MuttMix

My name's Ronnie. I am a six year old telling you about what happened to him when he was five. How I got away from a bad place & went to a good place. The bad place was this daycare, called Paxton. It had all these ugly, old women running it (an a few really nasty young ones, too.)  Most of them didn't like me because I didn't smile or play with the other stupid kids. One woman did like me, though (I think her name name was Katie). Said she knew me. Like I'd been to her house or something. Always smiling & waving at me going "Hi Ronnie!"    I didn't like it. She reminded me of all those dumb relatives at Christmas who say the love

Concoctions to drink I ask why Pills to swallow I ask why Tubes to insert I ask why Limbs to lose I ask why A bed to be confined in I ask why My only answer? To keep you alive

Once, there was a woman Who found herself at a crossroads The classic crossroads One leading left The other leading right (Before dismissing this story Try reading it all the way Through) The Left road promised A life of self-hatred being  tempered by self-righteousness All under the guise of Making the world a better place The Right road promised a life of subservience being tempered by hectoring "others" Which road did this woman take? The one she made by herself.

What is the purpose of the mind? To keep it full? With facts, logic, and rationality? Or dreams, aspirations, and creativity? Is it merely a balancing act? Or is about finding harmony? What is the purpose of the mind?

So you contributed You made someone else feel inferior unloved and hated You caused a little more Pain and suffering all without much effort Why? To laugh? to feel superior? For your own temporary satisfaction You gave another human being life long problems.

I am evil. Because of my heritage. I am evil. Because of my gender. I am evil. Because of who I love. I am evil. Because of where I live. I am evil. Because of my income level. I am evil. Because of my religion. I am evil. Because of my occupation. I am evil. Because you said so.

I see the bag That holds the body Of the young woman A prostitute by trade who hated me Because I arrested her So many times I told her "Stop coming here!" "These men aren't safe!" She didn't listen Now she's gone I couldn't save her Why didn't she listen?

-I'm living in some former British Colony, in modern times. Every so often a female voice on a loudspeaker/siren says "Sgt _____ (I can't remember the name) is headhunting, please take cover" and I have to duck & hide. This happens exactly three times in my dream. On the third time, I get a tiny glimpse of the man's face. He's wearing some sort of mask that's a cross between a wooden "jungle" type & Micheal Myers kind.  I start to panic because I think he's seen me. And that's when I wake up. The strangest thing about my dream is the fact that it seemed like it was perfectly normal for me to try and hide from this headhunter. Like it