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J Hill

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About J Hill

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    frog
  • Birthday 09/24/1955
  1. J Hill

    Selfish Suggestion

    (Snippet of thought as I walk through the snow) :badcomp: So glad to hear, the thoughtful way you're thinking. You called to say, you think I think too much. Some days, these days I wish I was still drinking. Your flaw, I say, is thinking not enough. I missed a mark to match your expectation, and now you get to place a blame on me... (to be continued?) :haveabeer:
  2. J Hill

    The Sound

    ...just another work in progress... You're playing with my heart You've torn it plain apart, and thrown it all away. Yeah, that was just today. So I'm not doing well, the truth is I'm in Hell, except this sound I found, might just turn my life around.... Hey, have you heard the music the wind makes? At the end of all of your mistakes... through the trees on a summer's day? Oh hey, when you're down on your knees and the tears drop, if you listen you can hear the wind stop, and the sound of a better day. So hey, can you hear the magic a word makes? At the end of your rope and the string breaks, from a stranger who will catch your fall? I'll be that friend; I can't tell you that I'll never hurt you, but I promise I'll never desert you, and I'll be here, to the end. I am that sound, if you're down with no one else around. With your back to the wall, another bad choice; listen close and you may hear my voice.
  3. this poem was inspired by a short story by Etgar Keret......and a little by V. Woolf I used to have a magic fish, I even named it Linnie. It didn't have a last name though, 'cuz that would just be silly. I kept it in a pickle jar; we talked while I did dishes. I used to have a magic fish, It really had three wishes. Don't you ride a bike, that has a broken sprocket, and don't ever go swimming with rocks in all your pockets. Never dine on bitterness, even when it tastes delicious. Further, never tell an inside joke, when on an outdoor phone. And don't go asking for all your wishes, you could end up alone. @2011 JDH *the edit* "You shouldn't dine on bitterness, even if it tastes delicous.... And, don't go ending up all alone, with nothing but three wishes."
  4. J Hill

    haPPy haLLow's eVe!

    Halloween of 2010 Like the ghosts, I’m dead to you. If you ever did look, you only saw through. Won’t hear my voice, can’t take my calls. If you dream of me, do I walk through the walls? I was eleven believed in a heaven I never once thought I would see. Six in the evening the other kids leaving, I fail while just trying to please. The anger is what made you mean. And wish now for the mask unseen. Sometimes in my waiting, I find myself shaking; sometimes do you ever see me? Or, wonder who I was to be. A dream is just something you see. A vain apparition, a mist that is lifting, the last thing I ate, it was peas. I left at a quarter to three. A thing you could never let be . A thin machination, your bad-magination, a vision so fast to see through. My message is feeble, not half-worth the trouble, while vanity certainly calls, too. You hunt through leftovers, I walk though the walls. Silent, a forest bound, great tree falls. While you dream of me, wandering incomplete halls. The same as the ghosts, you don’t answer to. Like a ghost, I’m dead to you. If you went back to look, you’d still only see through. Forever ever-lasting, yet instant to do. Like the ghost, that I am now to you. A vain apparition you can often see through. A faint reflection in memory’s glue. Question my voice, refuse all my calls. As you dream of me, passing through walls. @2010 J Hill
  5. So busy on so many fronts and only lurking. But I wrapped up this lyric and hope to hear feedback... The Way You Say Goodbye When my needs threaten yours you abandon me When you have no further need of me When you’ve told all the lies you’ll lie to me Without ever telling me why That’s just how you say goodbye. Why bother to tell what’s so easy to show No questions to answer you think I should know I’ve wondered for years how you come and you go Without ever telling me why I guess that’s how you say goodbye. The snow is now deep on our long broken road You stay in my mind and the stories I’ve told The hand that once held I still wish I could hold I cry and don’t even know why That’s just how you said goodbye. @2010 J Hill - Underhill Music Inc.
  6. J Hill

    The Distant Evil Future Is Now Here

    Mr. Baloni; It gets, for me, more and more difficult to imagine a non-evil future every day. And so I accept your petty complaints and was intrigued by the expression. EDITORIAL OPINION Our children are the most over-indulged, pampered, materialistically and technically wealthy children in history. They are given so much, but seem often desperate for just a little attention. A parent spoils a child because they can. And not completely (or even mostly) out of love. Guilt and selfishness also contribute to potential disregard of a child’s long term good for immediate convenience. We are all distracted. There are just so many directions to go in. A person can be practically anywhere on Earth in less than a day. Or a person can be everywhere while never leaving the house. And yet so many seem to be lacking in any strong single purpose. It sometimes seems like 20 is the new 10 (btw I am a father of four; 22 – 20 – 18 and 4, so I speak from some experience). Many young people today have every tech toy plus are almost continually virtually network connected. They are crassly, massively pandered to constantly by marketers but seem sometimes very alone, afraid and poorly equipped to deal with the harsh realities (or even many of the inconvenient bumps) along the road of their adult life. This has, probably, all been going on throughout all time. The anguished screams of alternating shock, rage and resent as little birds everywhere are pushed from their whole worlds i.e. little nests and the coddled come of age. And, so it may be the result of my own age, it seems louder today than ever before. Tony, I apologize now because I fear you may take this as a long rant against your work or you personally. It is neither. More just a long rant in general. Your lyric is well written. It could be about you personally or emblematic of a certain age adverse, youth obsessed, in many ways child like, quality of culture in a broader metaphoric sense. Of course, the child and the adult are the same. The same person, of a different age. But they are also opposites in many regards. Your writing seemed, to me, possibly accurate in a different way than written at points, too. For instance, you preface by making a giant corporation the symbol of adult evil in a childishly innocent, for the most part, world. Following, the bewildered and beleaguered youth (“a 20 year old faceâ€), seems very dazed (but still drinking) by some kind of very grown up reality. He pleads allowance as excuse to his youthful naïve indiscretion by reminding of the all-condoning nature of young Innocence, now spoiled by a rude imposition of responsibility. Back to the preface, when the party being cheated (the company here) attempts to be restituted, the prefacer judges them “evilâ€. In this way the cheater becomes an innocent victim and the company is labeled the convenient villain. Also, in your very clever line about magic and tricks; might it not be that the ‘trick’ pulled was in childhood? An unrealistic indulgence lavished, mainly for diversion, creating the illusion of ‘magic’ and thus, temporarily, rendering the subject practically unable to behold and claim the trick of the real “magic†of responsible adulthood. Again, maybe all this is just a part of what old people have been saying to young people forever. Don’t get me wrong, I liked your tune! I really did.
  7. :/omininetB:/*encapsulated^scene987if^ManUDex/This_Is_U_Now_~Push:\â€_Look@UNowâ€!â€_Push_Button/:~accept422day:\/code] *cont.addpush7.redir2* There are really only four. The populace believes any number of incredible numbers tossed its way. But four is the true number of successful modification classes. How do I know?
  8. J Hill

    R1 2 Claym, 4 Glory U Seek!

    I will attempt a brief translation. Apologies for anything misconstrued. This is the third part (chapter) of a sci-fi book I'm working on, in non-book form, called "The Empaths". I did try to explain a little of my original motivations in a previous post here. My hope (probably foolish) is to present the material eventually in some digital, www and multi-media sort of way. Web links, screen shots, viral videos, that sort of thing. I know, crazy idea. The subject line of this post translated is "Run to Claim for Glory You Seek!". This is only the beginning, again. I hope the pertinence of the title will become more clear at some point. Here, the first few lines should have been in quotes, maybe, because they are the barely conscience thoughts of one of the main characters. The second part is a screen shot of an imaginary web message from an imaginary land. The third meant to convey some idea of this so-called world's state (someday complete with video I hope). BTW; you are right, in a way, I do like puzzles.
  9. While I was young, you were so small. You held me up, I watched you fall. The things you said the moments all, were gone so fast but last so long. [code ] un\secured_space_missing/emma954/blocked
  10. Sometimes I just don’t think. Thoughts continue, in my mind, coming and going. I just stop organizing and evaluating. I just stop thinking about them. Sometimes I just don’t feel. Feelings continue unabated to wash over my soul. I just stop denying or accepting. I just stop caring about them. My name is Marnyoue. On the Third Day of each Quarter, the Empaths here gather at the Central Reproduction Lab in Seventeen Nuham City. The clinicians and, especially, the technicians are working past the point of stress and are dissatisfied by their compensation. Deeper, they are very confused and conflicted by ramifications of their work. This is why I excuse their impersonal manner and brusque surliness as I provide insemination. It is also here that I sometimes see Emma. Emma. Who with just a momentary glance from across a crowded gathering room, sees straight into my soul. She knows me more wholly in that one instant, than I will ever know myself. Emma. Who seems oblivious to personal discomfort or selfness as she gives freely her most precious genes and egg. In this ordained but misconceived scientific societal attempt at conception. I know the silly and outdated notion of wishing is irrational and highly discouraged by The Order. But as I sleep all wishes are freed in my dreams. She waits there to meet me at nite. And, I would never admit, but sometimes by day, I let go the thinking and tracking my work while silently, secretly, releasing all emotional restriction, and give in to my wishes for Emma. And there you are. And here I go. I know you well. Me? I just don’t know. "The Empaths" @2010 JDHill
  11. J Hill

    The Empaths

    Lea, You may be weird (so what's so great about 'normal'?), but you seem pretty lovable 2me! I’m a litttle weird too, let the world know it now! I like the way you took it. And it is, just as you describe, as isn’t almost everything? More or less, telepathic. Because, true empathy maybe only occurs in a very psychic sense. And today’s web-driven/given to narcissistic urge culture, does hold parallels.
  12. J Hill

    The Empaths

    Thanks for the notes. This is one of the good/bad points about the web. I get an idea and in my initial rush of excitement, present a somewhat confusing fragment in hopes of a little instant feedback. This is such a case. I have been doing some reading recently on Williams Syndrome, a curious and rare genetic mutation. Those with the syndrome share common physical traits such as an 'Elfin' facial structure. They are outgoing, verbal and social to the point of lacking all fear of strangers. They are highly attuned to visual and auditory stimuli often to the degree of becoming overwhelmed. They have practically no attention span and are said to be among the most empathetic people on earth. This reading triggered my idea for a science fiction storyline set in a future post human cloning society, where most people have lost the ability for empathy altogether. The powerful members of this society have their own personal empaths, while the more common members pay for the empathy they lack/crave over the net-work. Again, this is still really in the 'idea's idea' stage. And as such, probably better kept to myself All that exists for now is just a sketchy story outline and this fragment I present. The first part is a sort of 'net-work solicitation/commercial'. And the 2nd, the words/thoughts of the first main character. It's true, ideas are usually better developed fully before presentation. The web's scale and ease tempt me strongly to share to quickly sometimes. I apologize for any confusion. J Hill
  13. J Hill

    This Is Our Shelter

    Snake-Breath Tadpole; There's a conflict you writ, I feel hit over the head with. What is it? I like this to a certain extent. You get close to sin then back off again. Otherwise, better written than never said (or is that the visa-versa)? It's you who will put forth the words!
  14. J Hill

    The Empaths

    The Empaths are always on-line. They take what you’re feeling and relax your mind. You’re due an exciting free time. What’s spending a few twin-dimes, a couple of times, to harbor among the empaths? We. And, that’s to say, others and me. Do for a fee, set feelings virtually free. We. We can’t help but see. But don’t ever say I ever said that. I even tried one time to flee. Like without you, I could ever track me. It is your blessing and, who cares, my curse. Are you that one who knows better from whose worse? I crave every connection, you're looking just for reflection. While I’m doomed to have none of my own. Oh well, it’s time for the few to hit the dome. Clouds will cover more than one sun. And nobody knows like an empath. @2010 radiowrite
  15. This one name checks at least 9 US cities, several states, plus Rome and China. Probably the only song ever written to reference Bloomington Ind. Sulfur to Sugarcane - Elvis Costello
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