What Do You Wish You Could Be?

[Richard Stuckmeyer]

(29-01-2013 05:27 AM)earmuffs Wrote:  It's a pity that you weren't the aborted one.

I know, it would have made your life so much easier. It's ok, I wont be around forever....at least here I mean, I will be around somewhere else forever.

[Richard Stuckmeyer]

(27-01-2013 09:18 AM)Vera Wrote:  

(27-01-2013 08:57 AM)Free Thought Wrote:  One looks sad, the another flamboyant, and the last looks reclusive.

Well, I never much cared for flamboyancy, so there you have it.

I also quite like those, glean from it what you will.

That's beautiful, Vera. It's a shame that something so beautiful could be responsible for so much death.

[earmuffs]

You're going to troll elsewhere?

Please do.

[Richard Stuckmeyer]

(29-01-2013 07:05 AM)earmuffs Wrote:  You're going to troll elsewhere?

Please do.

As long as you keep trolling I'll stick around Pancho.

[earmuffs]

Are you saying if I stop you will leave this forum and never return?
Because I highly doubt it.

[Vera]

(29-01-2013 07:05 AM)Richard Stuckmeyer Wrote:  That's beautiful, Vera. It's a shame that something so beautiful could be responsible for so much death.

Actually, you don't really make opium from the field poppy. But even if you did, it is also responsible for alleviating the pain and suffering of millions. Seeing as it is still the best analgaesic we have to this day, I think the good it does outweighs the bad.

[Richard Stuckmeyer]

(29-01-2013 07:39 AM)Vera Wrote:  

(29-01-2013 07:05 AM)Richard Stuckmeyer Wrote:  That's beautiful, Vera. It's a shame that something so beautiful could be responsible for so much death.

Actually, you don't really make opium from the field poppy. But even if you did, it is also responsible for alleviating the pain and suffering of millions. Seeing as it is still the best analgaesic we have to this day, I think the good it does outweighs the bad.

Glad to hear that Vera. My late parents had lots of Poppys on our farm. The were so beautiful. The are also the flower of the disabled vets (I believe) of which my dad was one.

[Vera]

(29-01-2013 08:39 AM)Richard Stuckmeyer Wrote:  Glad to hear that Vera. My late parents had lots of Poppys on our farm. The were so beautiful. The are also the flower of the disabled vets (I believe) of which my dad was one.

I think it symbolises fallen soldiers in general.

You sleep under a field of wheat
neither the rose nor the tulip
watch over you from the shadows nearby,
only a thousand red poppies.

'Along the waters of my creek
I want to see silver pikes
not the bodies of soldiers
carried down by the currents.'

So you said and it was winter
and like the others toward hell
you go sad as those who must
and the wind is spitting snow on your face.

Stop, Piero, stop now
let the wind blow over you
let it bring the voices of those who died in battle
they gave their lives in exchange for a cross.

But you didn't hear, and time went by
you kept marching with the seasons
until you passed the border
on a beautiful spring day.

And while you marched with the soul on your shoulders
you saw a man at the bottom of the valley,
he was in your very same mood
but his uniform was of a different color.

Shoot him, Piero, shoot him now
and then one more time, shoot him again
until you'll see him lie there
until he falls to the ground covered by his blood.

'And if I shoot him in the head or the heart
he'll have only time to die
but I'll have plenty of time to see
to see the eyes of a dying man.'

And while you were being so thoughtful
he turns, he sees you, and he's afraid
and bracing his gun
he doesn't do you the same courtesy.

You fell to the ground without a sound
and realized in a moment
that you will not have time
to ask forgiveness for all your sins.

You fell to the ground without a sound
and realized in a moment
that your life would end that day
that there will be no return.

'My dear Ninetta, to die in May
that takes way too much courage,
beautiful Ninetta, straight to hell
I would have preferred to go in the winter.'

And while the wheat was listening
you held tight to your rifle,
inside your mouth you held your words
too frozen already to melt in the sun.

You sleep under a field of wheat
neither the rose nor the tulip
watch over you from the shadows nearby,
only a thousand red poppies.

[Logisch]

If it could pay for my current hobbies and lifestyle, I'd love to be a professional pilot. Team redbull or something. Who knows For now I'll keep doing what I'm doing.

[The Talking Goat]

So many things. Here's my list.

A famous novelist. A goat farmer. An unemployed rich person that can just travel the world.