IntergalacticQueef wrote:If my poetic expressions of how I feel offended you or went over your head you must be living on sleepy hollow and have already LOST YOUR HEAD (maybe the reason you mindless morons don't have an ounce of compassion inside your empty hearts.
Experience has shown that, when a member dies, or someone is in genuine need, there is plenty of compassion shown on this forum.
It sounds like you are under quite a bit of strain. If you need a sympathetic ear, pm me or ask and I'm sure someone on the forum will oblige you.
"Well if you read what I wrote and the responses I received you will realize most of looked down on me like a joke because I wore my heart on my sleeve for everyone to see and yes I am a queen, a typo turned into a queef. Like in Bangkok, where a gangsters son is now a police chief , My brothers 5 year old son is currently going through chemotherapy, my grandmother recently died as well as a close friend and I was almost murdered by corrupted police, is that enough "MEAT" on my poetic bones or do you need more sleep to discover my lion that roams? No, cuz Most people are Sheep wandering down a Sh!t Stained street they call a home...
IntergalacticQueef wrote:If my poetic expressions of how I feel offended you or went over your head you must be living on sleepy hollow and have already LOST YOUR HEAD (maybe the reason you mindless morons don't have an ounce of compassion inside your empty hearts.
Yes poetry does help in times of stress and trouble. Maybe things will be better tomorrow for you and also your nephew. I was in hospital for three months as a child, so I know how awful that can be. Anyway, my late mother who loved poetry used to read this poem to me: Maybe read it to your nephew?
I wandered lonely as a Cloud
That floats on high o'er Vales and Hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd
A host of dancing Daffodils;
Along the Lake, beneath the trees,
Ten thousand dancing in the breeze.
The waves beside them danced, but they
Outdid the sparkling waves in glee: --
A poet could not but be gay
In such a laughing company:
I gazed -- and gazed -- but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:
For oft when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude,
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the Daffodils.
IntergalacticQueef wrote:
"Well if you read what I wrote and the responses I received you will realize most of looked down on me like a joke because I wore my heart on my sleeve for everyone to see and yes I am a queen, a typo turned into a queef.
Then create a new username and start again, in a way that does not attract 'jokes'. It's nobody else's fault if you put across what you are feeling in a way others don't understand.
IntergalacticQueef wrote:If my poetic expressions of how I feel offended you or went over your head you must be living on sleepy hollow and have already LOST YOUR HEAD (maybe the reason you mindless morons don't have an ounce of compassion inside your empty hearts.
Yes poetry does help in times of stress and trouble. Maybe things will be better tomorrow for you and also your nephew. I was in hospital for three months as a child, so I know how awful that can be. Anyway, my late mother who loved poetry used to read this poem to me: Maybe read it to your nephew?
I wandered lonely as a Cloud
That floats on high o'er Vales and Hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd
A host of dancing Daffodils;
Along the Lake, beneath the trees,
Ten thousand dancing in the breeze.
The waves beside them danced, but they
Outdid the sparkling waves in glee: --
A poet could not but be gay
In such a laughing company:
I gazed -- and gazed -- but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:
For oft when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude,
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the Daffodils.
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Well thanks Siri but I think my 5 year old nephew would never understand the extensive vocabulary in this particular poem although beautiful its not 'personally relevant' to my nephew as was the one I sent to him. If any of you disliked it or it went over your heads, could you please be polite about your critiques and not make indirect attacks on my character? I am going through a tremendously difficult time in my life and I find the lack of support here from most of you to be appalling. My nephew and family actually loved my poem I sent to him because they could understand what it meant and at 5 years old, he obviously has more braincells than some people who responded here who attacked me for a typo on my name or for being to 'melodramatic' after having all these horrible things happen to me.(also from a woman whose personal quote is 'If u got nothing nice to say, than say nothing at all) Maybe if I was Paul Ayling and everyone KNEW who I was and the specific details of my accident with a police report, I'd receive a bit more support..Its unfortunate, I notice a lot of hatred, racism and bigotry by some of the posters on this forum and I think the moderators are in full support of this disgusting act of disrespect. If you want to make a joke out my name -Richard, well maybe your name is DICK for short or I could assume other things based on anyone's names. Even if my name was not a Typo. An Intergalactic Queef would be one hell of a natural disaster that could quite possibly make the earthquake and send Hua Hin straight to the depths of Hell in which most of you dwell within wearing a bloodless heart of snake skin and a demons grin, most of you are reflections of your own sins..
IntergalacticQueef wrote:"Well if you read what I wrote and the responses I received you will realize most of looked down on me like a joke because I wore my heart on my sleeve for everyone to see and yes I am a queen, a typo turned into a queef. Like in Bangkok, where a gangsters son is now a police chief , My brothers 5 year old son is currently going through chemotherapy, my grandmother recently died as well as a close friend and I was almost murdered by corrupted police, is that enough "MEAT" on my poetic bones or do you need more sleep to discover my lion that roams? No, cuz Most people are Sheep wandering down a Sh!t Stained street they call a home...
Oh, I thought you intentionally chose the word queef as part of your username.
Queef=vaginal fart
