Monday, March 7, 2011

The Stand

...Here's my most recent story from my grammar class...yes...grammar...

The Stand

I came up with this great idea today and I am pretty sure no one has thought of it before. I will probably start a revolution with it and become ridiculously wealthy. I don’t know if I can do it on my own, I might need some friends. But, if I ask them, I’ll have to share my wealth.

Nope, on second thought, this is my genius idea and I’m going to do it all on my own. I’ll just borrow my mom’s pitcher, table, ice, and cups. She won’t mind. I’ll pay her back much more when I become the world’s first trillionare. Maybe I’ll snag some computer paper and make a sign. I am going to be the richest and most genius fourth grader ever because of my completely intelligent idea of a lemonade stand.

It’s a really good thing my mom is taking a nap. I can use all this stuff without her knowing. Perfect. The alarm system is super sensitive so I have to be careful. There’s 3 items I have to grab without being caught on the cameras or making noise. I have to steal these to get the people off my back. It’ll give me a couple grand. Item one: the mysterious magical diamond incrusted pitcher. Ancient Armanians said that who ever puts water in it and drinks from it will live forever. Nobody believes that stuff anymore, so it’s the easiest to nab so far. No cameras, but surrounded by the cups. Gotta be quiet. Might as well grab the cups, I’ll make more dough that way. Stealthily and easily I made it to the cupboard. So easy. No alarm system. Ok, where’s my list, first item, check!

Second item. Table. Where can I find a table that I can take outside? Suddenly bullets start flying every which way. I’ve blown my cover. The gang found out my identity and I gotta make it out of here. Dodge left, dodge right. Oh good, some covering. A coffee table! Perfect. I’ll use this as my shield against baby face Johnson, slickest sharp shooter gang banger of the 20s.

Next. Paper. She’s not even paying attention. Not even looking. I can just snag the money right from her purse. Simple. Been livin’ on these here streets since I was 4. Mom and pop left me with nufin’. I can keep it up. But, it seems too easy. Way too easy. I’ll do a grab and run. This dame won’t even know what hit her. Grab and run, that’s what I’ll do. Won’ even look back. Got it.

Perfect, I have everything out. I’m ready to make my millions. The sun radiating heavily on my shoulders allow my head to be kissed gently by the heat. It feels good. The blue sky is almost to the point of it looking boiled, but not quite. I can handle it. I’ve been in the sun. We’re friends. It’s been 5 minutes. Nothing yet, but it’s still early. Not even noon yet. People don’t get thirsty until 1 or 2 anyway. I still can do it. These dumb cars driving by don’t even know what they’re missing anyway. I have the best dang lemonade in the city right here. Maybe I should have invited friends to help me. I’m a loner. Total loner. I’ve been alone since the beginning. Them other people can’t handle me because I work better this way. Last person who tried to deal with me I had to dispose of her. You know what I mean by dispose, right? Ha! Didn’t even know what was comin’ to her. That dumpster was sitting there in that back alley, just asking for her. The scream of the gun was so distant. Almost too distant. I gotta make my mils by myself. Only person I can trust. Nobody can handle this.

Cars keep passing by me and the people in them look at me funny, so I just look right back at them. They won’t know what’s coming to them. When I become rich, they’ll feel bad. I won’t give them anything. Glaring back at them, I hold my cardboard sign high. “Need food, God bless.” I may not look like what I used to be, but I have dreams too. The cars fly by my corner while I sit there, the mangy mutt that has been following me for awhile is lurking in my peripheral. Pregnant flies buzz around his matted fur and I constantly shew him away. This is my corner and I have made sure of that. I need this for my survival. It has been almost 3 months that I’ve been here. Rich folks in their Cadillacs and Cameros pass this intersection and throw their bills and quarters at me. I ran into Julia Roberts once two. Nice lady, handed me $20. An old lady who reminded me of a bull dog, she shook her jowls at me and told me to quit doing drugs and get a life. She doesn’t know me. I used to be someone.

It’s been 30 minutes in the summer sun now and my body is starting to drip sweat. I’m getting thirsty. Just one glass, I have to make sure it’s still cold anyway. With a giant gulp the cold fresh liquid fills my every pore from the inside out. The man who offered it was kind, but there was something mysterious about him. It feels good with each sip like my entire body is being rejuvenated with hydration and something else. I can’t quite name it. My body seems like it is floating and I will never be thirsty again. Wouldn’t that be nice, to never be thirsty again. I could get used to it. He was a very nice man, still there was something to that drink. The world is getting black and I lost feeling to everything in my body. Except for my hands and my hands burn. The burning is so extreme that it feels like the very fires of hell are lapping at my fingertips. I don’t know if I can handle it. I was so thirsty. I had to do it. My body needed it.

The sky is so blue today and so clear. The tree my parents planted when they first moved in is huge now and provides the perfect protection and shade from the extreme heat. It touches just the outskirts of my brilliant business. There still isn’t any bite on my new plan. Maybe $2 a cup was a little extreme. I’ll lower it a dollar. The store across the street always claims to have lower prices. I’ll show them. I can sell socks just as well as they can. I just got a new shipment of Nike’s new hydrofit socks. No beating this. I’ll sell them for the price I got them for. I’ll brake even, but there’s not any possible way that they could beat my price. Then maybe people will buy more socks. Then I’ll be rich.

Ok. $1 is a pretty good price. I have to get some bites off of this price. They always say raise the price to the point the people will go to. I’ll just wait a little bit longer and drink another cup. It might get warm. This is still a genius idea. I’m getting hungry, but I know people will love my idea. Oh look, here’s a car. The car drives up slowly to me, rims shining in my eyes. Here’s the big business man that wants to take my idea and make it global. I can see his silhouette in the shadow of the heavily tinted black Lamborghini doors. The window rolls down slowly and a partially drank milkshake drops from some unfriendly hands and thick pinkish brown liquid jumps out of the top of the cup and splatters in a perfect shaped upside down triangle on my newly written NOW $1 sign. I hear a snicker and the car squeals away from the corner of my road. My mind goes numb with rage. I now know that this is going to be totally worth it and I will make millions. If history class has taught me one thing, it has taught me that the oppressed rise with double the force. Take Rosa Parks and Martin Luther King Jr., they both were told they cannot amount to anything or receive the rights they want and they both ended up achieving them through all of the persecutions. I can stand up to a spilt milkshake. I will change the price to 75¢ per cup. This will bring in people and I won’t know what to do with myself. I will be forced to hire my friends to help me. I am going to sit down, fold my arms and wait. This will work.

The summer day is getting hotter and hotter. My head is now feeling like a Thanksgiving turkey being broiled in the oven. It is so incredibly hot and the ice cubes are slowly shrinking in my pitcher. The last penguin in the north pole watches all of the icebergs melting into oblivion and creating problems. He sits and sighs, remembering good times of sliding and swimming in the cold ocean. Now it is getting hotter, almost boiling. Everywhere he turns the fish float up on their backs with glazed over eyes and a stench that could only mean certain death. The iceberg the penguin is sitting on moans as a crack appears in the middle. The penguin scoots to the other side and hopes for the best. He knows that if he leaves to get food, the iceberg will be gone and an opportunity will be lost. It doesn’t matter how tired I am, I need to stay here. Maybe I can run into the house for some more ice, quickly.

The sun shines--I don’t know why it shines, for some reason this sun shines ridiculously hot; this sun shines so hot that eggs can boil on the side walk, fish even brush the surface and turn into fried fish sticks, children play outside and turn into lobsters (literally), smiles fade quickly with the lack of moisture in their bodies, and people become florescent white because of all of the florescent light bulbs they use for their houses. I need to stay out of the sun. A car is outside and when I run up to the table, 5 people are using their own cups to drink out of. I run out and ask them what they’re doing. They snicker and run. Some people really don’t see good things when they’re in front of them.

Protect the booty, that’s what I’ve been told and that’s what I plan on doin’. The captain gave me strict orders to protect this booty. Been found by a treasure map on some deserted island so it’s my job to protect the booty. I know them scallawags on this boat will try to steal some of it, but I have to protect the booty. Protect the booty, the captain told me to, so I have to follow through. I just thought of a genius plan--again--I know, I’m full of them. I will invite my friends to come over to help me guard this thing, I am a hard working person and business man and I need some support and help in creating my lemonade empire. They will protect this from predators and help me spread the word.

Walking down the street, the group looks sly, sharp, and excited? Their trendy sunglasses and clothing make them look like some sort of crew out of the movies. Walking up to me in a half circle pattern, I know that my friends are willing to be my body guards for my enterprise. I explained to them the rules and what their roles are over the phone, so I really expect no funny business. This will snap my business into shape.

After hours of waiting, it seemed, in the heat and my friends who were drunk off of the lemonade, another car stopped at the corner. They rolled down the window and threw 25¢ at me then drove off. I ran up to the coin, snatched it just before it hit the ground and kissed it. I kissed that quarter like it was the first glass fresh water I have drank in over 5 years, like it was gold that I had found after a long journey on a deserted island, like it was my saving grace in a gun fight, like it was my long lost lover, like it was a priceless jewel I just stole from an expensive dealer, like it was a drop of rain from a cloud hovering over my head on this hot day. I grabbed that quarter and held it up to my friends. They looked down at me like I might possibly be the craziest person they have ever met, and went back to drinking my precious liquid gold and chatting. Silly children, they don’t understand the importance of hard work. This idea is genius and I made a profit off of it. No one understands how genius my idea is and totally original, too. I’ll come back tomorrow and try again.

Today God decided to send Noah’s floods again, my lemonade stand is floating down the street. I know that I will make a ton of money today because I have a mobile business. I will be on the news as the world’s first floating Lemonade Stand, or it would if my mom would let me. Parents ruin everything.

Wednesday, August 25, 2010

The Stance

Walking around campus again at the beginning of summer brought back some funny thoughts.

So, I'm walking around the bookstore spending my hard earned money on school supplies and I run into a friend. Of course. And yes. I have friends. Here's my friend with her bright smiling face walking towards me. Her voice calls out my name and I say hello and we commence in our conversation. After I finish in my errands and was walking home and ran into yet another friend. Yes, I am a very popular person. Then it happened. Just as it had earlier. The Stance. I was about to go, but The Stance isn't something you can just ignore.

Here's what the stance is:

1. The person comes at you smiling and happy to see you. Of course you're flattered by your friend because they say your name and even some times tag some pet name along with it.

2. You walk up with the same smile on, but not as ready to stop and talk.

3. They place their body in front of you in away that the only way to get around them would be rude or you'd knock into them.

4. Then they turn their whole being to you. Now you can't get out for at least 5 minutes and the conversation generally consists of "What have you been doing?" "How've you been?" "What's the year like for you?" "We should hang out sometime!"

The Stance is impossible to get out of without being or pretending you're in a hurry. If that is the case or you just don't want to continue in awkward conversation with a friend you're only friends with when you run into them I suggest running and yelling "Sorry! I'm late!" It works every time.

Sunday, August 15, 2010

Schlitterbahn Shades

Geez it's hot out here. And bright. When did this happen? I guess it's what happens.

Yeah, yeah, yeah... don't complain it's hot and bright at least you get to look at everything a couple of shades darker and aren't solid black. Yeah. That's right I'm talking to you. You with the oily nose and eyelashes that are caked with that black crap that swipes all over me. I hope you get zits and your eyelashes fall out with all of your complaining.

Where the heck am I? There's fat people everywhere that really shouldn't be in swim suits. I don't understand lady, why are you wearing a bikini that is 3 sizes to small for you and you are at least 30 pounds overweight for it. Kind of disgusting if you ask me.

Oh and speaking of gross, what's the deal with all of those tattoos on those incredibly large people? Look at that chick, she's got partially nude women on her shoulder blades and that man has a tramp stamp. A tramp stamp? Really? Are you serious right now? Come on man! Grow some...

I really find it quite hilarious what these humans will go through. They wait for hours to ride on a water slide that lasts only 15 seconds max. BAH! Look this girl has been waiting for 30 minutes in the 100 degree weather standing on pavement that looks hotter than it is up here and probably burning her feet off just for a ride that lasts not even a quarter of what her wait was. Don't get it.

Oh, we finally made it to the end I was wondering. You better hold on to me stupid girl or I'm going to fall right off your face. HEY! I saaiiiid hooollllllld ooooooonnnnn.........


Monday, June 14, 2010

Frustration

Can I have my way JUST once?

When I want to achieve a goal,
can I just achieve it for once?

Can I have my way just ONCE?

When a guy walks into the room,
can he be mine first just once?

Can I have MY way just once?

When school gets hard
can I understand it completely just once?

Can I have my WAY just once?

When I think of my way
has God already given it to me just once?

Saturday, May 15, 2010

The Other Guy

So this was just a random brainstorm. I could probably go with it more, but I don't really want to right now. :) Enjoy!


Yes, I am that guy. The other guy. That one guy who doesn’t get the girl in the end. It sucks. You hear all of these stories and see all of these movies about these couples that find each other after going through hell in their relationships, and then end up dumping their perfectly fine partner and romantically finding each other. Generally ending up in a long, slow motion, make out session complete with a orchestra and everything. Well, you never really realize what we go through during that scene at the gate of the airplane on your way to a destination wedding, at a train station, in front of a taxi cab, or in the rain after an argument. Do people not understand how really unfaithful this supposed “heroin” is being if she has someone like “the other guy?” I mean seriously, think about it: the girl is finally doing what is good for her and dumping that guy who’s been a jerk to her and settling down with the guy that can support her and love her and give her the life she deserves, but she dumps that perfect opportunity for the loser. By loser I mean that guy who doesn’t offer her any opportunities, but love and some decent sex. What in the world is going through her head? It’s not like the love with guys like me (the other guy) is fake. It’s just as real as the other one. I just don’t understand what’s wrong with these girls.

Tuesday, March 23, 2010

Periodical Section

She glanced at him from across the large library tables.

Cute. Tall, dark, and handsome type. He dresses nice too. One of those guys you can tell tries to keep his appearance up. He looks intensely at his notes and dell laptop screen, studying, memorizing, reading. The pen in his ear twitches as he raises his full dark eyebrows in contemplation or realization.

The quietness is so loud it's distracting.

She looks at him again. Almost staring. As soon as he looks up, she acts as if she was looking at something else. He feels his warm stare on her face. She contently types more on her computer, making sure he can see her face even more with her extremely useful seat where everything he does is visible. Out of her peripheral vision she notices he's gone back to work. She watches him carefully, prepared to quickly glance out the window at the large grassy hill and slightly budding trees. He looks at her again and her preparation pays off until he gives her a sideways smile and an eyebrow raise.

The couple sitting on the outside hill cuddling in the freezing wind, studying, don't move.

He picks up his things and moves over. Keeping the same look on his face the whole time. He speaks to her in the silent words made for the library and takes the seat directly in front of her. The words don't come to her mouth, but the same expression is sitting gently on her face.

He motions over to the large shelves in the back of the library and mouths that he wants to show her something. They stand up and walk towards the ominous dusty shelves in the back. Her heart thumps loudly in her ears as she slowly begins to realize what is happening. Her stomach twists in knots as he takes the back of her head gently in his hand and pulls her closer. Closer. Until she slowly blinks.

He picks up his things and places them in his backpack and walks away.

Wednesday, February 24, 2010

Poetry

For Natalie
**Side note: These are pretty much ALL of my assignments from my Creative Writing class. THAT I LOVED! Enjoy

Lunch


Crunch

munch, munch, munch

Gulp-Gasp!

Crunch

“Delicious...”


An Introspective Query

Kyle Green Mirror. Why is it always the mirror that gets to me in the morning? I hate it. All I see is another guy. Someone who is so positively revolting I don’t know how on this god forsaken planet any other male could ever want me. My eyes are crap brown and my hair matches, what is interesting about that? I look the same as every other freaking American on the planet. It’s like when you see a bunch of Asians in a group together, they all look the same. I look the same. Crap, now I have to go and work for “the man” again. It’s a good thing I at least enjoy my job somewhat, now I can really take advantage of those kids in high school who would call me a faggot. While I’m busy at work, they’re sitting in their hell holes playing the very games I create while they munch on another one of mommy’s cookies. Mom, oh crap! I forgot to call her back again. I wonder if Dad knows anything about her talking to me, I guess he assumes she does, but since that fight...ah eff. I need to give up on that. Dang my pours are clogged.


Hatim Smith There he goes again. What is his deal? Does he honestly need to look at himself for that long? What a weird guy. How long have we lived together now? 2 months and he does the same exact thing every morning. Rolls out of bed into the bathroom, brushes his teeth for like 30 seconds, puts on wrinkled work clothes (including his florescent orange tie and dark brown corduroy pants) and thickly framed black horn rimmed glasses, and stares into the mirror for the next 30 minutes. At himself. Nothing else, but himself. He always looks like he’s brooding about something. What is his deal? Come to think of it, I’ve never seen him shower. He does kind of stink. You’d think a gay guy would care more. At least I think he’s gay. I do catch him checking me out occasionally. EH! That’s just too far, I really need to find another place to live.


Janet Green Why doesn’t Jim just get along with Kyle? That’s the same fight we’ve had for the past 8 years, since he was 16. Kyle’s gay. My little boy is gay, I’ve accepted that I won’t have any grandchildren, why can’t he just accept it too? Gay...my only son is gay. What’s wrong with that? Nothing. nothing is wrong. I remember when I would make him his turkey sandwiches with the crust cut off and he would immediately take it and squash it until the mayonnaise was dripping out the sides and the whole thing was paper thin. I didn’t think anything was wrong with that, so what’s the problem with him being gay? It’s just like smooshing your sandwiches-- just a preference--but in men... Oh when is that boy going to call me back?!


Jayne Thompson I wonder what Kyle is doing tonight? Probably just watching his scifi movies while he sits on his lovesac eating his puffy cheetos. Dang, I should call him. I wonder if his new roommate is ok? His insecurities generally don’t allow him to make friends very easily. I wish he was closer to Seattle instead of living in Newark. I think he’d be doing better, I don’t know though, maybe he is since the last time I talked to him. I wonder if his parents are still struggling with the concept. Probably. Since Dartmouth, they haven’t been on very good terms. His poor mother, I can still hear her crying on the phone to me telling me to make it be different. I don’t really understand what the big deal is, since the night after we...well after he discovered he was gay, I’ve been ok with it. Perfectly fine. I don’t know what the big deal is.


Learning in College


Introduction

There are a few things that one will learned when college teaches you. How to read, relationships, what not to do, sociology, and where ever there is free food you will find an incredulous amount of students.


How to Read

When I am in school, I generally don’t “learn” anything, per-se, it’s more of a let’s-see-how-many-pages-I-can-fit-in-without-sleeping kind of thing and an I-need-to-finish-this-assignment-so-I-can-pass experience. In reality, the information goes into my head as long as is needed and dumped as soon as the test arrives. The true learning doesn’t come until I’ve graduated with my degree and realize for the first time that “crap, I really didn’t pay much attention in college, did I?” So, in school, you don’t learn important information for life, you learn how to read that important information and hope that those thousands of dollars of debt you are in will hopefully pay off.

**[skip down to where ever there is free food...]


Finding Free Food

Now, picture this, you are now an undergraduate student walking to lunch and outside you see a ridiculously long line that starts in the distance from what looks like...oh yes...I think that is a table. What is the first thing that pops into your head? Food. Freaking free food. Best thing on the planet earth. Forget those quarters that have been sitting in your pocket weighing you down since 10 a.m. You don’t need the vending machine Jose Olé burrito anymore. You get free food. Even if it’s crap. It’s free. Now, let me weigh my opportunity cost here. Judging by that line, I’d say it’s about 30 minutes to the table. Am I really that hungry to sit in line and listen to the people behind me flirt relentlessly or should I just deal with my burrito?


Teddy is SIX!

My little brother


Teddy

Is six today


And

I am twenty-


One

Day the gap wonʼt


Seem

That big and we


Will

Know each other


Better

Start now than


Never

Because Teddy is


Six!



Listen.


Static is all that is coming out of those blasted speakers.


The shiny metallic knobs are turned, and it remains the same.


The volume knob makes it louder, but all that is heard is static.


Annoying.


The tarnished, bent, v-shaped antenna on the top is twisted and


contorted so much just for the same sound renders it useless.


A futile attempt to lengthen it brings out the same result.


Listen



Running Away


As the air goes in and out, in and out of my lungs,

the stress leaves my body with every breath.


As the air goes in and out, in and out of my lungs,

the small clouds of breath disappear with each stride I take, and my stress disappears.


As the air goes in and out, in and out of my lungs,

the cold air strikes at my lungs as I suck in the oxygen for my aching muscles.

Each stride I take I leave a footprint of the cold stress on the frozen ground.


As the air goes in and out, in and out of my lungs,

my legs start to follow the rhythm of my racing heart pumping oxygen in and out of my lactic acid filled muscles carrying away the stress with every beat, and my feet start to follow allowing my stress to disappear.



Rainy Day


Clinching jaw while coercing

through the rain.

Clock clicks loudly clinkering

through the house.

clink

clink

clink

Jaw grows tighter coercing

through the rain.

Rain tinks softly on the

window pane.

tink

tink

tink

Coming home with squishing

feet.

Listening to tiny feet

patter

through

the

house.



The Classroom

As much as I love to


flirt,

I donʼt like to hear it from


you.

Yes,

You.

The girl who giggles


nonstop.

The boy who tries


too hard.

Give

Up.

Nothing is going to happen.

Iʼm trying to pay attention.

You need some serious separation.

Please

STOP!


Substance of Life


Water

Is

Everywhere.

And yet, I am thirsty.

The blue plastic almost brings comfort

To my exhausted muscles.

My fingers fumble to find the strange ridges.

My hands find the surprisingly supple sides,

And they squeeze the substance of life into

My fatigued and enervated sense of being.

The spout slips softly between my teeth

And a new sense of hydration envelops.

My exhausted muscles

Found the serenity in the blue plastic

with the white letters.

Everywhere

is

Water.