Swing...creeeeaaak...push...swing.....creeeeak...push..

Some one I know deep inside loves to swing.

She went up to the swing even though she knew her break would be over in a few minutes and mounted the swing and she pushed her chuck taylors in to the ground and threw her head back feeling the breeze flow through every hair on her skull. She felt god was with her. She knew god was with her. Every thing went silent except for her and the swing which sang: creak creak creak. And her sneakers pushing in to the ground. She reached back and ruffled her bun making all her hair fall out. She swung back and forth. She could feel all the air and magic in the world with her. She was a star of many stars but glowing through the glass. She let go of the swing and felt air push her back and forth. She stopped pushing against the ground and stopped to a tap. For those seconds it was as though she felt as though she was relaxed and floating.
Then she grunged her feet in to the ground again and flowed a few secounds again, glowing and flowing.
She tapped the ground once more before jump off the swing and landing...

That some one is me:).

Perfect

No perfect. No! No! No!
No one is perfect when will man kind get to know that!?
I just can't believe some people think and show that they are "perfect" no one is perfect.
No man is perfect I mean. God I think is perfect. Man is not perfect.

I hope some one realize this before the earth is dust.