i may have some writers block
but im still useful to you
i stick up for you in fights
and i sing to you at night
but only my old songs
Well here’s the evidence of human existence:
A splitting binbag next to two damp boxes
And I cannot find a name for them;
They hardly show that I have lived
And the dust, it settles on these things
Displays my age again
Like a new skin made from old skin
That had barely been lived in
I didn’t need these things
I didn’t need them, oh
Pointless artifacts from
A mediocre past
So I shed my clothes, I shed my flesh
Down to the bone and burned the rest
This coming Monday I’ll be doing a 10k walk around “legal London”, starting at the Royal Courts of Justice and ending at the Law Society, the long way round, to raise money for the London Legal Support Trust.
As we know the Government doesn’t want peasants with too much access to legal advice, so the funding available has been and continues to be cut. Funding cuts closed, on average, one London legal advice centre a month during 2011.
Law Centres and specialist legal advice agencies provide their services through a mixture of legal aid contracts, local authority funding and charitable donations. The agencies make a huge difference to people’s lives, reducing debt, poverty and homelessness, and combating discrimination and injustice. The Government proposes further cuts that will remove several areas of social welfare law from the legal aid scheme, including benefits, debt, employment and non-asylum immigration.
Please help us to raise much needed funds to keep the agencies open by digging deep and sponsoring me. The BLP team and I would really appreciate it.
H-E-A-R-T is how you can find your way to me,
It’s what keeps my fingers warm and my thoughts unravelling
I don’t have HIV and you don’t have a single thing on me
So I can keep writing in my blood this carelessly
My head can hardly hold these thoughts
And my hands can hardly ink this knife
My dear I can rewrite your life
By giving it to mine with blood on the floor
These words fall left and right, I’ll wrap the paper ‘round you in the night
And let the ink seep through your skin ‘til it reaches your bloodstream
I’ll bandage these events; I’ve never understood your sentiments,
I’ll write myself a version I can call my sweet regret
We rewrite your life
Angel: Well, I guess I kinda worked it out. If there’s no great glorious end to all this, if nothing we do matters… , then all that matters is what we do. ‘Cause that’s all there is. What we do. Now. Today. I fought for so long, for redemption, for a reward, and finally just to beat the other guy, but I never got it.
Kate Lockley: And now you do?
Angel: Not all of it. All I wanna do is help. I wanna help because, I don’t think people should suffer as they do. Because, if there’s no bigger meaning, then the smallest act of kindness is the greatest thing in the world.
Kate Lockley: Yikes. It sounds like you’ve had an epiphany.
Angel: I keep saying that, but nobody’s listening.
—Angel - ‘Epiphany’
- I don’t say homosexuality is an abomination, Mr. President. The Bible does.
- Yes, it does. Leviticus.
- Chapter and verse. I wanted to ask you a couple of questions while I had you here. I’m interested in selling my youngest daughter into slavery as sanctioned in Exodus 21:7. She’s a Georgetown sophomore, speaks fluent Italian, and always clears the table when it’s her turn. What would a good price for her be? While thinking about that, can I ask another? My Chief of Staff, Leo McGarry, insists on working on the Sabbath. Exodus 35:2, clearly says he should be put to death. Am I morally obligated to kill him myself or is it okay to call the police? Here’s one that’s really important, cause we’ve got a lot of sports fans in this town. Touching the skin of a dead pig makes us unclean, Leviticus 11:7. If they promise to wear gloves, can the Washington Redskins still play football? Can Notre Dame? Can West Point? Does the whole town really have to be together to stone my brother, John, for planting different crops side by side? Can I burn my mother in a small family gathering for wearing garments made from two different threads? Think about those questions, would you? One last thing, while you may be mistaking this for your monthly meeting of the Ignorant Tightass Club, in this building, when the President stands, nobody sits.
(dunno who made this but….we are soul mates :D)