04.22.05 - 2:00 am

so i just watched a video of a person being executed. needlessly.

a helicopter was shot down in iraq, and of all the victims that died and burned in the crash, one man survived and ended up a ways away from the crash with what appeared to be a broken foot. laying in the tall grass he quietly says "its broken. help me up. help me up." the iraqis chatter in their dialect and one of them pulls the man to his feet. he hobbles a few feet and turns to the men standing around him. though off camera, one of them obviously raised their gun. the man raises his hand in assurance and confusion, but its no use. two shots are fired into the mans torso, and he falls to the ground where an unnecessary amount of gunfire ends the mans life. laying in the grass, that man probably had no idea he was being helped to his feet most likely by those who shot his helicopter down. he had no idea that they were there looting over the wreckage and smoldering remains of soldiers with a video camera to collect the images as trophies of their abilities. this man is now dead.

look iraqis who just killed that person, youre fucking pathetic. i hope, sometime soon, youll die in the most humiliating of circumstances. i hope, that youll go back to your shitty house somewhere, sit down on the toilet and defecate, only to hear your family outside the door being gunned down mercilessly. and before you even have time to sit up to see what happens, the door to the bathroom is kicked open. there, terrified and anguished over the brutal slaying of your beloved family, you are forced to sit, pants at your ankles, cowering at your own embarrassment. your family died while you were taking a shit. and you died shitting and pissing all over yourself in your bathroom.
i want all of those who beheaded and executed all those involved in this whole iraqi mess to die under equally humiliating and emotionally painful circumstances. i hope when you awake from death, you find yourself not surrounded by warmth and white light, with allahs hand gently on your shoulder. i hope you crack open your bloodshot eyes to find yourself smoldering from the ankles up. your arms and legs spread apart and chained to the most unbearable heat you could ever imagine. i hope your throats burn with thirst, for even one drop, but you will remain there. burning. agonizing. begging for mercy and for release. but there you will remain. your mind flooded with the bodies of those whos life was taken by you. and every day they visit to inflict another wound that refuses to heal, and inflicts nothing but pain, but brings you no closer to release.

and i hope, somewhere along this wall of fire and screams and despair, i hope nestled amongst you iraqis, andrea yates is screaming for mercy. i hope her eye lids are shorn from her face, keeping her eyes forced upon her drowned children who encircle her. who stare without blinking. who stare without eyes. who stare forever.