=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= = F.U.C.K. - Fucked Up College Kids - Born Jan. 24th, 1993 - F.U.C.K. = =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Convictions? ------------ The sun had reached the height of its peaceful journey through the heavens. Several people milled about the streets, relaxing and enjoying the lazy Saturday morning. Two elderly men sat outside the local barbershop discussing small town politics, while a dog lounged on the step of the corner drug store. It was a common day in a common town. Slowly, the soft clatter of trotting horses arose from the distance. Down the dusty road appeared a small wooden wagon. The lone rider wiped his brow as the horses made their way to the town square. He was a farmer from a plot just outside town. His dusty brown hair fell just above his eyes, while his soft brown eyes scanned the town. Stopping in front of the county store, he dismounted and watered his horses. As he walked toward the store the golden cross around his neck sparkled in the midday sun. Reaching the cool darkness of the porch, he opened the door and went in to purchase supplies. The two horses stood there ignoring the annoying flies that attacked them from all angles. A group of young boys approached the resting horses with a handful of small noise makers left over from the Fourth of July celebration a few days before. One of the boys flung them under the horses. The explosions echoed through the street, shattering the calm silence of the peaceful town. Startled, the horses reared and bolted down the dusty road. The townsfolk gathered at the road and watched in horror as the wagon traveled toward a deep ravine just outside of town. Hearing the commotion, the young farmer threw open the doors of the store and ran after the escaping wagon. With speed normally unknown to man, he chased the wagon and lunged for the reins. He grasped the worn leather and pulled himself between the galloping horses. The beasts continued their flight, dragging their captor mercilessly along the gravel. Nearing the edge of the ravine and imminent disaster, the horses stopped as if by some miracle. But this gift was not without a price. The horses reared once and trampled the young farmer. By this time, the frightened people had reached the scene of his death. The sight of the unnecessary destruction saddened them. Why hadn't he just let them go? The wagon would have been destroyed, and the horses wouldn't have lived, but his life would have remained. Why? Why had he given up his life? A small whisper pierced the questioning silence. A small blonde head appeared above the wagon. The answer had become clear. He had died for his son. He had sacrificed his life for someone he loved... One of the reasons that our society is becoming so terrible is the lack of commitment and meaning in our lives. The farmer depicted above set his standards by the way he lived and died. He knew that without the love and commitment that it took to stop the charging horses, his son would have died without ever experiencing life. The same thing is needed in our lives as Americans. We need to stand strong for issues that we belive in. We cannot tolerate the immorality and the disrespect that we as Americans participate in. You watch MTV and see videos showing illegal acts and sexual induendo. You go outside and see people blatently disrespecting the morals that we have been holding in our hearts for hundreds of years. In New York, I believe, a man boarded a subway train and began to shoot the passengers. The people on the train who had the opportunity to stop him did not raise a finger. If they had stood up for life and morality, then perhaps several people could have continued their lives. I guess what I am trying to say is that people have lost their passion to be alive. No one has any convictions any more. We have lost any meaning to our lives. If you can see what I am trying to say, then do me a favor. Help an old lady across the street. If you see a woman struggling with shopping bags in a parking lot, stop and help her. Don't be cold and heartless. Don't put up with what the events that you see and hear that you know are wrong. Be alive again. ùIllusionaryù =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= = Questions, Comments, Bitches, Ideas, Rants, Death Threats, etc etc... = = Internet : lamb@sun1.coe.ttu.edu WWIVnet : 123@3314 = = VMB : 303.763.6377 Or On One Of The Boards Below... = =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= = Ionic Destruction 215.722.0570 Wulf's Den 303.699.WULF = = E.L.F. 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