taxitalk

he started on fire.

2012-01-30T23:39:00.000-08:00

It was my own work holding me back. Making me forget about what really mattered. "What was that again." He Knew what it was. His life had made itself apparent. "Video killed the photographer" it put a smile on his face as he wrote it. "It's all you're fault." He thought of her. Her lips. He smiled again he fantasized. "I know what I want." The thoughts that came to his head overwhelmed him. He looked around for a inkling in what was just and he found it in the reflection on the widow. He could see himself looking through the glass. All the houses outside stood dark. His head silhouetted by the oven light behind him. "Love the light." he looked through himself into her. His heart started racing as he saw the reflection in the mirror. He felt a sensation, a heating on his inner thigh. His senses heightened by her presence.
Seeing her outside made him feel uneasy, he wasn't home alone, he was with his child.
Her presence was begging to be welcomed, "But in the night?" He knew her answer to his life. A smile and a sigh, then a natural glance at one another in traffic. "Well, you're always downtown" his pants started to smolder. Then

2012-01-26T22:35:00.001-08:00

Watch live video from itsyourphoto on www.justin.tv

She wanted to enjoy more of his company

2012-01-21T01:52:00.000-08:00

"We already live there!" the excitement in his voice filled the room, it was overwhelming. There was a crowd of people and everyone was staring. One of the girls sitting over at the pavilion got up and walked out of the auditorium. Everyone one could tell he was not going to back down. "This is not a Utopia!" her voice carried equally powerful across the room except that it broke.
She was much younger then he was, "I'm older then you!" looking at her with his sympathetic eyes. "It's not about anybody but you!" his voice was gentle, the room was back doing it's own thing. "No one every remembers anything unless it's happening to them!" standing looked harder then it was. He's knees buckled. He began to laugh. She looked up at him through her youthful eyes, "I'm going to regret knowing you aren't I?" her question made sense to him. The boy sitting next to her, listening in, didn't understand.
"What?" he asked himself as he watched the man leave, "What the fuck was that guy talking about?" his question wasn't something that lit fires in her mind. "He was thrilling!" her cheeks glowing, afternoon Chapel was letting out. The Pastor was leaving when someone rang the bell. The sound scared her. "Who was that" the noise was unexpected. "I don't know!" she answered, the question came from below her. Everyone started to head back to hear more ........

I just took a shit and here's you're money want the cup cake mister?"

2012-01-05T01:10:00.000-08:00

He opened the window the stench was overwhelming. "Why" He asked without breathing, the fat passenger just sat there staring ahead. "It smells like eggs" the man said, his grotesquely obese hands folded gently in his lap. "My toe hurts" the smell of his breath preceded the stench of his flatulence. The taxi driver just had to keep breathing. It was minus thirty-six degrees Celsius outside, that didn't include the wind chill. "It's been a fucking cold winter eh?" the fat mans mouth speaking scared him. The driver opened the window just a crack. The smell was so awful. "Do you have to keep farting?" it was noxious, the passenger just smiled. Then he bounced a bit. His weight caused the taxi, that was driving up 106th ave, to bounce. It looked like there were hydraulics being used. A police cruiser watched as the taxi rolled by and sprang up almost a foot. "Fuck man!" the driver yelled. "Dude what the fuck you doing?" he looked back to see if the cops were on his ass. They weren't. "They never help when you need them." He envisioned them watching the fat man bounce up and down in the cab and laugh. Their red faces happy, "to have a normal job". The taxi business was getting dangerous. No one had money... except the government workers. They all drove cars too. "I've never driven a government worker" his voice falling on def ears, the fat man was concentrating on fitting his hand into his pocket. "What you looking for?" the question sounded awkward the moment the fat man opened his mouth to answer. "I cup cake!" he said, bucking himself a bit to have more leverage to jam his hand into the tight pocket. "You have a fucking cup cake in there?" his face we turning red, he was becoming completely infuriated. He wanted to close his eyes and pretend all this was just a dream. So he did, the stress had overwhelmed him. The obese man stared ahead. "Open you 're eye's mister." he screamed. The driver listened just in time to avoid hitting a parked car. "That was close!" the stench again ejected into the air. "I can't fucking breath, why do you stink so bad" the fat man turned to him and said "I work for the government, and

Batters up!

2011-12-25T01:11:00.000-08:00

His face was red, it was cold outside.He thought of the two girls he just mangle, he was too jittered to talk about how he felt about what he had done. It started a week earlier. Johny was out looking for a good time. He wanted to enjoy his day a little deeper. School was becoming an easy place to slip a way from. Home economics wasn't doing it for him anymore. He remembered looking out toward the city from his second story class room, "I need to feel that way again!" The girl behind him was listening to the prof reflect, "my husband and I had a hard time squeezing our second child into the budget but we did what we needed to."
It was three thirty in the morning in a late December, and the night was a smear. He stood at the side of the road, there wasn't one car in sight. "I hate this" his voice came out in whisper, the sweat on his face was beginning to freeze. "Let's not go that far!" her voice repeated itself in the back of his mind, over and over again. "Stop it!" he yelled realizing the drugs were going to wear off fast outside in the cold. The two girls were still there, they both left their homes with him that night. He remembered all the boys, "bring them out, Johny, you know they want out man!" He remember the way the girls giggled when he mentioned that the boys wanted to see them. They were younger then he was, and they were new to the neighborhood, their parents were poor, "our dad's looking for work" he remembered one of them saying.
The Taxi's light was visible through the snow, it was getting worse every second. "Stop" he yelled, as the Taxi rolled by. The driver looked worried, "Just get me outta here!" Johny yelled, his head wobbling.

Yoga is my Yoke! for Christmas and Thieves

2011-12-19T00:09:00.000-08:00

The drive back to his house felt longer then usual. He pressed his little cheeks against the windows of the car. The glass was cold. His breath left a fog on the window in front of him as he exhaled. "Shanon?" his mother yelled "what's going on back there, you look sad." He pulled away from the window, looked at his mom sitting in the drivers seat. The traffic was bad, they were sitting in an idle, all he could think about was sliding in the snow. The whole afternoon was such a fun house.
"Mom?" his asked grabbing the paper she had on the seat next to him. "I wanna watch a movie tonight after supper." So did she, "Yeah sweetie that's such a good idea." she stopped behind a black truck. It was running rich, she stopped so close to it they were quietly breathing the stink. "It stinks mom, what is that?" he inquired, "It smells like gas mom." Traffic's slowly pushed forward and she gave the other car room to breath.
"What did you do at school" the question made him think, he thought of his dad, "Nothing! Mom?" he stopped to think about his dad some more. "Who's that guy?" his question peaked her interest. "that guy that came over, who left his guitar?"
That question calmed her and she answered energetically "Oh, that is Greg's guitar! You never met him? That's funny baby that you ask he's Bella's friend!" Shanon just sat in the back listening to Adel, "can I call dad when we get home!" Mom didn't really want to talk to him at all. "Yeah!" her voice whimpered as she reached into her purse and found her cell. "Call him now hun!" her fingers were already finding there way to his number. She placed the phone on speaker and handed the five year old the cell. "I wanted to tell you dad, that I have a guitar, and I'm a gonna watch a movie after we eat our dinner dad!" His little voice overwhelmed him. The joy in the sound of his little boys tone made him blush lightly. "I'm at school Shanon, but I wanna talk to you, are you in the car on your way home?" His question was deliberate, it was to his mother. "Yeah dad, mom just picked me up." He looked at his watch, it was five twenty two. "Did you have a good day at school?"
Shanon was looking out into the traffic holding the phone, his mom was listening, "Shanon" asked his dad, "He's not paying attention Gerald" yelled his mother. "Oh" Gerald's voice broke. They both laughed. "Is he cute?" he asked, looking into the night sky thinking bout the small piece of his heart on his way home. "You know it" answered the boys mother, glancing over at the boy holding the phone in the rear view.
"It's such a long drive home today dad" his yell made her realize that the snow was falling harder and harder, "It's snowing bad." Gerald could see that, "it'll be a while yet little one." he said. "I'm tired dad"

record of heavy drum&bass for midjets that fly!

2011-12-18T04:27:00.000-08:00

"So you think that people well change?" it was the question that he made everyone at the party answer. "Strange!" she said, talking to a stranger, the two women were standing on the balcony of the two story mansion speaking. "Yeah! I agree" They looked at each other. "I'm Melony!" said one to the other reaching her hand out. "Jessica, and yes it's been a pleasure, so what do you think of that little fuck out there?" They both stood staring down at the little man, "He's fucking repulsive!" Her voice was angry enough, that Jessica thought that Mel might have the audacity to do something gross to the man talking to the group of people under them. "Mel, you wouldn't spit on him would you?" Jessica knew that with a little encouragement she could have someone here to drop a bomb on the guy. "He's arrogant enough, you know, he just won't let go!" She stopped to think about it. "But no!" she exhaled in relief "I fucking know better then to spit on him."
"Hey girls!" the voice came from below them, it was him. All they could do was look at one another, "You look beautiful ladies come down meet the public!" They didn't like it one bit, his asking them to come down and talk to the other. "What do you want us to talk about Fredrick?" Jessica asked, her long blonde hair reflected the sun. "It's lunch time girls, you should come down to eat to see what everyone's brought for us to share. "There is food?" Mel could feel her stomach growl, right then she smelt the aroma of some freshly back pastry. "Are they fucking baking?" she yelled, her blue eyes looking down at Jessica. "Wanna go down and eat Jessy?" Immediately Jessica's rolled back. "No, why?" Mel thought about her own question. "That's redundant. Whatever, Jessica let's go eat I'm hunger.!" Jessica sat and frowned, "Mel" she whined, "Don't fucking leave me for him, he's fucking nuts" her voice broke and Mel could see that her eyes were starting to water. "You're scared of him!" she yelled. "No" Jessica screamed.
"Ladies" he yelled from under their feet. "What's the matter, don't you feel hungry, you've been up there for such a long time." He stopped to breath and turn from them. Looking over the landscape the two could see the sun casting a shadow behind everything. He turned back at them. The sun warming the back of his head. "What's happening?" his voice was become sharper, her was beginning to feel the anxiety. "Mel, you're ready, go eat!"
Her stomach grunted loud enough to be heard by both of them, Mel laughed. "Jessica, what are you so scared of?" the question cooled her. "Scared?" Jess asked, " you think I'm scared?" Mel shook her head yes. "Yeah, yeah I do!"
They could hear him, he was holding his keys to the door downstairs, "What the fuck you doing Fred" asked Mel, she had to yell to make sure he heard her. "I'm coming up girls!" he said just as he turned the key to the lock. Mel smiled hearing the sound of the door, it was familiar to her, she could feel it's weight. Jessica jumped the moment they heard it shut. "He's in the house!" fear was filling her eyes. "Jessy calm down, you can't be serious, are you scared of him like that" she could tell her questions were redundant, "Jessy you're fucked, he's not that bad!" she stopped "what did he do to you?" the question came as the door to the bedroom that lead to the balcony was being pushed open.

Chad Left his roll up the rim cup

2011-12-17T20:16:00.000-08:00

"What up Chad?" the man in the overalls felt cut off. "Who's this?" he stopped and looked, "Neil!" the two stood in the tim hortons entrance. "What's up Chad?" Neil could tell that Chad didn't want to talk. "What's up?" then the girl walked and Neil understood. "Oh" Neil grunted "I see!" He looked at the pair and remembered the house off Groat road. "So Chad you still doing it?" he asked, Chad blushed and the girl looked disoriented. "How old is she?" he asked. "Nancey?" he answered pulling her in closer, smearing her across his work clothes. "What are you doing Chad?" she screamed. The three tables occupied by four elderly couples all looked over at the threesome. "Shut up Nancey and be a good girl!" Chad's voice let off that he was getting excited, the red in cheeks made Neil remember. "Chad let me go!" Nancey's face looked scared. Neil remember what he made him do. "Let her go Chad!" his tone echoed through the room. Even the kitchen staff were out watching what was to happen, Chad looked around. "Here take her" letting her go, her blouse was covered in what Chad had on his overalls. She ran to Neil, he grabbed her.

innate warship of monkey's from Texas

2011-12-17T05:05:00.000-08:00

She actually recognized him first, "Hey," she spoke over the noise in the bar. "Hey, is your name John?" she was dressed in the tightest outfit, he could see ever inch of her body. "Yeah, that's me!" he smiled, he had forgotten her. "You still with that guy?" he asked. He remembered that she was in a relationship, except that was over a year ago. "Yeah, yeah I'm still with him." He knew they had a shitty relationship. "So how did things pan out with you and Laura?" she asked him. He remembered that she was there the first time he set his eyes on her. It made him laugh, "oh yeah! You were there the first time we met." He stopped to think about it. He was doing the same thing as he was doing the year before, so was she, kinda,"So no more coat check?" he asked, she was the front beer tub girl. It was still early there wasn't enough traffic coming into the bar for her to have to ignore him.
"You're still with her eh?" she was surprised, and she was smiling. "Yeah, yeah we're still together, we cut each other off all the time, but she's a writer and..." he stopped, the words were in his mouth. "I love her" he smiled. "I was hung up on someone I used to know when I met you two!" She looked down at him, the beer tub was oozing Budweiser. "I think we're addicted to a certain kind.... the same kind" the music was to loud for her to hear him. Yelling she said "She is definitely one of the most sincere girls ... I" she squinted, her eyes flaring, he felt the back draft. The glare disturbed him. "You'll ever meet!". He smiled at her, looking up, through her nylon clothing. "You're right!" he said "I got to go to work now" he unpacked his gear and did what does.....

That's good I'll be your kindergarten teacher

2011-12-13T02:24:00.000-08:00

"We are a cheap pickle waiting to happen" she wanted to draw out a laugh. The little boy in the back seat was not having it. "Hey Georgy, what's up?" his little cheeks were bright red, flush from the heat in the car. It made her smile. "Wanna go to MC.Donald's.?" She asked expecting cheers. "No" was the response she got, "What?" she snarled glaring into the rear view mirror. He was too little to care about her eyes. "Georgy you're five right?" she asked. He looked toward the rear view mirror and made eye contact from directly behind her. He was sitting in a booster seat. "Yes! I'm five" the music on the radio was a song he knew. She watched him move with the rhythm, "you're a great dancer." That made him smile. "Dad say's that MC.Donald's is bad for me!" His voice squeezed her heart, she understood the innocents. "Oh! That's why you don't want to go and have a happy meal." She saw his father in her mind alone and relentless. "Don't think it's good for you eh!" The little boy's eyes shined in the dimness of the gray winter afternoon light.
"I wanna see my mom!" he said to her. "Settle down!" she shouted, it came out angry. "What did I say?" he asked innocently, buckled into the back seat of the Suburban. Fear started overcoming her, she could remember the way his father made her feel. "Do you remember when I took you to the park?" she remembered the lightning storm three years earlier. "Do you remember when you where two?" she asked him, he sat in the back watching the light fade and the ambiance made by the evening traffic reminded him of his mother. "I remember the storm!" his little voice made her smile. "When are we gonna go to my dad's" The question un nerved her. "I just need you to help me find something back at home" she said pulling the black truck into her garage. The little boy had a vague memory of where he was, "I'm five now" he said as she took off the restraints. "I go to school now!"

a company I did a billboard for broke my back

2011-12-10T01:59:00.000-08:00

She stood under the sign breathing heavy. She was on top of the world for the first time and at that moment she remembered. It was the only time in her life that she felt that way. "Baby, when I saw my picture on that board overlooking the city I thought I had it all." He looked at her thinking. "What do mean?" he asked frowning "don't you have it all right now?" She exhaled, and frowned along side him. Then they both smiled at each other. "No" her eye's looking away "No! I don't feel like I have anything left." Her attitude made him feel rejected. "I love you baby, and I thought your Picture was great!" He stood up and walked towards her. "Can I sit next to you?" he asked, pushing her over. "Yeah baby, come here" she reached her hand toward him. "I love you baby" he said falling into her, then they cuddled. "why don't you think that you have it all? We're not hungry, we're not angry, you're working as a graphic designer!" She knew how he felt about life.
"The billboard meant so much and it made me have something to work for and I thought that it would free me." He knew what she was taking about. "Yeah well, you're lucky anyway!" he told her pushing her body closer to his.
"You know we are lucky because.." he stopped, "well we got this house too!" he looked around, outside the the windows they were sitting so close to. He could see the whole city around him and it was beyond beautiful and she knew that. "I know you love this place baby so why aren't you happy?" his question bothered her, she knew why.
"I" she stopped, her body was feeling suffocated by his hugs. He squeezed her even closer and it made her feel better. "Baby I love you." she said in a whisper.

Just take your meds!

2011-12-09T02:02:00.000-08:00

"It's just so gross!" his mom told him. "Henry, you know we can't have this kind of thing don't you" She was talking about his drug use. "What do you mean mom!" he understood her, but he wanted her to say it. He could tell she didn't want to. "Just do it, come on hun! Be a good sport and listen to me when I say that it's just gross" Her eyes were glued to his, and it made him sick. "What's wrong with it mom?" the question infuriated her, her face flushed with rage. It made him laugh, "hey mom, you know what dad called you when you get all angry like this" her face grew redder as the words fell out of his mouth, "BULL!"
In that instant she wanted to give up, she could see it in his face, that rage, his fathers contempt. "Henry" she demanded, "What do you want mom?" SHe looked at him, her heart racing, "I'm not a bull!" the words relaxed her. She started to breath. "Breath mom" he said. She laughed, "Listen Henry, I know you don't want to listen to me, but you have to." she leaned in closer. "Get the fuck away from me mom, I don't want to do it. I'm fucking sixteen years old." he stopped, She stood up looking at him. "Listen you gotta do it, you're father is out of the picture." He thought about him, where he was. "Yeah!" his voice broke, the image of him,, his father and mother together dawned in his mind, "Take them Henry!" The words broke through the horizon and fear seized him, "He'll come back!" he said looking her right in the eye, "Now go fuck yourself." Her eyes began to water, and she began to cry but she wasn't leaving his room. "Do it please, just do it for me!" she begged him, they were alone in the small apartment. "He stood up and looked at her."
"Fuck mom, why?" he asked, looking over her shoulder, profiling her cheek and staring past her ear into the the hallway behind her. "i don't want to live with you anymore!" she shook her head. "Please, Henry!" it made him laugh. "What do you want!" he asked again now trying to push by her "I just want to get out of here." he wasn't lieing and she knew that. "This'll fix it son!" she was right, he'd just end up going back to bed. "I don't want to do it mom" now struggling to push past her, "Henry" she yelled holding on to him with both hands, "Please"

I killed it!

2011-12-08T00:43:00.000-08:00

"You know I feel the best when I'm with you?" Jessica knew what he was talking about. The two of them had been together for six years already. "Remember how well we did in school together," she remember looking at him. "You always were so patient when you were helping me study!" it was true, she was so patient. She liked him so much, she used to write his notes for him. "Do you remember?" he demanded, he was always such a screamer, she hated it. "Yeah!" she though about the two of them. "You were always so willing to learn." She remembered why, "you never showed up to class." They looked at each other.
"Jessica, it doesn't matter, I gota good job." She thought about it. He was sitting on the couch in front of the TV. He was going bald. "You're going bald!" it came out of her in a smirk. She couldn't help but laugh. "You've been with me for six years and you just realizing that I'm losing hair now?" He looked at himself in the mirror. "it's hasn't gotten worse since you got pregnant the first time." He reminder her, "so?" she asked, "So what?" he asked back sounding tough. "So what'd you think?" He knew what she was talking about. "I don't know." He didn't know what to think. It upset him. "I really don't know." His voice sounded shattered. "I'm not ready, baby, but I have a good job!" He pushed his head between her breasts like a child. "That's what got you into this mess." Her hand gripping the patch of hair he had left and pulling, "Ahhhh, stop that" he laughed. They looked at eachother, "it's you, you're the reason." She was, she thought, she loved to pull his hair, "Fuck Ryan! How are we going to deal with this?" She didn't know either. She didn't know how to tell him the truth. "Umm, I think we can deal with it" he was right, the two of them had done it once before. "Remember, the rocky mountains, Oh God." They both remembered, she looked at him, "yeah baby I'll never forget." But she wanted to forget, she needed to tell him how she felt, "Why?" she asked..
"Why what?"" he answered ready to go back toward her, push close to her, to touch her. He rose to touch her and as he did she raised her hand to push him away. "What's wrong" looking at her, "I know we're not ready, but we can do this." She knew he was right. "You need faith baby." he knelt down low before her, she started crying, "You need to have faith for the baby" he said on his knees. Tears fell from Jessica eye's. She just Kept crying, "Ryan!" she asked. "What?"

something unexpected

2011-12-07T23:03:00.000-08:00

It hurt so bad, her rejection. "She didn't know me!" it was all I could say. "She's lucky" he only thought so because he realized that they usually don't. "Not before they fall in love" he was sitting alone at the table. There was no one at the school. It was empty. He had been studying for the last, three hundred years. He wanted to graduate. "I need nine more credits!" It was unbelievable. The idea of having to go back to school for nine more credits blew his mind. "This is unbelievable" the echo of the empty building made him laugh. "Fuck no one cares about this bullshit!" he was right. The only person who enjoyed events like this were the women at the registrars office. "Fuck" he thought about them. "Six old ladies" they all knew him. He was certain that one of them had led him astray. He was right. but only because they wanted to fish him in.

"He has a nice ass!" said one of the more mature looking women in the office to the other.

It was the Christmas season and all the lights in the trees were lighting up the the area around the cubicles. Everyone in the office was wearing the most precious smiles. "Merry Christmas." they cheered almost as soon as they made eye contact with you. "I'm here to talk to the registrar" the woman behind the desk handed me a paper. He looked at it "a questionnaire asking me for my id information. Lindsy?" He made eye contact with the young woman. She was sitting behind the desk, there was no one else waiting, "do we have to go through with this every time?" She just nodded her head. She made him laugh. "you're lucky you're not ugly! Or Id hate you lady." She smiled. She felt that the comment was out of place, but because there was no one there she enjoyed the compliment. He didn't like her at all, but he thought she was hot. He smiled at her and she waved him off, "have a seat." all the chairs were pushed up against the back of room. He sat down and fiddled with his eye phone while she watched. She was pretending to work on the computer, but it was three days before the Christmas Vacation was going to start and there really was nothing to do. He waited for six minutes before the adviser showed up. She was smiling. They all always just smiled.
"Come in" she said all happy and polite, her purple blouse was silk and she wore matching shoes. Her hair was purple too, "come in" they both sat down , "so what the conflict with the scheduled" her face was withered but she didn't use too much make up, she had a very peasant nature about her. "It seems I'm not going to graduate because of nine credits, Ive looked over..." He pulled out the 2012 calendar and read off all the requirements, "I need two senior electives, and I thought I had them, I thought I was gong to graduate this year" she looked over the paper . "Yes" she exhaled "Yes, I bet you did!" it didn't sound like he was going to be getting around it."No, you actually have to take several more course, not enough for a full course load, but yes, a few more courses." It made him feel sick. Nausea filled his senses and all he wanted to do was vomit on the desk. "You ok" her eyes actually showed concern, but more of a terror that be might sick up on her blouse. They were trapped in the room together, she didn't mind and he could not tell what was going to happen to him ten months in the future. "I guess we'll be seeing you next semester" it excited him, and her!

Killingkrackbabies.com bitch!

2011-12-07T09:50:00.000-08:00

There is this place in the world where I really like to be. I never get to go there, and whenever I try I end up having to come back here to live the way they make us. I want to be different, I don't want a responsibility. I want progress I want money. She was beautiful the day I met her. It wasn't just her eyes. I could tell she was living in love. I was drunk and the moment I laid eye's on her I knew. "Wanna fuck?" were my first words, she had these big tits. I fucking still like big tits. But now when I see hers I remember, there is places I won't be going back to. I'm not the only one who goes around living on the edge of the things he loves. I used to do drugs, I used to get so fucked up I watched the Atlas on the wall, the picture of the planet drawn out and mapped out, spin. I was fucked up on speed that my doctor gave me, I asked him and he hooked me up. It was legit. I was legit. I remember the first time I went back to a doctor after sobering up. He said "I'll put you back on the stimulants, we're gonna have to start slow though and go back to your preferred dose over a period of six months. My preferred dose was an overdose, he knew that. The pharmaceutical companies don't mind kids who like to crank out a term paper on crack. I didn't take the drugs, I was scared and the last time I ravaged what I wanted she got pregnant. Fucking big tits.... what can I say. I didn't even understand what I had until I met someone that took it all away.
A few years back I had what God told me not to take. I couldn't help it, it just jumped in. I was sitting alone in my car, in the front seat there one minute, and there she was sitting next to me snuggled believing in my front seat the next minute. At that time I was driving a taxi, a father, feeding a baby that I made from the last girl that wanted to see things through my eyes, from my front seat. I have eyes that God gave me to see, to teach people to whisper to each other. To Tell them we all fall in love eventually. Love is fleeting and it's fetched, it's seen, it jumps into front seats. I know love, I live in it. Can you see it?
Now when I see a picture of the places I really want to be I just look away and imagine myself there. I know it's cold where I'm really from, but that's better then way to hot to see. I live in a loving world that's warm enough for me. I don't live with those people from the frozen tundra, in the soulless void of knowledge and money. I don't let them tell me that we're anywhere different then heaven. Only a few people get to bring that place with them when they fall. I did. I required certain skills to control it, not to get every girl I meet pregnant. I love those who have seen it through our eyes. I loved so many people. Why did I fall here, to see who's winning, to change minds on control and to believe that this is the most awesome thing to witness and to tell those people that think they can control everything that they can't. You can only watch and see, you have a choice, and that's to know. I know where I am from and where I'm going. To those who forget that I take everything with me no matter if you're trying to hide it or not, I can see you and I know you. You will always know me first.

Eighteen to Twenty

2011-12-06T02:04:00.000-08:00

Through the narrative techniques of Jane Austen and Charlotte Bronte, we are introduced to Jane and Emma, two nineteenth century women, proceeding through life in two different ways, each growing towards their own individuality, in the process of courtship. Jane and Emma’s characteristics are developed from two different perspectives of class throughout most of the novels Jane Eyre and Emma. Both characters have ideals that conform to their authors view on modern progress. The protagonist’s choices of partners reflected what the women understood about their relationships with the opposite sex in the nineteenth century. Stepping out of the box and into the novel both Bronte and Austen introduce their audience to the real world and reveal a window overlooking a life of the nineteenth century woman.

The young women, portrayed by Austen and Bronte, live in the same society just fill different positions in the class system. Jane Eyre unravels itself around the trials and tribulation of a poor orphaned yet strong willed governess. Austen places Emma in a much more opulent position in the world, she say’s “The real evils indeed of Emma’s situation were the power of having rather too much her own way, and a disposition to think a little too well of herself; these were the disadvantages which threatened alloy to her many enjoyments.”(7) Bronte see’s Jane’s position in the world as strange and exciting “Probably, if I had lately left a good home and kind parents, this would have been the hour when I should most keenly have regretted the separation: that wind would then have saddened my heart… I wished the wind to howl more wildly, the gloom to deepen to darkness and then confusion to rise to clamour.”(65) Eyre uses the difficulties presented to her as ways to strengthen her ability to cope with adversity. Throughout her novel Bronte develops a perspective that allows the reader to attribute strength to adversity and not base it on class. Austen does it too, except from the other end of the class system, she explains

After these came a second set; among the most come-at-able of whom were Mrs. And Miss Bates and Mrs. Goddard, three ladies almost always at the service of an invitation from Hartfield, and who were fetched and carried home so often that Mr. Woodhouse thought it no hardship for either James or the Horses.”(21)

Looking at Emma from Jane Eyre ‘s perspective Emma reflects many similarities in opinion to Jane’s younger pupil Adele. Emma has a lot to learn about the true virtues that are to be reflected by the nobility. Austen writes about how Emma meets Robert Martin,

His appearance was very neat, and he looked like a sensible young man, but his person had no other advantage; and when he came to be contrasted with gentleman. She thought he must lose all the ground he had gained in Harriet’s inclination. (31)

Mr. Rochester bestows Jane Eyre with his good will in the appropriate master servant manner according to Bronte; Miss. Eyre would have it no other way but to leave respectfully after Rochester say’s,

I saw in you eyes when I first beheld you: their expression and smile did not… ‘strick delight to my very inmost heart so for nothing. People talk of natural sympathies; I have heard of good gennii: there are grains of truth in the wildest fable. My cherished preserver, good night!’(177)

The female authors are acknowledging that the true virtues that reinforce the reasons for class are not material or superficial, but are imbedded in the commitment to maintain the well being of everyone around them, and to nourish those who are successful in supporting others.

While focusing on the main characters of their novels Austen and Bronte reflect their opinions of the process of social intercourse. After a short visit with Mrs. Elton Emma decides,

Mrs. Elton was a vain woman, extremely well satisfied with her self, and thinking much of her own importance; that she meant to shine and be very superior, but with manners which had been formed in a bad school, pert and familiar; that all her notions were drawn from one set of people, and one style of living; that if not foolish she was ignorant, and that her society would certainly do Mr. Elton no good (253)

These are Austen’s ideals, this is one way for Emma to expose that education, and cultural style has a significant bearing on the level of virtue found in a good person. Bronte confronts the same issues form a different direction,

It is vain to say human beings ought to be satisfied with tranquility: they must have action; and they will make it if they cannot find it…Women are supposed to be very calm generally: but women feel just as men feel; they need exercise for their faculties, and field for their efforts as much as their brothers do…and it is narrow-minded in their more privileged fellow-creatures to say that they ought to confine themselves to making puddings and knitting stockings, to playing on the piano and embroidering bags. (129-30)

Jane Eyre humbly opens our mind to accept that things change. In an ideal world where Jane Austen and Charlotte Bronte are both content, people moving up in class do so with the an ambition to grow culturally and with manners.

What the women come to understand about themselves throughout the novel allows the girls to mature into potential brides; the choices these female protagonists make in spouses represents their authors view on men. Emma’s goal was to pawn Harriet off to the highest bidder. Mr. knightly always saw through the façade Emma created and held the idea that Mr. Marine would have Harriet because he loved her. Even Toward the very end of the novel Emma is not prepared for what Mr. Knightly has to say about the two,

“You are prepared for the worst, I see—and very bad it is. Harriet Smith marries Robert Martin.” Emma gave a start, which did not seem like being prepared –and her eyes, in eager gaze said, “No, this is impossible!” but her lips were closed.

Austen has Emma struggle with her acceptance with Mr. Martin right to the very end of the novel. Mr. Knightly insists that she understand him before they can be bound in matrimony. Jane Eyre is called back to a broken Mr. Rochester, who calls himself “a Vulcan – a real blacksmith, brown, broad-shouldered; and blind and lame into the bargain.’”(509) Jane doesn’t mind the way Rochester looks even after the fire. He tries to shake her away from him in all his ugliness when Jane say’s, “I shuddered involuntarily, and clung instinctively closer to my blind but beloved master. He smiled.”(511) Rochester needs to know how Jane feels about him and his deformities; just like Mr. Knightly need to know that Emma understands why Mr. Martin is the right man for Harriet. The novels develop the sense of love then they answer the question of who to marry.

The eighteenth century female protagonist could be from any class, as long as she had a character with heart; according to Austen and Bronte the female hero of a nineteenth century novel has the potential to marry the man of her dreams. Emma overcomes a series of adversities and obstacles that are fundamentally different from the journey Jane Eyre needs to take. Their dreams come true. The two authors use different yet dynamic ways to portray perspectives of young females growing up in the same period in history. Jane and Emma get married to men they love and cherish. Bronte and Austen end their story on happy notes that open the minds of generations of young women to come.

Work Cited

Austen, Jane "Emma". London:Penguin Classics, 1996. Print.

Bronte, Charlotte “Jane Eyre”. London:Penuin, 1996. Print.

in spanish class

2011-12-06T01:52:00.000-08:00

It was getting colder in the classrooms over the past several days, the weather was changing. "So?" she asked sitting in a chair in the university cafeteria. "You ready for finals?" her breath was so bad I didn't know what to do. "No not really" I was moving away, scootching over with my ass. I didn't want to sit next to her. "What's on the agenda, I didn't take the question sheet from the prof." She looked up at me, face full of pimples eyes so wide, looking at me through these thick glasses. I remember the professor didn't know what to do with the both of us. She put us in a group whether we liked it or not. She was OK with it I could tell. She was ugly, Fat, and she was wearing a cast. "I don't know" she said, "I didn't get one either" she waved her pen through her finger rather gracefully. She knew what the assignment was about, but she didn't want to tell me. "I'm your partner!" I shouted it, loud, Like a boy, with a temper. She laughed at me. So did two other girls on the other side of the tables. I looked at her, she looked back at me wide eyed with those thick glasses. I laughed, it pissed her off. I could tell. "You have the highest mark in the class, you know what you're doing, tell me what's up!" She didn't want to, she just sat on the table, waving her legs. I wanted the legs of the table to break, to drop her, I was angry, she was laughing at me. It was twenty to six. The class was starting in ten minutes. "We have to do our homework" she laughed at me again, "I'm done, asshole." She got off the table, it bent. I laughed, she hated me. She went to class, I watched her. It was five to six when I got in to the room. I was on coffee, I felt good, I had a chocolate bar. I had a shitty mark, not an overall great average. I don't care enough to sit in front. I try not to sit in the back. And there she was, her fat ass taking up the best seats in the second and third row. I fucking blew a gasket. The Prof took us outside. I made her cry. Tears in her eyes, I sat where she was. I made her cry.

he hung up on her

2011-12-04T02:18:00.000-08:00

"you'll fall back in love eventually" he said to himself, he was getting sick of sitting in his apartment alone. "I almost preferred seeing her every day." She was back at home, with her family, far away from him. He looked back to the internet to see what he would see. He Googled her name. She didn't use facebook anymore, "Not since she left the country." The sounds of his roommates dog came in through the walls. "I'm moving next week" he wanted to hear the sound of that, "ah... let's tweet it." The information evoked lots of reaction from his followers.
Cattingitdown replied "Where too, asshole?" The two of them were on good terms. He did want to tell his whole social network that he was going to be moving back to the old house. Except he didn't want to tell them that it was because she had moved away and left him.
Looking over his email he saw that his mom was on Gmail. She was on the internet too now, talking, facebook too. "Even had your picture taken by a pro" was the first thing he said when he saw her pop on screen. She laughed, they both did, and they talked about what he was cooking, how he was doing at work. She was gone and it was visible that he had lost a piece of himself in the separation.
"I need two hundred thousand dollars." Typically he started high, he didn't care about what she was going through. "There is a future in this!" she laughed. He was right, if he wanted it, something, anything he was always right. "I don't have that kind of money!" He watched her words roll of her tongue. It made him feel sick. The two were three thousand kilometers apart. "I can see you mom" his mind never waiver in it's amazement, he was angry. "I just bought a new house" she said to him. Her face was flush, so was his. "I know, I know" He looked away and picked something up. It was a magazine. He hung up and called his Friend "Hey Felmont!"
They met at Loonies the local tavern, "So she's gone eh?" Felmont concluded just seeing the look on his face. "You look like shit and you stink" the expression made everyone look him over, Felmont just laughed. They sat down and started to drink beer. Felmont sat filling the glasses with the house Ale. It was delicious he thought listening to Felmont tell him about his last relationship.
"You see" he said slurring his words "I haven't told you about it yet" he stopped and started to think. Looking over his face you could recognize he was a handsome man, but his youth was being wasted away and pitched back into the bar night after night. "I didn't tell you bout her because she was so much older then me." His sweaty drunk face made him look like a red tumor. "She wants me so bad." The two were at the bar when Felmont ordered a shot of Tequila. They were used to drinking together.
Towards midnight he began to feel the natural way..... He passed out, Felmont found his wallet and paid for another round then took a cab home.

He was reading her tweets!

2011-12-03T14:41:00.000-08:00

It was the last time they talked, "WHat a mess!" The words echoed in the empty room. He was getting lonely, he even left a message on his cousins Facebook page to wish her a happy birthday. "We never see each other, only Jason gets to go to Italy." He was right, he was alone. Well not entirely, he had his friends.
"What's up?" his tiny i phone was all he had. "Fuck, yeah! Yeah!, so wanna do something for Christmas, ...No ... Yeah, Yeah I understand, yeah I wish I was going too, but I can't afford it." After hanging up he realized he was back in the same empty room, "Twitter eh?" this was a question, that he knew the answer to. "It's all I got," looking over his phone, "I love you!." tweet, " So logging on is better then logging off, "I don't want to kill myself," he said as he looked over a vile of fifty Dexedrine piles. "but I don't wanna pretend without anyone here to help me."
Amanda was always down to tweak out, she was sick and her dad ate her pills before she even got to see em. "So you're being orphaned this year?" Her long brown hair was tangle, but she was skinny and she brought coffee, and she loved to watch the x files. "Let's start a twitter page!" she said, iridescently stoned, she was glowing, and he was happy not to be alone. "Yeah!" He stopped and looked at her, "Are we gonna take off our clothes?" it was a good question. She liked him, and it was Christmas. "Probably, how many pills you got?" Her fingers rolled over the prescription label, "it say's there is three refills. ha" it was funny, they both laughed. he looked at her, "I have a week off work" They both laughed again. She was sitting on the sofa texting something somewhere onto the internet.
They knew each other in real life, as well well as on the internet. It's where they met, well kinda. They met on the bus, "Public transport, I fucking can't stand public transport" she was watching him yell. He was drunk and so was she. She was with her friends. They were on their way to a party, the whole bus was full of kids. It was a Friday night, "I hate public transport" he did, she could tell, she was watching him from across the nine. He remembered the first time he saw her.
"We were on that bus, to that party remember" he stalled, "I was drinking!" She smiled remembering, "I remember the day" he said breaking her thought. "What are you gonna do?" she asked, looking high and smiling. He was already on the computer. "I remember you were tweeting that night, every time I caught you looking you'd talk about it" he thought about it, "I didn't understand the technology back then, I'm going back to read it." She blushed. "I said I liked you......you didn't understand public transport" She watched as he reviewed the two year old tweets. "It say's here" he said reading "No use trying to be a tyrant, were all on the same train!" He laughed out loud."I was so drunk that night, and I fucking hate the train you know that. "Yes" she said pretty, "I also like you when you're a tyrant." she laughed at him. They were both alone.

Living!"

2011-11-27T01:35:00.000-08:00

"SO the soul lives there eh? " he asked in a snarly way. We were together again. I missed him too much to let him go. "You know I found someone else, don't you?" I just shook my head and laughed. I knew he had met so many women. It was his job, to go out and meet people. He was so good with the women. He wasn't even that handsome. His last girlfriend never cared, but then again she was cheating on him. He was such a faithful lover. I remember because I wanted him so bad when I first laid my eyes on him, except he was with her.
"Yeah baby that's where the soul lives." I knew he understood where I was going with this, but he was slow, so I had to explain. "OK you ready?" He hated when I talked down to him but he tolerated it whenever I was defining things for him. "OK" he sat down and watched me. He had these perfect young eyes. "So" I said, he was looking at my butt. I could tell, he smiled when I jiggled it. That's the kind of thing I really liked about him, he liked my ass, genuinely liked it, and it's not that great. "OK, so you sold her your soul right?" My questions always seemed to puzzled him.
"Well" he answered. "She fucked me first, then she bought me lots of stuff, it was stuff I needed so I'm not sure if I sold her my soul." His face winced after he said those last word. "So did you sell her your soul?" I asked him expecting him to be honest, that was another one of his better traits, he was honest. "Yes I guess" his face always seemed to darken when he thought back to the two of them together. "So did you ever fuck her to get something?" I knew he had, I remember he told me "I can't see her anymore see's making me feel like shit. She keeps calling me stupid, and worthless." I couldn't believe my ears when I first heard about that. All I could think was, Ditch, I even said to him "take off! she's old saggy and rotten." I could tell back then that she owned him.
When I first saw them together I understood what he was talking about when he said things like "She is out of my league" He was right, she was way to old for him. But he figured "she's settled, she can help me with him!" He was right too, she was so good with his son. He was a young dad, babies mama! Forget it, she wants to stay a single mother, except there is no way that baby was going to be anything other then a crutch for a single woman like her. Looking back at him, when I first met him I understood what he saw in her, "Stability" he said solemnly.
"So, you sold her your soul?" I said looking at him, I could tell he didn't want to but he acknowledged me. "Yeah she's got it!" his voice was meek, he wanted to reach out, scream "No" but that wasn't going to happen. "I sold her my soul" he stopped, looked over at the sun, "what am I suppose to do!" I looked at him happy, he finally admitted to being a creature of darkness. "it's OK, listen, so, she bought your soul, but while you were fucking her, you stole her heart right?" I knew that old bat, even though she was destroying his spirit, loved him. "She gave me everything" he said smiling. I could tell she had corrupted him the first time we made love. He knew what he liked and the way he wanted me, I listened then like I do now. "She was submissive?" I inquired, knowing the answer, asking to move him out of our comfort zone. "You were the boss in bed, weren't you?" he didn't want to answer me. "Weren't you?" I asked again. He finally looked up and said "yes". It made me laugh, all his shyness, he was beautiful, his love for a woman who lied, cheated and stole from him, a woman that corrupted him, for a woman who would not accept what he was inside. "So, listen, you sold her your soul but you stole her heart right?" I watched as his face grew redder and redder. He didn't understand where I was going with this. "Where does the soul live?" I asked at the height of what looked like his anxiety. He laughed and said.... "i don't know!" So I told him, with a little hesitation "the heart... That's were you can find the home for the soul, you stole it back... so don't worry, you still have it." I looked at him, "I know you do, I love you baby!" His face got so red and he kept blushing when he told me "I'll give you my heart as long as you never think life is about surviving! Life" he yelled "is about

How did they make change 101

2011-11-22T13:09:00.000-08:00

How did they make change 101

Willkie Collins and Charles Dickens both disagreed with the way Britain proceeded with colonizing the rest of the world; the two authors portray their opinions, relating to foreign affairs, from opposite sides of the conflict. Collins presents us with Seringapatam on the brink of the turning of the century; he identifies the instigator of the original theft of the moonstone as an able, white, British soldier. Dickens brings us into the untidy world of Caddy, exposing us to her trials with Mrs. Jellyby, the irresponsible mother lost in Brrioboola Gha, Africa. We are given Ezra Jennings by Collins as the ignoble bearer of truth, whose life is fulfilled by his respectably being acknowledged by the nobility he so desperately yearns to be a part of. Acknowledging that there was conflict throughout the way the British Empire was spreading its ideals into eastern culture spotlighted the problems within colonialism and made them relevant for everyone to reflect upon.

Collins begins his novel in seventeen ninety-nine with a letter written by an unknown and un identified author calling out to his loved ones during a treacherous time of war between the British army and the indigenous people of Seringapatam. The writer of the letter demands that his family take a second look at his cousin John Herncastle. A man, the narrator writes, who presumably murdered three monks to steal a rock. The rock or Monnstone is supposedly cursed and beyond that the concerned family member ads “It is my conviction, or my delusion, no matter which, that crime brings its own fatality with it. I am not only persuaded of Herncastle’s guilt; I am even fanciful enough to believe that he will live to regret it, if he keeps the Diamond; and that others will live to regret taking it from him, if he gives the Diamond away.” (16) The letter is a warning; a document produced just in case the Moonstone finds itself settling into a jewelry box of a close relative. Collins is warning us that the letter represents a reflection of the attitudes of western culture and they are unacceptable. He lets us see the Diamond as not just a relic or lost stone but an Indian treasure that maintains the ideals of the noble and honest past.

John Jarndyce introduces Esther into the “amanuensis” (39) world of Miss. Jellyby, the seriously depressed daughter of a woman so wrapped up in Africa she forgets she’s living in London. Mrs. Jellyby the mother of who knows how many children is a philanthropist with a vision. The house she lives in is a testament to her character. She sees herself fulfilling her duty to society by attempting to maintain and perpetuate the British class system by moving it along to Africa. Mrs. Jellyby is so obsessed with upholding the appearance of her virtues that she overlooks her obligations to her family. Mrs. Jellyby even admits to devoting all of her energy to the project. She say’s,

The African project at present employs my whole time. It involves me in correspondence with public bodies, and with private individuals anxious for the welfare of their species all over the county… It involves the devotion of all my energies, such as they are, but that is nothing, so that it succeeds, and I am more confident of success every day.(38)

One thing she forgets to mentions through her talk with Miss. Summerson is that she also employs young Miss. Caddy Jellyby to labor over the bureaucracies of the her business. Miss. Jellyby is forced into working to help her mother succeed in her endeavor. Caddy is unhappy with her life helping her mother. She is aware of the degradation her mother’s endeavors are causing their family. Caddy say’s things like “I wish Africa was dead!...I hate it and detest it. It’s a beast!”(44). She is sick and her mother is the cause. Mrs. Jellyby is toxic and Jaryndyce wants Esther to understand that. Dickens needs his readers to understand the irony presented in Mrs. Jellyby and the state of her affairs at home in comparison to her vision of Africa.

In between Franklin Blake’s two contributions to The Moonstone we find the truth to what happened in the house the night of Rachel’s eighteenth birthday; a mystery “Extracted from the Journals of Ezra Jennings”, a lonely, half-breed, British-Indian, drug addict, who uses science to reveal the secret. Ezra Jennings presents Mr. Blake with a solution to his dilemma in assuming,

That the influence of the opium - after impelling [Franklin] to possess [himself] of the Diamond, with the purpose of securing its safety – might also impel [him], acting under the same influence and the same motive, to hide it somewhere in [his] own room.(394)

The possible solution requires that several characters entrust a crazy looking, dark skinned, piebald, doctor and allow him to drug a gentlemen with a powerful and addictive sedative. Betteredge say’s “You have done a wonderful number of foolish things in the course of your life, Mr. Franklin; but this tops them all!”(398) The butler belongs to the old school. He can’t seem to move outside the realm of Robinson Crusoe, maintaining a certain kind of deportment that just doesn’t accept poor, old, dying, ethnic Jennings. No one outside of the two lovers encourages Ezra in his experiment. When Miss Verinder expresses how much he means to her Ezra finds great pleasure and remarks,

She looked at my ugly wrinkled face, with a bright gratitude so near to me in my experience of my fellow-creatures, that I was at a loss how to answer her. Nothing had prepared me for her kindness and her beauty. The misery of many years has not hardened my heart, thank God.(415)

She makes him feel like a teenager again. Jennings participation in the world of Franklin Blake and Rachel Verinder justifies his existence. Ezra finds solace in the fact that his experiment brings the couple together. Motivated by Rachel’s letter, he writes,

Is it possible (I ask myself, in reading this delightful letter) that I, of all men in the world, am chosen to be the means of bringing these two young people together again? My own happiness has been trampled under foot; my own love has been torn from me. Shall I live to see a happiness of others, which is of my making – a love renewed, which is of my bringing back?(399)

Jennings brings forward a solution to the troubles of colonial nineteenth century England; he incorporates science, and introduces the exotic aspect in a way that the gentry can accept. Collins kills Ezra to leave the audience with his impression of the consequences of receiving the ideal solution to finding out what really happened to the Moonstone.

Conquering the world comes at a cost; Dickens and Collins understood the price of conquest and they felt it reflected upon their society negatively. Was the Moonstone worth murdering three monks and devastating a family for? Herncastle’s reasons for attaining it were wrong. So no, it wasn’t worth it. Mrs. Jellyby was an obnoxious old hypocrite that participated in the degradation of her own family. Yet Dickens attributes Caddy with a scenes entitlement that allows her to escape the grips of her mother. Collins allows Ezra to die, but he does it after the reuniting of the lovers. Both authors believe there are solutions to the problems created by their nations growth. We can see that they felt incorporating progressive beliefs, like science, drugs, secret engagements and multicultural acceptance, into their narratives they could help instigate a change to move forward away from the corruption.

Works Cited

Collins, Wilkie “The Moonstone“. London:Penguin, 1998, Print.

Dickens, Charles “Bleak House”. NewYork: Modern Library, 2002, Print.

Relevant link

Iron common!

2011-11-19T18:16:00.000-08:00

"I know. You're the shit! this world is full of assholes but man you are the shit" he laughed out loud, "I've got a women next to me that can really change the way I feel though." She looked up at him and made him blush in front of his parents. It was a meekly feeling.

hurt right under his heart

2011-11-17T23:23:00.000-08:00

I live in a country that is so right we don't even know what it looks like to be wrong. "Did you find that lost one?" the questions are so out of line. " I wish I knew where I was going to go when I finish this test." My voice always broke when I talked, it was like I was alone, but I was in a car, I had the radio on! "I tried and it didn't work!" it happens to sound bad when it looks the way it did when it happened. "I didn't want to say anything. "I just wanted everyone to hear me." but no one listens. She does. "Yeah!" a moment went on before he repeated. "Yeah." This conversation is being held by you, with yourself. "Hey, I'm his super ego." The same pause, eyes rolling, "You're my id!" He was thinking bout her, "she is too young for you." He was right she was, "so? It's not like I'm better, I've been breaking my own heart over and over again. I'm an idiot." He thought about it. "And not even with the ones I choose to love but with the way I run my life, I don't want to be anywhere on time. "I think! And that's my problem." Time is of my essences and it's my time, not theirs." The thought of one of his professors came into his head, "she's too old!" he didn't even bother to mention that she's married to herself. There is so much work to do. He was burdened, and the stress caused pain. "Yeah one other thing!" It's cause you to need help. You use help but you don't want that. You think you can do it alone, "but I'm actually standing on ......" he didn't want to say it out loud.
"I can only write when I'm kinda hungry!" his stomach growled, he though about God. "What do you want to ask?" The sound of his imagination hurt right under his heart. "Nothing really!" he said after thinking about what he wanted to know. "I can see the future!"

Eatmygarden!

2011-11-17T02:05:00.001-08:00

he lost his wallet!

2011-11-17T01:02:00.000-08:00

"Give it back!" it came out as a yell, but he didn't mean it that way.
"Why you yelling at me?" her voice was weak, they were together for over a month, she always felt like he was kinda aggressive, but lately it was getting worse.
"I didn't mean it that way, I wanted you to hear me, I wanted it to just have meant something. I wanted you to understand that all I want is to share my dream. I want everyone to see things the way I ...." Her eyes were already watering, it wasn't what she wanted. He could see she was angry. "But why?" he asked vainly again raising his voice scaring her. "Don't!" he waited to see her flinch, he raised his hand. "Be so nervous." The two of them were together in the train.
She liked to look at his face as they moved forward through the tunnels. The ride was going well, they were lucky to be in an empty car, no one could here their conversation. She wanted him to be quite. But she knew that he was never going to be. "You're such a boy"
"What?" he thought he could see her face change, he knew she was happy with him, he knew she realized he wasn't going to leave her. They were going to ride this out.

pack pain

2011-11-16T00:38:00.000-08:00

"I'm pretty sure!" they were looking at one another. Her eye's were wide. She did not do drugs he thought. "You're right!" looking up at him, she was smiling.
"So you agree?" he was still standing looming over her. They were in the glass room. Everyone could see them, he felt vulnerable.
She could tell he was unsteady, "I do!" her voice was soft, "You do too!"
"Yeah!" they both had their heads down, everyone could hear them.
"You were listening today in class, weren't you?" she remember the lecture and the professor standing behind the podium.
"Everyone was listening today" he was looking strait into her eyes. "It was an interesting class." She looked away, "I almost was stupid enough to skip."
"You skip class?" the thought of it repelled her. "You know what she'll do don't you?" They both thought of her.
He remembered the way she answered. He smiled, "she's not that bad" he wasn't going to convince her, but he kept on talking. "She gets us all excited, even though she's so old!" He thought of his wife. "Not very many of us can honestly say that we have any passion."
"I can"
He thought of his mom, "I heard you today!" he backed off of her and pacing the room said "That was one of the first times I had ever heard you participate in the discussion!"
"You're right"
"So you think I speak fast?"

asshole! fucker

2011-11-11T00:14:00.000-08:00

I found myself in another world. It was a sweeter place then this. I could see us in a utopia, then I realized there were lots more people here, and every one felt the same way as me but for the wrong reason. They weakened everything. It was horrible being a part of all this world and not having anyone to see it with. Sure there were my lovers, and yes I brought them with me, but they all had their own agendas too. They wanted to survive, they all thought they wanted to succeed too. No one really was able to show me what to do, no one had even lived through have the shit I did. Like, o.k there is the soldiers, but they weren't kids; I've never killed anyone, but I'm positive parts of me have, my insides, have been hacked off. I think I might have been the one that cut them off.

I live in another world often, it's crude to realize that everyone I live with on the planet is nothing like me. They don't even know they are in heaven. Assholes, I got stuck in traffic and I was cut off by this hundred year old woman. What upset me so much was actually that the cow almost plowed into me with her seventy thousand dollar town car, and risking my life, I swerved out of her way with my eight hundred dollar Malibu. Life is so good though, cause as I was swerving out of her way, I was listening to my cheap stereo. I adore listening to music in my gas guzzling American car. I love that I like the same shit ass every one of the people I drive to work with..... I also fucking love getting stuck in traffic with all the rats.
I got these friends, well there is this girls, and she's dangerous, she's hot. We've never talked, I love her, and I'm sure she thinks I'm an asshole. Fuck her, her boyfriend is my best friends neighbor. They live right next to each other, and my buddy, watches them fuck, Asshole. I love em though. I have this girl friend who hates me, but we fuck like animals, then she tells me I'm worthless, even though she's old and fat. I love her cause she's rich though.
I live in the perfect time you know, the world has everything it needs to really put humanity on the map, I think we're gonna use all our technological progress to shove some dynamite up our kids ass's and watch our future bloom, like a firework. My parents, well and most forty year olds fall into the now deficient category. They helped maintain the world so well, they taught their kids to suck anything for enough money. The industrial revolution was a gift that lets us build the internet, the internet was designed to fly the earth up into Gods......

shit is dark starter in the back cucumber!

2011-11-06T23:10:00.000-08:00

It was three oclock, Daylight savings time was kicking in. The leaves had taken their time this year, to fall, the season died gently. It was a radiant autumn, but winter was coming, and we were a few days now into november. It was getting colder and the days were looking like they do right before the day you wake up to see the landscape in front of your house covered in snow. It's always such a shock that first morning. I remember the morning, waking up as a child, in the brisk carpeted space, and running to my mother bed room. My dad was almost always asleep, it made me laugh. I could see the snow the instant I entered their room, it was filled with windows, falling, swirling and smiling at me. It was only so magical the first day. The coldness and the necessity to bundle up bothered me.
Inspector gadget was on along side the careBears... I remember making myself instant porridge, I never liked eating before dawn. This is so fragmented. There is a beginning, it was in the apartment on a hundredth and fifth street and one-o-seven ave. It was different in the past, driving by it now you'd find yourself in a broken community, I guess it was back then too, except back then it wasn't as busted. There was a water park outside, there were slides, I remember my brother telling me "the kids shit on the slide." I was too scared to go look and see, I was only three, so I just hung on to my older counterpart.
I was remembering the times when I was off to Europe to free myself of the western tyranny. This was in the mid nineties, I was an early teen. I had just smoked pot, and started thinking about sex. It was october 12 or something when we left Canada. Fuck, who the fuck does that. Immigrants, ballsy. I remember owning a portable CD player, I was the only one in, what felt like to me, half the country who could play CD's. It was a shady day there when we landed, Polish gray, it was still green though, different then Canada. I was listening to NIN, Trent was opening my mind up past Cobain's guitar hero suicide antics. Guitars were going to be substitutes and things were going to change. The kids there liked me.

We watched thriller!!!!!!!!!!!!!BOOOO

2011-11-01T00:08:00.000-07:00

Actually it's role reversal
-That's what they all said. They were in charge, I had been in the medallion for over seventeen months. Why was I arguing with someone who didn't understand.
Facebook is a new tool in the market place.
-Things like facebook had been paving the internet super high way for a few years now making headway.... but only directing us right back into the abyss. Greed's been prevalent! It's gonna take a couple decades of collapse before... the civilization that's left will have to realize that working for the common good is the best way to work for yourself.
-I really want to make money this year, Dad. I really think that Mrs. Julieper has the right idea. She thinks we should start an advertising agency to help people get more clients.
I wasn't shocked, I wanted to be angry, but only because I see it in almost everyone. Not everyone realizes how privileged they are, my son included. His mother has her fare share of influence. That's fare too.
-Dad? Why is you're new girl friend so fat?
He was honest, he gets it from his grandmother, she's been helping me raise him. I don't question the fact that he is willing to be so open. I Laugh.
-Don't laugh! It's bad. The kids at school talk about it. I don't know what I should do.
His mother would have a field day with this, I don't care. It's like not having a T.V never hurt him, it gave him time to read.
-o.k she's not that fat. Dad mom has a new guy, another new guy.
So. We have to maintain ourselves, forget to tell him, I've made mistakes too. We all have. Some of us just don't want to man up to them.
-I also really like my new teacher and I have a pretty new neighbor, she's brown.
You know, if I actually understood how old this kid was ten years ago, we'd have sailed the see! Fucking thug. He's a sun to in immigrant farmer.
-The sound of our voices makes me sick dad
it was fall and the night s were so hot that the sky smoldered, I was agitated. She is fat, and the sky is so currupted with malice, machines don't care much for change, They just need oil, I work in factory of doors to heaven. The owner
-owner !!! was a drunk !!!!

Fool

2011-10-30T20:35:00.000-07:00

Good nature is stupid. Nature is mean, don't let her fool you. Being merry is another story altogether. We all grew up in the forest, it was beautiful. Our adolescence was where they began to take hold of our innocents. They were very influential. We knew they outnumbered us so we just gave in!!!

2011-10-22T12:30:00.001-07:00

All Good Artists Seem the Same

Through the narrative technics of Jane Austen and Charlotte Bronte, we are introduced to Jane and Emma, two nineteenth century God-fearing girls, maturing into ambitious, knowledgeable and productive women of the future. By thrusting strong hearted, risk taking, fierce female characters into the position of the protagonist in their novels, both authors helped push together the lines of inequality between men, women, the rich and the poor. Their intent to develop and reinforce the audience’s sense of class and distinction strengthened their relevance in the world of arts and education then and now. Embarking on a mission to inform their 19^th century patronage of their well read, educated, and informed ideas allowed future contributors to flourish, in turn opening and inspiring minds of generations of readers to come. While Austen uses courtship and Bronte turns to the imagination, both writers call upon their intended demographic to internalize their fiction and from it grow.

Whether manufacturing herself useful towards a Harriet, or advertising in the “shire Herald” the heroin of the twentieth century novel in surging with a longing to overcome boredom. Emma lives to play matchmaker, a position that gives the author room to develop a series of interpersonal connections that expand our landscape of her world. Jane Eyre decides to reach out beyond her horizon and risks everything to unravel the mysteries of life inside the mind of Charlotte Bronte. Emma never ceases to amaze with opinions on social etiquette and class, “Dear Harriet, I give myself joy of this. It would have grieved me to lose your acquaintance, which must have been the consequence of your marrying Mr. Martin.” (52.Austen) Her deluded sense of entitlement is seen here doing a good job notifying readers of that naiveté; spoiled little girls try to enrich themselves through a vanity, that can be defined, conceived in much the same manner throughout time. Miss. Eyre isn’t found in the same aristocratic position as Austen’s hero. Bronte cleverly attributes the growth of her character to her thinking process, which she makes clear in the narrative.

I desired liberty: for liberty I gasped; for liberty I uttered a prayer; it seemed scattered on the wind then faintly blowing. I abandoned it and framed a humbler supplication. For change, stimulus. That petition, too, seemed swept off into vague space. ‘Then,’ I cried, half desperate, ‘grant me at, least a new servitude!’ (102Brontee)

Both characters are young and energetic, alive with the passions of life, a mix of characteristics that are bound to alleviate boredom and expose them to the real world, the one without boarders.

Influenced by a hierarchical environment both authors were forced to introduce ways in which their protagonist were to actualize themselves in a respectable manner. Austen’s Emma comes from money, she’s had everything she’s ever wanted handed to her on a silver platter, leaving her vulnerable to become full of herself. Fortunately for women of her day there were Mrs. Elton’s. Emma considers manners above other things,

’Insufferable woman!” … “Worse then I had supposed. Absolutely insufferable! Knightly!—I could not have believed it. Knightley!—never seen him in her life before, and call him knightley!—and discover that he is a gentlemen.(259Austen)

Mr. Elton’s wife paints us a beautiful picture of what it means to have money without class. Emma is inherently aware of how to behave and she is being scrutinized as closely as Mrs. Elton. Austen entrust the reader to realize that what makes a character great is their ability to integrate all the good virtues of humanity without manifesting any degradation to those around them. Jane Eyre is a governess materially owning next to nothing. Using her wit alone she hooks the heart of the Master of Thornfield. Yet Miss. Eyre chooses to peruse a relationship with Rochester even after she hears

’And Miss Eyre, so much was I flattered by this preference of the Gallic sylph for her British gnome, that I installed her in an hotel; and gave her a complete establishment of servants, a carriage cashmeres, diamonds, dentelles, etc. In short, I began the process of ruining myself in the received style, like any other spoony. (165Bronte)

Jane’s keen sense of her own individuality allows her to look past her boss’s predispositions to do evil, and still relate to the Noble man he is inside. Acting above the status quo is the matter in which the female protagonists raise themselves above the pre-conceived notions of their society. Allowing the reader glimpses of a bird’s eye view of the true character of the hero.

A portrait of truth that accurately defines the nineteenth century world can be directly associated within the narrative landscape of Jane Eyre and the vocalized opinions of Emma. Austen is as relevant today as she was a hundred years ago because she was very capable of depicting the irony between reality and the way we think we know it. Austen cunningly allows us into the mind of Emma.

Mr. Knightley and Harriet!- It was an odd tete-a-tete; but she was glad to see it.—There had been a time when he would have scorned her as a companion, and turned from her with little ceremony. Now they seemed in pleasant conversation. There had been a time also when Emma would have been sorry to see Harriet in a spot so favorable for the Abbey-Mill Farm; but now she feared it not. (338Austen)

Harriet is nowhere neared to a favorable spot at the Farm then Robert Martin, but in Emma’s mind they’re going to be married almost within weeks. Of course she ends up Mrs. Knightley, and Harriet Mrs. Martin. On the other hand Bronte remains so powerful to a modern audience because she insisted on exposing her nineteenth century readership to the will of Jane Eyre,

But, then, a voice within me averred that I could do it, and foretold that I should do it. I wrestled with my own resolution: I wanted to be weak that I might avoid the awful passage of further suffering I saw laid out for me; and Conscience, turned tyrant, held Passion by the throat, told her tauntingly, she had yet but dipped her dainty foot in the slough, and swore that with that arm of iron he would thrust her down to unsounded depths of agony. (343Bronte)

She leaves Thornfield that night! Here drastic leap of faith proves to pay off of course. It’s as inspiring now as it would have been a couple hundred years ago. A still found to be totally an uncommon act, to have faith in one’s inner voice, and it works. Both authors establish a firm foundation of how the human mind makes its way into salvation. Through trial and error Jane and Emma produce outcomes to their lives that we can still all relate to in the 21^st century.

Looking back at Jane Eyre, we get inspired to peruse our passions, and while scrutinizing the adolescent thought process of Emma we find that we are often no better at judging where we stand then a girl raised in the 19^th century British aristocracy. We all do it though, move forward in time, realizing the reasons things happen around us through experience. Female authors like Austen and Bronte defined class through individual’s, and their abilities to grow with distinction, and separate the truth from fiction. Their perseverance and drive to create content within their own individualized form separates them form the rest. Then they stood out pushing their context into modern classrooms. We are still learning about courtship and we still honor our imaginations without really understanding either. Jane Eyre and Emma allow us to experience their growth. Push us to understand our tendencies to make rash decisions, naturally, and hopefully in a way that makes us happy in the end.

Work Cited

Austen, Jane "Emma". London:Penguin Classics, 1996. Print.

Bronte, Charlotte “Jane Eyre”. London:Penuine Classics, 1996. Print.

Just to chill!

2011-10-09T23:25:00.000-07:00

I've been really hard done by, she broke me. I was fixed on seeing myself as her equal, but then we crashed. I had no idea she was in it to gain such big steps in life. We were working on this project together. I couldn't help but look at her feet. She was all over the place. We were a good match, at least I thought... at first.
"Where you going?" the questions started the moment we needed to leave. I was having high anxiety issues. People were starting to stare.
"Why don't we just stay here then honey?" He was never happy to see me act this way, especially in front of others."You know you can't stay here alone don't you?" He knew I was afraid to be alone, the sun was going down and the traffic lights were beginning to to hover over head with ambiance. "We're on the street." I looked around, helpless. He started to walk away.
"Where you going?" my voice echoing, the others clearing out, harassed by our shrill. The cool autumn air tightened our backs, he shivered. "Why can't we just stay here, it's not that cold yet." I didn't want to leave, mom and dad had been fighting again. He was cold. He wanted to watch T.V, we'd been watching it for a long time, I wanted things to change, he wanted them to stay the same. We had to leave. "I don't want to go!" He got on his bike and rode away. The sun was following him along the horizon, I was watching him gain momentum as his shadow fell forwarded. It made me laugh. Eventually I couldn't see him anymore.
Traffic kept up for the first little bit, the lights cooled me, their thought. I was waiting for someone to find me. "What are you doing here?" He asked me so quietly, he had a deep voice. He was wearing a thick coat. A white jacket.
"Waiting!" I surprised him. He jumped, he thought I was going to be scared but I figured my parents were right behind him. "How long you been here little one?" more questions I thought.
"I didn't want to go home! I've decided that I didn't want to watch anymore T.V like my brother." I remembered my brothers silhouette forcing it's self forward through the dusk. "He didn't want to go home, but he went back anyway" it came out as a laugh. He laughed too.
"They almost always go back when they don't want to." The wind picked up forcing his voice forward. I was sitting silently, watching the moon fancy herself finding herself on the incline. He watched me smile over the rising. The traffic made noise's. "I find the sound of the sirens soothing, like a calling out to me." An ambulance slowly blew in singing, the distance distorting it, it made us both laugh, we couldn't even see it hurling itself to some fate we couldn't fathom. "He's a goner!"
"You think?" My questing stunned him. He was alert, we were alone, I wasn't scarred of anything. He knew that, the creases over his brow bent sorrow over his eyes, the bright yellow leaves were the last flickers of highlight over shadowed by the night.
"The sun's gone! What we gonna do?" He was so soulful, young too.
"We're not here to play hopscotch!" I was right.
"How we gonna do this?" I could see he didn't know what we were suppose to do. His thick jacket was keeping him warm though, I was getting cold.
"Come closer!" The sense I got from it was welcoming but I hesitated, and he saw that.
"But you're cold!" we laughed, and I fell into his arms. The clouds sought significance form us. And my heart was still, we sat almost laying there until the morning fell. My brother came back with a bat.

He said she said!

2011-10-07T03:07:00.001-07:00

Christopher Sly, a nomadic, audacious and intentional fellow found in a stat of unconsciousness, lying almost dead in the ditch outside of Marian Hacket's Wincote Tavern, only to be foreseen by Shakespeare to be pronounced as a tool of intervention between the rivaling classes of his day and age. Sly being subject to a vanquished social rank is given an opportunity to take a second look at himself through the eyes of our thoughtful yet roguish author. Through the viewing of The Taming of the Shrew Christopher Sly is meant to come to find his higher calling, much like Katharina finds herself the unselfish obliging wife. The story line is created to questions ones position in society and life, to take risks, harness the indecision's set forth and to take hold of the reigns that give us access to that luster and to shine like the gentry. William Shakespeare settled in his ways of gentle persuasions leaves us wondering if it was all so unintentional.

Alone, a body lies carelessly thrown, lost and forgotten by the side of the Milcote road, only to be stumbled upon by the local aristocracy and given the right to be played a joke on by the jovial Nobility. This jest in practice takes our unfortunate hero out of misfortune and places him directly in the heart of pure wealth. In giving the drunkard access to his Royal pleasures, his Honor, the Lord, must abandon the appearance of his social rank to help maintain the suspension of belief amongst his serfs. This unique vantage point lets the Lord maintain his position as an observer and jester. It also allows him close access to Sly, the Lord often enlisting himself to reflecting openly Sly’s true (false) calling. “Heaven cease this idle humor in Your Honor! Oh, that mighty man of such descent, of such possessions and so high esteem, Should be infused with so foul a spirit!” (Induction.2.13.18). Allowing Christopher such a sly perspective point to reflect upon the play also gives him the opportunity to whiteness himself through the eyes of a member of the gentry.

While watching The Taming of the Shrew the audience can’t help but realize they are watching a play within a play, adding a heightened point of view of the event as a whole. It starts with Sly, but it ends with Katharina sharing her gained insight into womanhood. Her shrewish behaviors and feelings of resentment have changed and she wants to convince the other women to “Unknit that threatening, unkind brow And dart not scornful glances,” (5.2.140.42) Observing this scene would be Sly himself and the audience beyond that would be observing Sly. Shakespeare framed the plot around an open-ended illusion, gently nudging the gentry to uphold their position as keepers of people, by indoctrinating Katharina as being the voice of Gentile reason. Upon her final speech Katharina communicates the theme of the whole Meta story

for thy maintenance commits his body

To painful labor both by sea and land,

To watch the night in storms, the day in cold,

Whilst thou liest warm at home, secure and safe;

And craves no other tribute at thy hands

But love, fair looks and true obedience—

Too little payment for so great a dept.

Such duty as the subject owes the prince, (5.2.152.59)

Katharina’s final speech encompasses the entirety of Shakespeare’s project, her voice being the evocation of the Lord’s though to playing the jest on the drunkard.

By creating “The Taming of the Shrew” in such an open-ended format the author crucifies anyone watching, from Sly to the actual audience. We the reader are subjected into believing that if Katharina can recreate her reality to cater to her true calling more appropriately, so can you, so can I, and in addition Shakespeare’s positioning of Sly in the beginning of the play is because he needs to use him as the antagonistic “good guy”. The author leaves himself vulnerable to his own devices as well, by making way to the possibilities that a bum can uphold himself in respect to the aristocratic tendencies. To protect himself from possible outbursts of outrage from the audience, Shakespeare leaves the inductions open to discussion. He couldn’t have Sly leave the theater a merry old honorable Lord. The Gentry and the Aristocrats would go mad, he couldn’t have the beggar go through such a dynamic change only to go back a bum, because the bourgeois and trades people would not leave the theater conscious in the manner the author intended. Shakespeare’s intent was to have the audience become a participant in the suspension of belief. Shakespeare wasn’t thinking about just anyone, but everyone. He wanted to infatuate his audience with the possibility of more, more for the homeless and weak, more for the rich and powerful. His plan was to afford the participants in the act of realizing the drama in their lives to overcome transparent obstacles and be the best they can be. This places each individual in a position where they must martyr themselves, much like Katharina does when she say’s “that seeming to be most which we indeed least are. Then veil your stomach, for it is no boot, And place your hands below your husband’s foot, in token of which duty, if he please, My hand is ready; may it do ease.” (5.2.179.83). Her unorthodox approach to her new husband shocks everyone into believing they’re little charade, making it real, as well as winning Petruchio the bet. Shakespeare bet on the fact that the aristocracy wouldn’t realize he was sacrificing the bed of the Honored Lord to cater to the commoners.

After reading through The Tamming of the Shrew we find the author an intentionally sly audacious fellow. Shakespeare risking his reputation by thrusting a “mounstrous beast”(Induction.1.33.) into the life of a noble man does the world as a whole, justice. By focusing on the peoples he finds within his own community the author remains authentic to his beliefs. These beliefs revolved around the opportunity for equality and the chance to change. Sly as he may be Shakespeare was always found to be honest enough in his work, to reflect his understanding accurately. He believed in equality, and he produced it within his dramatic fiction.

Works cited.

Shakespeare, William. The Taming of the Shrew. The Necessary Shakespeare third Edition. David Bevington. Chicago: 2009.

God Of phuauk!

2011-10-03T00:28:00.000-07:00

I had this idea that my dreams could come true. That I could bring my will into material existence. That I could have the vision of the world I hold in my mind come into my life on the outside, into existence in this reality. The first thing I did while in pursuit of my dreams was get a girl pregnant. That grounded me, told me that my dreams weren't going to be achieved without consequence. The consequences of fulfilling what my mind desired were important steps toward understanding what it was I myself desired to accomplish during my existence in my body.
At that point I understood that I wanted to be a good father, that understanding overcame my desire to worship the God of Sex Drugs and Rock and Roll. I started making choices that would ensure my dreams of being a good father came true. I did everything in my power to create an environment that would welcome my son into this world in a positive way. My dreams didn't have anything to do with the regular 9-5 job though. To have my environment running the way I wanted it to, I needed to make sure I felt good and positive about myself. I wanted my son to know that I was happy doing what I was doing. I didn't want my boy watching his father going out into the world doing dead end things he hated. So I went back to where I loved to be, I went back into the church of Sex Drugs and Sin and started pushing hack. I was amazed at how I felt right on track driving people who were under the influence of sin and sex, drugs and alcohol home. The success I felt after every night I came back to my family happy to have done a job I loved made me feel like a King. That feeling also made me want to share my success with others.
I was working full time, but it never felt like it. It felt like I was making money doing what I loved. Sharing and communicating my dreams with people who paid me. I needed more, I needed people to know how I felt, so I started to go online and write about my nights behind the wheel of an Edmonton taxi. The blog was such a success for me, in gratifying my minds existence. After I started writing it I no longer went to work for money, but to find content for my next great story. I published one every night for the next two years.
Going to work to write a blog that no one paid to see paid off. I learned how to make something from nothing, I learned that money is a by product of dreams, I learned that I was here to tell stories and live life to the fullest. Then the recession hit and I found that the circumstances around my success where forcing me to change, and I did. I needed to stay happy to be the best father I could be. So I went back to school. I also used my student loans to buy a camera, I took a material risk, it was like having the baby, it paid off. The consequences of choosing to follow your dreams, to claim that you can be whatever you want to be are rough, but they also ground you, and inform you that there is hope, and that it's hard. But if you think about it, if you know it's hard, then you'll know that those seemingly scary obstacles along the way are actually road signs that tell you where to turn next.
Now I'm going to school, I used my time at school to learn to take photographs. I did it by catering to the institution itself. I came to Concordia because I felt I could talk about subjects outside of this reality. I felt I could talk about my dreams and where they come from. This has been making me happy. Happy because with every decision I make to move toward my goals I bring them closer to materializing. I know that it's not necessarily ever going to be exactly what I envisioned but that's because those dreams keep getting bigger and better, and I know all I have to do is pursue my ideas and that's how I'll bring my dreams into light.

A rich man poor man, drunk man found.

2011-10-02T23:20:00.000-07:00

A rich nobleman found drunk, passed out, drooling in front of the bar, unwilling to pay his debt to his hostess! How does that even happen? It doesn't or dose it? Shakespeare's know to be a little sly and cunning in his undertaking of the truth; he knew that portraying it accurately may make him look like a rogue. Christopher, a bright young Master, or Lord, lying in a ditch disgracing his honor. How did Shakespeare address the issue of alcoholism amongst the aristocracy? Well we find that drunken character sitting watching the unfolding of a play within a play, a counterfeit copy, a replication and revision of the ideal illusion set to a permissible standard, set to help someone wake, re access themselves and rehabilitate.

AnD He LIStEnd

2011-09-27T23:09:00.000-07:00

I just have to sit down to make sense of it all. Everything seems to be changing, on my inside and my outside. Dealing with it won't be hard for me, I'm already thirteen. "What the fuck do they know anyway" my voice echoed in the canal. It was early morning, I didn't feel like going to school. I was in the old Jewish part of town. The buildings built up, tall blocks. Sure the tunnel was narrow, but I hated letting people see me skip school. Rafal was going to meet up with me. I had enough money for cigarettes and he was planning on sinking into a bag of glue. He was already fifteen years old. I knew we were going to do something I wasn't sure was good for me, but both our moms were away. So when he asked "Wanna come?" I smiled and told him Ill meet him in the tunnel.
My mom was in Africa and Rafals mom was in some small village in Poland. So were we actually. A space of two thousand people carried in a small Town kosherly placed along a sandy bend in a river that ran through the whole country. There was a church next to us on the map. Both of us had lousy fathers, and we were both lucky enough to be far from home and almost somewhere else. "What's up" his voice was weary, he wasn't used to crawling around the pipes like I was. He was bigger then me, he had long black hair. He always wore black, and it suited him. I gave him a smoke and using the matches I had taken from my grandmothers kitchen I lit his cigarette and then mine. We sat in the dark smoking. "There are rats in here" the sound of the length of the line of concrete pronounced itself to him. He'd never really had the guts to go this deep. It was funny to see him, it happened to me the first time I went in too.
"Look out!" the scream scared me. I was in there with David. He had brought me and my younger cousin along for the trip. We all had a box of matches each all to ourselves. The rat had ran by me. I could see it in the dark, it's shadow, I was frightened and I stepped on it. It was big enough to leave me feeling a murderer. David just kept us moving forward.
"Im not scared of rats now" my match withered out. I knew we were going to enter the area under the street, that's where we had decided was a good place to inhale the glue. We had two tubes of bottom line shoe glue. "I was only eight years old the first time I came through the tunnels." He didn't care. He grew up in Poland. He was rougher. "It rains a lot where I'm from" it's how he set the mood when we reached our destination. We were surrounded by the man wholes that led to the street. The tic tak of the Lada's and small Fiat tiers crunching into the cracks the ingrained themselves like snakes into the pavement.
It was funny to see the tube empty so fast, all the liquid, along with the vapors. I could almost taste it it was so heavy. "I can't do this" my voice wasn't even loud enough to be said to sound of a whisper. The clatter over head reminded me of the rain. I watched how Rafal drew his mouth over the bag and started to breath in the noxious fume. His eyes went out almost immediately. It was like he had been infatuated by an elegant women. Except it wasn't. I brought the bag to my face, listening to someone barder with the shop man running the Kiosk above us. I could see it snowing with in a matter of seconds I was in the clouds. It scared me and I threw the bag into the air. Coming from over some trees I found myself sitting in the sewer next to Rafal. He was still pulling in his nativity scene.
So I started to discus the Apocalypse

The Bank

2011-09-26T00:16:00.000-07:00

"So what?" he screamed, he knew that if there was one person in the whole school who did anything to advocate beauty it was him. "Delete the image right now!" she insisted. He held the telephone out to his friend, "is she serious?" Her voice could be heard across the hall, everyone in the lobby could hear her asking him to remove the picture. "How do you know I'm going to delete it!" he asked, his voice agitated with annoyance. "How would you know?" his voice trembled over the phone. He looked over the set of images he created that afternoon in the institution. It was a gorgeous set. Every one piece of the action seemed to blend into the rhythm of it all. "You want me to remove something?" he was finished talking to her. "O.k I'll delete the pictures" looking through the view finder of his camera he found the two unedited Raw files still on his memory card, "you sure you want me to delete the images?" Listening he could hear her sigh in relief. It was a picture of her unlocking ........

Just fucked ...hair! "in the morning!"

2011-09-22T00:19:00.000-07:00

"what does the guy usually end up doing after he's been fucked over"-the conversation was forcing us to get into an argument.-"Dwayne you gotta stop agonizing over this shit."- I'm always reluctant to give him advice. I wouldn't want to find myself in the way of that anger- "That mother fucker has been in my way for a long time now. I've been letting him stand between me and success for far too long." - I didn't think he'd ever realize that he had let his guard down a long time ago- "I wish I would have stood up to them before it came to this." -he was right it would have been easier on the two of us if he had just decided to man up twelve months ago.
It was eleven o clock and the beginning of the fall. The autumn leaves, and the warm tone of colors was vivid in my mind, I had my eyes closed when I heard him growl- "Right there baby" - he always talked to himself in my sleep. He used me as a punching bag, the alarm to wake me for work never came soon enough- " You getting up?"- he liked to insist that I understand that he gets up before me. I hate that about him- " What do you want to eat hun?"- everyday since before we were married. His words have become something I hate- "Coffee or tea?"- yeah I know what you're thinking, who could hate a loving caring husband? Except! Dwayne has got some serious issues. He's a lawyer, and not because he wants to be, it's because he thinks he's happy making a lot of money. We're not rich though, he's a shitty lawyer. I don't mind that he likes to pull my hair in the morning-

2011-09-20T23:53:00.000-07:00

What is it I'm going to eat? he asked himself as he stood, with his heavy weight over the computer. He was anticipating another anchor. He wanted to sit back down, work was the only way he could keep himself away. His face was flush with anxiety, an overwhelming urge to feast on it. "No!" renouncing his own will. The basket was on the table. The bottles were encased in the box below the sink. I don't need this anymore. He looked at his hands, they were red. "I'm!"....dead fucking sober and talking to myself. There was a light on in the kitchen, he hadn't noticed. It was early when he started to work, through the day he hadn't noticed the light was left on. "I didn't move." He just sat there, fat, "Not lazy" sure. He was used to reading all day. "I don't move!"

Dear Mom,

2011-09-18T23:36:00.000-07:00

Holy Moly has this ever been anexciting semester I'm learning so much, really it feels like I'm actuallyfinally getting a liberal arts education. Holy Jesus Mom I love it here. So,three years ago, when I was seeing that older women? You know the one thatsmashed my camera at the beginning of last years Fall term, well I can rememberthere was this time we were together at a fancy hotel, she was quit the sugarmama, as you probably remember since it was you who told me that I almost soldevery ounce of my soul just by staying with her. (Not necessarily entirelytrue) Well this was a year before she smashed the Camera and lied to the cops;we were at this hotel eating a fancy dinner on the patio. Well anyway the wordConcordia came up in our conversation. The institution was somehow also broughtup around the young waiter, who just happened to be a Philosophy major and atthat point an Alumni of the School I'm now attending and looking forward tograduating from, Concordia! He was an immense conversationalist, he knew bylooking at my partner and I that we'd be interested in what he had to say. Hetold me one thing, he said "if there is one Professor you should introduceyourself to when you go to Concordia, it's Beach." Straight up! That'swhat he said Mom, he also told me his name and told me to mention him. But Mom,I forgot his name. That's why I'm writing you this letter. I feel that you, andyou alone can help me understand why I should have forgotten such an elegantservers name. Mom he's the reason I'm taking Beach's class about the Love ofWisdom. I feel so alone not knowing that name!!!!

Love

Your Son

The PoacherDear

Ima a disease

2011-09-15T23:03:00.000-07:00

He's a startling sized boy, just a wee little lad, thick in the knees. He's got a seriously powerful limp. He likes the way it makes him feel, the way the others in the community make him feel. For a person of such stature he sure does make his presents known.
"I'm working" she say's to herself waddling past him, "Roger?" her voice scared him. His relationship with or was it to her was becoming more and more obscure. He was expecting her to whisper something sweet in his ear. "ROGER!" this time her voice was magnified, he pitied her for being so naive. I told you where to look, he thought sitting inside the garden. Getting ready for lunch is he? Not without me she though sitting herself next to his cane.
You're not really welcome here today, I'm dining out for a reason. She doesn't know that though. It sounds much more pleasant then it is. I'm going to see the doctor. It's to prevent myself from having this reoccurring dream. She doesn't understand, "you don't think that you're going to be sitting here with me the whole time do you? She didn't move and it scared him, "I'm hungry and it's lunch time." This bothered him. I'm not going to be able to present her with the facts, she is just too young to understand. What do you mean? I'm burdened with a hollowness to proceed into chartered territories. Roger I'm hungry her eyes screamed, she was stuck staring at him, indulgent, young. "You want me to feed it to ya?" I need to ask, that she needed to tell me what it was I need to give her. I don't know. I've been accustoming myself to look for a richness in rank. It stinks and it's not young. It's for me to seduce, to introduce myself as a ghost, a revival with a limp....with something else they like.
"How long are you gonna wait here, in this orchard" she asked. I didn't want to tell her that this is it. That the orchard was our spaceship. And I sold most of it to a man who's wife I'm bagging. "I'm not waiting."
"oh!"
we both had apple s for lunch!

Who is One of them?

2011-09-02T00:07:00.000-07:00

"I don't trust them" sitting, edging along her seat. She was off on a tangent, her father was listening.
"Why would you say that in front of me?" he asked, honestly inquiring on her comment.
"You're one of them" turning rudely she answered. Her sixteen year old body was changing. She was growing into a full fledged women, he couldn't stop it. It was hard for him to watch his daughter grow up in such an insecure world.
"What did he do to you this time?" leaning back on the kitchen counter he spoke in his masculine way. They stared at each other for a minute, she watched him begin to clean his glasses.
"Those glasses are so old dad!" she was still swallowing her cereal, the words fumbled clumsily, he could see she was still tiered.
"What time did you get home?" replied a voice from behind her father who stood over six feet tall still leaning against the marble top. His head came spinning to see her.
"Baby did we wake you?" he asked, his voice sounding warmer, more nurturing.
"No!" stepping into the kitchen from the hallway caused her voice to come through with a boom. "I was woken up earlier this morning by some noises in the backyard." She looked over at Stacy, both their eyes met. Neither of them wanted to make the contact so they both turned startled to have accidentally made such a close connection with someone so distant.
"Stacey what time did you come home last night" turning to embrace his wife Stacy found his voice distant. She knew that she had got his attention with her tone, not the question. He loved her and she was only six years older then her. Her fathers wife was two years younger then her older brother. The though of their relationship only made her hate him more.
"I was out with J.R last night Dad." Her voice irritated him. He knew she knew that he didn't approve of J.R. The three of them were all beginning to feel the tension. He didn't care, but Stacey felt she deserved more attention.
"J.R's a big jackass Stacey and you know it, I told you he is." admiring the reflection of the light in her diamond wedding ring, it was a distraction to her as she spoke. Stacey knew neither of them was going to pay attention to her problem. They didn't know J.R like she did.
"Girls lets settle this in an acceptable manner!" spreading open his arms trying to welcome both of them. Stacey hurled herself back.
"Take Rebeca dad! I've had enough, you're just like all the rest of them!"

"I'd pretend you're not dead"

2011-08-29T23:39:00.000-07:00

She was sad sounding, her English was excellent. It was just the start of the afternoon and he was up listening to the CBC. He could feel the violation in her tone, he could see the color of her skin. He was attracted to the passion he could hear in her voice. It was exactly what the CBC loved to dish out to mellow-dramatic Canadians.
"Hey dad are you listening to this?" he asked, calling out from the kitchen into the living room.
"George just settle down in there I've had a terrible morning, I'll be in right after I take this call." he explained. George just sat at the table and began to listen to the women and her plight.
"I was only nineteen when I first saw someone die in front of me." He actually heard her voice through the radio it was crystal clear, she spoke with conviction, someone stroked into horror through war. "I was only nineteen, but the little girl next to me was only ten, and she watched her mother die in my arms." The woman's voice told the story of the orphaned girl then the story of herself. "I thought I could save the world when I pushed myself into medical school. I was so young and ambitious, I was ready to take on the inappropriate predicament my nation was forcing itself to face!" George sat and listened to the woman repeat her justification to peruse the freedom of her nation. "When the government fell, I couldn't believe it!" she almost cried out. He could see her in the far off of that eastern state. The moment of silence was fired through the radio with an exaltation of energy, "my people" she stopped, ready to scream, "my people" she repeated again, this time solemnly "began to fight."
"Dad" George yelled through the hallway this time, directing his voice into his fathers office. The door then opened and George could hear his father moving toward the kitchen. The two of them had been acting hostile toward one another all week.
"What is it George?" asked his father as he headed toward the refrigerator. George turned up the radio and the two began to listen together. The woman's voice came through and the two leaned in to hear it. "My family" she said, calmly, "were ripped apart by civil war. My father was murdered by on of my cousins for believing there can be peace!" She spoke with an enduring faith. George looked at his dad, the two smiled and listened on. "My mother was taken from me to watch her husband die" there was a pause, dead air.
"Hey George!" rang his father, startling the boy over the silence. "What's going on? Why you listening to this?" He asked looking over at his teenage boy with sincere seeming sight. The two just stared at each other. When the woman's voice returned they both instantly relaxed as she began to explain how the westerners had underestimated the level of corruption in the system. "There is nothing I can do about what happened to my family, there is no one I can blame anymore." The reporter stepped in, his voice, the voice of the typical CBC reporter so bravely and politely stepped in and asked "Why are you still here, why haven't you run, you're a doctor, why would you stay in such trauma, and so intently practice medicine?" The question was designed to hit a mark. The two sat together listening to the radio. They were watching a bunch of children play in the park in the valley behind their home. It was a marvelous view, and even George, at fifteen understood that he was going through life in paradise.
"We're not there are we Georgy?" asked his dad. The boy looked up at his father listening to the radio. The sun entering through the panorama of kitchen windows was beginning to let in the afternoon sun, making the air feel a little stuffy. "Right George?" his father insisted. He was drilling the boy for the answer.
"But dad!" the boy exclaimed. "Now look, listen, theses people need help" he said standing up, pushing his chair back.
"You're so passionate son!" the old man said as he pushed himself up and toward the counter. There was a bowl full of fruit. Georges father picked a ripe mango and smelt it. His face lit up the moment the aroma hit his senses, George just watched. His stomach groaned, loud enough for the two of them to hear it.
"Dad it's not ever going to be right!" he said. The girls voice could still be heard in the background on the radio. "I decided to stay in Baghdad to protect my people. And its made me very hard inside. I see so much death, and I can't do anything about it. There is nothing I can do." George got up to grab a banana and while he was up he watched his father cut a mango into chucks and wedges.
"You're mother loved mango's!" his father explained, George looked out the window again and began to think about his mother. "She was taken from us way too early son." George just laughed, it had been a long time since the sun made the kitchen look the way it did in that instant.
"It looks like it did when mom used to make a snack in the afternoons, when I was little. We would sit at the kitchen counter and talk fruit" he reminisced laughing.
"I remember her dad" the boy said, gleaming a blush spot of red over his cheek at the faint memory of his long lost mother, "I remember she used to tell me how generous I have to be." He stopped and looked at his father, he watched as the man spread butter over his freshly toasted bagel. "Jesus dad you use a lot of butter, Fuck! it's gonna give you a heart attack. The man just laughed and spread it even thicker.
"Hey George!" demanded his father, he was looking at the boy, watching him listen to the CBC, "What do you think you'd do if I died?" His father asked. It was his typical line of questioning, he often wanted to see how George felt about inheriting his future.
"Dad!" the boy smirked, "you're not going to die" he said the words in a single breath. He was sitting at the table holding his face in his hands.
"When I was sixteen, George, my father died, he left us with nothing." The man said, readying George up to take on this next lecture. "So what would you do?" he asked. George still listening to the girl talk. "Here, if someone needs a CT scan past three o-clock in the afternoon, they are forced to wait until the next day." George could hear the way she felt about her circumstance, he could hear through the radio that the girl was fighting a hopeless fight.
"You can hear that can't you son?" asked his father. "Do you know what that is?" he demanded, in anger almost, it set George on edge.
"Desperation!" he yelled back at his father standing up and shouting it right into his face. "That's fucking desperation, in a place filled with no hope dad...!" the screams tore the tension. Georges father smiled and relaxed as he watched his son do the same.
"So, son, what would you do if I died?" asked his father exhaling a romantic tone.
"Dad, you're a plastic surgeon" he stopped and then said,

she handed him the medium blend outta nowhere!

2011-08-24T01:43:00.000-07:00

Reaching back, stretching his hand back behind him, he twinkled his fingers, it was a beacon.
"Hey buddy!"she called from behind him. He looked back to see her reach out for his receding hand.
"What's up baby?" he called out. It was raining and the streets were filled with rush hour traffic. Her face was wet from the rain.
"Let's go inside, I got enough money to get us a coffee." she said, setting them both off gearing toward the revolving door that lead into the book store/Cafe.
"I want a large medium blend" he said as they gathered in front of the cafe till.
"You're sure in a hurry!" remarked the sassy looking server. "Listen Mr." she stated, with her blond hair bopping and her delicate pale tattooed skin blushing. "Let the lady order first!" she said with a smitten smile and a stare directed into her, his girls eyes.
"Ha..Ha..really, Jimmy did you hear what she said?" she asked looking directly back into the eyes of the passionate, and naturally melodic barista. Their hearts were joined in an independent giggle. A laugh that was given to each one appropriately by the acceptance of the others gaze.
"Erin!" he snapped looking over the two, their connection was obvious. It made him angry out loud. Yet they were both still looking at each other.
"My name is Julia!" announced the barist reaching out her hand not at her but to him.
"What?" he questioned confused. Julia just looked over to Erin and winked.
"Common Jimmy!" she said confidently with a smile to die for and an arm full of dragons, stars and darts. He found himself stunned, reaching blindly out to her. He couldn't resist, and just as he was about to shake her hand

Right Here@...../Fcuk you! Good Bye!

2011-08-23T11:36:00.000-07:00

So I made a mistake, I was mad. I didn't want to deal with it the way you told me too. I was calling out to the inside of me. To the roots, baby, to the roots. I've been told to enjoy the song, you know, I'm sick of listening to what they tell me. Dude, I'll never do that. Don't tell me to do that, don't wast my time.
It was a portrait of myself in the mirror, speaking to all the people that I had ever known. I'm giving up on my insides because, the number one reason is that "I don't know anyone that's happy, not one mother fucker. No One. Nowhere."
I know the whole world wants to save me but I know that they are just wasting time.... my time. I'm involved in life like it's the type of sport you play like a war, a battle of the wits, and the greatest show ever seen, or heard. I've been mad, I've been shut down and put down, I've been the biggest player on the smallest field, but not before I was hit by my strongest teammate on the oppositions side. I'm all there for sure, global. Fucking piece of shit planet, I'm not stationary, I revolve around evolving, circling what I respect, fighting the fatigue they all impose on my existence.

You seen anyone with lights cameras and action in hell?...not yet. Cause you ain't been there baby you ain't going nowhere, cause you're almost all staying

she is only nineteen! what happens when she can't sleep?

2011-08-22T23:31:00.000-07:00

He gave me an apple, and in handing me that apple he made me feel like I was to get my revenge. Because the night before last I was out with my girl. It was just me and her. She was so pretty in the moonlight, she wanted to talk. She was drunk. We went together through the streets, embarking in one another. It was like one of those moments, when you see a couple crossing a bridge as the sun's setting over the river, over the city, the season, our country.
"What made you come out Lindsy ?" I asked her, she was obviously in the mood to speak her peace.
"I couldn't sleep" she said, her breath let off the fresh smell of spirits. "I haven't been able to sleep a full night this week" she explained. Her face told the story of a young women in lust. She was mysterious in the night he thought.
"What you stressing about baby?" he asked, thinking it was about school or her family. Her father was suffering form cancer. "Is it your dad?" he inquires lovingly. She just looked at him solemnly.
"I've got some stuff on my mind!" she answered rather softly. "Stuff I can't seem to get out of my head!" she said, soundly yet with a strange air of frustration.
"It's was funny to hear that" he thought to himself. "You're not yourself tonight baby, what's going on?" he demanded. The two were in a residential area. The hot evening air was deciding to chill up and soften the grass with dew. She could feel the faint falling of frigidity on her ankles. He could too. They two were heading for the train tracks. "I think I know what you got to say baby." he told her apprehensively fearing that if she was going to open up his remark was going to scare her confession away. "I think you're going to tell me about what you've been doing every night over the past week!" She laughed, one of the reasons she had to behave the way she did was because of his all-knowingness, his superiority complex.
"You're such an arrogant son of a bitch Rick, do you know that?' she yelled, pushing him into the slight slope that leads toward the heavy planks of wood that make up the small pieces perfectly aligned to create the authentic feel of a railway and a real historic site.
"So?"he stood and asked curiously. They were both standing on defense. From the distance another couple could be seen watching the two.
"Fuck You" Lindsy yelled furiously. She had taken William along that same path not three days ago. She was with him the same way she was with me next to that very same apple tree....

Ha did that make any sense? cause Im all jet lagged

2011-08-22T13:26:00.000-07:00

How long do you think you can live like this before life drops you back down to the roots? I floated high above the earth and wondered. My soul was in a cloud, it was obviously just a dream, a day dream I had the other night. As I stood and watched the sun set and a lightning storm role in. I could feel myself coming back from a journey or something. It was funny what I remembered.

"Jefferey?" yelled his mother.
"What mom?" answered the boy, intolerant.
"did you clean the bathroom like I told you?" she asked in a seemingly rational tone.
"No....But I will" he said as he stood up to see all the children playing street ball outside. The sun was setting and he was being forced to stay inside. "Schools starting next week!" he said mocking his mother.
"You better!" her voice came echoing from downstairs.

It was the last week of summer and he had to re-acquaint himself with the life style of the rich and educated. After a two months worth of that overseas Jet lag, he felt different then his neighborhood counter parts, yet, the bathroom was still his job. He was too tiered to clean the tub by the time he finished watching the sun fall into the horizon. All he could really do was settle down and smile about the fact that other kids in the crescent didn't even know that the world worked in so many more languages then the typical NHL fan could fathom. "It's sad though!" he said to himself quietly, speaking in a rather mature way, "I like watching hockey too!"

It was nine thirty by the time he was all cleaned up and ready for bed. His parents were down stairs. He could hear his mother yelling, softly into the the abyss that was his fathers face. They weren't meant to be together. Jeffery knew it. Watching his mother feel all at home back in Europe made him think. Maybe they weren't meant to be immigrants. Canada was such a different culture for the two of them. He jumped into bed thinking about what it would have been like to see his father back at home with his parents. All the thinking put a smile on his face. He missed his grandmothers tea. She had been feeding it to him every morning since the day he had landed there. He was back home now, under the covers laying awake thinking that if he had been born there and if he was going to be going to school there, he would be waking up there right now. The recollection of the sun falling over the horizon reminded him that he was here now, at home. Listening to his parents argue in their mother tongue, his first language, sister to her brothers tongue.

rhe "o" ni

2011-08-14T23:40:00.000-07:00

"The man in that picture is dead!" Alex said from the drivers seat. He was laying back, his eyes were closed and you could see the catheter running along the inside of his pants along his leg. Mitch was next to him upfront, he was half asleep. "Mitch!" Jeffery screamed, assuming Mitch was just joking. "He's jet lagged!" Alex said. He just got back from Central British Columbia. "We live in Edmonton" Jeffery muttered in through his teeth. Mitch didn't move. "Hey Fuck face you awake?" yelled Jeffery. Alex brought out a CD case his Gold credit card and a small bag of drugs. "You wanna Oxycontin" he asked. The shards of pill fragment reflected the light coming from the cars interior. Jeffery only stared. First at Mitch then at the crushed fragments of the prescription drug. "I'll take that as a no" Alex said, looking up at Jeffery with a deviant smile. "No Alex, fuck no thanks, I didn't know you snorted Oxyies." Alex just laughed. "No, I just want a.. a bag. Hey Mitch?" he yelled. Mitch just rolled away from the two. "Mitch, I only got twenty bucks." Jeffery threw the cash toward the front seat. Alex took the bill and twirled it into a tube. Jeffery could see that he had already aligned the drug in a neat row. He winced watching Alex bring the money to his nostrils and snort the powder.
Afterward the world seemed to stop in the car. Jefferey could only sit and wait till one of the two boys threw him his bag. He was hurting to take a hit too, it just wasn't that kind of hit. "I guess" he said out loud. "What?" Alex demanded form the drivers seat, Jeffery wondered when the last time Alex was able to pee by himself was. "Mitch" Jeffery said out loud. It was loud enough for Mitch to hear in his messed up state. "Mitch I only got twenty, but I'm good for the other ten, just toss me a sack." Alex laughed, his face was so you........ifdskmfksdfsdasfdsf

She needed to have it now! but how and why?

2011-08-09T00:25:00.000-07:00

She was left in the emergency room without really understanding what it meant. She was frightened that no one really cared to explain. It made her feel sad, the cab ride home made it even worse. The cabbie decided that the fastest way home was something that the fare could hold as a possibility and just a thought, or desire. She didn't feel well, that was a basic, she had been feeling this way since it happened.
"He didn't mean to" she thought to herself, the words spilling from her mouth without sound yet still fogging up the window of the taxi. Her forehead was beginning to press up against the glass. She was nauseous.
A few days later she found herself alone with her mother, "what did the doctor say?" she asked. Her wretched old voice haggard by the years of smoking. "Where?" she demanded. "Mom, they said I'll be fine, that I'll just need an exam." Her mother looked her over. There was more then just a bump there and they both knew it. "You haven't felt anything in over a week?" the mother asked, conscientiously. "Mom, I'll talk to you about it after the appointment!" she was worried about the outcome of the conversation. "Bill say's I'll be fine. And his best friend is an engineer and he's married to a nurse who say's this kinda thing happens all the time." she could tell after she said it that her mother didn't want to implicate herself, she watched as the old woman lit the third menthol cigarette since their conversation began.
Later that night she had a dream where she saw herself sleeping. She saw herself right laying there next to Bill. He's hardy, sleeping, he just got back from Texas when it happened. She had sent him out to pick up the propane tank for the BBQ. "You know I can't lift anything heavy right now baby?" she said. Of course he understood. He loved her, and she only wanted to make sure the steaks were going to have enough gas to broil them through to well done just the way he liked it. He left for the convenience store when it happened. It scared her then, and she did her best to forget about it up until the point she saw the face of the pediatrician.
"So we're looking for a heart beat?" the doctor asked with her eyes wide. She was crouched down listening, gently. There was nothing and they both knew what was next. "What did they tell you in the emergency room last week?" asked the doctor, more distantly then before. "They said that the baby had no heart beat." She knew it then, it was a fact.

glass or something.

2011-08-08T01:32:00.000-07:00

Lean back and let the ride take you to where you're gonna go. It was all he could hear in his head. The life guard just told him to "GO".
I was in line-he thought. The world was spinning around him. The sun was shining and all the people around him were happy to be riding the wave.
I'm scared- he thought to himself.
I'm not really sure how I'm going to stop myself!- he warned himself.
Things are happening so fast. He used his one free hand to feel his head.
Yes. He said out loud, relieved.
I have a helmet. He was wearing his black helmet.
The ride's dangerous enough. He was beginning to feel immensely gracious. He knew it was just a feeling.
I remember when Bobby Brodinsky told me about how he felt in control and that instant almost...he was thrown off.
Won't happen to me, Bobby's an idiot. He was starting to understand the mechanism behind the slide. He wasn't sure how, but he was aware that it was traveling down, and moving faster and faster as the session proceeded.
He thought back to what one of his teachers had told him.
It was something about putting everything it's spot neatly. Except that was his teacher's job. To make sure her class room was kept, tidy.
I remember that she just swept everything under the rug, it was because she really didn't care or understand. She could make sure every word anyone ever read of hers was spelled correctly but she couldn't understand that life was pursuit of happiness.
Not all of them were like that, he found himself thinking out loud again. The ride was far from over, he was going faster then ever.
There was that other one. He remembered. She was younger then him and she was persistent. She found him working one night and made it a point to get to know him outside the classroom. She was overwhelmingly spectacular. Innocence was withing his reach, she was looking to attract her first real pupil.
She was so much younger then me. He thought. The movement was beginning to throw him around. the helmet pleased his mind,
If I crack my skull on something it won't matter he thought. Then he remember the dirty rug in the class room. He remembered how it just looked clean. Made him realize that he's moving so fast that if he actually was to hit anything he'd end up shattering.

sour milk

2011-08-07T02:40:00.000-07:00

So many of us never come near achieving our goals. I wanted to do stuff in my life that I will never try. I still might be able to go to space...but I never wanted to go to space. I wanted to play a sport professionally. That won't happen, not because I don't have the body to get me there, but because I did not take care of myself well enough to be able to focus my mind in that way. I was all about a feeling that made me feel alive in life. I remember never caring about what my teacher said, never, since I was in the first grade. The world is full of teachers. I realize that the teachers that hurt my well being were the ones who weren't doing their jobs. I was fine, it was not me. How could a seven year old be responsible for the opinions of a full grow educator?
She was not ready to be a teacher. I'm pretty sure she wasn't ready for me. I am what I am because of where I'm from. That's funny cause I hate where I'm from most of the time. That's just the way it is. What is it I want to achieve? Well I want to get off the downward spiral of shilldom. I've realized that I can do what I want, because I have thing I don't really like, those are the things that I can rely on.

I am a mushroom

2011-08-05T17:02:00.000-07:00

blow dry me with cheese.
melt it good
I would like that!

She was shopping for school supplies and beer

2011-08-02T00:40:00.000-07:00

He would find himself sitting there, thinking about it, and it bothered him. He never even saw it coming, he didn't even feel it. It was funny that way, the way things just crept along, how everything moved forward, whether he liked it or not. He sat there, it was a hot summers day. Watching the kids was the best part, he could hear them playing. "The swing set was worth every penny" he thought, "and in the long run so was the backyard". The thought of her kept bothering him though.
"What if she knew?" he said out loud. The thought itself jerked him out of his relaxed position, he was sitting on the lawn chair, legs up, wife beater, shades. He held a cold beer in his hand. He was bald and happy sometimes. He liked his life when he could just sit, watching the kid was ok, but only as long as they were far enough away for him to be able to catch those extra zzzz's. The thought kept circling in his mind. The kids were playing in the back yard and the sun just kept beating down that radiant shine.
It was getting hot, the kids were complaining of being thirsty so he got up to give them a drink, it was thirty six degrees in the sun. They all sat in the house to drink some lemonade. "Daddy" the voice brought him back to reality. "What it is son?" he asked solemnly, red eyed half cut. He even laced his lemonade with a little Silent Sam. He did anything to turn off the thought of her. "Daddy?" the five year old repeated, again he was shoved back into the reality, fatherhood. "Daddy, do you know where mommy is?" asked the little boy, eyes wide, all three children were lined up together, each drinking back a glass of organic freshly squeezed lemon aid. He drank back what was left in his cup. His mind couldn't focus on anything except her. The kids went back outside. It was too hot for them out there, he wasn't worried about it though he was getting too drunk. He went back outside to sit in the sun. His glass of lemon aid was again filled to the brim with mostly vodka.
The kids were cooling themselves off with their water pistols. "Andrew" he yelled, the smallest of the three cam running up to him. "Yes'm dad" answered Andrew obediently, he was only four years old. His father laughed at him and said "Boy, get that older brother of yours." Andrew ran off curiously. All of them played while their father thought about her.

Sociopath!

2011-07-31T10:47:00.000-07:00

it's fun to be one of the only people in the world that can see right through them. They know what they said...Didn't want to be.... but I was right. I will always be better off. Drunks do well taking to dead people, you're not the first in my experience. (I can do it sober) Try not to kill anymore families because you don't like the way they support themselves. To bad you can't see that where you're from made you the way you are....

An Indian....

2011-07-29T00:44:00.000-07:00

"You guys gonna get married Cathy?" he asked sitting next to her at the kitchen table. "James why'd you think that?" replied Cathy bitterly. They both sat watching him outside. He was playing with her two children. "James! you know damn well I could never do that!" she looked up at her older brother, eyes wide. The sunshine in the dinning room was warn, the light came through in rays shaded and contrasted by the smoke of Cathy's smoldering Marlboro Menthol lights. She tapped the ashes off with rapid strokes of her middle finder. It made him laugh, she was all twitchy. "You actually love him" he said astonished. She looked down at the table.
"He's a good man, that's for sure" James said agreeing that their union would probably be a good one. "What does Jack say about all this?" he asked. "Jack!" Cathy shouted. "Fuck Jack!" she insisted, repeating the words in a frenzy. "Fuck Jack, Fuck Jack, Fuck Jack!". He just looked at her, and groaned "You're delusional!" he was right. Her marriage to Jack still existed. "Edward's only Twenty Three" she said, pulling a second king size smoke out of the package. "You got two kids Cathy" they both stopped and looked, "Nick's turning nine in two weeks" he smiled "two weeks, Cathy" he stopped, turned to look at the kids "you've been clean for almost ten years!" he looked back at her with loving open eyes "I'm so proud of you." Cathy just sat and smoked her menthol cigarette. The clouds of smoke could be seen thick curling around her. "I can't afford a divorce James" she said beginning to feel tiered. "Whatever, Cathy, do you actually love this guy?" he asked solemnly. "Yes" she answered sincerely. Her finger tapped the table nervously, "Jack's not gonna want them but he's gonna want something" her eyes darted around the room, through the smoke as she spoke. "Edie's only Twenty Three? really? Cathy!" he said smiling again. "God I'd love to find a lover almost half my age" he said. "God Cathy I'm almost forty eight years old!" the tone in his voice surrounded them both. "Dad was fifty two when he died" he stopped to chuckle "from a Fucking heart attack!" They both drew out a small laugh. "O.k so who cares that he's so much younger then you. And fuck the fact that your cheating on Jack, What's it like fucking

Utonia the largest body of water here on her home.

2011-07-25T22:57:00.000-07:00

Over the tide she could see him standing on the solid ground. The two were dreaming together, when he stood out on the peers late at night watching over the currents, waiting for the second arrival. The water was changing again, like it did those many years ago. The night the child was brought and given to him was the most horrifying day in Arron's life. He was only just an inkling out of the water. His father had decided to leave his mother behind. Their connection had been malfunctioning under the burden of the pollution caused by female reproductive behaviors. The electrolights were becoming inactive. There seemed to be a virus and it caused the boys to back out and breath.
Arron was a magnificent swimmer and above all in his colony he was a superior specimen. He could run, and he could run fast. It was visible immediately, the moment he left the water. She knew the day he stepped out into the Booplonian Sun in that open air that the only way his elders were going to allow him to see her was if she stepped out of the abyss. The island cities were built in honor of the Child, but it was Arron that held it all together.
The night Abuk was dropped into his presence was terrifyingly liberating in that it made him aware that there was reason for everything, and that he was chosen for a purpose.
"I was lucky the beast chose this planet and that he bestowed me with the burden" Arron spoke openly at the peak of the dock. His voice was heard by her deep in the bowls of the breath of her home. The reflection of the stars off the water made the universe seem so vivid, the way the liquid behaved, reflecting one endless space with the depths of their sea. Arron was destined to be separated from her. They both sat yearning for one another. She felt it in at the bottom of a bottomless Ocean.

Needs wr=ork Blogger Not sexy enough

2011-07-24T02:18:00.000-07:00

Over the past several centuries the Booplonians have developed a lot of telepathic abilities. There were times over the years before the child was delivered to them, that the people of the planet were in complete darkness. Those were the times that they evolved a way of communicating, to connect without a connection. Booplonians can reflect their own thoughts to one another, and it's because of this link that the planet once out of "Mercky times" collapsed culturally and reproductively. Individuals realized what they were talking too in their minds appeared to have non of the graces that their minds were lead to believe the other possessed physically.

"Horror"...repeated!

2011-07-23T02:48:00.000-07:00

As the boy grew, the masculine Booplonians began to adapt to cater to the being. The boy was dubbed King Abuk, and as he grew the world around him began to change. The Blooplonians were much smaller then their King Abuk, by twelve years old he began to tower over even the biggest aboriginal. Over time the planet and it's people had evolved into a civilization that supported and sustained Abuk, the alien ruler.
Abuk, bringing with him the inherent savage characteristics of any human child relished in his divinity. He demanded that his people adore him without measure. Once, after having fallen and scraping his knee raw, King Abuk demanded the names of the people who lived on the rock where he had fellen. The family of young land Blooplonians were reluctantly identified by the locals as the Rockefeller's. King Abuk sent the family of mostly miners to live next to the water to wait on the water fairing species of Booblonia.
The two kinds of Blooponians were never happy when they were forced to be in that close of proximity to one another. But since the King was such a young and naive leader he often enjoyed to torment, he caused the planet and its inhabitants much discomfort and ruled like an ignorant child. Both the land and water beings of Blooplonia instituted themselves to making the life of King Abuk the and all and be all of Booplonia, his life gave their life meaning.

The Orkd

2011-07-22T01:57:00.000-07:00

The story goes that there was this "coming" way, way back in the past, when the islands of Booplo were beginning to form, when the Booplonians lived in harmony with one another. Before the landing of man the Island planet of Blooplonia was a crack pot of never ending volcanic eruption. The morning the man was delivered to the surface was the initial moment the Blooplonian masculine types decided to separate from their significant feminine soul mates. From beneath the primordial oozz the female Blooplonians watched curiously through their indigenous surroundings, their masculine counterparts receive the male. A man, still in the form of a child was delivered in what looked like a red light, thunder, fire and sand storm.
Historic records throughout those moment in time are found to be inconclusive, the masculine figures still had not evolved the proper digits to sculpt media.

Pansies

2011-07-20T11:23:00.000-07:00

There are things that you just can't let go of. I'm incredibly motivated by others and the reaction I get form them, even those close to me. Often I find that individuals in our society base their worth on what they have not on who they are. "Are you who you want to be?"
Yeah I didn't think so. If you ever achieve what you want out of life you should kill yourself for having goals that a human can accomplish. Me I'm going to save Africa. Me I'm going to feed all the children of the world. You, you probably want to make sure you can get through traffic on time so your boss won't bitch at you for clocking in a minute too late. I am not a big fan of the bosses of today. They're all like "I have to make sure that society is mostly being squashed by my ideology and the negative reinforcement that I entrust all my upper level management to have been conditioned with to continue conditioning everyone under them into the ground." I don't know anyone that's making a living that is not in that situation in one way or another. You might not agree, but that's because you've been conditioned by others around you to believe that your lifestyle is correct, when you're a fucking monkey, and I don't know why. Well actually I do, it's because you've never push the boundaries of your reality, and that's because inherently, you, are worthless.

Moving to the stars!!!

2011-07-19T10:55:00.000-07:00

taxitalk: the video inspires ...... sadnessssssssssss, sometimes so does freedom. But I'm better off Dude dddddddd DUde going to planet Buplo and its magnificent islands instead!!!

MILF

2011-07-18T23:02:00.000-07:00

"So you wanna meet him?" she asked. "No" replied her daughter. "Stephenie why?" demanded the mother. "Because he might just be like the last forty mommy!"

"moi aussi"

2011-07-18T00:33:00.000-07:00

"Never anticlimactic is she?" he asked him, the two were sitting at a cafe in Paris. "Don't you wish there was a evolution in the relationship?" They could both smell the roasted chicken broiling in the BBQ two store fronts south of them. "What a false front!' one of the men announced. Most of the patrons on the porch turned to look the couple over, "don't you think?"
The waitress came in carrying their sandwich order."What is this?" one of the men asked violently. The woman was startled but she lowered the order to the table. "It's your lunch" she said smiling. He smiled back, "I wanted the roasted chicken!" he said enviously, she looked the two over, and laughing said

I don't want to be the male angler fish but I have been for a while

2011-07-15T01:46:00.000-07:00

All of us dive right in, all the good ones do. Once you're in love with life you live that one way, the right way for ever and always. You can't pull yourself out, we are all just kids swimming, all of us followed someone else in, all the good ones have been lured in and are luring in. There isn't that much good bait out there. It's like Love is Primordial ooze, once it evolves into intelligent logical life it tries to pull people back to being an Amiba. We're all left out alone in the ooze at one point or another and we have to learn to swim by ourselves. Alone. The key is to be honest with yourself, and with the people you love. The fact is when I met you I was that little one in the water too. I told you that I had someone dunking me, drowning me in that ooze, and from the beginning I begged you to understand that I was just learning to tread in that poopy, fishy water. I tried to keep you above the waves on my own lots. You have given me an understanding of patients baby. There were moment where we swam well together. But there was someone there right along side us, and I've been letting her keep me under, I wanted her to come back and pull me out so bad. I was just like you. I let her make me believe that she was really there for me. To keep me a float. But this year I had you keep me up lots, I tried to find ways to work with you to make me stronger too. I've also prevented you from surfacing and I've kept you under. Looking at it, she was down there waiting for me, and I kept myself watching looking you see. Try being unforgiving it's a good way to keep me close enough to wrap my hands around your ankles and pull down. I feel sick tonight, it was scary but I might have begun a behavior that stops me from acting inappropriately. I don't want you to lose yourself in this baby. Most of us are lost souls clinging to each other and most of us are blind in the water and it's a war to stay alive in the real world, don't let me drown you baby. You are a warrior, the answers are most often found when your learning to swim by yourself. I am not better at it then you, I'm still haven't brought my head even close to air. I've been letting myself get pulled under, and I should have known better, that's why I'm telling this to you. Kick away from me baby, I'm a sick thing leaching, bottom feeding along side my predators.

"My stomach's been growling all day!"

2011-07-14T02:36:00.000-07:00

He looked her over twice, it took him that second glance to soak in how beautiful she really was. "What are you looking at?" she asked. He always thought she looked so good. It was in her eyes. She had this sparkle that drew him in. It was an abyss and the day he witnessed her expression for the first time, it was the twinkle in that depth that blew his mind out into the universe. He could tell how much she wanted him. The desire was tremendous, and his will was willing and weak beyond resistance. "I'm looking at you baby." He answered her, she could hear his voice and she felt his eyes devouring her. It made her warm inside, blush filled her cheeks, she was glowing with an invigorating sizzle. She could feel the the heat from inside her rise and she could see that he could feel it too.
He could see her smouldering turning bright red she reminded him of a chilly. That made him smile. He lunged at her and she welcomed him between her thighs instantly, they cuddled close together. He was right to think she was so beautiful she thought.
"Why do you think I'm so gorgeous?" she asked in a calm voice, her arms crossed over his chest. He wasn't wearing a shirt and he could feel the chill of her hand. He knew she did not understand how he felt about their relationship. "I don't think you're gorgeous." he said, out loud, with conviction. It was awesome, her agony, the way he always found a way to hurt her when she was trying to let him in. "What?" she demanded. He just got up and said.

Innocents is never really lost it's always around the next corner...Not!

2011-07-12T23:47:00.000-07:00

It was huge and they all knew it. It was way bigger then anything they had ever done. It was his show, it was made with his turbulence and conviction. Up until now he never needed anything except for drive, but now he knew he needed help. It wasn't that he was getting any smaller, it was that everything he now had to compete with was too big and getting bigger. "What do I do?" he asked himself wisely. His wife, Adriana watched him scratching the back of his graying skull. "We are going to have to dye your hair later this month" she said pushing up to him, playing with the his hand and doing her best do relieve the stress. "You know, before the show, so you look your best."
He continued to sit stirring, thinking about where to reach out to for help. "I don't know who's on my side!" he moaned deliberately. His whining infuriated her. She knew where he needed to go, she knew what he needed to do.
"You know you missed his birthday!" she said sounding so sad. She did it to aggravate him, to mix with his emotions and he knew it. "Baby I do my best to make sure he gets what he needs" he started, it was the same old routine, the two of them fighting about whether they should continue chasing it. She turned down onto him, pulling her face so close to his he could feel her exhale herself all over him. He loved the way she smelt. She was so close he could taste her on his lips. "You know what comes first" she explained, he did and she knew it. There was nothing there to hid between the two of them. He loved her wretched stench as much as he hated the nausea her pricey designer perfume made him feel in the limo. They both understood that they had to change, or everything they had was doing to fall apart.
"I want to keep fighting" he disclosed proudly but at the same time with an implied shrug. "You missed his birthday!" she repeated. The words defeated him, he felt beaten and weak.

Dear Drugs on a 40 day drought.

2011-07-12T17:38:00.000-07:00

"It's been raining so long, I've been having a hard time sticking things out to the end, it's all the bugs too. This has been a rough, rough year!" he said in a panic. He could smell his own breath and the sounds of the sheets of rain reminded him and threw him into a faint state. "How can I explain to them that there is much here, and it's all empty." He sat alone speaking to himself in a void, cross legged in his mother s second floor apartment pent house suit. She was down south, working, he was high waiting for his afternoon class to start. It was midnight. He had been awake since he left for Montreal.
That was ten days ago. He left for spring break to visit his friends prescription.
"I can remember" he whispered to himself. Then remembering seemed to hollow his vision. Trying to remember only made his mind get sucked back into the void. All of a sudden he could see the Atlas on the wall turning. The image had began to take a form, and it had depth.
"I can remember" he said to himself. Sitting on the Persian rug his mother bought for him in Saudi Arabia. He could remember the ringing of the bell and the people. He remembered the moments he had dreamed, and he realized that non of it was separate.
"I'm an outcast. I know" he said to himself, cigarettes littered the floor. "I'll rule as a King Drug dependent" He was in a city ruled through religious monarchy. "I remember the compounds that separated me from the Arabs, we lived on a Filipino compound. It was the middle of the dessert, and one night it rained. I remember."

ok, maybe not ALWAYS! It never is because it always is... am, together!

2011-07-12T01:17:00.000-07:00

She got rid of it, erased it, but it belonged to her. She's the only one that'll miss it, antagonize over it. "I hate you" she yelled out from her third story window. "I never want to see you again because you don't want to be with me." She was infuriated by the way he made her feel. "Let me call you tomorrow" he said, willing to share himself somehow. "I don't hate you" he said, his words just sent shutters through her body. "You hate me" she demanded, stripped in front of him. Her hair was wet with furry and her brow broken, she fell into herself standing there speaking to him angry. "It's not your fault" he said. "How can you say that" she answered guilty. "I'm to blame. I broke your rule." Her voice kept breaking into a weep. It made him feel sad that she wasn't going to take this smoothly. "I'm not old enough to understand how this feels yet" she repeated several times. "I'm only twenty one, I've never loved anyone, I feel torn." She said rolling up the sleeves of her thick red sweater. "It hurts me so much baby, look, baby come look at what you did to me." She sat revealing her shredded forearm, it looked dissected and raw. You did this to me. "I can't stay with you baby" he repeated shocked by her blatant self-destruction "I didn't want that". He knew what he had done to make her feel that way, and he understood that her anger was blinding her. Her expectations formed deep grooves into her body. And it was all

Meet'cha there!

2011-07-11T22:26:00.000-07:00

Well equipped and stoked to be standing on the Ave, I was ready and it was only 7:30. I was totting all my gear and I was ready to shoot. The night was young and I had to wait for the party to begin. Something told me it's time to go down and visit the good old PawnShop. I was appropriately greeted by an ugly door man that treated me like his brother. Right then accordingly I was given the opportunity to reintroduce myself to Mr. Adam Thompson, an old business acquaintance.
I mentioned something about taxitalk, fiction, CeeLow Green and the Sonic Boom. He offered me his card and asked "Are you going to shoot the show tonight?"
I understand live music is special and it needs to be treated that way. "Shout Out Out Out Out, is gonna close!" he told me. So I got my brotha to stamp me, and by eight o'clock I was set again standing on the Ave.
The show didn't start till at least eleven. It took a while but eventually the bands started coming on and by the time Shout Out Out Out Out was ready to hit the stage I was ready to explode and so was the audience. The Band was great and the scene was sick with enthusiasm. People are here for one another in the city of Edmonton. And in a city so often associated with a hard coldness I felt like I could see the love emanating off the people. It was great, and I was hooked. Shooting live music in a Club venue is certainly always stimulating, challenging and it really gives photographers and media people opportunity to apply their knowledge in a fast paced environment. I got off in there shooting those Rockers, it was new.
Now the Honest truth, the reason the evening gave me such an overwhelming bout of joy wasn't only because I got to shoot inside the a Music venue, it was because I got to introduce myself on the scene. And it's all so fresh to me. It's the type of thing you line up at 7:30 for.

He didn't want to tell her he had already eaten fast food and felt kinda sickand bloated

2011-07-10T03:17:00.000-07:00

"It tastes different today" she said after just smelling it. "Is it bad?" he asked boldly. She looked it over smelt it said "No" and popped it back into her mouth. It was early evening and the sun was just going down. "It tastes chemically!" she said shifting the piece away from her face. She was still hungry and wanted it. He got up and asked "really?" feeling silly. She nodded, "it's that bad?" he asked while rinsing it off in the sink. It was awkward for him. They laughed at each other. The water made a splashing noise while he was cleaning it. "There we go" she said, sitting at the table watching him. He could see that she had a smile on her face, she was excited to get to eat fresh tonight.

I'm a fucking fake fuck!

2011-07-09T02:51:00.000-07:00

There isn't much more that I need to teach you
the lesson in over
now we're out to lunch.
Professors are Golden in the first semesters of course
then they start to fold and you find yourself cold and forever far gone
The meeting is cohesive and the material born of joy
the match up is imperfect
but wait that's perfect if I haven't forgot
my diary is read and ridden by my live ins
Me the Locust southern
I'm not remembering the world,
I do this to practice, I'm building my own kingdom and it consists of ...
There isn't much that you want to know dear, the messin is isiisisisisidkems

HE+ART

2011-07-08T02:56:00.000-07:00

She could hear herself breathing. He had just turned to bring her back the stuff. She stepped inside through the screen door, shutting it quickly. "The mosquitoes are terrible this year, don't you think?" The air inside the apartment smelt the same as she remembered. He came in holding the box, it looked heavy. He set it down gently next to the front door. It looked like he had taken care of the packaging himself.
"How's it going? " She asked form the kitchen table. He was wearing a thick beard and the same tattered clothing she left him in. "You're back!" he said. "I wanted my stuff." she said relaxing. Her reasoning made sense, she had invested a lot in them. The house, the car, the cutlery, "Want some cake" He asked abruptly leaning into the fridge interrupting her the same way he always had. "Bugs are bad this year'eh? " he asked coming up from the fridge with a mouth full of frozen ice cream cake.
All she could do was look at him standing there. It was half past three in the afternoon. "Is that the baby dragons birthday cake you're eating" she asked, "he's six this year." She watched him munching on the desert. "Yeah, yeah it is, we just had the party last night, there was sixteen kids." he told her and they both laughed. Then he laughed a little louder and said "I know you're no stranger to that." The humor died down quietly, they both kept their eyes on the floor together, they both felt so ashamed.
"So you kept the stuff eh." she said looking over at the tightly warped container. She remembered her shoes, the blow drier and scarf. He sat down at his desk at the other end of the room and said "I washed the toilet with your tooth brush." They both laughed out loud again. Then he said "Schools out eh?" proudly. "Yeah" she said suddenly realizing how bad she wanted to have the two of them over with. He sensed her nervousness, it made him smile. She quickly got up, "going anywhere?" he asked. "I have to go" she said hesitantly. Laughing he said "don't forget the box." "Thanks" she said anxiously smiling. He looked at her thinking she was beautiful as she gathered herself, and the box with her share of their stuff, to leave.
The door locking shut behind her immediately made her feel better. She had her stuff and everything between the two of them was officially forgotten, "It's over" she exhaled with relief. She was so happy as she walked toward the exit at the end of the hallway. But the happiness began to fade with each progressive step toward her goal. When she finally reached the end of the hall she stopped to have a listen to the sounds coming from inside that box. As she move her ear closer to the bass of the cardboard she began to hear a light beating. Not realizing what it was she moved the box closer to her ear, pressing it against herself. Then there in the doorway she realized that she had griped it from him, that he had given it to her from the start and she didn't know, it was him, it was his still beating ever present

Be my Moonday

2011-07-07T01:11:00.000-07:00

I just remembered his name, "Bob" he was older then me. The three of us set off on a grand journey. It was the weekend before my finals. I wasn't ready, but it was New Mexico it wasn't about being ready, it was about being able to go. Bob had just let me read his copy of "On the Road" which I stole, by Kerouac, Sean was with us too, he was visiting me from Canada. He picked the worst time, but I was so happy to have someone to reflect with. He hated Mew Mexico, "Shitty Vibe" was all he could say. I lived in a trailer, well I actually lived in an addition built onto a house made of three mobile homes welded together. It was great, I paid rent by teaching at a tiny private school. Whatever! Bob, Sean and me decided to go on an adventure together. We were to go to California to watch the sunset. Bob said he wanted to surf. I was twenty years old. We made the decision to leave over a bottle of Cazadores, a Tequila we purchased in Mexico early that Friday morning.
By the time we hit the road to Cali I had Pink eye, I don't believe my mom let me go. I was still such a dump ass. It didn't matter, I had driven my 323 alone all the way from Edmonton earlier that year. university wasn't a priority at the time either, yet I still managed to succeed, but not without snags. Bob drove a mini Van, so naturally we took his ride. It was the three of us and the open road.
I can remember Bob vividly. I met him through Shabbat. He was an individual, he lived in the dorms, and he smoked buckets of cigarettes, He also played guitar, I think that was how Shabbat managed to bring us together.
Bob came off as effeminate almost immediately, me and Sean never talked about that I don't think. I remember eating in the little Mexican restaurant in Tijuana, "Dog! this is DOG!" Sean yelled, all I wanted to do was find a big pile of prescription drugs and eat them before we had to go back to the States. We never got any drugs, Sean bought a poncho. I was Sunday, and you could tell that the Roman Catholic Culture still held it's hands around the people.

Just tell me if it's a boy or a girl.

2011-07-06T01:46:00.000-07:00

The two of them walked into the clinic in a daze.
-Is this really happening? she asked. They were both nervous. Just four months ago I remember telling you that I'd leave you and have an abortion, but look at us now, pregnant.
He looked her over excited, then remembered the conversation, the though repulsed him.
-an abortion, I knew that was unacceptable, I was the one who told you not to take the morning after pill. This baby isn't going to hurt us. He looked at her, he was only nineteen, but standing there in front of the radiology department he made her feel like he was a man.
-I'm not scared baby. She said to him in a whisper. I love you baby. The conversation made the others in the nearby waiting room cry. They both laughed, I'm happy we're doing this, she said smiling. He looked her over and brought her in closer to him. The receptionist yelled
-Jefferson's! The two stood up quickly, all he could hear in the back of his head was the sound of his father.
-ATTENTION! He winced standing there while she moved forward holding his hand. She took her next step without him.
-Baby? she said looking back, He was sweating.
-We're gonna find out the sex of the baby, he said standing himself back up. She could sense he was beginning to feel the weight of the situation. She smiled and continued having faith in him.
-What do you want baby? she asked curiously.
-I want a boy. He answered, she smiled back at him, realizing he was catching up. The panic she saw in his eyes a moment ago seemed to pass. He looked her in the eye as their two hands met. He could see she was nervous too.
-What do you want baby? he asked her back,
-I want a girl. She answered, the technician stood there examining her patient. The couple just continued to laugh amongst themselves. So what's the sex Doc? he asked the middle aged women scanning his soul mate.
-I can't tell you. She answered, she had a dull smirk on her face.
-excuse me? she questioned, looking up at her belly spread over the table. She could tell the women scanning her knew what sex the baby was going to be.
-Why won't you tell us? they both asked. The technician didn't look like she was going to change her mind.
-Because I'm liable! she answered aggressively.
-Why are you so angry at us? they asked, both interested in knowing where this resentment came from.
-Never mind! said the woman while gently handling the transducer over the newly formed curves just now starting to burst out of her teenage body.
-That can't be it. He said, irritated that she wasn't openly willing to share more of herself, he could tell that she was obviously unhappy with something.
-hey, where are you form? she inquired open to listening to anything the technician was willing to divulge.
-Alberta. replied the woman, she was re applying the gel needed to lubricate the skin for the exam. It really helps the test run much smoother.
-It's actually really soothing you know! she said. It feels good, it's like a massage at three o'clock in the morning. Do you do this lots?
- AHh, she said, squeezing out the final drops out of the translucent gel. She could tell it felt cold on her skin by her delicate reaction. This is an unnecessary test you know? The two just laughed. There is nothing wrong with you, you got gas the baby is fine.
-What? she gasped.
-You gotta fart baby! he said, while she lay there blushing.What's the sex anyway? Can't you tell us? He asked. We're here anyway, why won't you tell us?
-You really wanna know?
-yeah! they both answered, a look of relief came over the technicians face.
-Your doctor knew you had chilly for lunch, and he knew that you were having indigestion, he ordered the test because it's his way to grease up his biz, this clinic's biz, his buddies biz. It's how you stay competitive in the Canadian Bureaucratic Corrupt medical sector. The two laughed.

Dreams are for Believers

2011-07-05T13:02:00.000-07:00

Goals are for sportsfans
My dreams are things You can't see
unless you believe in me
I believe you can do that
and if you can't
then you can't play with me!
not because I won't let you
but because the game is still to complex with you!
I always win, and I never score.
when I dream
you're there too!

she is a playground with no children

2011-07-03T10:44:00.000-07:00

Rules my dear, I guess by my success, are meant to be busted open. Makes sense I hope?
No not really! I'm confused, I don't understand.
What I'm trying to say is, fundamental rules maintain that rigidity, it's a good kinda stiffness, kinda. What I mean is by breaking a rule in the right way you might end up fucking things up severely. So by breaking a rule you end up really stirring the pot.
What pot?
Ah, the world is an oyster just waiting to get cooked!
Cooked?
You know, waiting to have things done to it that it did not seem like it was designed to have done to it, the world is here to be busted. Mother nature is rule number one, and she's a slut, malleable, testable, because she's dependable.
I'm a woman! Do you think I should be busted!
Ha, yeah, right! You are a girl, that means you're already broken, you're here to teach me how to break myself by distancing myself from nature.
How do I do that?
You control my soul.
oh.
But I eat your heart.
yeah but I abort you unborn child.
yeah and I eat it.

she was happy he had money

2011-07-03T02:14:00.000-07:00

"You know just because you've lived in the east doesn't mean you know anything more about the world then I do!" she exclaimed exuberantly. He was flabbergasted, "you think you can understand a culture without actually living in it" he asked quietly. He understood her. She was young and full of books, blond and wearing high heels. He wanted to see her happy. She was younger then him, and he came from what she called the east."When I lived with my people, we used to think about America and we thought that there," he stopped and scratched his head. " We thought that, here" he pointed to his surroundings, "we wouldn't have to be worked by others. Then when I got here I realized that everyone wants you to work for them. I was no good at working for others back home, and I knew I wasn't going to have any success working for anyone here, so I started to tell people to do things for me here. And they did. Because here" he said again pointing out in front of him, "this is where people never learn, where they have no idea how good they got it." She laughed and turned away, then turned back and said "you mean, people here don't even know what they have because they've never be relinquished of it?" He stood there and had a think, then said "People here are told the truth, I tell them my truth." He looked happy she thought to herself. "Do you think I'm an idiot" she asked sincerely. He could see his reflection in one of her eyes, "Yes" he answered, then she laughed and knelt down in front of him.

Viral infection effect large coackroaches

2011-07-01T02:48:00.000-07:00

Having it trapped in the container is thrilling me because I have to let it go. I'm afraid it'll attack me the moment I pop the cap. Scary, the conception of pain, a feeling that is so far removed from what I actually want to do. I know what I need to do, but I wait and write the feelings this insect brings out over me. I'm oppressive and I know that, but I'll let it go. Let it escape run solo. I never kill anymore, killing is in another court. Not mine, a suicide line. Watching this insect dissect my intellect with .... I bet in the future, the life that evolves to the point that it travels out into space will be insect like life. It'll have an exoskeleton and it'll use it's wings to zip around in the zero gravity world. Then it'll eventually settle down on another planet and hatch babies that look human. Beetles can have rabies too. Space travel is going to be universal one day for feeling-less life.

and Bugs

2011-07-01T02:30:00.000-07:00

I saw you crossing the street. you were with your friends. I watched all of you jay walk. The four of you were done, it was a weekend. I was shocked to see the state you were in. I watched you talk to other men. You four are unfortunately something I can't envy. Girls partying past midnight, not working, hustling, but crusting, stagnating and rusting. The fast food, the cheap shrills will end. Losing weight is no success, when it comes at a cost you can't conceive. Magazine photo shoots are lies, brought down on sculptures, on strong stores of electric feelings.

six inch heels"

2011-06-30T21:02:00.000-07:00

eight hundred and eighty eight is a big number baby girl" he said to her. She was standing there looking at him, eyes wide, teary. "Daddy please" she whined, eerily. The couple sitting next to them sat, listening to their conversation. "Dad, please, I'll love you forever." she pleaded. "It's too, too much money baby, no." Then she sat down there silenced. "Daddy, I hate you!" she argued, he knew her. He spoiled her, rotten, perfection, was the vision in front of him. She could smirk, and smile and lie. "Daddy, you're not like mommy" she said, shocking him. "Why?" he asked, really reluctantly waiting for her response. "She wore

wishing well

2011-06-30T01:06:00.000-07:00

I know it's true, I know it's true
all those nasty things they say about you
I know I love you
I know I know that this passion is so not cool
I'm young you see, bewildered and shaken by empty people
who I work for
broke the stone for
I work far harder then they can imagine further then they can ignore
destroyed in a world that I built and hold
I know that this squandered heart is redemption for what has been
and is coming once more
change is no different then that nasty cork
it holds itself over until
it's pulled out.

I've been so lucky to have you!

2011-06-28T23:54:00.000-07:00

You know this more then I do, I know you do. I know I'm not always the best at pretending that the world is perfect, we both know that the best part about life is how fucked up it is. I'm awful. I am so bad, things were going so well and I fucked up. I am sorry that I pushed so hard. This is all just a test anyway, it's meant to bring everyone together. And we're the ones that are going to do it, for you know what. Life's in the back seat, perfect, feet. This is always what I see now, we've gone beyond the map now. It makes me laugh, it makes you cry, life's like that, and the opposite too. Life's bright. I have one because of my Mom and some dude I call the Man.

Dreams R Free

2011-06-27T10:26:00.001-07:00

Trust me!

"no Dad I want more yogurt!"

2011-06-22T18:06:00.000-07:00

"If he could forget, I would be so happy." He thought to himself. "A memory makes things real, memories can be fabricated and re fabricated, but not by children. Children remember everything, adults twist things to their liking. Most people lie all the time, they lie to themselves. Most people want to be happier, even though it's excessive happiness that makes them so miserable.
"I want another yogurt" the boy shouted loudly into his fathers ear.
"No you don't! you just had three and you ate supper, you're just thirsty" this father handed him a bottle of room temperature water.

You're in One!

2011-06-22T01:19:00.000-07:00

"So I published a picture of you!"she overheard him tell his friend on the telelphone. "Why don't you text?" she asked him. "I'm a lot older then you, I got used to speaking on the phone" he spoke with his fingers held over his mouth and ear. She looked him over.

-no-so how'd you get so used to using those?
-they've been around for over two decades! he was right, she didn't realize it because she was only two decades old. "you look great baby"he said
-who's pic did you publish-
-your moms-

There are some big days ahead of me

2011-06-21T02:35:00.001-07:00

There are some big days ahead of me
There are some big days ahead of me
There are some big days ahead of me
There are some big days ahead of me
There are some big days ahead of me
There are some big days ahead of me
There are some big days ahead of me
There are some big days ahead of me
There are some big days ahead of me
There are some big days ahead of me
I can handle them all!

I would never! Babies blow fire!

2011-06-20T00:42:00.000-07:00

"Good Girl" whispered into her ear. It was just what she wanted to hear. "I wanted you to tell me that" she looked up at him smiling, "there's nothing wrong with that is there?" she asked. He laughed and pulled at her blouse. "Take it off!" he said, looking rather faint. She listened. "Good girl" repeated. She laughed. "I love you" she affirmed by wrapping her hands around his neck and shoulders. Her naked chest exposed. "I love you with my whole heart" she said looking up at the light hanging above them. It reminded her of the sun, so bright. She could feel her pupils contract. He sat down on the bed, she placed her naked body on his. "Good girl" was all he could say, that made her smile. They kissed and she pulled herself closer to him. Their lips met over and over, he adored her intense pout and her red lips.
His cries went unnoticed for the first minute and a half. They had woke him up. "He doesn't know you're here" he said. "He doesn't know who I am" she whispered. They both looked at each other. They heard the sound of the littler foot steps tumbling in closer from up the hall. He quickly jumped and turned off the lights, a moment later the door swung open. He found himself in the arms of his five year old. She was out in the hall, "I'm not ready to be a mother at all" she thought to herself. She made her way out.

Island alley Volcano Blows

2011-06-19T02:49:00.000-07:00

She exhaled realizing she had said enough for him to call her bluff. But of course she wanted him to hear that. "I'm vulnerable!" she eluded, elegantly. "I love you anyway" he told her. He was off in a day dream. She stood next to him, thinking about how good the two of them felt together. He inhaled her perfume, she smelled of smoke too. He liked it. He was used to it. She hated herself for smoking, "I'm sorry for lying to you!" she confessed pulling the box of cigarettes out of her purse. He laughed, picked out her lighter and lite her cigarette. "Chivalry baby!" she said. After pulling out a smoke for himself he said, "No! I know I'm not half as bad as you, I know and I don't care. I never did." He sounded so sincere, it made her laugh. "I just want to touch your hair baby" he told her. She was still laughing as he filled his fists with her, gently. "I'll always be here ."

mirror Thing on the wall!

2011-06-18T03:39:00.000-07:00

I walked the streets of heaven all alone amongst so many people who never knew. The universe is just a piece of everything, a tiny one. I found out that I own a part of the whole thing today. God told me, who I am, who I am not, what I won't be. I found myself. Respect was dropped in front of me. By a man who forced his girlfriend to fight not for him, but because she did not matter. So many people are following their dream on the couch drunk, on drugs, stuck. Somethings we just don't want to face up to ourselves, like how meek we are when it comes to our own existence. How many of us are out there, looking through shitty blogs going, "Who the fuck does this guy think he is? He can't even spell clothes, Fucking Idiot" I know. It's me that makes that kind of mistake. But that flaw, it's a piece of the real estate I have in the whole part of the whole universe (the all of it). With it (my flaws) comes the ability to take a pretty solid beating. I am a failure waiting to happen again and again. I own that, and it is Universal. I respect that, because it won't change. Hey it's actually a human trait, but not everyone around me is human. They are just the empty space here to make ownership a maintenance process. Nothing is an obstacle in the massiveness, it's all suppose to be there. But that space is what gives our dreams room to breath, because imagine how shitty it would have been to have made it all the way to Mars without even having to have lost two and a half billion of the empty spaces........She fell on her face, on her chest, she was exposed and he was fighting a fire hydrant he was so drunk. It's awesome to think that all of them could have something that would be worth sharing. Nothing though, but bodies, I'm a Nuclease and I'm special because I'm flipped inside out and backwards. Huge piece of real state.There is lots to do here on a rainy day. Lot of leaks. Remember it's destiny to stink, it's an idiot's. One that like's himself, and thinks highly of the world that he believes in. We all know that the odds of actually being successful are really slim to none. So enjoy fucking everything up and stop, thinking you have any control. Then in the process of destroying your worthless self, you might, maybe, get to New York city, to see the city, and applaud a rock band you wish you were in. Or oh, imagine you could go to a third world nation, and push one of those African tribe's guy's girl friend onto the dirt road, and fight him drunk while kids die begging to have a day's worth of clean water. This universe the "whole" thing has that kind of space in it too. Lots of stuff that's hard to smash together.

Tiffanie's torture Games

2011-06-16T10:25:00.000-07:00

"Do you think that we're unique because we love?" Fred asked angry. "My fucking dog loves me!' he said leaning over the counter looking at Fluffy, his Boarder Collie bichon frise Cross. She looked at him and asked "What do you think?" then stopped, the silence between the two was overwhelming for Fluffy their puppy. "Bark" the dog snapped. They both laughed. She looked to her right at Fred who was standing there angry, thinking to himself passively "what makes me so different then an ape? Or my dog!" She just watched him. He looked so unhappy, bewildered. Looking at their dog, thinking about evolution she got down on her knees and looked up at him. His eyes met hers. Then slowly she began to crawl on all fours, past Fluffy, towards him. It made him laugh watching her pant in front of him.

this is a scary thing!

2011-06-15T16:13:00.000-07:00

"We're in a scary place" they both thought. "This is scary all together isn't it?" she asked, hungry. They were both in the darkness of their own lives, alone with others in houses that were getting all filled up with their existences, which were both rather interesting. They both had relationships and they both went about their day just the same, but when they found themselves thinking about one another they were both in the dark. "I can hear you" she said. "I can see you" he said. She smiled in the night, he reached out into his open space. "Why?" they both asked simultaneously, furiously, and most of all childishly. "I know" she said. He heard her and didn't care. He just sat there facing his screen, watching his lights turn on and off. She was wrong, and he was wrong, they both knew that. "This is a dark thing" he said, "Yes" she agreed. "We are from dark places" she added. Neither could feel the other, but they both agreed.

I'm guessing you wanna know what I dream about!

2011-06-12T23:08:00.000-07:00

Well there is a band and booze. All my best friends are there and the sun is shining. We're all happy. It's hard to imagine.

live in the ....not the jam of life

2011-06-11T02:57:00.000-07:00

Got plenty of time before the upload is complete. You're sick right?...Well you better be! I can't spend a moment of this eternity with the correct people, the ones who are all dangerously powerful, and mean. lol. I can't spell. I feed lots of others, I offer myself to get slammed around just asking to take part in that good time. "Fuck off" he told me. "What?" I said "I just wanted to smoke a joint!" It was true, but asking him was not the answer to that, his girlfriend was miserable. He just got her pregnant. They were sad about the abortion, so this night before, they got drunk to get ready to run down their grandmothers dreams and do that there morning after stab. "Fuck off" is a joke that god tells us all. "We need you to see us through!" they said. "It's because you're blind you fucking idiots"he said right before stepping into the lounge to have a drink. Hell is worthless here, heaven is for sale and not everyone can afford to go. But you can pretend to have a taste. There are profits though, they work at trying to pin point where this is going. The good ones know, the young ones are destined to cum back until they understand. The worlds running out though, so they might have to do it as cock roaches. Insects will rule those of us that organize

I have a special life...

2011-06-09T15:11:00.000-07:00

and a final at 6 so wish me luck, it's on childless lit, did you know Coraline was a PORNO! GaYman Who Knew!!!

.....the sex?

2011-06-08T21:51:00.000-07:00

gets better and better and ...

the intro written before calss

2011-06-07T16:32:00.000-07:00

because I wear cloths not clothes
lol

Ill always need an editor for everything!

no you wont

yes I will

suit yourself

asshole

fuck you

Introduction

Characters in Robert Munsch’s “The Paper Bag Princess” and Hans Christian Andersen’s “The Emperors New Cloths” largely inspired Elizabeth’s story “Did she Just Flip in Flip Out”. Inspiration was taken from the two shorts to create a unique tale that tries to inspire many of the same timeless values as its contemporary counterparts as well as ad some modern twists to help keep the readers from losing focus; skateboarding being one of the newer more modern themes. After finding Munsch’s “Paper Bag Princess” a modern story of gender role reversal, a decision was made to create a female protagonist. The story does not necessarily replicate Munsch’s values, but it creeps along the same theme, that independence is a virtue. “The Emperors New Cloths” brings on another level of thematic dimension by mashing in the whole issue of people following one another blindly. The Queen in this case is completely self- absorbed and incapable of realizing that she is on a path of destruction, yet the common people do nothing but follow her and help maintain a bad situation. Thank goodness for Elizabeth’s independent pursuit of her father, the lost King. Without his rescue and return the kingdom would be left to crumble in the hands of a wickedly ignorant Queen. Yet, once Elizabeth makes it up to the Dragon’s lair she finds her father, happily sitting, drinking milk. There are several layers of hypocrisy written into the story to give the reader a sense of their own reality. The ambiguity helps create a piece of text that a parent can read and a young adolescent may take in, and think about. Realizing that King James initial view of women where outdated and socially unacceptable is good. But realizing that allowing his love for his daughter to overcome and change his opinion is better. There is a nonsensical aspects also thrown into the story line, the Dragons house for example, this just helps the reader maintain the Dragon as a realistic reptile character in a mostly human world that needs theatric character to help create change.

Whored it out! on his sleeve

2011-06-06T23:16:00.000-07:00

   "So you wanna know bout'mixing the pot?" he asked her. "No" she shook her head, weepy, lonely. The music was in the room and the other girls were all close to him. He was playing the guitar. The drugs had taken effect and they were becoming ever more sensitive to the way he made them feel. He started talking. "It's actually a tragedy, real beauty, don't you know? he asked looking around, watching them react, high, light and drunk, in a wild reason of life. The groupies sat and waited to hear how the whole world died over and over and over again.
   "We live in a massive cauldron of hate and love mixing together. It's the dance between black and white" the sound of the guitar gathered in a feeling of silence in between its vibrations."Grey" he said laughing.
   "The Music is so good...God" one of the egg heads in the other end of the room moaned. It scared him, and he laughed out loud. "Love is pain and hate is perfection!" the girls went wild, the room was wet with passion and the past, everyone was dim and the shadows were dark and creeping. The Groups were in love, it was perfect. "I know, know, know, know, know" his voice echoed, touching them, shoving them down. "I'd trade it all to give you a....a ...a little push into the mind."
His skin was the skin of princes, she touched him, he was wearing a thick scarf, fox fur, and he felt of velvet. The night was somewhere that no one expected it to be, the gift was the sound that accepted their ridiculousness and loneliness in youth. The past was happening again and again.
   "Like do you think that we're badder ass then they were in the past?" He asked, strumming, providing them with his soundtrack. "Imagine the knights!" sitting there pondering he reflected watching the girls behave, they liked it. "They had to slaughter women and children" stopping to listen, leaving the guitar, electrically humming, ignoring the tone of the drums the boys in the back were beating. "They bathed in real death, they were beyond any fucking modern rocker, mother fucker, with a size six string dick." He stood up, heaving himself over three of the girls, who laughed watching him with their cave like stare. "This is the dream ladies!" he spoke, titanic, tortured and weak.
One of the ladies laughed, he took out a knife, with a blade that had a lot to say. He pointed the steel to his own throat. "No's" were gasping in the interior of the room, the depth of its stench stalling him, stopping him, giving him a chance to look around and see. "Everyone" he announce, tiered, stumbling, angry laughing, holding the night, a stain. No one turned to watch as he dramatically removed his heart.
   The applause came after he finished and all the rest of the girls waited for Her to eat. They were all so hungry, waiting for him to shut up and feed them his soul. Most of them played with the still beating heart, pawing at it. Until it stopped with a final thud and the Queen ate it.

he thought

2011-06-06T21:49:00.000-07:00

"Did you know he died of an overdose?" she asked angry. ""Did you know?" she repeated, he stood there looking her over, scared. "He died for me!" her voice was harsh, strained. He listened to her like she was glowing golden. "He died because I never let him in" her words were difficult for him to listen to. She just kept repeating it, "he died for me!" The sound of her heart became overwhelming, she wanted him to hold her but he just backed off. The two of them were in the same room, he was sober, sitting in the back, he lit a cigarette.
She began to cry. He was unhappy, sitting there watching her waste away.
"He killed himself baby!" he said, his hair curled round his mouth, black long strains of smoke filled the space next to him. "He was younger then us, he didn't deserve to die." he lied. He stood above her aware that he was the worst hypocrite.
"Yes" she remarked. "He was innocent of it all" stopping to catch her breath her face began to flush. "He loved me you know?" said the girl looking through her mangled bag trying to find a smoke. He threw her his packet, she picked it up, looked it over and threw it back. "I fucking hate the shit!" she managed to snort through her sobs. Then she found her kind, in her purse, and tore one out of its package. The smoke irritated her. She coughed.
"It was her who should have died"

sometimes maybe!

2011-06-06T02:12:00.000-07:00

They want to cut my legs off. They want you to stop looking at me because I'm beginning to feel sick. I've been grounded for way too long and I want out of this miserable room, out of my filthy world, this mess. So I've been tearing myself apart. Feels good to clench fist, get busy. Fixing the Boat, stinging the bee. My bones are stiff from sitting and stirring. I stopped fretting about the money. It's artistic integrity...stiff. Like my legs. Ugly!
Feels good to loosen up!
So now I'm off to try to succeed, to stare the dragon in the face.
"Come on, offer me freedom!" they waited, and the world fell apart, they all cheered in hatred. She was scared and alone. He was suppose to come back. "They never do." he said.
"Why?" she asked. He stopped. "Because people change!"

2ndBumROund!

2011-06-05T02:52:00.000-07:00

An intense, epic drama about Canadian heritage and the end of multiculturalism!!!!

There will be so much more to it then that, thinking bout writing it into a world of secrets ... And then explain how painful it is to reveal the truth.

Fuck that shit...

The reason corporations are so powerful is because of destroying them the common individual helps build the corporate castles of the white collar boss with a smile, because the blue collar average Joe just loves getting up and driving up through early morning rush hour traffic. Are you looking to burn...Gas!