. In the music video, the following symbols are seen to be either flashing, looming in the background, engraved on the car or immersed in the plot/characterization of the video itself and the people involved:
-A skull and bones (said to be an indication of death and Satanic worship within the Illuminati community)
-An inverted crucifix flashes several times (an obvious symbol used frequently within the Church of Satan)
-The word 'EVIL' engraved in silver on the car door, lasting only two seconds before another scene begins.
-Ke$ha arrives in a hearse -which is another indication of death- and when the doors are opened, her body is twisted in a somewhat tortured and twisted manner. The gang members -who are dressed heavily in leather and generally mean-looking) are seen carrying her out and above their heads as though she is a queen not worthy of ground dust. I believe that this is an insinuation of Ke$ha's superiority. Since the song is called 'Die Young', it is an indication that we are all peasants unless focused and brainwashed Illuminati members ourselves. Ideally for them, we will all die with the ultimate impact of their cult upon the world. And she will rise above us, an elite member along with all the other celebrities who sold their souls to the Devil himself.
-Later on, during an unnecessary orgy between Ke$ha and a few girls (who are all predictably dressed in an overly sexual/body revealing manner) there is a pentacle seen looming in the background above Gaga's head in frosty neon light. Although this may very well be a reference to fit with the certain dress code of the video, it's also quite clear that this is yet another indication of the Satanic/witchcraft concept, since pentacle stars are used for ritual purposes within demon worship and the Satanic church to complete blood and life sacrifices.
-The sexual theme itself is encouraged far too much within the duration of the music video. Although homosexuality is almost generally frowned upon within society, Ke$ha uses this orientation to grab the attention, curiosity and sexual appetite of people, therefore withdrawing them from a world of bore. Its an indication that she's arrogant enough to 'break the rules' and wants to enforce herself as an aspiring role model and rebellious figure; the perfect concoction for an idol in her eyes. For an artist who aims her themes, music and style at teenagers in this generation, she is a lot more adult than her audience should be exposed to; speaking of exposure, the women in the clip (including herself) are wearing so little clothes they might as well not even bother. The core purpose of sex (I believe) is for two people IN A RELATIONSHIP TOGETHER to physically demonstrate mutual passion between themselves. Not with a group of people like in this video, and not so carelessly and disrespectfully. They all look degradingly horrible, as though the sentiment of love-making is utter rubbish and should be abused according to one's selfishness and craving. No wonder society is the way it is now, with all these manipulative modern celebrities using their money and positions to take advantage of the vulnerable and curious mind. In a few flickering scenes during the orgy, two wolves are seen to be wrestling in an either intimate or aggressive manner. Its hard to tell, since the picture is adjusted to slow-motion mode and in such quick snaps between other scenes. If it is sexual, well... is this an encouragement of bestiality? Let's just put more icing on the Sex cake and disturb those who are aware even more. If it was aggressive, well.... it could very well be a reference towards her fans whom she refers to as 'Animals'. And that, in itself, is another portrayal of her superiority over her minions. Basically, her fans are all careless and blind pets who play easily into her hands. They drink milk that is poisoned, and as we can all see now, the damage is near-irreversible.
-Ke$ha covers one eye several times through the duration of the video, so that we are focused on one eye of hers. That, in itself, is the most popular and frequently-used Illuminati symbol; the All-Seeing eye. She does this so much, people can't help but notice and conspire. It doesn't help either, that the editing of the video is cut into transparent triangles - much like the pyramid surrounding the All-Seeing eye itself.


Lady Gaga is responsible for aiding the cause of sexualising children. Why is it that some teenage girls are accustomed to dressing in a skimpy fashion according to their "idols"? Because they're unaware of the concept of brainwashing- and are playing the role of sex slaves within the community; in reference to Illuminati's regulations. Her performances are adult-themed pantomime and vaudeville burlesque. This doesn't seem much of a children's kind of genre, let alone something 'good parents' should be allowing them to inhale effortlessly. According to those who enjoy her music and have adjusted to her style, she's certainly a role model; but only in the romantic sense that artists are generally admired, encouraged and rewarded for breaking rules - even if it means to be odd - thus, the charisma that draws people in. Lady Gaga is a public-manipulator, mind-controlling sex fiend who uses several euphemisms throughout her musical lyric matter so that to the naked eye, teenagers and young girls and boys are unaware of the sole meaning and continue to promote her 'style' within the community. One thing's for sure; Lady Gaga is simply a plagiarist; who recycles diva Roison Murphy's fashion, as well as a mixture of other famous stylishness. Rather than creating and obtaining a name in originality and signature, her talents lie in media-manipulation and self-promotion. She was in trouble with Bette Midler last year, for ripping off her Delores DeLago act (the famous mermaid in a wheelchair which was a big hit during the 70s) during a concert. Midler sent her three frustrating Tweets, and I quote her: "You can keep the meat dress and the firecracker tits - mermaid's mine." It was then, that Gaga denied these claims then later on admitted to being 'seduced and admired' by Bette's DeLago act. That, in itself, contradicts her earlier denial and indicates fibbing. And no one ever lies just once.


Michael Jackson was murdered by his doctor (who was obviously an Illuminati member) for trying to break free of their clutches and attempting to send hidden codes revealing their plan via his music to the public. 'They don't really care about us' and 'Earth Song' are clear indications of coded tip-offs; he was reaching out to the world in hopes of convincing us of the power behind Illuminati. He was tortured in their grasp; and was playing a dangerous game by rebelling against the conspiracy. Needless to say, he was unsuccessful at the time when his comeback tour was cut short -say occult conspirators- when he was murdered by his controllers i.e. his doctor being the one chosen to do the dirty work. And as you know by now, he covered his tracks according to his medical 'profession' and the claim that Jackson had been overdosing on painkillers for a long time before his death.

Ageism: a question from a shallow and contradictory individual.

The question is as follows:

"If Myra Hindley actually committed the crimes/murders, would you think any differently of her?"

This, in itself, demonstrates a sense of curiosity and due to our past conversations, a form of interrogation and probing within a passionate agenda of mine. However despite this, the sole root of this topic upbringing is due to the practice of ageism on his part. Because he is forty-three years old and I am twenty, this is not a valid-enough reason to consider one's physical growth a solid enough example of knowledge superiority. Superiority, in itself, is an illusion manufactured by the fantasy of the human mind. Here is my answer to his question, as follows:


"Due to my extensive research, I already have a fair enough idea of her personality and intentions in life alone (ignoring the crimes at this point). Since its still debatable/arguable as to whether or not she committed any of the murders herself within the British public and the police overview, it still doesn't change the person she is. Even if she did commit the crimes, it would only demonstrate a further passion she had the guts to partake in, which is more than I can say for those who hide the urge at the back of their minds and adhere themselves to spitting irrational insults directed towards her or her media-shaped personality, with complete disregard to the similarities of ideas of amusement/arousal in their own heads. Please remember I am judging her as a person as one naturally would, not by her debatable choice of career. To judge her by her crimes is an indication of weakness to see the more significant traits. It is not in our power as individuals and existences far from perfection to judge another's nature; pointing out the "flaws" in another will only indicate ignorance and incompetence to see past things that are "frowned upon". That concept alone is another debatable issue, in which people will confuse fact with opinion. Generally I do believe Myra is a very sweet woman despite her wicked nature - and I mean that in a playful and NOT SERIOUS way. Its obvious that, by judging from those who knew her personally and described her as polite, responsible, sweet and caring, that she did not let the "crimes" affect the person she was. Her younger sister, Maureen, did notice a shift in her nature but that was Ian's doing, due to his neglection towards their "relationship". Even if I can imagine her actually committing the crimes, I also find that my general opinion of her does not change or falter." 


In the future, people should consider looking outside of the box should they choose to seek answers for things in disregard for preparation for the outcome. Following my response with the lengthy-value of a short fiction piece, the man in question stated that the topic itself made him very uncomfortable and that "I should know this by now." Well... as far as I'm concerned, I was merely answering a question of his out of honesty and consideration of his curiosity. If the topic really made him uncomfortable beyond further examination of the subject, our  "friendship" would not have been sparked by the argument over Hindley and the "crimes", the unnecessarily labels she obtained via media, and the growth of this topic overtime between us. Let me mention that a few seconds after he asked his main question I took about a mere total of 2-3 minutes to assure him I would answer his question as honestly as I could. He asked why it took me "so long" to respond; and in reference to the short period of a couple of minutes, its obvious how curious and in fact NOT uncomfortable he was, in awaiting the answer to his inquiry. I then told him I was involved with another in-depth conversation detailing a different subject entirely, and although multitasking may prove simple with simple tasks, the skill itself might prove to be a challenge if my mind is to be scattered in different directions within the same time frame. He did point out several times that the Moors murders occurred "before my time and I don't know anything of them"... does this come from a man who bases his short-lived "research" entirely on a quick Wikipedia scroll? Anyone can edit and submit information on that site, therefore it does not prove a reliable source. And is that really a valid statement to base an argument on, alone? I blame the old-fashioned concept of ageism and generation stereotyping on his part. It appears I know more about the murders than he does, and until he was being presented with this fact, he did not make it clear until now that this topic made him "uncomfortable, I should know that by now this is not a favoured subject of interest". If that were true, then why does he choose to pursue my opinions and so determined to seek loopholes to base immature arguments on? I believe he compensated for his lack of argument by criticizing my grammar, and of course with total disregard that he often communicates with me using "txt language", which is far more infuriating to one, than a simple apostrophe misplacement. This in itself, does indicate some sense of insecurity on his part. I believe he was put in his place quite well, which led him to ask if I believed I was a "better" poet than him. I fail to see how this question relates at all, other than to indicate insecurity. I then told him there are different audiences for different styles of art/forms of creativity, and he shouldn't be so shallow as to assume that judging-by-surface is reliable enough to prove itself fact, and not opinion-based as it is.
And there you have it. The egotism of adulthood: following the contradiction and determination to appear superior in all areas. Screw it all.

Love Hessie

this earth, it is cursed.

You know I have always been exasperated with the growing presences of vermin surrounding me; just as a leaf will outgrow its iron-grip branch and drop onto equally old and tired lawn. I don't doubt the reason for my nausea is an overdose of weeping flowers, comforting grass and solid roots; roots that will stick to one surface only. You are rooted for all time. This is not where the seed is to drop; there is no dog's back to travel from, into another land. I am none of these things; I watch from the window as rain slathers the gardens in never-ending tears; as if it knows the sadness seeping beneath the earth. The cup of tea is rather warm in my clasp; as Myra's face on the front is equally hot. I will never attach myself to a single degree and that degree only. I was uprooted long ago, when bulldozers shook me from my wake. "GO!" they said, "this is not the land or place for you. You were born for larger fields, meadow's grace and quickened pace."
I have long since moved on; the flowers, trees and grass stayed planted in their place. This is the yard that always cries. I see bent flowers carrying dewdrop curses everyday. They want the attention of the trees; the elders of their generation. Alas, the trees will give it to them. Enough that the flowers will surely blossom again the next day. Tired lawns poison the earth. I am as sure of this as I'm sure the other half of me rests across the blanket of the ocean; calls to me. Sweet harp of salty air and fixated gaze; blacksmith's cradle and lantern's kiss. And I cannot light this fire without a match.

my idea of living.

"  life will halt no excitement, whatsoever ; even in slumber's wake. "

Hmmm?

I don't know what's wrong with me: I don't want to be with my family but I want to be with my sister and mother, not my nephew and other children. Do I want to be with my mother? I want to be in the presence of good intention, not guilt tripping over my calm and crushing it like a dying Autumn leaf. The pain is there, I know it is; because my heart writhes and pumps and tries to free itself. It hurts greatly, so much that I cry, and the tears threaten to stain my face. I know what my mother will say; she will see my bloodshot eyes and ask me if I'm on drugs. I can't bear to hear her, and I take to my room. She wants to punch me. There's a mean look curtained by her green irises, and I don't doubt that she hates me. My sister is disappointed; she wants me to go with them. And she'll hate me now, for sure... because I won't go, because she's with my nephew. Don't you see if that I go I'll be trapped? I don't want to be the person that ensures my captivity. I don't want to go because I won't be happy. I don't like that they don't see that.
Stay behind, Myra will say, if that makes you happy and more comfortable.
Comfort zones are vital, she says too, and I know. I know it all too well, just as she knows me too well. Too well for her own good. Mother breaks my heart, my sister flattens the remainder fragments; my nephew runs his miniature firetruck over the shattered icicles and makes engine noises with his lips. I don't like that they don't see it's not safe out there at all. People are bullies, especially children. They look up to their parents who grew up on the illusion of superiority; boasting their way through life with fists and dirty narrowed eyes. They pound quivering walls until it's all one big room, and not a house with different sections. I'm in another house. I like houses with walls. That way, I know what mood I'm in. Myra stays in my room only, for her comfort is my own; just as her presence whispers to my heart and puts it to sleep. It's no longer writhing. The tears that burned it in its place have now evaporated with time.
Comfort zones are important, she will say to me again. Her voice has the soft glide of dancer's grace on smooth ice rink floors.  I'd like to hold her properly, but I can't. Not until I light a fire.
I know, I will say.
Go and have a fag, she will interrupt me completely with the trace of a smirk. A fag and a handful of anxiety busters; sounds good to me. Until they return; til then I can rest my blinded nerves.

Some criminals are unbelievably thick.

Today I watched Forensic Files; and it was ten minutes into the episode that I realized how stupid some criminals really are, and how ignorant they are of facts and means of scientific discoveries. If you're going to commit a crime, taking into perspective the modern and advanced human mind and technologies, at least cover your tracks or make an effort to hide the evidence completely. Without the idiotic moves of this killer, he would not have been tracked at all and might have gotten off scot-free; if the motive itself weren't so obvious to begin with. 

How does one murder another by blunt trauma to the back of the head, then place them under a car and expect authorities/investigators/pathologists to wave it off as a hit-and-run if there is no evidence of bruising or broken bones? It's even funnier that the criminal made an effort to produce skid-marks from a short distance behind the vehicle, so as to insinuate the driver tried to come to a sudden stop from a fast speed as soon as the figure was seen in the middle of the road. If that were the case, where were (as I mentioned) the bruising on the body to suggest the victim was even run over? Even if it were true, the victim himself would have rolled over the hood of the car with the impact of the accident, and fallen nearby or behind the vehicle itself. He would not be positioned , and so physically perfect, behind the front wheels, beneath the center of the automobile. And if you think that was stupid enough, what were the victim's items such as a jacket and pair of shoes doing stacked neatly next to the wheels? It doesn't match the fraudulent retelling of events; because that's just... wrong. One's clothing simply does not remove itself cleanly, with the contact of a car and glide across the ground in a neat pile next to the car unless the death involved a perpetrator and was premeditated/intentional. Here's another stupid move on the killer's part, who happened to be the boss of the victim and the sole beneficiary of all his insurances FUNNILY ENOUGH. He knew that the victim's remains would be sent to the funeral home where he worked for a medical autopsy, and he himself performed the task lousily; even though as a general practitioner he was not fully certified to, and failed to wait for the M.E to arrive. Instead of examining photographs, the crime scene, interviewing several people, checking for broken bones and bruising/marks, performing x-rays, along with the general protocol required to be followed for such a duty, he overlooked these things completely and named it a hit-and-run so as to quicken the process of an accidental death announcement so he could get his $980,000 pay out and disperse it among his wife (who helped him to cover his tracks, pathetically enough) and the two other conspirators involved. All men, plus the wife, were charged with premeditated murder, insurance fraud, theft (regarding the car) and withholding information from police. Had it not been for a certified forensic pathologist's application to review the cause of death once again due to the strange circumstances/nature of the crime, this idiot might have gotten away for longer than the three or so years he was spared justice. Upon the second medical examination, however, forensic pathologists found obvious wood splinters lodged in the back of the victim's skull and head. Further examination revealed that this was the sole cause of death. Where does this wood come from? There's no wood on a car. In reference to the gigantic bruise found at the back of his skull, it became obvious that the victim died of severe head trauma with a blunt object and not a result of being run over; which raised suspicion against the boss/GP who performed the first autopsy lazily, and failed to identify and note the incriminating characteristics. I'll take the time now to give kudos to the witness who saw the car parked outside the funeral director's office the night before the murder. Upon examining the car itself -which was stolen and belonged to an elderly man physically unfit for such events, let alone even an acquaintance of the victim- authorities found blood splatters on the inside of the windshield and along the chrome bar inside the passenger's door. You guessed it: the blood was an O-type and matched the victim's DNA perfectly. This fact alone contradicts the possibility of a hit and run, don't you think? Incredibly stupid, don't you think? Even if he tried to remove the blood, Luminol (a reagent used to reveal hidden blood from hemoglobin factors and gives it a bright blue appearance) would have traced it anyway. Don't these people know you should always dispose of evidence? Given the motive behind this all, the killer's identity would be obvious but it would be a highly difficult task to charge him with the absence of physical evidence. 

I can't wait to start my career as a forensic/criminal profiler.

i stole his clothes bed

i stole his clothes bed, robbed him of shelter and my father took him outside; hurled him faraway into grass. That's not his home at all. his home is my own home but he disagrees. i have seen his family members in this house for a long time even after killing them, they never leave because its their house apparently. i saw him tonight and i smelled his rage and defense. now i smell burnt leaves crushed under great heavy rubber boots coming this way. they're his original parents, parents of my species. or are they anthropomorphic bears in boots? they are coming for me just like they said. set me on fire set me on fire set me on fire theyll take me to the woods and theyll set me on fire, set me on fire, set me on fire theyll take me to the woods and theyll set me on fire set me on fire set me on fire
fly knows all; it buzzes GO AWAY I know they're here I'm just getting ready.