"The Beast Within?"

"The Beast Within?"
By: Blake T. Miller



        What am I to think of, is like skiing downhill with improvision that is acknowledgable to entertain. It is style itself that has to don. Anyway, I am not claiming so easily that I ebb of being an intellectual heavyweight because, where is the joy of vainly become purposeless? is that yours or anybody's greatest fear? However, I just think that between being a comforter and being a builder of the future. The tailor of the emperor himself is a talent so, I just want to sound human. Nice clothes that adorns the eye in a way that is truthful and alluring, but am I a hypocrite for trying to being a Samauri in a Padoga? When I write, I want you to read silk. Like lovely silk on a beautiful skin, a girl's skin, anyway, I admit, I did try to wonder what it is like to wear a dress. Nice evening dress, so, It is kinda of personal wondering of mine. I did try to like, pretend to powder up like a gal would. Girls just have it real easy if they live in some fanasty world but, I know I ain't no princess or, anything like that. I just wonder, you know? To me, Hugh Hefner wears a dress. Nice bathrobe with a greenery for his pipe and a fire to warm a lonely nights.  However, Hugh Hefner is like a Used Car dealer. Although, he deals with exotic cars, but, these goods are somewhat damaged because, they had to price their bodies. A bruised fruit, maybe, but nevertheless, they can make any Joe feel like he is on the top of the world. Anyway, what I come to think of is that the Americans are not really lucky, that they are tragic in a way, and it is statistical that it becomes a law that people have to be depressed in America. The Government does not permit or feel secure with people pursuing horticulture ambitions. There is a certain hurdle to jump over, towards an American Paradise and sure enough, when your parents look at you, wishing, wanting an abortion. When your father treated your mother so greiveously, the mother carries the burnt of hate to the bastard son. There is a expression that comes into the picture, "We can't chose our parents". We all want famous celebrities to become our dream parents. Our ideal fanasty of being under a different parent is real tangible. It is almost so advanced and imaginative. It reaches the borders of the celestial heavens. The kind of buzz you feel from the Sistine chapel. Maybe, Michaelanglo was just trying to straigthen a bad back, so, he decided to paint underneath a ceiling.