“What Would You Rather Be Doing?”
I like pears,
But hate the shape,
I love strawberries,
Despise the green,
I like answers,
A voice says them to me,
Talking is an annoyance,
I’ll just sit and listen,
That’s a great question,
I really don’t care,
It’s not so insane,
You’re the one going that way,
I’d rather write something,
Then punch numbers,
I like to use rock,
Wrap just won’t work,
I’ll use the mighty pen,
And poke you in the eye,
Am I so disturbing?
Or just too comforting?
I won’t be afraid,
Possibly a little uncertain.
>> I…am so…sorry. This is one of the most freaking random things I have ever freaking written and I don’t know why. Well, I was bored in Algebra II, which inspired the first two lines (Giggles had best get the reference there). The rest…I don’t know…just promise not to hit me. If there is to be any blame, it goes to Giggles, she forced me with her…superior…feminine…logic…yes…that sounds good. If you don’t like it, oh well, come up with something better.
Jan 18, 2006
Is There A Difference Between Talking To Hear Yourself Think And Talking To Hear Yourself Speak?
“What Is Wrong With You?”
I am left-handed. There’s something wrong with my right thumb and I don’t know why. I have a minor case of scoliosis. I’ve never had a girlfriend, nor have I kissed a girl (that’s actually kind of sad and not “wrong”). When I’m angry I listen to the angriest music I own and feel better, not madder. I have the firm belief that violence isn’t the answer…it’s an answer. I don’t care if you’re the top of the food chain or the one holding my future, you have to earn my respect. I’ve never read a Harry Potter book in my life, not even a word of it. In fact, I probably read too much science fiction. School is as much as what students’ make of it and as much as what teachers’ make of it. Despite my age and the majority of peoples my age, I think rap sucks and will only submit myself to rock. Though, I also don’t like AC*lightning slash deal*DC. I see no immediate use for cell phones and will refer to them as “human leashes.” I can use the word “deally” for an unspecific noun, and people will still know to what I am referring. Things of eternal memory are worth doing; the rest is pretty much meaningless. There shouldn’t be so many freaking homonyms. I want wings. You don’t have to understand me, just accept. It’s not that I don’t remember being little; I just don’t want to remember being little. I’d rather draw and write rather than do math equations even though I am probably better at math. I forget words at the most inconvenient of times. I could probably learn more from girls. And yes, The Smashing Pumpkins are one of the greatest bands of all times. I don’t see why not.
>> I got this from a girl at school after I made some comment and she looked at me the way girls do when you say something like I did and asked, “What is wrong with you?!?!” So, I answered her as much as I could. Oh, and the first line “I am left-handed,” you have no idea how true that is unless you have read the “Left-handed” article in the wondrous Wikipedia (please don’t hurt me for using your site at a reference). If you have anything else to add, please feel free, all I ask is to keep it clean…please. Thank you.
I am left-handed. There’s something wrong with my right thumb and I don’t know why. I have a minor case of scoliosis. I’ve never had a girlfriend, nor have I kissed a girl (that’s actually kind of sad and not “wrong”). When I’m angry I listen to the angriest music I own and feel better, not madder. I have the firm belief that violence isn’t the answer…it’s an answer. I don’t care if you’re the top of the food chain or the one holding my future, you have to earn my respect. I’ve never read a Harry Potter book in my life, not even a word of it. In fact, I probably read too much science fiction. School is as much as what students’ make of it and as much as what teachers’ make of it. Despite my age and the majority of peoples my age, I think rap sucks and will only submit myself to rock. Though, I also don’t like AC*lightning slash deal*DC. I see no immediate use for cell phones and will refer to them as “human leashes.” I can use the word “deally” for an unspecific noun, and people will still know to what I am referring. Things of eternal memory are worth doing; the rest is pretty much meaningless. There shouldn’t be so many freaking homonyms. I want wings. You don’t have to understand me, just accept. It’s not that I don’t remember being little; I just don’t want to remember being little. I’d rather draw and write rather than do math equations even though I am probably better at math. I forget words at the most inconvenient of times. I could probably learn more from girls. And yes, The Smashing Pumpkins are one of the greatest bands of all times. I don’t see why not.
>> I got this from a girl at school after I made some comment and she looked at me the way girls do when you say something like I did and asked, “What is wrong with you?!?!” So, I answered her as much as I could. Oh, and the first line “I am left-handed,” you have no idea how true that is unless you have read the “Left-handed” article in the wondrous Wikipedia (please don’t hurt me for using your site at a reference). If you have anything else to add, please feel free, all I ask is to keep it clean…please. Thank you.
Jan 3, 2006
There's Nothing Wrong With Me, There's Something Wrong With You
“The Most Profound Thing I’ve Learned This Year”
Don’t suck. It’s all you truly need to survive in life. As long as some effort is given then that is all that is needed. It can’t be lame effort either, the kind where you stab and slash randomly at a piece of paper (if that) with a pencil. That’s lame and won’t get you anything unless negatives suddenly count at the lost of a paper and sharpened pencil. An example of just putting forth minimal effort would be the completion of schoolwork and myself. If an assignment calls for 5 sentence paragraphs, then that’s all that’s being done, 5 sentences. Whatever says “If all this is done, you get ‘A’ (not exact wording mind you)” then that’s what I will do assuming I will get a 100 and enough room for mistakes to get something in the 90’s. Even still, I can really slack on some assignments and get an ‘A’ in the class. Another random thing I learned is for some reason people don’t understand that if effort is put forth, you’ll do fine. Nope, they’re genuinely stupid and decide against it for no reason that I can comprehend. Though, an even better thing I learned was random ‘80’s retro music apparently is the best for writing. Of course, this music is playing really late on Sundays and the assignment is a ridiculously long for such a time and is completed within an hour. Effort was completed and all I needed was another who puts forth effort (advanced effort) and is in a Journalism class…coincidentally…she said I should be in Journalism…that’s kind of sad really. Oh well, here’s (it just hit me, I don’t know what that really means) to minimal effort.
>> Happy Birthday Giggles even though you probably aren’t reading this on your birthday. I’ve decided to just update and see how long it takes for anyone to actually notice that I have updated. First one to notice gets…I don’t know…I’ll say…a deally. Oh yes, one profound thing is the word “deally” can be used to replace a noun and people will know what you speak of. Well, usually one person will know, others won’t put effort into what you are saying be like “koala?” Of course, for Giggles for her 18th birthday, advice = don’t suck. It’s all you really need to know.
Don’t suck. It’s all you truly need to survive in life. As long as some effort is given then that is all that is needed. It can’t be lame effort either, the kind where you stab and slash randomly at a piece of paper (if that) with a pencil. That’s lame and won’t get you anything unless negatives suddenly count at the lost of a paper and sharpened pencil. An example of just putting forth minimal effort would be the completion of schoolwork and myself. If an assignment calls for 5 sentence paragraphs, then that’s all that’s being done, 5 sentences. Whatever says “If all this is done, you get ‘A’ (not exact wording mind you)” then that’s what I will do assuming I will get a 100 and enough room for mistakes to get something in the 90’s. Even still, I can really slack on some assignments and get an ‘A’ in the class. Another random thing I learned is for some reason people don’t understand that if effort is put forth, you’ll do fine. Nope, they’re genuinely stupid and decide against it for no reason that I can comprehend. Though, an even better thing I learned was random ‘80’s retro music apparently is the best for writing. Of course, this music is playing really late on Sundays and the assignment is a ridiculously long for such a time and is completed within an hour. Effort was completed and all I needed was another who puts forth effort (advanced effort) and is in a Journalism class…coincidentally…she said I should be in Journalism…that’s kind of sad really. Oh well, here’s (it just hit me, I don’t know what that really means) to minimal effort.
>> Happy Birthday Giggles even though you probably aren’t reading this on your birthday. I’ve decided to just update and see how long it takes for anyone to actually notice that I have updated. First one to notice gets…I don’t know…I’ll say…a deally. Oh yes, one profound thing is the word “deally” can be used to replace a noun and people will know what you speak of. Well, usually one person will know, others won’t put effort into what you are saying be like “koala?” Of course, for Giggles for her 18th birthday, advice = don’t suck. It’s all you really need to know.
Jan 1, 2006
Is There A Problem? Mr. Anderson?
“An Update On My New Year’s Resolutions”
I don’t make New Year’s resolutions and therefore I don’t need to update them. I think resolutions are stupid don’t need them. I’m fine the way I am that’s who I’ve always been. Why would I need to make a promise to change to make a “better” me? I already am me and I really can’t become better at that. If I were to change then I wouldn’t be me, but if I were not me then who would I be? I guess I’ll try not to think on it too much.
>> Wow this is short. I wrote this a year ago…in Grammar and Composition II. This prompt is so cliché…holy deallies it’s so cliché. I think that’s how my writing changed over time that the prompts were originally so cliché and I tried my best to twist them. Now…I don’t know what Mocoy and Giggles are feeding me…but it’s not so cliché. Hmm…this is a little short so I might put something up later about something like profound deallies…we’ll see.
I don’t make New Year’s resolutions and therefore I don’t need to update them. I think resolutions are stupid don’t need them. I’m fine the way I am that’s who I’ve always been. Why would I need to make a promise to change to make a “better” me? I already am me and I really can’t become better at that. If I were to change then I wouldn’t be me, but if I were not me then who would I be? I guess I’ll try not to think on it too much.
>> Wow this is short. I wrote this a year ago…in Grammar and Composition II. This prompt is so cliché…holy deallies it’s so cliché. I think that’s how my writing changed over time that the prompts were originally so cliché and I tried my best to twist them. Now…I don’t know what Mocoy and Giggles are feeding me…but it’s not so cliché. Hmm…this is a little short so I might put something up later about something like profound deallies…we’ll see.
Nov 23, 2005
All In All, Are You Just Another Brick In The Wall?
“For Each Of The Following Items, Describe The Circumstances And Feel Free To Elaborate On The Specifics:”
1. Describe your goals in life and what steps you are taking or will take to reach them.
Not dying. So far that’s working out pretty good. I make sure to take the right precautions when doing something dangerous and a car hasn’t hit me or anything. My goals are like everyone else’s; don’t die too early, listen to music, watch movies, career, family, and own some kind of an exotic pet. Steps? I don’t take a step at a time; I just go and do what is required to get me where I wish to be. Besides, I haven’t made any major decisions for far off life.
2. Describe your gifts and what you do to nurture them.
By gifts I assume you mean abilities. Well, I’m not so sure about that because I just do stuff. I don’t know how or why, I just know I can do it (and sometime I know I can’t). Maybe it’s my ability to look at some things differently. Then again, I just don’t know.
3. What help do you need to reach your fullest potential in life, school, and relationships? Include teachers, mentors, parents, and school programming in your answer.
More time not to do so much work would be nice so I wouldn’t be so overwhelmed. Good and smart teachers that I would like would also help, but that’s not something I really decide. Also, if I had a computer of my own to carry around and put everything I need inside would help out a lot, but you know……
>> This is from some paper I was supposed to fill out from some kind of special program. I took a “cognitive aptitude” test because I showed some kind of potential or another in CSAP tests or a teacher recommended me for this program for which we had to take the test. Well, the thing is, I hate programs like this. I show some kind of ‘potential’ or ‘gift’ and submitted to some program or test. Which, overall, does nothing for me other than use up my time for other things I would rather be doing. Of course, inevitably, the fact I was in one program leads me to being entered into another for the simple fact…that I was in the other program to in which I began. I am sick and tired of this crap; the “cognitive aptitude” test wasn’t even really worth it. The hardest part was the ‘equation building’ which I still finished in under the 10 or 12 minutes in which I had to do it. So, I decided I would actually put down what I truly thought in answering the ‘items.’ Yes, what is up there is what I actually put on the paper that I am going to turn in to whatever-her-face-is-teacher. My parents also have to fill out a paper like the one I have, but I’m sure theirs will vastly differ from what I have said. If this program goes anywhere, I’m sure it will be all the same over-processing math, analytical science, deep thought reading, and hard studying history. Why can’t we do something normal? You know, like teach us to play an instrument, write something, make art, make something, make simple movies. I’m sure if you have a collective group of people with ‘potential’ or ‘gifts’ then they can rule, subdue, and multiply with just ordinary simple things given the concentration. Well, I’m going to apologize for two things: 1. Giggles, I am sorry I did not put up the prompt-majigger you have given me, I simply have had no motivation to do it and this was just there. 2. This is ridiculously long and really shouldn’t have to be endured…I am sorry. *cliché holiday line*
1. Describe your goals in life and what steps you are taking or will take to reach them.
Not dying. So far that’s working out pretty good. I make sure to take the right precautions when doing something dangerous and a car hasn’t hit me or anything. My goals are like everyone else’s; don’t die too early, listen to music, watch movies, career, family, and own some kind of an exotic pet. Steps? I don’t take a step at a time; I just go and do what is required to get me where I wish to be. Besides, I haven’t made any major decisions for far off life.
2. Describe your gifts and what you do to nurture them.
By gifts I assume you mean abilities. Well, I’m not so sure about that because I just do stuff. I don’t know how or why, I just know I can do it (and sometime I know I can’t). Maybe it’s my ability to look at some things differently. Then again, I just don’t know.
3. What help do you need to reach your fullest potential in life, school, and relationships? Include teachers, mentors, parents, and school programming in your answer.
More time not to do so much work would be nice so I wouldn’t be so overwhelmed. Good and smart teachers that I would like would also help, but that’s not something I really decide. Also, if I had a computer of my own to carry around and put everything I need inside would help out a lot, but you know……
>> This is from some paper I was supposed to fill out from some kind of special program. I took a “cognitive aptitude” test because I showed some kind of potential or another in CSAP tests or a teacher recommended me for this program for which we had to take the test. Well, the thing is, I hate programs like this. I show some kind of ‘potential’ or ‘gift’ and submitted to some program or test. Which, overall, does nothing for me other than use up my time for other things I would rather be doing. Of course, inevitably, the fact I was in one program leads me to being entered into another for the simple fact…that I was in the other program to in which I began. I am sick and tired of this crap; the “cognitive aptitude” test wasn’t even really worth it. The hardest part was the ‘equation building’ which I still finished in under the 10 or 12 minutes in which I had to do it. So, I decided I would actually put down what I truly thought in answering the ‘items.’ Yes, what is up there is what I actually put on the paper that I am going to turn in to whatever-her-face-is-teacher. My parents also have to fill out a paper like the one I have, but I’m sure theirs will vastly differ from what I have said. If this program goes anywhere, I’m sure it will be all the same over-processing math, analytical science, deep thought reading, and hard studying history. Why can’t we do something normal? You know, like teach us to play an instrument, write something, make art, make something, make simple movies. I’m sure if you have a collective group of people with ‘potential’ or ‘gifts’ then they can rule, subdue, and multiply with just ordinary simple things given the concentration. Well, I’m going to apologize for two things: 1. Giggles, I am sorry I did not put up the prompt-majigger you have given me, I simply have had no motivation to do it and this was just there. 2. This is ridiculously long and really shouldn’t have to be endured…I am sorry. *cliché holiday line*
Oct 30, 2005
Hallow's Eve....Now With Juice!
“Your Favorite Holiday”
I really can’t say I have a particularly favorite holiday out of all of them. I can’t really remember any specific event that made a holiday uber-great and the times I do remember…weren’t all that great. So, I’ve decided to make a new holiday. The holiday will celebrate the desire to do something out of the ordinary. People would do things that you wouldn’t normally do in everyday life. Kind of like a day of liberation and just being there for the sake of…being there. I personally would like to call this new, strange, not-so-normal, holiday S.H.I.N.Y (of course). Stupendously-Happy-Inverted-New-daY. I call this because it is meant to be a day of joy and even if it includes being completely out of the normal. ‘New’ because, well, there is always to be something new happening, none of the same old routine stuff that no one cares about anyway. Also, when you say “S.H.I.N.Y.” you cover the whole ‘happy’ and ‘day’ at the beginning and end of the holiday’s name. Now, to have some kind of organization, you would have to wear shiny stuff of course! Even if this requires whipping out the roll of aluminum foil and wrapping it around every appendage of oneself (some appendages not suggested). A goal of S.H.I.N.Y would be…*sigh*…non-impairment if you will…as that’s just sad if you need to do that be just a little happy. Go and do anything worth something that you can look back and tell your children (or the children depending on what and how you did) and they’re all looking up at you like you’re the greatest, stupidest, craziest, bestest, role model they ever had looked upon with their little eyes. Now that…that would be my favorite holiday.
>> I obtained this prompt from Mocoy after realizing that there was going to be no way I was going to finish the other one I was sent from Giggles. Sorry, please don’t hurt me, be glad I updated at all. I also figured this to be more appropriate with Halloween, then Thanksgiving, then Christmas, and well…it goes for awhile. Though, I don’t have a date for S.H.I.N.Y., and I’m too lazy to think of one, so you come up with one and give a good reason why and you’ll get the recognition and satisfaction that you were the one who came up with the date for a new holiday. Have fun.
I really can’t say I have a particularly favorite holiday out of all of them. I can’t really remember any specific event that made a holiday uber-great and the times I do remember…weren’t all that great. So, I’ve decided to make a new holiday. The holiday will celebrate the desire to do something out of the ordinary. People would do things that you wouldn’t normally do in everyday life. Kind of like a day of liberation and just being there for the sake of…being there. I personally would like to call this new, strange, not-so-normal, holiday S.H.I.N.Y (of course). Stupendously-Happy-Inverted-New-daY. I call this because it is meant to be a day of joy and even if it includes being completely out of the normal. ‘New’ because, well, there is always to be something new happening, none of the same old routine stuff that no one cares about anyway. Also, when you say “S.H.I.N.Y.” you cover the whole ‘happy’ and ‘day’ at the beginning and end of the holiday’s name. Now, to have some kind of organization, you would have to wear shiny stuff of course! Even if this requires whipping out the roll of aluminum foil and wrapping it around every appendage of oneself (some appendages not suggested). A goal of S.H.I.N.Y would be…*sigh*…non-impairment if you will…as that’s just sad if you need to do that be just a little happy. Go and do anything worth something that you can look back and tell your children (or the children depending on what and how you did) and they’re all looking up at you like you’re the greatest, stupidest, craziest, bestest, role model they ever had looked upon with their little eyes. Now that…that would be my favorite holiday.
>> I obtained this prompt from Mocoy after realizing that there was going to be no way I was going to finish the other one I was sent from Giggles. Sorry, please don’t hurt me, be glad I updated at all. I also figured this to be more appropriate with Halloween, then Thanksgiving, then Christmas, and well…it goes for awhile. Though, I don’t have a date for S.H.I.N.Y., and I’m too lazy to think of one, so you come up with one and give a good reason why and you’ll get the recognition and satisfaction that you were the one who came up with the date for a new holiday. Have fun.
Oct 7, 2005
Oblivion Would Be Bliss, Bliss Would Be Hard To Grasp
“Stranded In A Bookstore For 24 Hours, Pick A Section And Why?”
If I were somehow stranded in a bookstore by “accident,” I would stay in sci-fi section or the music section. I would stay in the science fiction because I’m a loser like that. It holds a world far away that involves the imagination and some thought. I don’t think I could stand a romance novel because it would be worse than a soap opera because I would have to read it and have put effort into something so horrible. Mystery would annoy the piss out of me, “There can only be one conclusion!” Of course there can only be one conclusion! If there were two then it would have no solution and the mystery wouldn’t be solved. Straight up non-fiction can just get boring and even worse is its ugly half-cousin; historical fiction, it’s like a poor attempt to teach you something about history in an interesting manner. It doesn’t work that way; I’d rather hear…read…how something actually happened. Science fiction is fun because you can have the craziest random crap happen but still have a crackpot theory that makes it amazingly work because the author said so. Now, if I ever get bored I could slide on over to the music section and just be a bum sifting through music. I could also find some music of my preference and have the packaging mysteriously come off and leave with it when my hours have passed…not that I condone such. Then again, I just might build a big fort out of all the books I could find and declare war on the movie store. They won’t see it coming.
>> What section would you stay in? This was given to myself by Giggles a while ago, she gave me a lot of stuff; I still have two more from her. I feel obligated to give her something for her own writing…and because I told her I would. Unfortunately, I have nothing of that would probably challenge her. Wait! *Runs to get idea* what is the most profound thing you have learned in the past year? Life? And why?
If I were somehow stranded in a bookstore by “accident,” I would stay in sci-fi section or the music section. I would stay in the science fiction because I’m a loser like that. It holds a world far away that involves the imagination and some thought. I don’t think I could stand a romance novel because it would be worse than a soap opera because I would have to read it and have put effort into something so horrible. Mystery would annoy the piss out of me, “There can only be one conclusion!” Of course there can only be one conclusion! If there were two then it would have no solution and the mystery wouldn’t be solved. Straight up non-fiction can just get boring and even worse is its ugly half-cousin; historical fiction, it’s like a poor attempt to teach you something about history in an interesting manner. It doesn’t work that way; I’d rather hear…read…how something actually happened. Science fiction is fun because you can have the craziest random crap happen but still have a crackpot theory that makes it amazingly work because the author said so. Now, if I ever get bored I could slide on over to the music section and just be a bum sifting through music. I could also find some music of my preference and have the packaging mysteriously come off and leave with it when my hours have passed…not that I condone such. Then again, I just might build a big fort out of all the books I could find and declare war on the movie store. They won’t see it coming.
>> What section would you stay in? This was given to myself by Giggles a while ago, she gave me a lot of stuff; I still have two more from her. I feel obligated to give her something for her own writing…and because I told her I would. Unfortunately, I have nothing of that would probably challenge her. Wait! *Runs to get idea* what is the most profound thing you have learned in the past year? Life? And why?
Sep 30, 2005
Bendy Straw!
“Difference Between Laziness And Writer’s Block Is…”
The difference between laziness and writer’s block is a very distinct. Laziness is obviously where you have the idea, you have the resources, but you just don’t feel like it. No matter the obligation or incentive, you just don’t want to get up, wipe the cookies crumbs off your belly and put forth effort. Now, writer’s block can vary from having the urge to write but nothing to write about or something actually being a block to your writing. You may have all the urge in the world and be all “I am going to write the greatest writing that has and ever will be written and put forth on this earth!” But of course you have no idea where to begin and end up just sitting around…and…eating cookies. Though, the worst is having something being a block to your writing. For example, deally loads of homework that keep you up until hours in the night you weren’t aware you were capable of and still function. Laziness equates itself into this and you get transitions like “First”, “Second”, and other cheap and easy words as such. Laziness follows the minimum requirements to squeeze by and just get it done if at all. Writer’s block has everything to do with the wonderful feeling until you actually have the pencil in hand and blank paper in front of you…mocking…laying…and just being a jerk because it took all your inspiration away and in its emptiness of white and blue lines. Then you start to wander and ask if it’s blue paper with white lines and just completely forget why you’re sitting with paper and pencil all by yourself in dim light and the recurring thought of “Bendy Straw!” Overall, it sucks to have writer’s block and you could really care less when you’re lazy.
>> Giggles gave me this and I figured it would be good for her to writer her perspective on this topic and challenged her to finish by a certain date. She beat by…six days…and here I am two days later than her…don’t I feel special. Seriously, go see her writing, she doesn’t update very often (even though I know she has lots of stuff to put up) and it’s a rare site when she does. What are your thoughts? Do you have thoughts? Do you want to give the world a hug, or punch its lights out? What kind of fortune cookie says ‘You are a true friend’? Should people do one thing everyday that scares them? Am I true friend or does that depend on the your perspective of 'friend'? Why do you care? If the hokey-pokey is what it's all about, then what exactly is the hokey-pokey?
The difference between laziness and writer’s block is a very distinct. Laziness is obviously where you have the idea, you have the resources, but you just don’t feel like it. No matter the obligation or incentive, you just don’t want to get up, wipe the cookies crumbs off your belly and put forth effort. Now, writer’s block can vary from having the urge to write but nothing to write about or something actually being a block to your writing. You may have all the urge in the world and be all “I am going to write the greatest writing that has and ever will be written and put forth on this earth!” But of course you have no idea where to begin and end up just sitting around…and…eating cookies. Though, the worst is having something being a block to your writing. For example, deally loads of homework that keep you up until hours in the night you weren’t aware you were capable of and still function. Laziness equates itself into this and you get transitions like “First”, “Second”, and other cheap and easy words as such. Laziness follows the minimum requirements to squeeze by and just get it done if at all. Writer’s block has everything to do with the wonderful feeling until you actually have the pencil in hand and blank paper in front of you…mocking…laying…and just being a jerk because it took all your inspiration away and in its emptiness of white and blue lines. Then you start to wander and ask if it’s blue paper with white lines and just completely forget why you’re sitting with paper and pencil all by yourself in dim light and the recurring thought of “Bendy Straw!” Overall, it sucks to have writer’s block and you could really care less when you’re lazy.
>> Giggles gave me this and I figured it would be good for her to writer her perspective on this topic and challenged her to finish by a certain date. She beat by…six days…and here I am two days later than her…don’t I feel special. Seriously, go see her writing, she doesn’t update very often (even though I know she has lots of stuff to put up) and it’s a rare site when she does. What are your thoughts? Do you have thoughts? Do you want to give the world a hug, or punch its lights out? What kind of fortune cookie says ‘You are a true friend’? Should people do one thing everyday that scares them? Am I true friend or does that depend on the your perspective of 'friend'? Why do you care? If the hokey-pokey is what it's all about, then what exactly is the hokey-pokey?
Sep 16, 2005
Calm Like A Bomb, Ignite.
“Try A Scenario”
Scenario: While waiting for your baggage at an airport, you notice a young woman at the baggage carrousel. Although it’s daytime, she's wearing a black strapless evening gown, high-heeled shoes and coordinated jewelry. She collects a box wrapped in brown paper. What’s in the box? Who’s she meeting? Why is she dressed to the nines at the airport?
Like any other guy I would ask myself the above questions and come to the conclusion she’s strangely attractive at an unusual time of day. Unfortunately, I am insecure about meeting people in public places…especially females. The curiosity would burn me and a million ways to start a conversation would sift through my head. All the meanwhile eyes focused on her and the thought of just ignorance at the top of my mind, after all, ignorance is supposed to be bliss. Another thought of regretting not done sat at the top as well and both weighed heavily. I search the carrousel for my own bags and perhaps a window of opportunity. When I find my bags, I realize how I must look to her, just another guy without a clue and nowhere to go. I decided I might of as well get my bags before someone sees me staring and thinking I’m some kind of stalker or predator. As I reach to get my bags I let out a sigh and notice in the corner of my eye she’s looking at me. I don’t like it people look at me especially intently it’s unnerving and drives my mind to a million and a half tangents all improbable and unnecessary. In order to deal with this feeling, I do what I don’t see most others do. I said hello. She responded with a simple hi and a small smile and didn’t seem surprised by my greeting. I figured that it couldn’t hurt and since I’m here I might as well ask.
“Why are you dressed so nicely and of all the places, the airport?”
“Why are you dressed so plainly?” I looked down at my hooded sweatshirt that I wasn’t so sure when I last cleaned it…maybe a week ago, and then my denim pants that I also wasn’t sure when the last time it was washed. At least my socks and underwear were clean, that has to count for something. So I looked back up and gave her a reason to ponder.
“Why not? I’m comfortable and I’m trying not to grab anyone’s attention and I really don’t want to...I’m at the airport.” She thought for a moment for something to say and didn’t seem to come to a conclusion.
“My name’s Karissa, yours?” She stuck out her hand and balanced the box in her right hand…. why’d she stick out her left hand? This all seems bizarre anyway, so why not? I shook her left hand with mine, feeling a little awkward, physical contact is another thing I don’t do much.
“Charlie…or Chuck…or if you want really want to Charles as long as you don’t say it in a British, rich, pompous accent.”
“Wha?”
“…Don’t worry about it…you trying to start a new trend with the left hand?”
“For spontaneous introductions, yes.” This about when I noticed we were the only ones still standing in front of the carrousel from our flight and people from another flight had come to get their luggage. As I turned back, everything started to get dark and the image of Karissa faded into a distance and soon all I knew was darkness, a voice blaring, and the sensation of being somewhere strange. I opened my eyes to find myself, sitting in a chair at an airport terminal with my flight and rows being called onto the plane.
Still getting over the deep sleep and extreme weirdness of the dream, I grabbed my carry-on and walked into the plane in a state of half-attention and half-sleep. I fell asleep…again… on my flight, but with only reminiscent images and nothing I could really distinguish. I came into the terminal, not really thinking about the strange dream. Just that I’ve never had a dream where I met someone I had never seen before and they had a name. Though, dreams are only dreams and probably mean nothing. I came to the area of the carrousel and stopped…there…in front of the carrousel stood Karissa…little brown wrapped box and all. Well, I don’t know if her name is Karissa, but there’s only way to find out…
>> Giggles gave this to me! I don’t know if it’s any good or not, every time I re-read something I wrote, it sounds more and more worse. No, this was not an actual dream; it’s all made up. If you want to know what’s in the box, too bad, that’s Karissa’s business and not mine or yours. Sorry this took so long, but school is a major pain. I knew sophomore year was going to suck; it’s all in the word “sophomore”! I’m sure there was more I wanted to say, but I can’t think of anything.
Scenario: While waiting for your baggage at an airport, you notice a young woman at the baggage carrousel. Although it’s daytime, she's wearing a black strapless evening gown, high-heeled shoes and coordinated jewelry. She collects a box wrapped in brown paper. What’s in the box? Who’s she meeting? Why is she dressed to the nines at the airport?
Like any other guy I would ask myself the above questions and come to the conclusion she’s strangely attractive at an unusual time of day. Unfortunately, I am insecure about meeting people in public places…especially females. The curiosity would burn me and a million ways to start a conversation would sift through my head. All the meanwhile eyes focused on her and the thought of just ignorance at the top of my mind, after all, ignorance is supposed to be bliss. Another thought of regretting not done sat at the top as well and both weighed heavily. I search the carrousel for my own bags and perhaps a window of opportunity. When I find my bags, I realize how I must look to her, just another guy without a clue and nowhere to go. I decided I might of as well get my bags before someone sees me staring and thinking I’m some kind of stalker or predator. As I reach to get my bags I let out a sigh and notice in the corner of my eye she’s looking at me. I don’t like it people look at me especially intently it’s unnerving and drives my mind to a million and a half tangents all improbable and unnecessary. In order to deal with this feeling, I do what I don’t see most others do. I said hello. She responded with a simple hi and a small smile and didn’t seem surprised by my greeting. I figured that it couldn’t hurt and since I’m here I might as well ask.
“Why are you dressed so nicely and of all the places, the airport?”
“Why are you dressed so plainly?” I looked down at my hooded sweatshirt that I wasn’t so sure when I last cleaned it…maybe a week ago, and then my denim pants that I also wasn’t sure when the last time it was washed. At least my socks and underwear were clean, that has to count for something. So I looked back up and gave her a reason to ponder.
“Why not? I’m comfortable and I’m trying not to grab anyone’s attention and I really don’t want to...I’m at the airport.” She thought for a moment for something to say and didn’t seem to come to a conclusion.
“My name’s Karissa, yours?” She stuck out her hand and balanced the box in her right hand…. why’d she stick out her left hand? This all seems bizarre anyway, so why not? I shook her left hand with mine, feeling a little awkward, physical contact is another thing I don’t do much.
“Charlie…or Chuck…or if you want really want to Charles as long as you don’t say it in a British, rich, pompous accent.”
“Wha?”
“…Don’t worry about it…you trying to start a new trend with the left hand?”
“For spontaneous introductions, yes.” This about when I noticed we were the only ones still standing in front of the carrousel from our flight and people from another flight had come to get their luggage. As I turned back, everything started to get dark and the image of Karissa faded into a distance and soon all I knew was darkness, a voice blaring, and the sensation of being somewhere strange. I opened my eyes to find myself, sitting in a chair at an airport terminal with my flight and rows being called onto the plane.
Still getting over the deep sleep and extreme weirdness of the dream, I grabbed my carry-on and walked into the plane in a state of half-attention and half-sleep. I fell asleep…again… on my flight, but with only reminiscent images and nothing I could really distinguish. I came into the terminal, not really thinking about the strange dream. Just that I’ve never had a dream where I met someone I had never seen before and they had a name. Though, dreams are only dreams and probably mean nothing. I came to the area of the carrousel and stopped…there…in front of the carrousel stood Karissa…little brown wrapped box and all. Well, I don’t know if her name is Karissa, but there’s only way to find out…
>> Giggles gave this to me! I don’t know if it’s any good or not, every time I re-read something I wrote, it sounds more and more worse. No, this was not an actual dream; it’s all made up. If you want to know what’s in the box, too bad, that’s Karissa’s business and not mine or yours. Sorry this took so long, but school is a major pain. I knew sophomore year was going to suck; it’s all in the word “sophomore”! I’m sure there was more I wanted to say, but I can’t think of anything.
Sep 4, 2005
Mass Disillusion +1
“What Is The Most Elaborate Prank You Could Pull Off?”
I’m not sure if I could pull it off, but I can make something really elaborate. First! I would find the radio frequency of the authorities and tell them to prepare for a nuclear holocaust situation and keep lines of communication quiet so the enemies can’t catch onto our plans. Second! I would cut all electricity off to nearby towns as if Colorado were struck first. Third! I would have one…one…radio frequency running and it would be telling everyone about the nuclear holocaust situation. After a month or so, it would start airing a message of “This all has been one big sociological test…you failed.” It would say this over and over again for awhile and soon power would come back to northern Colorado. Fourth! I won’t be anywhere near this place because I’m not that stupid. Of course, another elaborate prank I could pull is tell everyone that a certain album’s *coughHypnotizecough* release date is really far off. Then suddenly I’ll show up one day with a two hundred albums in hand and give everyone a copy and joy will come to all the children! That would be a great prank!
>> I got this from Mocoy awhile ago, I just had to kind of think it through…sad that I already had an idea when she gave it to me. The latter prank was brought on by the recent discovery that System of a Down’s second disc in their dual set, “Hypnotize”, probably won’t come out until November and how great it would be if it came out in September like originally suspected. I can still remain hopeful? Right? I’m pathetic…and sad.
I’m not sure if I could pull it off, but I can make something really elaborate. First! I would find the radio frequency of the authorities and tell them to prepare for a nuclear holocaust situation and keep lines of communication quiet so the enemies can’t catch onto our plans. Second! I would cut all electricity off to nearby towns as if Colorado were struck first. Third! I would have one…one…radio frequency running and it would be telling everyone about the nuclear holocaust situation. After a month or so, it would start airing a message of “This all has been one big sociological test…you failed.” It would say this over and over again for awhile and soon power would come back to northern Colorado. Fourth! I won’t be anywhere near this place because I’m not that stupid. Of course, another elaborate prank I could pull is tell everyone that a certain album’s *coughHypnotizecough* release date is really far off. Then suddenly I’ll show up one day with a two hundred albums in hand and give everyone a copy and joy will come to all the children! That would be a great prank!
>> I got this from Mocoy awhile ago, I just had to kind of think it through…sad that I already had an idea when she gave it to me. The latter prank was brought on by the recent discovery that System of a Down’s second disc in their dual set, “Hypnotize”, probably won’t come out until November and how great it would be if it came out in September like originally suspected. I can still remain hopeful? Right? I’m pathetic…and sad.
Aug 25, 2005
Happy Christmas And Merry Belated Birthday!
“Write A Poem”
6 months and 9 days,
What can I say?,
Sunday funny wrapped,
Held together because it’s ducted,
Inside is something on your head in (>>it) will rend,
Just be glad I’m not your boyfriend.
It’s the anniversary of your birthday,
I really don’t (>>have) much to say,
I’m trying to get stuff to rhyme,
I’m hoping it’s done when you’re reading this at this time,
The syllables and lines are amnesia in this poem,
Hoping you don’t mind I’ll call it Andrea’s Birthday Poem.
>> These are horrendous poems that I wrote for Giggle’s and Mocoy’s birthdays. The first one was (yes, two separate poems there) for Giggles (Lindsey) and the second for Mocoy (Andrea). The words in parentheses are words I didn’t even write on the makeshift cards but were supposed to be there, “it” instead of “in,” and “have” inserted where it is. Shows how much thought I put into things. Oh, and each of their gifts were wrapped in the Sunday funnies and taped with duct tape. Giggle’s gift was a 3 tiara that now lives in her vehicular object. Mocoy’s gift…s…were two fortune cookies, some amount of crème savers, 17 cents (at lack of 17 dollars), and a tape unconsciously added to the package. The reason I put up these exponentially sub-par poems up is because Mocoy wanted me to write a poem, but I had nothing to poem about in particular. So…deal with it.
6 months and 9 days,
What can I say?,
Sunday funny wrapped,
Held together because it’s ducted,
Inside is something on your head in (>>it) will rend,
Just be glad I’m not your boyfriend.
It’s the anniversary of your birthday,
I really don’t (>>have) much to say,
I’m trying to get stuff to rhyme,
I’m hoping it’s done when you’re reading this at this time,
The syllables and lines are amnesia in this poem,
Hoping you don’t mind I’ll call it Andrea’s Birthday Poem.
>> These are horrendous poems that I wrote for Giggle’s and Mocoy’s birthdays. The first one was (yes, two separate poems there) for Giggles (Lindsey) and the second for Mocoy (Andrea). The words in parentheses are words I didn’t even write on the makeshift cards but were supposed to be there, “it” instead of “in,” and “have” inserted where it is. Shows how much thought I put into things. Oh, and each of their gifts were wrapped in the Sunday funnies and taped with duct tape. Giggle’s gift was a 3 tiara that now lives in her vehicular object. Mocoy’s gift…s…were two fortune cookies, some amount of crème savers, 17 cents (at lack of 17 dollars), and a tape unconsciously added to the package. The reason I put up these exponentially sub-par poems up is because Mocoy wanted me to write a poem, but I had nothing to poem about in particular. So…deal with it.
Aug 18, 2005
I Choke On Food And Drink Daily
“A Childhood Experience”
Well, you see I had this sweatshirt that I wore everywhere…no, seriously, I’ll say something real. When I was young, I lived in a bedroom upstairs and down the hall to the left across from the bathroom. I had a full sized bed and a dino comforter. Everything was great until my parents decided to turn my room into an office. My room was then moved downstairs in the basement…the whole entire basement. Not completely but there was three rooms, a laundry room, my bro’s room, and the main room that contained the only TV and led to both of the other rooms. My bed was located at the farthest to the west with a dresser and couch for an east wall. I didn’t even have a blanket hung up for a wall the separate my “room” from everything else. Now, I could hear everything that moved above the basement, everything that came down to the basement, and everything that entered the basement. The doors didn’t help, all three doors squeak and…rumf(?)…against their door frames. Now, I could get over that…except for when my sis came down the stairs and turned on the overheard lights to get to the laundry room, which is about three feet to the left (when coming down) of the downstairs door. I would turn off the lights, but then I would have to walk across my basement to turn them off, then walk back in the dark hoping to not hit anything hard. It was just easier to take the blankets and put them over my head. Also, in the middle of the night our heater/AC would come on…that’s located in the laundry room which has a big vent that leads into my “room.” When you’re little and trying to fall asleep and a loud humming noise comes on in the night…you’re wide awake…of course I would get used to it and get close to falling asleep the to the rhythmic, soothing, humming of this vent. Then, it’s quiet…dead quiet…and I am awake once again. This was not the worse, the crickets were, I woke up almost every night to a cricket chirping in my huge basement. One night, I got sick of it, turned on my lamp (I put one on my dresser so I could get up in the morning without inflicting pain to myself), got a stick, a bright flashlight, and searched for the little effer. I would find it by sound and when it stopped I knew I was close and stab it. There are still dried cricket guts on that stick. I’m sorry, I lied, crickets are nothing, I could kill those, the mornings got bad. One morning I almost pissed myself waking up to an obnoxious racketing noise, a voice blairing, and a bright light. It was my father…on the Nordic Track…watching TV at ridicolous volumes…at five in the morning. The Nordic Track is loud in itself, but boring, so my dad turns on the TV, puts the volume at 41 WITH the stereo hooked up to it. I didn’t ask what he was doing, I didn’t ask why he was doing this, that was obvious, but why he did it now. Not even my dino comforter could comfort me. How I did well in school at the point in time still baffles me. Soon…or I don’t know…it was a horrible blur…we added onto our house and my sis got a new room and I got her old one. It’s tiny, it’s light blue, and full of random crap. To this day I still have my dino comforter and forever it shall be as it there to comfort. What’s the moral? I don’t know, maybe to give your kids a real room for personal space and give them a sweet comforter with dinos?
>> I was given this back in driver’s ed by Mocoy because she wanted a story or something from my childhood, at first I thought of the time when I flew 10 feet in the air, then changed to when I fought with sticks, finally I settle with this when my bro reminded me of it whilst on my trip. I look back and I laugh…especially when I tell it aloud. If this does not satisfy you, then I’ll give you one of the other stories by unanimous request (that’s right, a unanimous request of 2!). Wow this is long, the document which holds all my journals can no longer provide spelling and grammar check it’s so long and full of “mistakes.” If you want to know about my trip through Kansas (should be pronounced ‘Kun-saw’), Oklahoma, Arkansas (barely), Oklahoma, Texas, Oklahoma, and finally Colorado…you’re going to have to wait…by unanimous request (haha!). I have to go to school tomorrow…hope I didn’t miss anything ridicolously important. Again, I am sorry for any spelling, etc., mistakes…I’m just too lazy cut/paste to make new documents. Have fun!
Well, you see I had this sweatshirt that I wore everywhere…no, seriously, I’ll say something real. When I was young, I lived in a bedroom upstairs and down the hall to the left across from the bathroom. I had a full sized bed and a dino comforter. Everything was great until my parents decided to turn my room into an office. My room was then moved downstairs in the basement…the whole entire basement. Not completely but there was three rooms, a laundry room, my bro’s room, and the main room that contained the only TV and led to both of the other rooms. My bed was located at the farthest to the west with a dresser and couch for an east wall. I didn’t even have a blanket hung up for a wall the separate my “room” from everything else. Now, I could hear everything that moved above the basement, everything that came down to the basement, and everything that entered the basement. The doors didn’t help, all three doors squeak and…rumf(?)…against their door frames. Now, I could get over that…except for when my sis came down the stairs and turned on the overheard lights to get to the laundry room, which is about three feet to the left (when coming down) of the downstairs door. I would turn off the lights, but then I would have to walk across my basement to turn them off, then walk back in the dark hoping to not hit anything hard. It was just easier to take the blankets and put them over my head. Also, in the middle of the night our heater/AC would come on…that’s located in the laundry room which has a big vent that leads into my “room.” When you’re little and trying to fall asleep and a loud humming noise comes on in the night…you’re wide awake…of course I would get used to it and get close to falling asleep the to the rhythmic, soothing, humming of this vent. Then, it’s quiet…dead quiet…and I am awake once again. This was not the worse, the crickets were, I woke up almost every night to a cricket chirping in my huge basement. One night, I got sick of it, turned on my lamp (I put one on my dresser so I could get up in the morning without inflicting pain to myself), got a stick, a bright flashlight, and searched for the little effer. I would find it by sound and when it stopped I knew I was close and stab it. There are still dried cricket guts on that stick. I’m sorry, I lied, crickets are nothing, I could kill those, the mornings got bad. One morning I almost pissed myself waking up to an obnoxious racketing noise, a voice blairing, and a bright light. It was my father…on the Nordic Track…watching TV at ridicolous volumes…at five in the morning. The Nordic Track is loud in itself, but boring, so my dad turns on the TV, puts the volume at 41 WITH the stereo hooked up to it. I didn’t ask what he was doing, I didn’t ask why he was doing this, that was obvious, but why he did it now. Not even my dino comforter could comfort me. How I did well in school at the point in time still baffles me. Soon…or I don’t know…it was a horrible blur…we added onto our house and my sis got a new room and I got her old one. It’s tiny, it’s light blue, and full of random crap. To this day I still have my dino comforter and forever it shall be as it there to comfort. What’s the moral? I don’t know, maybe to give your kids a real room for personal space and give them a sweet comforter with dinos?
>> I was given this back in driver’s ed by Mocoy because she wanted a story or something from my childhood, at first I thought of the time when I flew 10 feet in the air, then changed to when I fought with sticks, finally I settle with this when my bro reminded me of it whilst on my trip. I look back and I laugh…especially when I tell it aloud. If this does not satisfy you, then I’ll give you one of the other stories by unanimous request (that’s right, a unanimous request of 2!). Wow this is long, the document which holds all my journals can no longer provide spelling and grammar check it’s so long and full of “mistakes.” If you want to know about my trip through Kansas (should be pronounced ‘Kun-saw’), Oklahoma, Arkansas (barely), Oklahoma, Texas, Oklahoma, and finally Colorado…you’re going to have to wait…by unanimous request (haha!). I have to go to school tomorrow…hope I didn’t miss anything ridicolously important. Again, I am sorry for any spelling, etc., mistakes…I’m just too lazy cut/paste to make new documents. Have fun!
Aug 12, 2005
You'll Survive, And If You Don't, You Didn't Deserve To Survive
“How Do You Orchestrate Happiness?”
Unknowingly. Apparently, I just say random stuff that comes to my head and people are suddenly happy. Wait…let me look up orchestrate to make sure I know what it means…*rolls to local dictionary*…alright, it does. Seriously, I’m not quite sure how I do it but somehow I just do. Of course, I don’t hang around people who don’t make me happy and I seemingly don’t make them happy, so that might have something to do with it. Also, if someone seems a little sad or distressed (sometimes I have a hard time telling if at all), I’ll ask them what’s wrong and try to help them out, make them feel like they’re not alone. This is soon continued by something said that is completely sporadic and makes their thought process run off track. Happiness is soon followed…usually…and the person feels better and generally happy. I just might ask some people how I orchestrate happiness as they would know better than I…or is it me?
>> Mocoy gave this to me a long time ago…during driver’s ed…I’m sorry now, so shush. Tomorrow I leave and won’t be back until next Thursday in case for some reason it completely escaped from your mind that I was. Go to school for one day next week…that will be interesting…don’t know why…but it will. I figure I’ll get a head start on asking people by asking you…how do I orchestrate happiness? There has to be a reason you people put with me. Hmm…I won’t be able to see what you say right away, but I’ll still be able to see eventually…so go ahead tell me. Please, put my contemplating mind at rest. Thank you.
Unknowingly. Apparently, I just say random stuff that comes to my head and people are suddenly happy. Wait…let me look up orchestrate to make sure I know what it means…*rolls to local dictionary*…alright, it does. Seriously, I’m not quite sure how I do it but somehow I just do. Of course, I don’t hang around people who don’t make me happy and I seemingly don’t make them happy, so that might have something to do with it. Also, if someone seems a little sad or distressed (sometimes I have a hard time telling if at all), I’ll ask them what’s wrong and try to help them out, make them feel like they’re not alone. This is soon continued by something said that is completely sporadic and makes their thought process run off track. Happiness is soon followed…usually…and the person feels better and generally happy. I just might ask some people how I orchestrate happiness as they would know better than I…or is it me?
>> Mocoy gave this to me a long time ago…during driver’s ed…I’m sorry now, so shush. Tomorrow I leave and won’t be back until next Thursday in case for some reason it completely escaped from your mind that I was. Go to school for one day next week…that will be interesting…don’t know why…but it will. I figure I’ll get a head start on asking people by asking you…how do I orchestrate happiness? There has to be a reason you people put with me. Hmm…I won’t be able to see what you say right away, but I’ll still be able to see eventually…so go ahead tell me. Please, put my contemplating mind at rest. Thank you.
Aug 8, 2005
My Mind And Myself Are Quite Real, So Would This Mean My Fantasies Are A Reality?
“My Thought Process”
It finally came down to this, a roof-top, a target, and a job to be finished. He aimed his six shooter at the man giving him no chance left. He fired…and nothing happened…a sudden realization hit him that he had used his six bullets earlier that day. He had to think fast, he was supposed to be good at his job. Then with all his might he threw his gun and aimed for the main body in hopes of knocking his target off balance off the roof. Consequently, he hit the target in the face. The target grabbed it’s head and yelled something about its eye, staggered, and fell to its knees…off of the roof-top. Not quite the desired effect but he was good at his job.
>> Watching TV and got bored of what was on and thought of what I would do if I suddenly ran out of bullets…how I got to this thought I don’t quite remember, wait there’s more!
NEXT TIME ON “ALL MY DEALLIES”
“moo.”
“moo.”
“moo.”
*slap*
*insert dramatic music* dun dun DUN
SEE THE TRAMATIZING CONCLUSION THAT WE WON’T SHOW FOR A LONG, LONG, LONG TIME.
>> Again, I got bored, and so we don’t have a faux pa (spelling?), a deally is basically when you take your right hand and make it into a creature like thing that crawls everywhere with your fingers as legs. Also, a deally says and only says “moo” in a monotone voice with no emotion at all. Kungfu Bob pretty much came up with ‘deally’ in the 7th grade and we’ve always just had fun with it. Thanks to him, I can no longer say ‘deally’ without saying “moo” afterward. If you have seen watched an episode of a soap opera, they don’t tell you anything, just keep the suspense, and that’s how they keep their audience. Still more!
The 50 foot tall porcupine stood atop the ridge upon its hind legs. A quill sword in its left hand and one of the three heads from Ghidora in its right. The porcupine soon spotted the flying monster known as Rhodan and it would be next. The porcupine spun the head around faster and faster and released straight for Rhodan. The head clipped Rhodan’s right wing and the creature spun out of control straight for the earth. Rhodan recovered in time to just barely miss the ground and started to head straight for the porcupine, blinded by a furious anger. The porcupine stood in a defensive position, cleaving the quill sword in both hands waiting for the oncoming Rhodan to strike. Rhodan suddenly brought up its claws to rip the porcupine into shreds and soon found this to be a mistake. The porcupine swung the quill sword around and into the Rhodan’s claws, the barbs cut in and expanded. Rhodan’s claws were ripped to shreds and the left claw barely hung and remained a bloody mass. Rhodan soared into the sky to escape the deadly weapon and the porcupine’s wrath. The porcupine bent back exposing its chest and suddenly bent back forward and flexed its back muscles launching a wave of smaller quills into the sky at Rhodan. Several punctured Rhodan’s wings and sent the creature hurtling toward the earth. As the porcupine waited for the dust cloud to settle Rhodan struck out with its hard, long beak at the sword and sent it flying out of reach and stabbed the porcupine in the torso sending it across the ridge. Rhodan knew to survive it would have to fight this new monster without its weapon. The porcupine rose from the ground, quills flared, reached back, and drew out a new, longer, and barb filled quill. Rhodan knew then that it could not win and there was no surviving. The porcupine crawled away that day with another victory heading for the ultimate goal of achieving a name in history.
Godzilla…you’re next.
>> I was floating along a river when I saw a ridge and came up with this. Ghidora and Rhodan are both monsters from the Japanese Godzilla movies and I’m not sure if I have spelled those names correctly. I got the idea for the porcupine from when we were visiting old family friends in the mountains and they were showing us around their ranch…place…and we saw three porcupines. One was freaking huge and was a good distance from the tall grass so we decided to drive up to it. Well, we wanted to see the porcupine’s face…that is very difficult…we were driving around in circles practically rounding up a single porcupine at max speeds of 15 mph (for fear of hitting a rather large bump) and all the time the porcupine is evading us. We never got to see its face. Next!
*Jimi Hendrix guitar riff from All Along The Watchtower that leads into crazy beats and riffs from Rage Against the Machine and leads into all kinds of music from all sorts of bands that only leads back to All Along The Watchtower*
>> When I get really bored I literally start to go into guitar riffs and all sorts of crazy stuff. This also been known to happen whilst reading a book. I was reading a book one day and I noticed that there was music being played in my head…seemingly from my right side…I tried to identify the band and song but as soon as I realized there was music…it faded away only to return when I started to get into the book, its really annoying. Last of all!
Insanity is defined as doing something over and over again expecting a different result. Almost everyone I know who has met Kungfu Bob (or heard about him) has called him insane…as if they expect him to change or something. Maybe he’s just normal and everyone else is insane. That would be awesome. Only the insane thrive, and those who thrive decide what’s insane.
>> I actually thought about this one day when I was pulling weeds or something. I got to show this to Kungfu Bob now. These are basically some of my thought processes…processi…proci…plural for “process”…and I got the idea from when I asked Mocoy why she exactly read all this.
“Mostly because it’s hilarious.”
“Mostly? What’s the other part?”
“To get an inside look at the maze that is your mind.” (Paraphrased there)
“I don’t really think of it as a maze more than a big wide open field that’s being harvested too much.” That’s how I got to all this and it is now ridicously long and probably full of all sorts of errors…ignore those please…thank you. Oh yes, I’m going to be gone…again!…to work at my grandmother’s to earn money for stuff. Then I’m leaving again! Going to Arkansas with my sis to her college because she doesn’t want to go alone so my bro and mother are being dragged along as well. So, I’m going to miss the first day of school and won’t get to catch up and people won’t get to talk to me, BUWAHAHAHAHA…I mean…suckers.
It finally came down to this, a roof-top, a target, and a job to be finished. He aimed his six shooter at the man giving him no chance left. He fired…and nothing happened…a sudden realization hit him that he had used his six bullets earlier that day. He had to think fast, he was supposed to be good at his job. Then with all his might he threw his gun and aimed for the main body in hopes of knocking his target off balance off the roof. Consequently, he hit the target in the face. The target grabbed it’s head and yelled something about its eye, staggered, and fell to its knees…off of the roof-top. Not quite the desired effect but he was good at his job.
>> Watching TV and got bored of what was on and thought of what I would do if I suddenly ran out of bullets…how I got to this thought I don’t quite remember, wait there’s more!
NEXT TIME ON “ALL MY DEALLIES”
“moo.”
“moo.”
“moo.”
*slap*
*insert dramatic music* dun dun DUN
SEE THE TRAMATIZING CONCLUSION THAT WE WON’T SHOW FOR A LONG, LONG, LONG TIME.
>> Again, I got bored, and so we don’t have a faux pa (spelling?), a deally is basically when you take your right hand and make it into a creature like thing that crawls everywhere with your fingers as legs. Also, a deally says and only says “moo” in a monotone voice with no emotion at all. Kungfu Bob pretty much came up with ‘deally’ in the 7th grade and we’ve always just had fun with it. Thanks to him, I can no longer say ‘deally’ without saying “moo” afterward. If you have seen watched an episode of a soap opera, they don’t tell you anything, just keep the suspense, and that’s how they keep their audience. Still more!
The 50 foot tall porcupine stood atop the ridge upon its hind legs. A quill sword in its left hand and one of the three heads from Ghidora in its right. The porcupine soon spotted the flying monster known as Rhodan and it would be next. The porcupine spun the head around faster and faster and released straight for Rhodan. The head clipped Rhodan’s right wing and the creature spun out of control straight for the earth. Rhodan recovered in time to just barely miss the ground and started to head straight for the porcupine, blinded by a furious anger. The porcupine stood in a defensive position, cleaving the quill sword in both hands waiting for the oncoming Rhodan to strike. Rhodan suddenly brought up its claws to rip the porcupine into shreds and soon found this to be a mistake. The porcupine swung the quill sword around and into the Rhodan’s claws, the barbs cut in and expanded. Rhodan’s claws were ripped to shreds and the left claw barely hung and remained a bloody mass. Rhodan soared into the sky to escape the deadly weapon and the porcupine’s wrath. The porcupine bent back exposing its chest and suddenly bent back forward and flexed its back muscles launching a wave of smaller quills into the sky at Rhodan. Several punctured Rhodan’s wings and sent the creature hurtling toward the earth. As the porcupine waited for the dust cloud to settle Rhodan struck out with its hard, long beak at the sword and sent it flying out of reach and stabbed the porcupine in the torso sending it across the ridge. Rhodan knew to survive it would have to fight this new monster without its weapon. The porcupine rose from the ground, quills flared, reached back, and drew out a new, longer, and barb filled quill. Rhodan knew then that it could not win and there was no surviving. The porcupine crawled away that day with another victory heading for the ultimate goal of achieving a name in history.
Godzilla…you’re next.
>> I was floating along a river when I saw a ridge and came up with this. Ghidora and Rhodan are both monsters from the Japanese Godzilla movies and I’m not sure if I have spelled those names correctly. I got the idea for the porcupine from when we were visiting old family friends in the mountains and they were showing us around their ranch…place…and we saw three porcupines. One was freaking huge and was a good distance from the tall grass so we decided to drive up to it. Well, we wanted to see the porcupine’s face…that is very difficult…we were driving around in circles practically rounding up a single porcupine at max speeds of 15 mph (for fear of hitting a rather large bump) and all the time the porcupine is evading us. We never got to see its face. Next!
*Jimi Hendrix guitar riff from All Along The Watchtower that leads into crazy beats and riffs from Rage Against the Machine and leads into all kinds of music from all sorts of bands that only leads back to All Along The Watchtower*
>> When I get really bored I literally start to go into guitar riffs and all sorts of crazy stuff. This also been known to happen whilst reading a book. I was reading a book one day and I noticed that there was music being played in my head…seemingly from my right side…I tried to identify the band and song but as soon as I realized there was music…it faded away only to return when I started to get into the book, its really annoying. Last of all!
Insanity is defined as doing something over and over again expecting a different result. Almost everyone I know who has met Kungfu Bob (or heard about him) has called him insane…as if they expect him to change or something. Maybe he’s just normal and everyone else is insane. That would be awesome. Only the insane thrive, and those who thrive decide what’s insane.
>> I actually thought about this one day when I was pulling weeds or something. I got to show this to Kungfu Bob now. These are basically some of my thought processes…processi…proci…plural for “process”…and I got the idea from when I asked Mocoy why she exactly read all this.
“Mostly because it’s hilarious.”
“Mostly? What’s the other part?”
“To get an inside look at the maze that is your mind.” (Paraphrased there)
“I don’t really think of it as a maze more than a big wide open field that’s being harvested too much.” That’s how I got to all this and it is now ridicously long and probably full of all sorts of errors…ignore those please…thank you. Oh yes, I’m going to be gone…again!…to work at my grandmother’s to earn money for stuff. Then I’m leaving again! Going to Arkansas with my sis to her college because she doesn’t want to go alone so my bro and mother are being dragged along as well. So, I’m going to miss the first day of school and won’t get to catch up and people won’t get to talk to me, BUWAHAHAHAHA…I mean…suckers.
Jul 30, 2005
Surviving One Year Is Nothing, Surviving A Lifetime Is Something
“Do People Have An Innate Respect For A Lifegiving Environment?”
I think there are two extremes to this. Either they do and try to provide one or just don’t care and deep down inside jealous of this kind of environment. There really is no middle ground if thought about long enough. An uber extreme of the not-caring would be the stereotype of a mullet, not shirt, loaded gun, and possibly a brown bag with a bottle of whiskey inside. Typically, if you watch “COPS” you’ll get a glance of this stereotype. Of course, a “lifegiving environment” may be different for some people. Dodging bullets while trying to find your way may seem like a wonderful life because it “weeds out the weak.” All in all, people do have an innate respect for a lifegiving environment, its all just in a difference of opinion, no matter how wrong it may be.
>> As said before, Mocoy gave me this one, she got from some sticky notes on her computer. Now a mental picture might give some notes on the corners and some here and there…nope…the front of her monitor is almost covered in all sticky notes, the only reason you can see anything is because if there were more they’d cover up each other. Yeah, it was Mocoy…Andrea’s birthday yesterday…*insert cliché line*…I got her a slinky, some crème savers, 17 cents because she turned 17 and I didn’t have 17 dollars, two fortune cookies, H.P. Lovecraft stories, and unknown to me a school project tape that I wanted her to see but accidentally wrapped with everything else. Funny pages and duct tape, that’s the way to go, and a makeshift ‘card’ with a crummy poem inside. If you want anything for your birthday, just ask and I’ll give you something random out of my pocket.
I think there are two extremes to this. Either they do and try to provide one or just don’t care and deep down inside jealous of this kind of environment. There really is no middle ground if thought about long enough. An uber extreme of the not-caring would be the stereotype of a mullet, not shirt, loaded gun, and possibly a brown bag with a bottle of whiskey inside. Typically, if you watch “COPS” you’ll get a glance of this stereotype. Of course, a “lifegiving environment” may be different for some people. Dodging bullets while trying to find your way may seem like a wonderful life because it “weeds out the weak.” All in all, people do have an innate respect for a lifegiving environment, its all just in a difference of opinion, no matter how wrong it may be.
>> As said before, Mocoy gave me this one, she got from some sticky notes on her computer. Now a mental picture might give some notes on the corners and some here and there…nope…the front of her monitor is almost covered in all sticky notes, the only reason you can see anything is because if there were more they’d cover up each other. Yeah, it was Mocoy…Andrea’s birthday yesterday…*insert cliché line*…I got her a slinky, some crème savers, 17 cents because she turned 17 and I didn’t have 17 dollars, two fortune cookies, H.P. Lovecraft stories, and unknown to me a school project tape that I wanted her to see but accidentally wrapped with everything else. Funny pages and duct tape, that’s the way to go, and a makeshift ‘card’ with a crummy poem inside. If you want anything for your birthday, just ask and I’ll give you something random out of my pocket.
Two Ton, Sixty Miles An Hour, And My Mind...Anyone See A Problem?
“Thoughts On Political Correctness”
When I was little I figured ‘politically correct’ to be kind of an oxymoron. Then one day someone said to me “You like being policitally correct, don’t you?” The words lost all meaning to me and as far as I know, to be politically correct is to make sure everything is done the way it’s supposed to be. Of course, I think this would be hard to distinquish when everyone is right “in their own way.” Then again, I could be completely wrong, but I just don’t know. As far as I can perceive, most people tend to hate those who are ‘politically correct’ because they’re being corrected and it’s annoying. So, would they rather be ‘politically incorrect’? Since when is it bad to be correct? I wish people would make up their minds because I never seem to know what’s going on. I guess I’m politically correct for the minority.
See? I’ve come accustom to it and formed my own “correct” way, oh the hypocrisy! Get over it, I have.
>> I wrote this in driver’s ed…again…along with another one…on Wednesday, but was too tired to put anything up because of work and being at the DMV for a long time on Friday. I’ll put up the other one today as well as I’m going to be gone all next week, so you can complain but it will get you nowhere. Mocoy gave me this one as well as 4 others, but I only really planned on writing for three of the total five. I didn’t get to start the third one even which means I had to actually pay attention to driver’s ed…or I was sleeping.
When I was little I figured ‘politically correct’ to be kind of an oxymoron. Then one day someone said to me “You like being policitally correct, don’t you?” The words lost all meaning to me and as far as I know, to be politically correct is to make sure everything is done the way it’s supposed to be. Of course, I think this would be hard to distinquish when everyone is right “in their own way.” Then again, I could be completely wrong, but I just don’t know. As far as I can perceive, most people tend to hate those who are ‘politically correct’ because they’re being corrected and it’s annoying. So, would they rather be ‘politically incorrect’? Since when is it bad to be correct? I wish people would make up their minds because I never seem to know what’s going on. I guess I’m politically correct for the minority.
See? I’ve come accustom to it and formed my own “correct” way, oh the hypocrisy! Get over it, I have.
>> I wrote this in driver’s ed…again…along with another one…on Wednesday, but was too tired to put anything up because of work and being at the DMV for a long time on Friday. I’ll put up the other one today as well as I’m going to be gone all next week, so you can complain but it will get you nowhere. Mocoy gave me this one as well as 4 others, but I only really planned on writing for three of the total five. I didn’t get to start the third one even which means I had to actually pay attention to driver’s ed…or I was sleeping.
Jul 26, 2005
My Soap Makes Me Sneeze
“Types Of Friends”
Beneficial: These aren’t really friends and only used for your benefit (hence the name). As good as it sounds, it’s probably best you don’t become too good of friends (at least to them) because they might become a “Disney” friend (see below).
Disney: These aren’t friends either, they just have the dillusion you and everyone else is their bestest buddy. Overly optimistic about everything and deeply believe everything will turn out “OK” no matter what happens (like a Disney movie). These people are just plain annoying and almost blind to the real world around them.
Acquaintance: People you know exist and if absolutely necessary, you can get along with them. If you enter a room, these people are the ones you go to after you look for your Almost Unreal friends (see later). Overall, you probably could care care less about their well being, but don’t know it until they turn Disney or Wannabe (see below)…or even worse a Disnabe.
Wannabe: These are definitely the ones you wouldn’t shed a tear for if something happened to them. These friends follow you around like a lost puppy and you end up being their beneficial friend. These are also the people that have in no way anything in common with you but they want to give off the impression they do anyway. These are usually the ones everyone picks on and abuses.
Almost Unreal: These are the ones that don’t care what you look like, say, do or anything but also aren’t afraid to speak their minds in the same manner. If there was a designated leader amongst them, the rest would follow them to their deaths (well, maybe). These are first people you look for in a room. You all get along so well and somehow find a way to have fun no matter what, it seems almost unreal. These are the people you would start sobbing for if they hadn’t already told you to “Suck it up and live your life the way we always have.” You basically trust these people the most and would prefer to be in their company when you die.
>> I wrote this while in Driver’s Ed way before the first fourth of the class was over. I swear that class is full of idiots, for friends they go under “Not At All.” I’m not sure some of them realize this is a class for learning to become a part of society with a 2-ton metal unit. One guy looks like he’s stoned the whole freaking time……both days! I think I’ve made up for some lost sleep in that class…yeah, I’m ranting about the idiots in that class and I’m sleeping and writing stuff. I think I’m going to need about five prompts tomorrow, speaking of which, Mocoy gave me this under pressure…I think I’ll try that more often.
Beneficial: These aren’t really friends and only used for your benefit (hence the name). As good as it sounds, it’s probably best you don’t become too good of friends (at least to them) because they might become a “Disney” friend (see below).
Disney: These aren’t friends either, they just have the dillusion you and everyone else is their bestest buddy. Overly optimistic about everything and deeply believe everything will turn out “OK” no matter what happens (like a Disney movie). These people are just plain annoying and almost blind to the real world around them.
Acquaintance: People you know exist and if absolutely necessary, you can get along with them. If you enter a room, these people are the ones you go to after you look for your Almost Unreal friends (see later). Overall, you probably could care care less about their well being, but don’t know it until they turn Disney or Wannabe (see below)…or even worse a Disnabe.
Wannabe: These are definitely the ones you wouldn’t shed a tear for if something happened to them. These friends follow you around like a lost puppy and you end up being their beneficial friend. These are also the people that have in no way anything in common with you but they want to give off the impression they do anyway. These are usually the ones everyone picks on and abuses.
Almost Unreal: These are the ones that don’t care what you look like, say, do or anything but also aren’t afraid to speak their minds in the same manner. If there was a designated leader amongst them, the rest would follow them to their deaths (well, maybe). These are first people you look for in a room. You all get along so well and somehow find a way to have fun no matter what, it seems almost unreal. These are the people you would start sobbing for if they hadn’t already told you to “Suck it up and live your life the way we always have.” You basically trust these people the most and would prefer to be in their company when you die.
>> I wrote this while in Driver’s Ed way before the first fourth of the class was over. I swear that class is full of idiots, for friends they go under “Not At All.” I’m not sure some of them realize this is a class for learning to become a part of society with a 2-ton metal unit. One guy looks like he’s stoned the whole freaking time……both days! I think I’ve made up for some lost sleep in that class…yeah, I’m ranting about the idiots in that class and I’m sleeping and writing stuff. I think I’m going to need about five prompts tomorrow, speaking of which, Mocoy gave me this under pressure…I think I’ll try that more often.
Jul 23, 2005
If Marilyn Monroe Was Alive Right Now, What Would She Be Doing?
“If I Could Have A Dinner Party With Three People, Dead Or Alive, I’d Invite…”
The alive ones of course. Now choosing three alive people to invite to a “dinner party” is very difficult. I would have to consider if the people would actually come, so anyone rich, famous, or otherwise is out of the question. I would also have to consider the fact that it won’t be a very good dinner party. I can’t drive anywhere let alone afford to eat anywhere relatively nice. So, I’d have to cook basically everything myself and have the people not mind the cooking. This leaves me left with inviting friends. I don’t mind, in fact, I think I would rather have a “dinner party” with friends than anyone otherwise. Also, it would be more casual and comfortable and everyone can bring their favorite food. Then again, it wouldn’t really be a “dinner party,” more or less a…hmm…well…it wouldn’t be a dinner party whatever it is. Now since I can only invite three for some strange reason, most likely only three can come, I would have to think carefully. Odd as it may sound, I wouldn’t invite all guys, bad things would happen and someone will probably be lit on fire. I would have to invite a girl…better make it two to equalize the spectrum because, lets face it, girls aren’t going to lead to much trouble as four guys. The other person would have to be a guy otherwise I’d get the feeling of being surrounded and be frightened the whole time. I can’t really name any names at the present moment because I really can’t say who (whom?) I’d invite but I think I have a rough idea.
>> I wrote all that to just say “I don’t know.” I asked Mocoy and she gave me this prompt…yes I am aware Mocoy and Giggles have both had their names in their respective blogs, but I have more fun with the names “Mocoy” and “Giggles.” I shall continue to update sporadically because I’m lazy, dying, and……too lazy to name anymore excuses.
The alive ones of course. Now choosing three alive people to invite to a “dinner party” is very difficult. I would have to consider if the people would actually come, so anyone rich, famous, or otherwise is out of the question. I would also have to consider the fact that it won’t be a very good dinner party. I can’t drive anywhere let alone afford to eat anywhere relatively nice. So, I’d have to cook basically everything myself and have the people not mind the cooking. This leaves me left with inviting friends. I don’t mind, in fact, I think I would rather have a “dinner party” with friends than anyone otherwise. Also, it would be more casual and comfortable and everyone can bring their favorite food. Then again, it wouldn’t really be a “dinner party,” more or less a…hmm…well…it wouldn’t be a dinner party whatever it is. Now since I can only invite three for some strange reason, most likely only three can come, I would have to think carefully. Odd as it may sound, I wouldn’t invite all guys, bad things would happen and someone will probably be lit on fire. I would have to invite a girl…better make it two to equalize the spectrum because, lets face it, girls aren’t going to lead to much trouble as four guys. The other person would have to be a guy otherwise I’d get the feeling of being surrounded and be frightened the whole time. I can’t really name any names at the present moment because I really can’t say who (whom?) I’d invite but I think I have a rough idea.
>> I wrote all that to just say “I don’t know.” I asked Mocoy and she gave me this prompt…yes I am aware Mocoy and Giggles have both had their names in their respective blogs, but I have more fun with the names “Mocoy” and “Giggles.” I shall continue to update sporadically because I’m lazy, dying, and……too lazy to name anymore excuses.
Jul 19, 2005
I Was Going To Put Something Here But Forgot
“If I Choose How I Want To Died, I Would Choose…”
I would choose explosion. Not one an explosion where I’m mortally wounded and have no chance of survival and some chick weeps over my half burnt dead corpse. None of that dramatic crap. Straight up oblivion. I wouldn’t know anything was happening and suddenly billions of pieces of me are flying everywhere on fire. You can look at it in a point of view of a free cremation with the bonus of burying a box six in the ground full of nothing. Maybe people will put some pictures in there but I already know what I look like and flowers wouldn’t do me any good. In remembrance, I would want people to light off loud and bright fireworks next to some red paint for effect. Though, no one would be able to wear black at my “funeral,” just way too depressing. Cry, a moment of silence, faded memories, I don’t care but black is just takes it way too far. No alcoholic beverages, people wallowing in that stuff can’t be good. Of course, it’s hard to say if people will actually be wallowing knowing that fact I’m dead, they could very well be dancing on an empty box. Another bonus is I can say “Over my dead body!” and no one can because my body is in a berjillion and a half pieces (that’s a berjillion pieces with half of a piece). Of course, a quicker, easier death would just be a bullet in my head, but then we just got a mess on our hands now don’t we?
>> Yes, there was nothing on Friday or Monday, go cry about it. I got this from Mocoy (amazingly) as we are all running on empty. So, updation may be sporadic. If you have any complaints, come up with some prompts on your own and we’ll talk. How would you choose to die? Yes, this may or may not be a forum/sociological test.
I would choose explosion. Not one an explosion where I’m mortally wounded and have no chance of survival and some chick weeps over my half burnt dead corpse. None of that dramatic crap. Straight up oblivion. I wouldn’t know anything was happening and suddenly billions of pieces of me are flying everywhere on fire. You can look at it in a point of view of a free cremation with the bonus of burying a box six in the ground full of nothing. Maybe people will put some pictures in there but I already know what I look like and flowers wouldn’t do me any good. In remembrance, I would want people to light off loud and bright fireworks next to some red paint for effect. Though, no one would be able to wear black at my “funeral,” just way too depressing. Cry, a moment of silence, faded memories, I don’t care but black is just takes it way too far. No alcoholic beverages, people wallowing in that stuff can’t be good. Of course, it’s hard to say if people will actually be wallowing knowing that fact I’m dead, they could very well be dancing on an empty box. Another bonus is I can say “Over my dead body!” and no one can because my body is in a berjillion and a half pieces (that’s a berjillion pieces with half of a piece). Of course, a quicker, easier death would just be a bullet in my head, but then we just got a mess on our hands now don’t we?
>> Yes, there was nothing on Friday or Monday, go cry about it. I got this from Mocoy (amazingly) as we are all running on empty. So, updation may be sporadic. If you have any complaints, come up with some prompts on your own and we’ll talk. How would you choose to die? Yes, this may or may not be a forum/sociological test.
Jul 14, 2005
Do You Have An Innie, Or An Outtie?
“A Perfect Murder.”
A knife in the chest,
Writhing up to the point,
Stream of blood from the fatal wound,
Blade unshimmering with a tint of black,
Writing left in the hand of the dead,
‘See no more, feel nothing anymore,
Killing in the name of the undesirable.’
The decalaration of suicide,
Leaving no trace of homicide,
The only true knowing eye,
Belonging to the moon and its shine.
>> Kind of pissed off when I wrote this and I guess it’s supposed to be kind of dark, don’t know if I pulled it off though. I was also listening to Rage Against the Machine when writing (if you couldn’t tell in the 7th line). Ironically enough, I felt better after writing this and listening to Rage. Yes it’s short but it’s supposed to also make you think of all the possibilities by giving only very few. Oh, and Mocoy gave this prompt. In case you are wondering, I have an innie.
A knife in the chest,
Writhing up to the point,
Stream of blood from the fatal wound,
Blade unshimmering with a tint of black,
Writing left in the hand of the dead,
‘See no more, feel nothing anymore,
Killing in the name of the undesirable.’
The decalaration of suicide,
Leaving no trace of homicide,
The only true knowing eye,
Belonging to the moon and its shine.
>> Kind of pissed off when I wrote this and I guess it’s supposed to be kind of dark, don’t know if I pulled it off though. I was also listening to Rage Against the Machine when writing (if you couldn’t tell in the 7th line). Ironically enough, I felt better after writing this and listening to Rage. Yes it’s short but it’s supposed to also make you think of all the possibilities by giving only very few. Oh, and Mocoy gave this prompt. In case you are wondering, I have an innie.
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