Dear Hate, free porn video

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I write things. Poetic things that have deep symbolic and metaphorical meaning, that express the truth in what is going on in the world around you.Things that are easier to manage when seen in a different light. Why? Well, I like to.

But today, I wanted to take a different approach, and offer a wake up call by someone who matters very little in the larger scheme of whatever we're doing in this life. This has been brewing in my head for quite some time, and the narcissistic storm of racist douchebaggary I witnessed today broke the dam. I don't want to talk about the incident specifically, but the issue in general. There are four types of people who probably shouldn't read this:1. The overly sensitive- Those of you who look for things to be offended by are maybe the worst type of people, not only to read this, but in the world. I (and as others should), blame you for why this is still a growing problem. If the truth is as painful as you make it out to be, you should probably go read about how TMZ filmed Lindsey Lohan doing something ridiculous instead. 2. The narrow minded- Those of you who see the world from a scope made solely of your own experiences and inadequacies should probably turn away, because you don't know how to accept someone else's opinion, let alone form one that is based off of any real substance. You argue points by using big words and hoping you're a few credits beyond whomever is listening to your dumb face .3. Those who think, by this point, I'm an asshole- Please, don't let me be the one to pry your eyes open. This will probably have a lot of words, and you may be intimidated by that fact, and would rather watch the movie ... I'm afraid you'll have no such luck. So why not learn something!4. People who think that I'm targeting a specific type of people- I don't discriminate, and those with an iota of intellect (thanks Dreamstate) would know that this isn't bashing anyone at all. This is for the humans.

EARMUFFS! Here comes truth.

It seems as though folks have invited racism into the party we are having here in the 21st century, year 2010. And somehow he has become pretty popular. And he's invited all of his friends! Everything from southern-fried white supremacy, to fender-bending rittle Asian radies, to "murder-your-face-off" scary black guys.The amount of hatred that spews from the cavities of our socialism is alarming. Especially in a society that we all share. I'm sure that this doesn't apply to 90% of you, my friends, that are reading this. But I'm also beyond sure that you know plenty who practice this behavior 90% of the time.Oh, sure, you laugh, he laughs, and Timothy Smith laughs, but all for different reasons. It is obvious that the most powerful effects of modern racism is all in the language. Sure, hate crimes happen, but they can almost always be attributed to something that someone said. Now all this talk of words, and language, and racism points our faces at one word. But we are going to avoid that word, and go for another! The H word! I hate you, I hate talking to that guy, I hate going there, I hate this class, I hate the neighbors, I hate being here, I hate my life...

How bad do you really have it? Sure, you're broke, your girlfriend left you, you have a hundred kids, you have no friends ... whatever. You're alive. That's enough to say "I love you" to somebody ... something, whatever. One thing I've learned in my years of breathing is that when the fan is hit with excrement, people look for someone to point a finger at rather than look for a solution.Hurricane Katrina victims waited an eternity for anyone to actually enforce something useful, but the first thing we heard about is who didn't do their job. All it takes is the tight grip of the hate mongering, fear conjuring media to stab you in the eye with a gullibility knife, and the whole world becomes hooked on the bogus idea that there is a single person behind every event that goes wrong, and at that point, all we can do is point a finger. And what's the first thing that spills out of our loose jaws? "Oh, it was the brown guy!" or "Oh, there wouldn't be crime if they cleaned up THAT neighborhood!" No, you buffoon. It was the guy with the bomb. The guy with the gun. It was the pissed off pharmacist that saw one too many Oxycontin prescriptions without his name on it. The color of that guy is all we see though. And why? Because we've been trained in that way. Your parents tell you to be careful on the bus stops at night, and to not trick-or-treat at that house, but to ask why is never the first thing on your mind. The only thing in your head at that moment is mommy's stranger danger alarm that she programmed into your head since the first time she watched the Fresh Prince of Bel-Air play basketball with people in tank tops. Well mommy, put down your parental controlled remote and put it next to your coasters on your coffee table that was probably bought for way more than it's worth because some short haired girl with piercings told you that it was forged from the last tree in the amazon, and teach your kid that there are people out there that won't look like him, and that they should be treated with the same respect he'd give to your sheltering paranoid image as a parent. Children of all races and creeds are being taught that other children from different walks of life owe them something that they didn't take. I mean, let's be honest ... is a six year old, or for that matter, a twenty year old responsible for slavery? No. Is it appropriate to have your six year old not play with the black boy because you saw a liquor store get robbed a thousand blocks from where you're sheltering your life? Absolutely not, and you'd be better off leaving your kid at the playground. At least that way little Timmy can choose to have a fighting chance at whatever it is you've already desensitized him from, and if he's lucky he will manage to find an opinion of his own in that lonely sandbox. And surely this isn't just a black/white thing, although it is the most prevailing and blatant type of racism in American't. Every culture that decides to pour themselves into our mixing pot experiences some form of backlash. Language is polluted all the way down to dialog. It takes a lot less than someone getting stabbed in the neck to keep racism alive. Why did it have to be the Asian guy that did the [insert mundane daily activity here]? Why can't it just be the guy? Be honest with yourself, when you're talking to people of your race, about people of your race, you don't use those color coded lacerations. Why? Because it doesn't matter. Every day I hear the same thing. "The white boy in the class does this." or "The black guy in the school does that". It's nothing malicious or intentional, it's just an intellectual predisposition to include those words. But the point that is being missed is that the story would be the same without them. What does it matter if the black boy, white boy, czechoslovakian paraplegic, whatever, did his laundry? It doesn't. The effects of these small micro-slurs are admissible, but the unnecessary implementations are posed. Saying such things in normal conversation just shows how distant we've become from one another. Maybe I'm just being dramatic and overly observant, but I think I'm on to something here. But who am I, after all ... just the white boy who wrote that thing about those people.

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Dear Husband

Hello dear husband, she said, never looking back. Could you come over here and take that down from the shelf for me? She pointed to a bottle of bleach on a high shelf. It wasn’t his fault that George had just gone out to the hardware store, telling Jim, his teenage helper from down the street, that he’d be back in an hour, maybe two. Why don’t you straighten up the workbench in the basement? He’d told the boy. So Jim went down to the basement and as he passed the door to the laundry room, Cindy...

1 year ago
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Dear Cum Captain Quentin Stocking

This morning I popped down to Pret a Manger to meet up with my good friend Albert Einstein for a slice of red velvet cake with a vanilla butter-icing topping and a medium cappuccino on the side. "Albert Einstein," I hear you say in a somewhat incredulous tone. Yes, Albert Einstein! THE Albert Einstein. I gave you all a perfect opportunity to invite me out for a yummy little Pret-fest back in Dr Flappyduck, but did any of you offer? Did you fuck, so it's just me and Albie yet again for our...

Crossdressing
3 years ago
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Dear Diary

March 15 A disturbing development — my son has started staring at my breasts and sometimes "accidentally" touches them. He asks me questions that show he knows very little about female anatomy. I believe ignorance about sexuality can lead to major problems in life, so I got an illustrated book about the human body, and we sat down together with it. The book made me realize I didn't know all that much myself, but more than him at least. My problem is that now he wants me to show him. I point...

4 years ago
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Dear Prudence

"Cut and print it," the booming voice of the Director carried across the sound stage. The four actors on the set, a depiction of a typical mid-American household, froze in place. They had been at it for over an hour now, trying to finish a scene that seemed plagued by one glitch after another. The Director paused for a moment more, then said to their relief, "Okay people, that's a wrap for today." "Thank God," Brooke Hudson said to herself, thankful to get out from under the hot...

2 years ago
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Dear World

As the curtains drew back they reveled the big white screen. Darcy squirmed in her seat a little. She hated the seats at the theatre just as much as she hated the previews. Although they did give her plenty of time to reflect on everything that her mind was still trying to process. This week had been really hard on her fragile soul. Sitting on both sides of her was her really good friends. Voices in her head were constantly asking…do they know? The voices were very persistent and just...

2 years ago
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Dear Brother

DEAR BROTHER By GENEVA A young woman, Louise, is offered the chance by her rich brother to take revenge on a former seducer. She accepts and their scheme is successful, but she begins to have second thoughts. The background of this story is that of my three earlier stories 'Pretty Edith,' 'Plaything' and 'Remodelled', but written from the point of view of the character Louise. START I stared glumly at the road ahead as I turned onto the exit from the airport heading to the...

2 years ago
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Dear Diary4

I know it has been a while since I have written you. I have to admit, I have missed you. all the secrets you and I share. You know so much, and yet I feel it is because I can confide in you that I push the limits of morality. To what end does this stop? Are you destined to find your way into the hands of those who would ruin me? Or perhaps I am to go on in this fashion forever, going deeper and deeper into the rabbit hole. It really doesn't matter, does it? No matter the outcome, it is clear...

1 year ago
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Dear Diary2

I know it has been a while since I have written you. I have to admit, I have missed you. all the secrets you and I share. You know so much, and yet I feel it is because I can confide in you that I push the limits of morality. To what end does this stop? Are you destined to find your way into the hands of those who would ruin me? Or perhaps I am to go on in this fashion forever, going deeper and deeper into the rabbit hole. It really doesn't matter, does it? No matter the outcome, it is clear...

1 year ago
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Dear Diary Ch 01

The last time I remember having used or even seen my old diary was about four years ago, after my husband and I got married and found a new home. It was a new start for me, I did not feel the need to have to mark down every single event of my married life. I was on a path into a new territory, and I would remember everything. Every minute, day, and occurrence, every happy moment, probably every bad moment, too, everything would get imprinted in my memory. Or so I thought. Years went by and I...

1 year ago
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Dear Diary

12:45 PM Dear diary, its Austin again. Nothing new to report, except that I got stood up once again. Seems she had some important meeting that she had to attend. Her last words to me were, ‘Don’t wait up’. I guess it’s pretty obvious this is going to take all day and now my plans are wasted. It’s not so much the meeting as much as the timing. She knew I had this day planned. She didn’t know what I was planning, but she knew it was planned none-the-less. So here I am, writing to you once...

1 year ago
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Dear Diary 3 her

Dear Diary,Terri's parents arrived today, needing somewhere to stay on their way to their holidays. Bugger. Was hoping to have a nice night of passion with Colin. But we ended up going al fresco instead, and I'm sure someone was watching us. bloody certain of it. But I'm getting ahead of myself...Colin arrived, just as I was putting the kettle on. How he does it, I'll never know; it's like he's got radar for the kettle. I hugged him, gave him a peck, and filled him in on the situation.We dished...

2 years ago
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DEAR GRANDPA

Dear Grandpa, it’s been a week since I have last seen you, and I can’t tell you how much I miss you. Our long walks in the woods, and talking about our wonderful loving family. But more then missing see your handsome face each day, I miss waking up in your arms every morning after a night of wonderful love making.I now know why mom send me to you, she wanted me to have the same kind of love that you give her, when she was my age. A man that would show me how to love. I will always hold the time...

4 years ago
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Dear Diary Entry 6 Avenging My Best Friend On Her Wedding Day

Dear Diary, That day, my eyes were closed slightly. Lips open, welcoming his sweet mouth to kiss me. Both my arms were encircling his muscular body. We both were lying down on the long dining table naked. Both cuddled up cozily. I was literally pinching his shoulder, unable to hold myself steady from all the sex. My breasts were already loosened from all the pinching and pressing. His right hand was cupping my left boob and his left hand was holding my head in the back, pulling me closer...

Incest
3 years ago
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Dear Diary

Dear Diary, I am typing this now as I’m watching my sweet hubby fucking my daughters. I took a break just now from giving a prolonged blowjob to my husband for almost 20 minutes and the bottom part of my tongue is aching from it. I wanted to relax for a bit before joining in the action, drink some water, and I also needed to give some time to my daughters to enjoy as I’m not selfish enough to have the fun all by myself. My younger daughter has already started to complain about me, blaming that...

Incest
1 year ago
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DEAR DIARY

Dear DiarybySion Sierra©I was asked to write this story by a friend. I do hope that you like it. I would appreciate any feedback you would care to give.Chapter 1I shouldn't have done it, but I had to. My daughter was acting even weirder after her Eighteenth birthday. It was only a month ago, I just figured she just thought she was a full blown adult. So here after I heard her scream she was leaving for school, I ran downstairs to give her money for her lunch. She was already gone. I entered the...

1 year ago
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Dear Dirty Diary part 17

Dear Dirty Diary In the second week of October, a furnace inspector informed Louise we needed a new fuel oil tank and pointed out that the current furnace could never heat our attic apartment. A heating contractor quoted $15,800 for a new high efficiency unit with central air conditioning. The bed and breakfast income had been nominal at best for our first season so we had a situation on our hands. Neither Doug nor I wanted to forsake our spacious attic for the cramped but warm guest rooms...

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