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Today was like every other day. It was so terribly long and so terribly dreary. I fear these feelings will never end. I’ll always feel so dark, feel so hopeless. Sometimes all I want is for it to end. For all of it to end, for all of my thoughts to end. I despise the way that always comes to mind. But I feel so lost, feel so hopeless. If something would just work. But nothing has worked. Nothing can fix this. These feelings will pass. These days won't feel so endless... or so absolutely heavy. Just give it some time. Just give it some hope... and some belief. The ‘happy pills’ will work. The doctor says they'll help... they'll help it go away. Just dump the pill in your hand. Let yourself place the little white thing on your tongue... Let yourself throw your head back and swallow. It'll make this better. It should make me feel better.
Everything has changed! The world is so bright— The world is so loud! I don’t know how I never noticed! The sun is so warm— The grass is so green! I feel so awake! I feel so content— I feel so happy! It’s so strange! I’m not anxious— I’m not overthinking! I guess those pills really worked! I think I’m really getting better— I think I’m really going to be happy!
Don't you just hate it when your grandmas always complaining about things getting stuck between her false teeth, like my foreskin?
Why doesn't bread like warm weather?
It gets toasty!
Your eyebrows are far from home just like your dad.
The moment came. The starter dropped his red flag. "They're away!"
Not for one second did Agba need to hunt for Lath in that flying stream of horseflesh. He did not even look for the scarlet and white stripes of the jockey's body-coat. His eyes were fixed on the littlest horse, the littlest horse that got away to a bad start!
The field was far out in front. The big horses were whipping down the steep slope to Devil's Dyke, skimming along the running gap, leaping up the opposite bank and across a long flat stretch. They were beginning to bunch, making narrow gaps. Lath was coming up from behind. He began filling in the gaps. He went through them. He was a blob of watercolor, trickling along the green turf between the other colors.
For a brief second the horses were hidden by a clump of hawthorn trees. Agba's knees tightened. He felt Sham quiver beneath him, saw white flecks of sweat come out on his neck. It was well the grooms were there to hold them both!
The horses were coming around the trees now. The golden blob was still flowing between the other colors. It was flowing beyond them, flowing free!
In full stride, Lath was galloping down the dip and up the rise to the ending post. He was flying past it, leaving the "lusty" horses behind.
"The little horse wins!"
"Lath, an easy winner!"
"Lath, son of Godolphin Arabian, wins!"
People of all ages and all ranks clapped their hands and cheered in wild notes of triumph.
Agba never knew how he and Sham reached the royal stand. But suddenly, there they were. And the Earl of Godolphin was there, too.
"I am pleased to give," Queen Caroline was saying in her sincere, straightforward manner, "I am pleased to give and bestow upon the Earl of Godolphin, the Queen's Plate."
Everyone could see it was not a plate that she held in her hands at all. It was a purse. But only Agba and the Earl knew how much that purse would mean to the future of the horse in England. The Earl looked right between the plumes in the Queen's bonnet and found Agba's eyes for an instant. Then he fell to his knees and kissed the Queen's hand.
A hush fell over the heath. The Queen's words pinged sharp and clear, like the pearls that suddenly broke from her necklace and fell upon the floor of the stand. No one stooped to recover them, for the Queen was speaking.
"And what," she asked, as she fixed one of her own purple plumes in Sham's headstall, "what is the pedigree of this proud sire of three winning horses?"
Agba leaned forward in his saddle.
There was a pause while the Earl found the right words. "Your Majesty," he spoke slowly, thoughtfully, "his pedigree has been...has been lost. But perhaps it was so intended. His pedigree is written in his sons."
How the country people cheered! An unknown stallion wearing the royal purple! It was a fairy tale come true.
The princesses clapped their hands, too. Even the King seemed pleased. He puffed out his chest and nodded to the Queen that the answer was good.
Agba swallowed. He felt a tear begin to trickle down his cheek. Quickly, before anyone noticed, he raised his hand to brush it away. His hand stopped. Why, he was growing a beard! He was a man! Suddenly his mind flew back to Morocco. My name is Agba. Ba means father. I will be a father to you, Sham, and when I am grown I will ride you before the multitudes. And they will bow before you, and you will be King of the Wind. I promise it.
He had kept his word!
For the first time in his life, he was glad he could not talk. Words would have spoiled everything. They were shells that cracked and blew away in the wind. He and Sham were alike. That was why they understood each other so deeply.
The Godolphin Arabian stood very still, his regal head lifted. An east wind was rising. He stretched out his nostrils to gather in the scent. It was laden with the fragrance of wind-flowers. Of what was he thinking? Was he re-running the race of Lath? Was he rejoicing in the royal purple? Was he drawing a wood cart in the streets of Paris? Or just winging across the grassy downs in...
Roses are red, violets are blue, I tell you, you look pretty, but all you do is look like a poo.
Digga D, I'm a well known bandit, bandit. Had a new mash, just landed. Jheez, cop it, chop it, sand it, hand it. The verbal ting I can't stand it. Wife and two, got tanned when I banged it. Mad ting. Got a conspiracy case in the silliest Place, they're saying that I planned it, damn it. Back on a Feltham landing. You ain't been in the hood like Robin. I ride in hoods tryna leave man red (Crud). The sweets are goldy, yola drops and lots of dred (Maud). No porkies, pepper them pigeons, they chase this ped. Gyal tryna give man noddy, She ain't got balls in her tongue that's dead.
I walked into the party and the host asked me if I would like a slice of pie.
I responded "yes," and he said: "okay, 14159."
Abortion isn't murder, it's more like backspacing a typo.
Anime is good, like for yes, dislike for no. Comments for thoughts.
Your hairline looks like the Batman symbol.
Why did the orphan like milk?
Because their parents went to get milk and never came back!
Dear Hearing People,
We, deaf people, ain’t dead. We can use our hands to talk, eat & fist your face to give you some 💡 awareness that we can understand you 💯 meanwhile we laugh at you 🤡 We can even dance via vibration through music.
Do you know the song w lyric like this 👇 *white b.... accent: Ohhh.. MY God BECKY.. L👀k at her butt. IT is SO BIG. *BIG BEAT DROP* I...LIKE...BIG...BUTT...I cannot LIE 👻 I promise we ain’t ghosting around - Brittany Rose.
"Why am I ugly?"
Google would like to operate your camera.
I talked to your doctor. He said you wasn’t going to make it because your stretch marks look like pieces of bacon.
So I was at a restaurant and I really hit it off with the waitress, so one thing led to another and I'm at her place and she was really nice at the IHOP but when I was there with her she was all like "ahhh! what are you doing!?!?!? how did you get in my house?!?!?" and then she punched me and I'm the one who ended up in prison.
My cat's breath smells like cat food.
Child: Goodnight Mommy. Goodnight Daddy. Goodnight Grandma. Goodbye Grandpa!
Dad: Wait, why are you saying that?
Child: I just felt like it.
The next day, the Grandpa is dead.
Dad: That's just a VERY scary coincidence.
Child: Goodnight Mommy. Goodnight Daddy. Goodbye Grandma.
Dad: Wait, why are you saying that?
Child: I just felt like it.
The next day, the Grandma is dead.
Dad: That's just a VERY scary coincidence.
Child: Goodnight Mommy, Goodbye Daddy!
Dad: Oh no. If I survive until tomorrow, everything will be okay!
Survives until tomorrow.
Dad: Whew! That was nice! *Goes to house*
Mom: Honey! I was so worried about you! The mailman just dropped dead on our porch!
(If you don't get it, the mailman is the biological father)
Can't anyone relate to this? BEAT WATERSHARKY!!! -Oops!-By- Air Attack Productions and Yung Gravy-Ayy, supercalifragilisticexpiali dope shit Supercalifragi lick my ex be on some ho shit Superman, I get dem bands but ain't gon' buy you roses Super-duper get them cougars, took my wrist and froze it Super-duper hoes Y'all got Oompa Loompa hoes I ain't never knew ya hoes Prolly still ran through 'em, though.
Oh, wait, wait, I, I do know your ho? You talkin' 'bout, you talkin' 'bout Tracy? Nah, you mean like, like, Tracy with the ass? Tracy with the, with the Honda? Shit, well.
Oops, baby. Fuck up on your bitch, like oopsy daisy. Never knew that was your boo, baby. Hit her five times in the coupe, Mercedes, whoopsie daisy. Oops, baby. Gravy hit my bitch, yeah, whoopsie daisy. I just tryna hit, it's my duty, baby. Sippin' on the goose, like Boosie, baby. Yeah, I said oops, baby. Fuck up on your bitch, like oopsy daisy. Never knew that was your boo, baby. Hit her five times in the coupe, Mercedes, whoopsie daisy. Oops, baby. Gravy hit my bitch, yeah, whoopsie daisy. I just tryna hit, it's my duty, baby. Sippin' on the goose, like Boosie, baby.
Lil' bitch, I'm happy and I know it so I clap them fuckin' cheeks, yeah I'm happy and I show it to your momma in the sheets And I'm happy she's a freak ho, happy so my teeth glow Yeah, my bitch elite, I be clapping every week My neck, my back, got your momma on my sack My checks, my racks, it's the return of the motherfuckin' mack And I stay with the pack, though. Clap, clap, then I'm out the backdoor. Lil' Pillsbury, I stack dough. Walkin' with a limp, like a crack ho.
Yeah, I said oops, baby. Fuck up on your bitch, like oopsy daisy. Never knew that was your boo, baby. Hit her five times in the Coupe, Mercedes, whoopsie daisy. Oops, baby. Gravy hit my bitch, yeah, whoopsie daisy. I just tryna hit, it's my duty, baby. Sippin' on the goose, like Boosie, baby. Yeah, I said oops, baby. Fuck up on your bitch, like oopsy daisy. Never knew that was your boo, baby. Hit her five times in the Coupe, Mercedes, whoopsie daisy. Oops, baby. Gravy hit my bitch, yeah, whoopsie daisy. I just tryna hit, it's my duty, baby. Sippin' on the goose, like Boosie, baby.
Knock, knock.
Who's there?
Who.
Who who?
You sound like an owl.