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gothicsniper27
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Name: Keith Country: United States State: Maryland Birthday: 7/27/1990 Gender: Male
Interests: Friends old recent and still to come.
My best friend Colleen, and all my Straight Forward friends.
All the zanks of course,
Music. MUSIC MUSIC MUSIC.
The Maryland State Boychoir
(which i am proud to me a part of),
Church.Religion is important.
MUSIC.Tryin to start a band.
LAMB OF GOD, RUNDOWN PERISH,
KILLSWITCH ENGAGE,
Ozzy!, Soul EMBRACED,
SHADOW INSURREXION,
Stabbing Westward,
project 86,
Norma Jean,
12 Stones,
Jessi manibusen,
Steve agrisano,
Tony malendez,
evanescence,
dennis the knife,
Shadow Insurrexion,
Lacuna Coil,
Seether,
And hellz lots more Expertise: Music.Prolife and political stances.
Also i try to excell and grow in
knowledge of my church background
The Roman Catholic Church.
PROLIFE! And morals and ethics (not saying im perfect, but i have learned alot about these things) Occupation: Student Industry: Nonprofit
Message: message meEmail: email me AIM: Gothicsniper27
Member Since:
10/8/2004
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| "I Still Believe" These are the words that hung above a picture of Dr.Martin Luthor King Jr. projected on a screen above 400 musicians and famous conductors and speakers last night at the Kennedy Center in Washingdon D.C.
I was blessed enough to be part of this amazing celebration, and to hear speakers and musicians that were so powerful. The event was the 20th annual tribute to Martin Luthor King Jr. One of his only real students (the only class he ever taught had 6 students in it) and also fellow activists was one of the men who were there last night.
It's horrible and yet amazing to hear of the tragedies that were going on in our country in our parents and grandpartens lifetimes. Horrible because they were things that should never happen, but amazing because of the power and might of the people who stood against them, even at the cost of their own life, because they were standing for what was right.
One of the speakers last night said something along the lines of "The measure of a man isn't found where he is in times of comfort, but in times of adversity and contraversy." We heard about how these activists were young, even my age, and getting arrested. How they staged sit-ins in segratated places and were committed to non-violent civil disobedience.
After such a touching and amazing night I was rather suprised to find this. This is the testimony of Alveda King, Dr.King's niece.
Dr. Alveda King is a civil rights activist, speaking out on issues that face society today. She is a minister of the Gospel of Jesus Christ, former college professor and an author. She has served on the boards of numerous community organizations, the Georgia State House of Representatives for four years, and is an accomplished actress and songwriter. Alveda received her honorary Doctorate of Laws from Saint Anslem College and is a Senior Fellow of the Alexis de Tocqueville Institute,
She is the daughter of the late slain civil rights activist Rev. A. D. King and his wife Naomi Barber King and the niece of Dr. Martin Luther King. Alveda is the grateful mother of six children and she is a doting grandmother.
During the years of the Civil Rights Movement, Alveda's family home was bombed in Birmingham, Alabama.
"How Can the Dream Survive if We Murder Our Children?
In the ongoing travesty of the debate over whether abortion and infanticide should be condoned, a voice in the wilderness continues to cry out, "what about the children?" We have been fueled by the fire of "women’s rights," so long that we have become deaf to the outcry of the real victims whose rights are being trampled upon, the babies and the mothers. Of course a woman has a right to decide what to do with her own body. Thank God for the Constitution. Yet, she also has a right to know the serious consequences and repercussions of making a decision to abort her child. Then too, what about the rights of each baby who is artificially breached before coming to term in his or her mother’s womb, only to have her skull punctured, and feel, yes agonizingly "feel" the life run out of her before she takes her first breath of freedom. What about of the rights of these women who have been called to pioneer the new frontiers of the new millennium only to have their lives snuffed out before the calendar even turns?
Oh, God, what would Martin Luther King, Jr., who dreamed of having his children judged by the content of their characters do if he’d lived to see the contents of thousands of children’s skulls emptied into the bottomless caverns of the abortionists pits?
It is time for America, perhaps the most blessed nation on earth to lead the world in repentance, and in restoration of life! If only we can carry the freedom of repentance to its fullest potential. If only America can repent and turn away from the sins of our nation. Abortion is at the forefront of our destruction. Partial Birth Abortion is perhaps the most heinous form of this legal genocide. Direct links connecting abortion and serious conditions such as breast and cervical cancer, emotional disorders and other serious ills must be considered! The only healing and redemption is in the blood of Jesus, blood willingly shed so that we could stand today and cry out for the blood of the unborn that is drenching the land of our children.
What terribly mixed signals we are sending to our society today? We allow and even encourage them to engage in promiscuous sex. Then when their sin conceives, we pretty much tell them, "don’t kill your babies, let our abortion facilities do it for you." We march to cure breast cancer, yet promote one of the biggest contributors. I am a mother of six living children, and I am a grandmother. I am also a post-abortive mother. In the early 1970’s, I suffered one involuntary and one voluntary abortion.
My involuntary abortion was performed just prior to Roe v. Wade by my private physician without my consent. I had gone to the doctor to ask why my cycle had not resumed after the birth of my son. I did not ask for and did not want an abortion. The doctor said, “You don’t need to be pregnant, let’s see.” He proceeded to perform a painful examination which resulted in a gush of blood and tissue emanating from my womb. He explained that he had performed a “local D and C.”
Soon after the Roe v. Wade decision, I became pregnant again. There was adverse pressure and threat of violence from the baby’s father. The ease and convenience provided through Roe v. Wade made it too easy for me to make the fateful and fatal decision to abort our child.
I went to a doctor and was advised that the procedure would hurt no more than “having a tooth removed.” The next day, I was admitted to the hospital, and our baby was aborted. My medical insurance paid for the procedure. As soon as I woke up, I knew that something was very wrong. I felt very ill, and very empty. I tried to talk to the doctor and nurses about it. They assured me that “it will all go away in a few days. You will be fine.” They lied.
Over the next few years, I experienced medical problems. I had trouble bonding with my son, and his five siblings who were born after the abortions. I began to suffer from eating disorders, depression, nightmares, sexual dysfunctions and a host of other issues related to the abortion that I chose to have. I felt angry about both abortions, and very guilty about the abortion I chose to have. The guilt made me very ill.
My children have all suffered from knowing that they have a brother or sister that their mother chose to abort. Often they ask if I ever thought about aborting them and have said, “You killed our baby.” This is very painful for all of us. Also, my mother and grandparents were very sad to know about the loss of the baby. The aborted child’s father also regrets the abortion. If it had not been for Roe v. Wade, I would never have had that abortion, only Jesus can.
My birthday is January 22, and each year, this day is marred by the fact that it is the anniversary of Roe v. Wade, and the anniversary of death for millions of babies. I and my deceased children are victims of abortion, and subsequently the Roe v. Wade decision has adversely affected the lives of my entire family. I pray often for deliverance from the pain caused by my decision to abort my baby. I suffered the threat of cervical and breast cancer, and experienced the pain of empty arms after the baby was gone. And truly, for me, and countless abortive mothers, nothing on earth can fully restore what has been lost, only Jesus can.
My grandfather, Dr. Martin Luther King, Sr., once said, “No one is going to kill a child of mine.” Tragically, two of his grandchildren had already been aborted when he saved the life of his next great-grandson with this statement. His son, King once said, “The Negro cannot win as long as he is willing to sacrifice the lives of his children for comfort and safety.” How can the “Dream” survive if we murder the children? Every aborted baby is like a slave in the womb of his or her mother. The mother decides his or her fate.
I join the voices of thousands across America, who are SILENT NO MORE. We can no longer sit idly by and allow this horrible spirit of murder to cut down, yes cut out and cut away our unborn, and destroy the lives of our mothers. I am very grateful to God for the Spirit of Repentance that is sweeping our land. In Repentance there is healing. In the name of Jesus, we must humble ourselves and pray, and turn from our wicked ways, then God will hear from Heaven and Heal Our Land.
I can only beseech the powers that be to hearken to the voice of the Lord and remember that human life is sacred. By taking the lives of our young, and wounding the wombs and lives of their mothers, we are flying in the face of God. We cannot play God. If we continue down this path of destruction, we will be met at the gates by our own doom. This is the day to choose life. We must live and allow our babies to live. We must end the pain of post-abortion trauma. If the Dream of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. is to live, our babies must live. Our mothers must choose life. If we refuse to answer the cry of mercy from the unborn, and ignore the suffering of the mothers, then we are signing our own death warrants.
I too, like Martin Luther King, Jr., have a dream. I have a dream that the men and women, the boys and girls of America will come to our senses, and humble ourselves before God Almighty and pray for mercy, and receive His healing grace. I pray that this is the day, the hour of our deliverance. May God have mercy on us all."
Just wow.
Between that, and everything I heard last night, I find myself even more convicted in where I stand and what I do.
I only wonder who else is willing to be an actual activist, and not just someone who speaks the words when they feel safe. . .
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| Frail fingers sailed smoothly over the worn ivory keys. A warm breeze sailing smoothly across the room, the warmth of a morning breeze across sands of the nevada desert, a warmth that caressed your bones, but never burned the skin. Beautiful handcarved furniture adorned the comfortable old room. Nothing on the old mans mind, and only a smile on his age-worn face. The sounds of Guilio Caccini's Dona Nobis filled the room. And the world was at peace.
The old man carried no burdons on his heart, no scars from years gone past. He had forgotten them long ago, along with the life and name he had sold for his comfortable little room. All his affairs had been set in order, his wife had been the only thing he was holding onto. Once she was gone , so was his reason for staying. With the promise of his fortune, and only the request of not being diturbed he had purchased this small room with ease. And he had not left it since the day he first came into it.
There was no need, He had everything he could need. A warm fireplace, a beautiful piano, and the peace of knowing his day was soon to come.
And he began again, to play Guilio Caccini's Dona Nobis, like he had done minutes before. The
simple hormonies, the quiet but building chord progression, the slight
changes of the left hand accompaniment, and finally the moment came. He began to sing, the notes he had sang a thousand times before. More
beautiful then any professional , more sincere then any lover, more at
peace then a sleeping child, and more pure then the innocence of a
newborn. A simple tennor voice, with no false vibrato to try to sell the song, He didn't need to, he had no audience.
I do not doubt that this clear and clean voice was God's way of rewarding the old mans faith through all his pain. He had loved her, more then life itself. But it was her time to go, so God gave him his music, and the promise of a beautiful reunion soon to come.
But such the painful memories of loss were far from his mind as he reached the songs beautiful peak. As
he held that note, so high, with such ease, the only thought on his
mind was that of the promised reunion which gave him such peace. He knew she was smiling down on him, he played for her. Guilio Caccini's Dona Nobis Pachem, it was her favorite song, he played it for her.
And
as the song came to its close, the resolve of the melody and harmony,
and the pianissimo after the peaceful decreschendo which lead up to the
crisp cutoff of the final syllable, he knew he was ready. He closed the piano as the final notes ended their sweet lingering in the warm rooms air. And
he smiled as he layed down on his bed. He kissed the ring he had worn
since that day on the altar, that hadn't left his hand since death did
them part. And he smiled, because he knew he was ready.
The memories came flooding back, but this time he was ready. Her sweet touch no longer haunted him, for he would feel it soon. Her sweet scent no longer chased him, he would be wrapped in it soon. And try as they might, those memories could only bring him joy, not pain. the joy of anticipating that beautiful sunrise as the mornings dawn is upon you. And he closed his eyes, and saw her face. It no longer brought pain to his heart, but instead gave it peace. Peace, exactly what he felt as he started to drift off to sleep. He knew he would see the mornings dawn, but not from the window of his small room. No, he knew he would be seeing it from above, with her. And as he smiled at that truth, full of peace, his heart beat its last. | | |
| Despite that last rant nobody commented on, Im pretty good. About to head out to work at panera for 9 hours. this day will make 27 hrs in 3 days. then home to attempt to catch up on some school. During break i'll take the HCC entrance exam. Probably do horrible. People think im smart, im street smart, i have quick wits, im great in conversation. But bookwork ain't my thing, and I get test anxiety. As long as i don't mess it up too bad I can still get in and retake it later. *pray* :-p Works good,boychoir is getting near the Festival of lessons and Carol which you all promised to go to at one time or another but never did. and on Jan 7th the boychoir is singing AT MY CHURCH. and thats a sat at 4:00 pm mass. So yall should come to that. but one way or another. Imma go. work time.
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| If I was computer savvy I would start this blog off with the Garfield strip where Jon is EXTREMELY THRILLED BECAUSE ITS TUESDAY! AND THAT MEANS . . . ITS SOCK PAIRING DAY! Jon gets to clean out his sock drawer! And Garfield makes some witty remark about how pathetic it is that jon gets so happy about that. But im not that computer savy. So no comic strip for you. Do i care? No, cause i've seen it. you lose. But how does this partain to my blog? Well. Because i refolding all my clothes and putting them in my drawers and I found a LOT of my old stuff.. and i started thinking. Who are you wearing?! We have all heard that question when watching the Oscars, Music video awards, Grammy's, and other Red Carpet events. And no matter who you are, or what style you dress, on the Red Carpet, if it looks sexy , its all good. We have seen Christina Agularia (don't care about spelling) go from prep , to clean, to dirty, to gothy, grunge, and everything else. We have seen Gwen Stefani Hit every style, and we have seen Angelina jolie say the craziest things wearing the wierdest stuff. And it doesn't matter in hollywood. Because no matter what they are wearing, they are still given an interview becase they are hott stuff. Why are they hot stuff, BECAUSE WHAT THEY HAVE DONE IN THEIR CAREERS! But look at the "real" non hollywood world. A person can be the BEST person to know, Holy, Wise, Friendly, Caring, Chivalrous, ect ect. But if that person dressed "Goth" or "grunge" are You going to give him the time of day? I bet not. No matter what he HAS DONE, you will still judge on what you first see. For those of you who have known me long enough, you will know Me and my Goth stage. I found all my shirts with sayings on them today. I found my huge bondage pants. I found the chains, I found the rings, I found the bracelets. And i couldn't IMAGINE wearing them. I was horrified at the thought. Not because i didn't like them. but because i felt ASHAMED, and i felt AFRAID at what colleen, steve, ryan, my newer friends, and all my prep friends would think. In a second of wearing them, I KNEW that no MATTER WHAT I HAVE DONE, the second someone saw me in those clothes they would be HORRIFIED. even if they are my cloest friends. WHAT THE FUCK?! What the fuck for TWO reasons. How can EVERYTHING i've done in my recent life be overshadowed by my choice of clothing? HOW PATHETIC! and WHAT THE FUCK to me being AFRAID OF WHAT PEOPLE WOULD THINK!? What has happend to me? I remember a Keith who was comfortable in his own skin. What happend to me? I would tell someone who judged me to go shove a stick up their ass. I wouldn't care. I knew WHO I WAS, and i KNEW WHO GOD MADE ME. And i wasn't afriad of some stairs. Now, in all fairness, i love the way i look lately. I love the new style. But to be afraid of wearing a different style which i still respect and like?! it sickens me. So, i kept all those clothes and put them in my bottom drawer. And then i saw all my funny shirts. The shirts i used to get reactions off of, the shirts that said crazy things and everyone looked forward to reading my next shirt... And I couldn't imagine wearing one of them. The thought made me shiver about how people would react. How i would look. how young and immiture i would be percieved by wearing something i personally found soo funny and such great shirts. Again, i love who i am right now, but i dont know who i am right now. I love the friends, i love the freedom, I love the way im not judged on my appearance. But nobody i meet from a few months ago on will know who i am off of first meeting me. They would NEVER GUESS i used to be goth, so many kids i just meet will immidately start trashing subculture in front of me. It sickens me. Mind you i still do not put myself in with any click. I am not prep. Or anything else for that matter. I am Keith. I just need to figure out in stone who Keith is.. And its scary. I see those kids, the young kids, the kids everyone loves...and i see them wearing outfits that are HORRIBLE, look HORRIBLE, and usually aren't even slightly fashinable. Yet these kids are so totally content. then i see the "dork" kids my age. Who wear the same thing as the aformentioned kids, and still are completely happy and content. And I think how much better i am then them. But then i see them, and they are totally happy. They have REAL friends. And they don't care about others oppinions, but they don't care in a GOOD way. not a prideful way, but a God Given Confidant way. And i realize how low i am compaired to them. I know what reactions I get. I know who likes how i like. I know why people like this new look better. I know when my tasted changed. But despite all what, I don't know What I am supposed to be right now. Im totally lost as to my identity separate from everyone elses oppinions of me. Even my prolife shirts. my "grown up" shirts with statements to make a change, EVEN my pro-life activism in a small part is based off the good reaction i get from people I like when i do it. Mind you it is MY passion and My love. but slightly the reactions and feedback i get fuel my activity within the pro-life movent. So even the one thing I know my life on Gods road is going to deal with, is slightly tainted by my want for acceptance. At the same time, when i saw the pro-life clothes, and the old funny kid clothes, I was so proud to see how much I've changed in a GOOD way. But I still don't know what i've changed into. I know its great that now i can use my clothes to be a witness, but Its sad that i put that over the way i was when i never cared about what i wore.. Its soo sad how everything in my life is at least SLIGHTLY controlled by my need for acceptance and attention... And im really starting to doubt who I am... I'm realling thinking i've become all show, and have no personality left... I'm simply an empty shell, for populairity, for contraversy, for friends laughs, for every other vanity, but I'm still missing knowing my CHRIST-GIVEN identity..And i'll freely admit... Im fucking scared.... | | |
| Goodbye braces. I will not miss you at all. I'm glad you are gone. I will not forget all you did for me. But I'm not sad to see you go. Goodbye
No more braces <--- thats me.
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