sábado, 15 de noviembre de 2008

5 year madness

lynch
Chief John J. Moslow
Amherst Palice Department
500 John James Audubon Parkway
Amherst, New York 14228
(716) 659-1322

"I, Jeremy M. Perkins do hereby state and depose that the following statement is given of my own free will and accord.
[...] My Mom was in the kitchen painting. She paints on glass as a hobby. When I got out of the shower I saw that my Mom was on the phone in the kitchen. I went into the kitchen and took a pointed knife around 12 inches long with a brown handle. I got this from a drawer to the left of the sink. We have about 10 of these knives, they may be steak knives. I held the knife in mi right hand behind my back and she hung up the phone. I tried to slit my wrists after the shower with a utility knife but I wouldn't die so I decided to do my Mom in instead. I pushed her into her bedroom downstairs and stabbed her in her chest and right arm. She was screaming no don't, Jeremy no don't. I stabbed her about 4-5 times before she fell down. I was using a cross stabbing motion while she was standing. I then stubbed her about 10 more times in the stomach after she fell to the ground. I knew she was a goner. I then tried te cut her right eyeball out but it would not come out. I believed her eyes were evil."

domingo, 2 de noviembre de 2008

The more you try to erase me

woody
A real goddes in my eyes, as long as she took no notice of me. I "never told my love" vocally; still, if looks have language, the merest idiot might have guessed I was over head and ears: she understood me at last, and looked a return -the sweetest of all imaginable looks. And what did I do? I confess it with shame -shrank icely into myself, like a snail; at every glance retired colder and farther; till finally the poor innocent was led to doubt her own senses, and, overwhelmed with confusion at her supposed mistake, persuaded her mama to decamp. By this curious turn of disposion I have gained the reputation of deliberate heartlesness; how undeserved, I alone can appreciate.

EMILY BRÖNTE: Wuthering heigths