Inspiring thread.

Hey tell us an inspiring story so we are not so self obsessed and petty.

I saw a blind fellow today it reminded me of a time when I saw a blind guy actually leading a blind man.

No kidding.

The one blind guy was obviously pretty new to being blind and the other fellow was showing him how to get around with a big smile of satisfaction on his face.

This was maybe 5 years back, everytime I think of it I think about how good I have it, but at the same time I think that blind instructor has it pretty good too.

i was in the store today with my boyfriend and a guy taped him on the shoulder and handed him a card that saod

"im a deaf mute, do you want to buy a ribbon from me?"


what the hell do you say to something like that

Nothing. Cuz he's deaf.

The same thing happened to me in the shop I work at!! Except the card said
"This is from a deaf mute....give any donation"

A blind man, he can see outlines of things, we played pool at the club I work at, and he TOTALLY beat my ass.

So much for that idea.

I always liked the stories about mother dogs that take in and nurse abandoned puppies or kittens from other litters Not sure if this is a story or an idea.. or if is inspirational- BUT it is a sweeter story than the above!!

Yeah, that's a scam.

Hey come on people just cause youre artsy and goth doesnt mean you cant get inspired!!!

I was at karaoke three or four weeks ago and there was an older couple (probably early fifties) there. They were up and dancing. The old guy sang Frank Sinatra to his lady friend. It was the most adorable thing I've ever seen.

Sometimes yes sometimes no. I used to be fluent in ASL and I would always try to talk to them. The ones who would sign back were the ones I would give money to.

I like Alkaline Trio. Does that count?

OMG! SO DO I!
WE R TOTALLY ARTSY GOTHS!
DO U HAVE LIVEJOURNAL?!

Fuck... kill me now... *shudder*

I'm inspired by poetry.

"Strange, well-built young men,
Some of them have exploited your worlds.
They need nothing, and have little desire to put into play
Their splendid abilities and all that they know of your minds.
What sweet juicy strength!
Their eyes have the animal glaze of the summer night;
Red and black, tricolored,
The shine of steel stuck with stars of gold;
Their faces are warped, pitted, blemished, burned ...
The excesses of absolute madnress-
This cruel and tinseled stride!
Some of them are very young... (what would they think of Cherubin?)...
Equipped with frightening voices and several dangerous talents,
They are sent into town to take it from behind,
Tricked out with disgusting luxury.
A paradise of violence, of grimance and madness.
No comparison at all with your Fakirs
And you other entertainers on the stage.
Their suits are improvised in the taste of bad dreams;
They play lovesick songs and tragic plays
Of buccaneers and demigods, wittier and cleverer
Than history or religion ever imagined.
Chinamen, Hottentots, Gypsies, Morons, Hyenas, Molochs,
Ancient insanities, sinister demons,
They distort popular maternal scenes
With bestial positions and caresses.
They play new plays and they sing the songs
Of the spinsters and the knitters in the sun...
Marvelous jugglers, with magnetic acting
They transfigure places and people.

Eyes flame, blood sings, bones begin to swell,
Tears start, and networks of scarlet ripple and throb.
Their jibes and their terror endure for a moment
Or can last for months upon end.

ONLY I HAVE THE KEY TO THIS SAVAGE PARADE!"

Im inspired by poetry too:
From Three Scatalogical Sonnets by Arthur Rimbaud

'Our Assholes are Different'

Our assholes are different from theirs .I used to watch
Young men let down their pants behind some tree,
And in those happy floods that youth set free
I watched the architecture of their crotch.

Quite firm, in many cases pale, it owes
Its form to muscles, and a wickerwork
Of hairs; for girls, the most enchanting lurk
In a dark crack where tufted satin grows.

The touching and wonderful innocence
Of painted cherubs on a Baroque shrine
Is recalled in that cheek a dimple indents...

Oh! If only we were naked now, and free
To watch our protruding parts align;
To whisper- both of us- in ecstacy !

'Hidden and Wrinkled'

Hidden and wrinkled lika a budding violet
It breathes, gently worn out, in a tangled vine
(Still damp with love), on the soft incline
Of white buttocks to the rim of the pit.

Thin streams like rivers of milk; innocent
Tears, shed beneath hot breath that drives them down
Across small clots of rich soil, reddish brown,
Where they lose themselves in the dark descent...

My mouth always dribbles with its coupling force
My soul, jealous of the body's intercourse,
Makes it a tearful, wild necessity.

Ecstatic olive branch, the flute one blows,
The tube where heavenly praline flows,
Promised Land in sticky feminity.


[Edited on Oct 23, 2005 by moonshiner]

*looking blankly in a fixed direction*

"What is it you want? I'm blind. Speak up!"