Did you forget
That I was even alive
Did you forget
Everything we ever had
Did you forget
Did you forget
About me
Did you regret
Ever standing by my side
Did you forget
What we were feeling inside
Now I'm left to forget
About us
But somewhere we went wrong
We were once so strong
Our love is like a song
You can't forget it
So now I guess
This is where we have to stand
Did you regret
Ever holding my hand
Never again
Please don't forget
Don't forget
We had it all
We were just about to fall
Even more in love
Than we were before
I won't forget
I won't forget
About us
But somewhere we went wrong
We were once so strong
Our love is like a song
You can't forget it
Somewhere we went wrong
We were once so strong
Our love is like a song
You can't forget it
At all
And at last
All the pictures have been burned
And all the past
Is just a lesson that we've learned
I won't forget
I won't forget us
But somewhere we went wrong
Our love is like a song
But you won't sing along
You've forgotten
About us
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Friday, April 10, 2009
My boy?
"I want a guy who brushes the side of my face then gives me a kiss,
holds my hand wherever we are to make everyone jealous
Someone who would sing to me at random moments.
Someone who would let me sleep on their chest.
A boy who would get mad at someone
if they called me ugly or was mean to me.
I want someone to call me 3 times a day if he went away.
Someone who would let me gossip if I wanted and would just smile,
agree and giggle with the news.
He would throw pillows and stuffed animals at me when I acted
dumb and then kiss.me.a.million.times.
Someone who would make fun of me just to make me laugh.
He would take me out anywhere, put his hands on my hips and
give me big bear hugs all the time.
He would tell his friends about me
and smile as he did it. :)
We would make out in the pouring rain, he'd never be afraid to say
'I Love You' in front of his friends and family.
We'd argue about silly things then make up.
I want a boy who would kiss me at midnight on New Years then count stars with me.
Someone who would stay home with me on a Friday night to make
dinner & watch movies while cuddling under the same blanket.
A person to tell me I'm handsome, but not too often.
Who would make me laugh like no one else could.
But mostly I want someone to be my bestfriend and would never break my heart."
holds my hand wherever we are to make everyone jealous
Someone who would sing to me at random moments.
Someone who would let me sleep on their chest.
A boy who would get mad at someone
if they called me ugly or was mean to me.
I want someone to call me 3 times a day if he went away.
Someone who would let me gossip if I wanted and would just smile,
agree and giggle with the news.
He would throw pillows and stuffed animals at me when I acted
dumb and then kiss.me.a.million.times.
Someone who would make fun of me just to make me laugh.
He would take me out anywhere, put his hands on my hips and
give me big bear hugs all the time.
He would tell his friends about me
and smile as he did it. :)
We would make out in the pouring rain, he'd never be afraid to say
'I Love You' in front of his friends and family.
We'd argue about silly things then make up.
I want a boy who would kiss me at midnight on New Years then count stars with me.
Someone who would stay home with me on a Friday night to make
dinner & watch movies while cuddling under the same blanket.
A person to tell me I'm handsome, but not too often.
Who would make me laugh like no one else could.
But mostly I want someone to be my bestfriend and would never break my heart."
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
Monday, April 6, 2009
The Hunter Show: Drop Kick yo' ass Edition
Just because you believe in the all and powerful GOD, please don't look at me and think because of the way I look, I need Jesus in my life. I have something to say to you....Fuck you...Jesus Saves! lol.
Sunday, April 5, 2009
The Hunter Show: The Ex-Boyfriend Edition
Ex-boyfriends/girlfriends are exes for a reason. :) Watch...Btw I am not fuckin Doctor Phil. Just passing along my thoughts lol.
The Hunter Show: The f-ed up Queen Edition
I am so tired of gay guys ruining it for the rest of us thinking that because they are gay they have to act like fuckin' pansy ass motherfuckers!!! You're a man. Act like it. Oh and to the fat fag in Huntsville who was talkin shit, you're fat for a reason!
Friday, April 3, 2009
The Hunter Show: Shout outs!!!
Some of my friends wanted a shout out...so hear it is...and yes Hannah Montana the movie I am going to go see. Fuck it.
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
The Hunter Show: Bitch Session Wed.
Moving Bitch sessions to Wednesday just for this week. So after much thought, I got to thinking about people and privacy. Britney and celebs in general. NO I am not trying to post a Chris Crocker wannabe video, just a topic of when something has nothing to do with you or your name, why does it seem that you have to be involved somehow? Why do other peoples actions need strangers attention? I feel what happens behind close doors, private or vulnerable need to stay that way. So in the future what people do sexually in their own bedroom, let it stay there and try to be respectful of the love people share when it has nothing to do with you. :)
Putting on a show? All for the love of God?
"Salvation"
By Langston Huges
I was saved from sin when I was going on thirteen. But not really saved. It happened like this. There was a big revival at my Auntie Reed's church. Every night for weeks there had been much preaching, singing, praying, and shouting, and some very hardened sinners had been brought to Christ, and the membership of the church had grown by leaps and bounds. Then just before the revival ended, they held a special meeting for children, "to bring the young lambs to the fold." My aunt spoke of it for days ahead. That night I was escorted to the front row and placed on the mourners' bench with all the other young sinners, who had not yet been brought to Jesus.
My aunt told me that when you were saved you saw a light, and something happened to you inside! And Jesus came into your life! And God was with you from then on! She said you could see and hear and feel Jesus in your soul. I believed her. I had heard a great many old people say the same thing and it seemed to me they ought to know. So I sat there calmly in the hot, crowded church, waiting for Jesus to come to me.
The preacher preached a wonderful rhythmical sermon, all moans and shouts and lonely cries and dire pictures of hell, and then he sang a song about the ninety and nine safe in the fold, but one little lamb was left out in the cold. Then he said: "Won't you come? Won't you come to Jesus? Young lambs, won't you come?" And he held out his arms to all us young sinners there on the mourners' bench. And the little girls cried. And some of them jumped up and went to Jesus right away. But most of us just sat there.
A great many old people came and knelt around us and prayed, old women with jet-black faces and braided hair, old men with work-gnarled hands. And the church sang a song about the lower lights are burning, some poor sinners to be saved. And the whole building rocked with prayer and song.
Still I kept waiting to see Jesus.
Finally all the young people had gone to the altar and were saved, but one boy and me. He was a rounder's son named Westley. Westley and I were surrounded by sisters and deacons praying. It was very hot in the church, and getting late now. Finally Westley said to me in a whisper: "God damn! I'm tired o' sitting here. Let's get up and be saved." So he got up and was saved.
Then I was left all alone on the mourners' bench. My aunt came and knelt at my knees and cried, while prayers and song swirled all around me in the little church. The whole congregation prayed for me alone, in a mighty wail of moans and voices. And I kept waiting serenely for Jesus, waiting, waiting - but he didn't come. I wanted to see him, but nothing happened to me. Nothing! I wanted something to happen to me, but nothing happened.
I heard the songs and the minister saying: "Why don't you come? My dear child, why don't you come to Jesus? Jesus is waiting for you. He wants you. Why don't you come? Sister Reed, what is this child's name?"
"Langston," my aunt sobbed.
"Langston, why don't you come? Why don't you come and be saved? Oh, Lamb of God! Why don't you come?"
Now it was really getting late. I began to be ashamed of myself, holding everything up so long. I began to wonder what God thought about Westley, who certainly hadn't seen Jesus either, but who was now sitting proudly on the platform, swinging his knickerbockered legs and grinning down at me, surrounded by deacons and old women on their knees praying. God had not struck Westley dead for taking his name in vain or for lying in the temple. So I decided that maybe to save further trouble, I'd better lie, too, and say that Jesus had come, and get up and be saved.
So I got up.
Suddenly the whole room broke into a sea of shouting, as they saw me rise. Waves of rejoicing swept the place. Women leaped in the air. My aunt threw her arms around me. The minister took me by the hand and led me to the platform.
When things quieted down, in a hushed silence, punctuated by a few ecstatic "Amens," all the new young lambs were blessed in the name of God. Then joyous singing filled the room.
That night, for the first time in my life but one for I was a big boy twelve years old - I cried. I cried, in bed alone, and couldn't stop. I buried my head under the quilts, but my aunt heard me. She woke up and told my uncle I was crying because the Holy Ghost had come into my life, and because I had seen Jesus. But I was really crying because I couldn't bear to tell her that I had lied, that I had deceived everybody in the church, that I hadn't seen Jesus, and that now I didn't believe there was a Jesus anymore, since he didn't come to help me.
By Langston Huges
I was saved from sin when I was going on thirteen. But not really saved. It happened like this. There was a big revival at my Auntie Reed's church. Every night for weeks there had been much preaching, singing, praying, and shouting, and some very hardened sinners had been brought to Christ, and the membership of the church had grown by leaps and bounds. Then just before the revival ended, they held a special meeting for children, "to bring the young lambs to the fold." My aunt spoke of it for days ahead. That night I was escorted to the front row and placed on the mourners' bench with all the other young sinners, who had not yet been brought to Jesus.
My aunt told me that when you were saved you saw a light, and something happened to you inside! And Jesus came into your life! And God was with you from then on! She said you could see and hear and feel Jesus in your soul. I believed her. I had heard a great many old people say the same thing and it seemed to me they ought to know. So I sat there calmly in the hot, crowded church, waiting for Jesus to come to me.
The preacher preached a wonderful rhythmical sermon, all moans and shouts and lonely cries and dire pictures of hell, and then he sang a song about the ninety and nine safe in the fold, but one little lamb was left out in the cold. Then he said: "Won't you come? Won't you come to Jesus? Young lambs, won't you come?" And he held out his arms to all us young sinners there on the mourners' bench. And the little girls cried. And some of them jumped up and went to Jesus right away. But most of us just sat there.
A great many old people came and knelt around us and prayed, old women with jet-black faces and braided hair, old men with work-gnarled hands. And the church sang a song about the lower lights are burning, some poor sinners to be saved. And the whole building rocked with prayer and song.
Still I kept waiting to see Jesus.
Finally all the young people had gone to the altar and were saved, but one boy and me. He was a rounder's son named Westley. Westley and I were surrounded by sisters and deacons praying. It was very hot in the church, and getting late now. Finally Westley said to me in a whisper: "God damn! I'm tired o' sitting here. Let's get up and be saved." So he got up and was saved.
Then I was left all alone on the mourners' bench. My aunt came and knelt at my knees and cried, while prayers and song swirled all around me in the little church. The whole congregation prayed for me alone, in a mighty wail of moans and voices. And I kept waiting serenely for Jesus, waiting, waiting - but he didn't come. I wanted to see him, but nothing happened to me. Nothing! I wanted something to happen to me, but nothing happened.
I heard the songs and the minister saying: "Why don't you come? My dear child, why don't you come to Jesus? Jesus is waiting for you. He wants you. Why don't you come? Sister Reed, what is this child's name?"
"Langston," my aunt sobbed.
"Langston, why don't you come? Why don't you come and be saved? Oh, Lamb of God! Why don't you come?"
Now it was really getting late. I began to be ashamed of myself, holding everything up so long. I began to wonder what God thought about Westley, who certainly hadn't seen Jesus either, but who was now sitting proudly on the platform, swinging his knickerbockered legs and grinning down at me, surrounded by deacons and old women on their knees praying. God had not struck Westley dead for taking his name in vain or for lying in the temple. So I decided that maybe to save further trouble, I'd better lie, too, and say that Jesus had come, and get up and be saved.
So I got up.
Suddenly the whole room broke into a sea of shouting, as they saw me rise. Waves of rejoicing swept the place. Women leaped in the air. My aunt threw her arms around me. The minister took me by the hand and led me to the platform.
When things quieted down, in a hushed silence, punctuated by a few ecstatic "Amens," all the new young lambs were blessed in the name of God. Then joyous singing filled the room.
That night, for the first time in my life but one for I was a big boy twelve years old - I cried. I cried, in bed alone, and couldn't stop. I buried my head under the quilts, but my aunt heard me. She woke up and told my uncle I was crying because the Holy Ghost had come into my life, and because I had seen Jesus. But I was really crying because I couldn't bear to tell her that I had lied, that I had deceived everybody in the church, that I hadn't seen Jesus, and that now I didn't believe there was a Jesus anymore, since he didn't come to help me.
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