Independent Pages

THE ANT AND THE GRASSHOPPER
This one is a little different…Two different versions… Two different morals.
Old Version-The ant works hard in the withering heat all summer long, building his house and laying up supplies for winter.
The grasshopper thinks the ant is a fool and dances and plays the summer away..
Come winter. the ant is warm and well fed.
The grasshopper has no food or shelter, so he dies out in the cold…
MORAL OF THE STORY: Be responsible for yourself!

Modern Version- The ant works hard in the withering heat and rain all summer long, building his house and laying up supplies for winter.
The grasshopper thinks the ant is a fool and laughs and dances and plays the summer away.
Come winter, the shivering grasshopper calls a press conference and demands to know why the ant should be allowed to be warm and well while he is cold and starving.
CBS, NBC, PBS, CNN, and ABC show up to provide pictures of the shivering grasshopper next to a video of the ant in his comfy home with a table full of food.
AMERICA IS STUNNED BY THE SHARP CONTRAST.
How can this be, that in a country of such wealth, this poor grasshopper is allowed to suffer so?
Kermit the Frog appears on Oprah with the grasshopper and everybody cries when they sing, ‘It’s Not Easy Being Green.”
Acorn stages a demonstration in front of the ant’s house where the news stations film the group singing, “We Shall Overcome.” Reverend Jeremiah Wright then has the group kneel down to pray to God for the grasshopper’s sake.
President Obama condemns the ant and blames President Bush, President Reagan, Christiopher Columbus, and the Pope for the grasshopper’s plight.
Nancy Pelosi and Harry Reid exclaim in an interview with Larry King that the ant has gotten rich of the back of the grasshopper, and both call for an immediate tax hike on the ant to make him pay his fair share.
Finally, the EEOC drafts the Economic Equity and Anti-Grasshopper Act retroactive to the beginning of the summer.
The ant is fined for failing to hire a proportionate number of green bugs and,having nothing left to pay his retroactive taxes, his home is confiscated by the Government Green Czar and given to the grasshopper.
The story ends as we see the grasshopper and his free-loading friends finishing up the last bits of the ant’s food while the government house he is in, which, as you recall, just happens to be the ant’s old house, crumbles around them because the grasshopper doesn’t maintain it.
The ant has dissapeared in the snow, never to be seen again.
The grasshopper is found dead in a drug related incident *cough cough overdose*, and the house, now abandoned, is taken over by a gang of spiders who terrorize the ramshackle, once prosperous and peaceful neighborhood.
The entire Nation collapses bringing the rest of the free world with it.
MORAL OF THE STORY: Be careful who you vote for in 2012.

This has been Kimiri Moon.

Hello again. I haven’t written much in a while, though I really need to. I want to make this more of a blog than anything else, but stalkers are all too common throughout bloggers…
Paranoia is about the only thing that stalks me. It goes hand in hand with worry, and sadness, and above all, the sense that I’m alone in this world. My best friend and I recently had a huge fight. It hurt me. It still does. She told me to look at myself. I said I did and that I hated what I saw. The reply was, “So does everyone else.”
Being told by the person I thought was my friend that not only she but everyone else hated me was… I don’t even know how to put it. I was down from something else already, and it crushed me. Mostly because she was right.
I have never felt so alone…
In eleven days my birthday occurs. In eleven days I will be so happy. I hope. But one thing I’ve learned is that hope is dangerous. A double edged sword. It gives you strength to carry on, something to look forward to. And there are times when our hopes prove to be true. It feels so good- to have what you wanted. But other times we get dissapointed. Heart broken. Crushed. And that is the absolute power of hope- it can kill as much as can bring to life, can hurt as much as it can heal. But no matter how hard we try, hope comes. It’s part of human nature. We can’t avoid it. I can’t.
Hope is why my heart is bruised and beaten to hell and back, why it hurt so much when I was told by one of the people I loved most she hated me. I cry so hard in the middle of the night because of it, when darkness surrounds me and paranoia with sadness, dashed with worry and loneliness swallows me whole. That’s just my life at the moment.
I can only hope it gets better.

This has been Kimiri Moon.

Last night, I was in a mood and wrote this song that really came from my heart (no pun intended). It’s called My Heart, though I don’t really like the title and if you have any suggestions I’d really appreciate it. Please read it and comment.

(Verse1)
There’s a little time left
For tears left unshed
For things left undone
For thoughts left unsaid
Take what’s left of it now
And let it pour out
Straight into a dead heart
Till it overflows
Take what’s left of it now
And let it pour out

(Chorus)
I took the knife to my heart
Held it out in my hand
Still beating only in part
Still beating, can’t you understand?
The one I want, the one I need
The one for which my heart still beats
Took the knife to my heart
And held it out in my hand.

(Verse2)
This heart, it still bleeds
But oh, not with blood
What flows now is pure
Undiluted, but dead
It breaks with the words
That I want you to say
Take the things left undone
Take the thoughts left unsaid
Take what’s left of it now
And let it pour out.

(Chorus)
I took the knife to my heart
And held it out in my hand
Still beating only in part
Still beating, can’t you understand?
The one I want, the one I need
The one for which my heart still beats
Took the knife to my heart
And held it out in my hand.

(Bridge)
Now reach out for me

And take this dead heart 

Keep it close to yours  

And we’ll beat in part. 

Take what’s left of me now
Pieces that don’t fit
The shattered remains
Of the girl who once said
To take her dead heart
And bring it to life
The dead heart that still beats
Still bleeds in the night
Take it out of my hand
Take it out of my hand…

(Chorus)
I took the knife to my heart
Held it out in my hand
Still beating only in part
Still beating, can’t you understand?
The one I want, the one I need
The one for which my heart still beats
Took the knife to my heart
And held it out in my hand.

This has been Kimiri Moon.

It’s all happened to us before- we wait an hour for cold, greasy, nasty pizza, and the delivery boy has an attitude because you won’t give him a tip. Well, here are some “tips” you can give him, if he wants one so badly.

5) Wait till he drives away and then shoot a rocket launcher at the car. -canofcarrots

4) Make him eat the pizza. But add some ‘extras’ to it first. -born/died

3) MEXICO!!! -rosesnguns

2) Deflate the tires while he’s in ur driveway OR throw a rabid mutant Simpson squirrel with a gazillion eyes in the backseat. -Jane of Diary!

And the number one way to get revenge on the pizza boy?

1) Tie him to a chair and force him to listen to Eminem, Lil Wayne, Soulja Boy, and every other retarded, wannabe rap artist in the world. It will destroy him with the repetitive, boring lyrics within the hour. -foundnlost

Top five ways provided by my wonderful commenters. I LOVE YOU ALL!!

This has been Kimiri Moon.

Our number-one band, Disturbed, releases their fifth album Asylum in August 2010. In two days (6/14) they will release the teaser song for the album, called “Another Way To Die”. On the fifteenth the song will be available on iTunes. I am seriously going to download that song. Every fan of Disturbed should too. I have been eagerly awaiting the release of this album since Indestructible came out! (2008) I seriously cannot wait to hear it. I mean, it’s called Asylum. From the band whose lead singer, a decade ago, first stepped onstage in a straightjacket an now is one of the best bands ever. Like I’ve said before to those of you who disagree with that statement- liberate your mind and don’t read my reviews of Disturbed. But anyway, I think now is the time to thank my friends who introduced me to Disturbed -coughcoughWolvenAngelcoughLawly-. Thank you so frigging much!!!
And that’s my headliner news for today. Enjoy.

This has been Kimiri Moon.

Independent Pages has a new look, because I got tired of looking at the same green, ugly theme for the past year. I’m so ecstatic with the new look and I hope everyone will be too! Please leave your comments about the change, because I love to read them. Without you guys I am nothing.

This has been Kimiri Moon.

School has ended. The time has come for every kid to ask themselves- WHAT THE HECK AM I GOING TO DO FOR THE NEXT SEVENTY-FIVE DAYS?
The freedom of summer also comes with the tedious, repetitive, mindless boredom. With all this free time, what are we supposed to do with it? Most of it is spent either in fun times or remission, depending on your social status. My social status is like nil, so remission is my usual route. Seventy-five days cooped up in a house- fun, isn’t it?
So I ask you all- HELP ME. Please find something a little loser like me can do with her summer, before I go crazy. Please, for my sanity, for my health, help me! Texting only goes so far, especially when your closest friends are off enjoying their summer. But that’s beside the point. This is a desperate plea before I turn desperate! -lol-

So if you all out there truly love me, save me from the bottomless pit of boredom that is summer!

This has been Kimiri Moon.

Hello! This is a short notice going out to all youtubers-
Our name is Normal Abnormal. Don’t steal the name for our series. Thanks and go vampire kitties of america!!

What do you think would be the worst way to die? Maybe drowning or getting burned at the stake. But I think the worst possible way to die is to be forgotten.
If you’re forgotten, it doesn’t matter what you accomplished in your life. Noone will remember. So what would be the point of living when we are all forgotten at some point? The people who loved you will stop thinking about you because its either too painful to think about your death or they just don’t care. And at that piont, you don’t exist. They die and are forgotten, and so on.
Nice way to think about death, but when you’re me, there is no nice way to think about anything.

This has been Kimiri Moon.

   I walk down the halls of my school an outcast, but I happily accept that status. That is what sets me apart from the countless gum-snapping bimbos in too-tight jeans. It also means that I have few friends, and sometimes I’m going to stand alone. Isolation is just a part of life. You have to accept that if you want to continue living on with hopes and dreams and memories.

   My outcast status is by my own doing; I could fit in if I wanted to. But recently, my whole views on the world changed dramatically. I looked at everyone else, and how hard I tried to dress like them and act like them, and how I hated them. I realized that if I continued on the path I was on, I’d become something I loathed. That moment of insight was unbearable. There was another path available, and I took it eagerly.

   So I changed, from a blonde prep to something I don’t know what to label. I ditched the Jonas Brothers for bands like Disturbed and Three Days Grace, dumped the pink clothes for darker ones. This drastic change was possible because I’d rather be hated by others than be something I hated. I embraced the fact that this new path would be so much more difficult than the other one, and that I’d be alone most of the time. That suited me fine. I have been a loner most of my life, and being by myself was mostly what I did.

   I never expected to find friends on this path, much less some of the best friends I’ve ever had. I don’t think I found them; I like to think that they found me, this sad little girl that lost so much hope for herself. Even better, they understood me, and one is even similar in music tastes to me. I had friends, but no place in thier group. That didn’t and still doesn’t matter to me. I’ve gotten more than I dared to hope for. How can I be more greedy, wanting a place to belong? A place is something that is given to few and misused by many, and I don’t want that responsibility. Not that I would say no if it was offered.

   So even though it hurts when I’m excluded, when I’m left alone, when I’m isolated, I console myself that it’s nothing compared to what it could be. Nothing at all. I’m so grateful for what I have now it almost doesn’t matter.

   Almost.

- Kimiri Moon