The Eleven Prodigëeys and the Boulder

All good things must come to an end ...

2009-07-18T13:35:00.002-05:00

... and VAMPY, being very good, is one of those things. It's difficult for me to even express how much I've enjoyed teaching you ... And talking with you, and discussing art and life and literature with you, and giving you vintage Power Ranger stickers, and yelling "COOPUN!" at you, and just generally being around you. It's a rare gift to have such intelligent and curious and talented students, and it's even more rare to have intelligent and curious and talented students who are also kind and courteous and funny and sweet. I, too, wish VAMPY could go on forever.

And I hope that it will, in some sense: this is your blog. Use it! I hope to see more of your writing, and your thoughts about writing, and about the wonder that is Chuck Norris.

I was reminded today of a poem by one of my favorite teachers, Robert Creeley. Though he passed on shortly after our class had ended, he left me with so much, as he taught me so much about life and teaching and art. As I've gotten the same gift from you, I thought I'd share this:

This walking on
and on, this
going and coming—
this morning

shines such lovely
light on
all of us
we're home.

A Martian Sends an E-mail Home

2009-07-17T09:53:00.002-05:00

Many ghosts play a game with
Many rectangles.

Some rectangles are scary.
Some are peaceful.

They do stuff with paper
With markings on it.
Hit each other with it,
Tape to their body.

Sometimes lights go off early.
Sometimes lights go off late.

They get on a raised piece of wood,
Do stuff as a group.

They start to glow and stand
Up on their feet.

Sometimes they stay rooted
With nothing to say.

They like to make each other gleam,
That make them go short-wired robotic.

Knock Knock
Who’s There?
Pika
Pika Who?

Knock Knock
Who’s There?
I Choose
I Choose Who?
I Choose You

They seem to fall to the ground
Quite often as if they been turned off

The mush that they digest is light,
But can often be dark.

There are many of them.
They stay locked up most the day.

Sometimes they’re let out,
Into the open.
Where there is light,
And things that are not man-made
And that are.

Aliens get confused too.

2009-07-15T20:24:00.000-05:00

Everyone is different here.
But their days are exactly the same,
And they're all showing their teeth, all the time.
Smiling?
Forced to put unknown thing of every size and color into their bodies,
but still smiling.
Forced to pin their name into their skin,
but still smiling.
Forced to climb a mountain at least twice a day,
but still smiling.
Forced to sit in a restraint for more than six hours everyday,
but still smiling.
Forced to listen to a higher authority all the time,
but still smiling.
Forced to run until you find a flag,
but still smiling.
Forced to stand on a platform with newspaper all over them in front of everyone,
but still smiling.
Forced to stay up until two in the morning,
but still smiling.
Forced to be around the same people all day; everyday; for two weeks,
but still smiling.
What makes them like this?
What is so amazing about a place called VAMPY?9

Installment 4 of Dreamcatcher

2009-07-15T15:57:00.000-05:00

After I finish writing in my diary I take a shower and brush my teeth. Toothpaste is instantly washed off the smooth, white tub floor. The floor is also washed clean of shampoo and soap as a constant stream of scalding water pounds my back and head. I adjust the water and continue washing.

I reach around to wash my back. My arm stops, having discovered a block. I drop the sponge and reach back again. My fingers brush something scaly and I jerk back, my mind clouding over with the haze of panic that occasionally plagued me.

I clear my head, relaxing, barely managing either. I slowly pull the curtain back, not even hearing the many clinks coming from the metal rings attaching the screen to a metal rack. I creep over to the fog covered mirror and wipe it clean with my towel, I glimpse something green and gold behind me, I whip around... but I can't see anything.

I reach back and to feel for the scaly thing again. It isn't there. I look back at the mirror and there is nothing there. I wonder what's with all the strange things happening lately. Something tells me the best is yet to come.

Beatles Haikus

2009-07-15T14:48:00.000-05:00

Dr. Robert:
"Your mother should know"
...I should have known better...

Hey Jude, Michelle--
With a little help from my friends
We can work it out.

Julia, girl
Do you want to know a secret?
I've just seen a face...

VAMPY, from a martian's perspective

2009-07-15T14:38:00.003-05:00

DUC is no longer a yellow bird
That rests on liquid glass
It is now an open room
Drowning in harsh light,
Where they sit at frozen horses
And transport shapely mush
From stiff bigger circles
To small, maleable circles.
8:45 means they stop transporting mush
And begin to pump their pistons,
which fuss and hiss and let off steam
As they struggle over
The raised lump of land,
A blanket rumpled up in the middle,
Reaching for that brilliant blue sheet
Draped over this "Earth."
"Class" means resting upright
And claiming to be in a circle--
But this circle isn't round like DUC circles,
It's shaped more like an egg yolk
After escaping from its smooth white prison.
During "class", they
bend their furry skulls and little soul-windows
Over blank sheets,
Grasping narrow twigs
That flutter across blue lines
And whisper sweet nothings
To their pale, lined lovers.

suicidal cheerleader

2009-07-13T18:45:00.000-05:00

“This is unnecessary. I don’t need therapy. A cat clawed me and I don’t cut myself, but while I’m here I might as well listen and do what you say. I'm a very happy 16 year old girl with no psychological problems whatsoever. I'm perfectly happy with my life and nothing bad has happened recently aside from the death of my mother. I got these cuts on my wrists when I fell down and scraped my arms at my mother’s funeral. My dad later found me crying about her death in a corner with cuts on my wrist and wrongly assumed I was cutting myself. The knife I was holding was one I had just found laying on the ground where someone could step on it and get hurt. Being the concerned citizen I am, I picked it up and moved it. I don’t know where the blood on it came from but because no one was around I figured it wasn’t important and didn’t tell anyone. I'm not emo or anything!! Even though I have plenty of reasons to be I’m not because I’m a stronger person then that. Just because my mom just died, my boyfriend broke up with me, my car was repossessed, my iPod stolen, my TV broke, I lost my job, I have no money, my father’s depressed, my grades are failing, and I feel like suicide doesn’t mean I’ll actually kill myself! It hurt way too much for me to try that again. When- I mean if I was going to kill myself I would find an easier way, like gas or something. I heard about this guy plugging his exhaust except for a small tube that led to the inside of the car and killing himself that way. It seems like a painless way to die, asphyxiation, much better then slitting my wrists. It would be simple I just wait until my dad’s asleep… sneak into the garage… start the car… and die. Not that I would of course! I’m a perfectly rational, levelheaded girl that wouldn’t even consider suicide! Let alone ways to do it! I love life way too much for that and besides, what would dad do without me?”

Journalistic Essay~~Treading the Unknown Waters

2009-07-13T18:12:00.003-05:00

“Shut up!”
“Leave me alone!”
“Hello, kinda busy here!”
“I’m trying to watch the screen!”
“What are you even doing here?”
The voices of the nicest kids around enveloped me like a safety blanket…if it was made of thorns, that is. Who would have guessed that a game of Super Smash Brothers would make the audience watching the epic battle become so aggressive? Where does the madness end? Honestly in my opinion I found it absolutely silly. Really, all I was trying to do was figure out what in the heck was going on and I was getting yelled at for asking simple questions.
I struggled out of the mass of kids who had their eyes glued to the TV like anxious five year olds waiting for SpongeBob to appear on the screen. When I finally managed to make my way to the back of the crowd, amazingly not angering somebody a single time, I let out a huff of angry breath. Exactly who did they think they were? Truth be told their evident addiction to this game I had no idea about was sort of creepy.
Instead of braving the crowd again and risk losing my head over a small, “Who is playing with which character,” I decided to stand at the back and observe their behavior. It was like watching a herd of animals interacting with one another. They were pushing and shoving trying to get the best spot that was closest to the screen. It reminded me of wild African animals fighting over the best drinking spot at the watering hole. They were pressed so tight together that I’d be surprised if a stick figure could squeeze through the cracks if they didn’t want him to. In that sense they reminded me of a herd gathering tightly in order to protect one another from any potential predators that might try to harm them. Though I might consider these people slightly more civilized of course.
“You had him!”
“Come on that was easy!”
“Finish him off!”
And of course my personal favorite, “Failure!” were the main conversational phrases that they managed to spit out hurriedly before returning to their trance like state. No one bothered to speak to one another, no matter if they were friends or not. Psshh, who would want to talk to someone when you could be rotting your eyes out? It almost felt like there was some unspoken rule about you couldn’t interrupt the quiet except in cases such as those, and even then you only had 10 seconds to yell out whatever expression you chose. It was a new country ruled by a dictatorship and the person in charge was Silence himself.
Once you got past the eeriness of not having any noise you could look closer upon the throng. There were so many different types of people. Boys, girls, short, tall, skinny, chubby, tan, pale, long hair, short hair, nerds that looked like nerds, nerds that didn’t look like nerds at all. It was amazing. In fact it was almost enough to give you a sensory overload. All of these different people come together in one group because they had one similarity: their love for Super Smash Brothers. My eyes roamed over their physical differences; I was used to seeing cliques that had the same physical features. This was new to me and I kind of liked it. It opened a whole new world of possibilities.
Normally cliques concentrate around having the same appearance on the outside, and having the same personality on the inside. Somehow though, it seemed these kids had learned a way around that. They didn’t all dress the same, have the same hairstyles, or any of that. They just dressed how they wanted and it seemed that as long as they were bound by their love of the game being played that was enough to hold them together. Could it be possible that any number of random kids could do that at any point in time? I began to believe so and if that was true then the entire social order could be reconstructed!
When you looked even closer you also could notice a similarity that they all shared with facial expressions. As I watched their faces would fall into a grimace together, raise into a smile together, their fists would clench and unclench almost as if they were one living breathing organism. When I looked at the small TV screen all I saw was two characters fighting back and forth. I had no idea who was winning, who was losing, or even how you went about winning in losing. Evidently I was the only one with that problem. Even though I had no idea how to digest the graphics on the screen, I always knew when something good or bad happened to one of the players by studying their facial expressions.
I eventually gave up on my crowd watching from close up and I returned to my normal group of friends that were sitting nearby. Thinking that maybe they might answer my questions I proceeding to ask my friend Zack exactly what the heck was going on. I was shocked by his reply.
“Would you just be quiet? Some people are trying to watch the game here. “
I stared at him in awe. The two of us had a very odd relationship with one another, saying mean things perhaps, but always meaning it in a joking way, but this time he was being absolutely serious.
What in the world was this game doing to people? I scowled in his direction, “Umm, you want to tell me exactly what made you so cranky today? Because last time I checked simple questions weren’t exactly illegal.” He just shook his head in my direction not even bothering to look away from the game as his did so. It was incredibly nice to know that watching that TV screen was much more important than talking to me.
Shaking my head and deciding that starting a fight wasn’t worth it I turned to my roommate, Caitie, and Zack’s roommate, my other friend, Derek. I was hoping that maybe from them I would finally get some answers that didn’t involve telling me to shut up. My hopes were quickly shattered by the fact that they were to absorbed in a card game called Speed. Who knew that in my quest for knowledge I would be left so alone?
Deciding that maybe I would try one more time to immerse myself in the group of zombie kids crowded around the television screen I learned that my earlier failure had been nothing. I made the mistake of walking up to the biggest guy in the group. He was very skinny, but he was also very tall compared to me. Before I had time to back out I spit the words from my mouth. “Who’s winning?” He gave me the worst look in the history of bad looks. He stood a good 6 inches over me and when he looked down at me his eyes were filled with what could be pure rage. I took a quick gulp. “Ummm, never mind, thanks anyways.” Within seconds I was back in my seat cowering behind the backs of my friends. I had just learned the epitome of the phrase “epic failure”.
Suddenly there were excited woops of laughter. Fists began punching the air and a steady chant of, “You’ve got him! Finish him off! Yeah!” filled the room. I could only assume that someone was fixing to win the challenge. Suddenly Zack jumps up and begins to join in the frenzy. His sudden actions scare me enough to almost make me fall out of my chair and flat on my face. Even Caitie and Derek look up to see what’s going on, an amazing feat in itself since they had been in their own little card world just minutes before.
I learned later that the game had been won…FINALLY. The cheers and random fist pumping seizures had been in honor of the winner. Amazing that I could guess that isn’t it? Maybe I’m physic or something; yeah let’s go with that one. Yet finding out who the winner had been wasn’t exactly my biggest priority. I still wanted someone in the darn group to tell me exactly what had been going on. I mean seriously I had gone through heck to figure out what in the world Super Smash Brothers was, how you played it, what the objective of it was, and all I got were mean comments, evil looks, and the ability to know that no matter how loud my voice may be I can be ignored if people really want to.
Finding my courage one last time, I walked up to a previously un-talked to groupie that I had seen watching the game with an intense look about him. If anyone would know what was going on I figured it just might be him. I walked over to him, “Hey ummm, I was just wondering if you could explain what the big deal is about this game. You guys seemed pretty into it and all and I have absolutely no idea about it.” He stared at me momentarily then with a big smile on his face gave me a reply that I had defiantly not been expecting. “Oh, don’t worry about it. It’s not that great at all.” Then he walked away to leave me there with my jaw hanging open. After all that I had been through for this one game, this was how the story was going to end.

The Republic: Chuck Norris Style

2009-07-13T18:12:00.002-05:00

Original by Plato:
http://classics.mit.edu/Plato/republic.html
It's about justice basically

Chuck Norris Style:

Socrates was asked, "what is justice?" Chuck Norris answered with a roundhouse kick.

The Road Not Taken: Chuck Norris Style

2009-07-13T16:12:00.003-05:00

Original by Robert Frost
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth.

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same.

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

Chuck Norris:

There were two roads,
I took both;
at the same time.

The Iliad: Chuck Norris Style

2009-07-13T16:07:00.004-05:00

Original by Homer:

http://classics.mit.edu/Homer/iliad.html

Chuck Norris Style:

Paris chose Aphrodite, he (kinda) stole Helen from Menelaus, war started between Greeks and Trojans. I tell Zeus to end it, he can't; I did.

Essay

2009-07-13T16:05:00.001-05:00

“Blech…that’s nasty…” I said. I said it a lot. Pictures of slimy tapeworms were on my computer screen. Smelly clams and octopi lay in a dissecting tray. All of this alongside three other girls…even worse or even better? Sometimes I couldn’t tell. Fourth period was a trip, but outside of class became even more of an unknown environment.

Science is a good subject, at least for me. My teacher, realizing some others and myself were ahead of the class, set us aside for an independent study. She said we could make it our “dream classroom”, doing projects none of the others could. The elite group was all girls, including me. The other three had always hung out before, but I didn’t hang with them that much. During our studies, we started off slow, barely getting any work done because no one was there to see. We’d sit and talk and make fun of each other until we got bored. Then we’d do a miniscule amount of research.

At first, the group was a partnership. Things ran pretty smoothly. My partner, Lauren, didn’t talk much. What little things she did say were usually insults, jokes, orders, or facts for projects. The insults and insulting jokes never really got to me: they were pretty funny, and I laughed at them too. Every science class, we’d head to the library. We’d sit at the same two computers. Every day.

Our first project was about worms. Both of us gagged continuously. The pictures, the life cycle, etc. were not the prettiest thing in the world. Thinking it was acceptable, I goofed off a lot, making jokes and giving Lauren looks that told her she could, and should, join in. She rarely complied, but she laughed a little before telling me to shut up and forcing me back to research. Our project media was to be a power point. In Lauren’s eyes, I’m guessing, it was to be informative (boring). In my eyes, it was to be both informative and entertaining (awesome). I struggled to make it funny, and she let me at least try, thank God. We had a picture of Dr. Oz and Oprah holding a tapeworm, against Lauren’s wishes.

When the assignment was finished, I went over well. We got a good grade and were ready for a new challenge. One of those challenges was new people. Two more girls were added: Ashley and Kylie. According to our teacher , they got in because “Ashley kept whining”. Our group was as full as it would get, any fuller and we’d be in trouble.

Our next topic for an assignment was mollusks and echinoderms (at first I was thinking the exact same thing you’re probably thinking now, “What…?”). We wanted to go deeper into the freedom of independent study, so we ventured into dissection and models. Ms. Houston, our teacher ,got us some clams and octopi to cut apart. The smell of fish was killing us all slowly. Out in an open part of the hallway, the stench wouldn’t go away. We occasionally had to go to the window and stick our heads out just to breathe. Being the vegetarian of the group, I was actually the one doing the most slicing and dicing (ironic much??).

Constant “ew”s and disgusted shivers came from Ashley. From Kylie, Nasty looks and “this is gross”s. From Lauren, the occasional grossed out “ugh” and weird looks. Some of these expressions were also uttered on my part, though I did tell the others to quit freaking out. The clam’s little foot stuck out of the shell, and I reached for the scalpel. I wiggled the knife in between the two sides and began to pull the clam apart, little by little, onlookers disgusted. We took pictures and moved on to the octopi the next day. Similar grossness accompanied these little things. Turns out, since they were purchased from a grocery store, they had nothing really in them. Waste of time. But Ashley still shivered, especially when I accidentally got the octopus on her hand. It was funny, but she freaked out. After we were done with the “dissection” we tried not to touch anything (the octopi were very slimy. Yuck.)

From the escapades with the clams and octopi, we learned…barely anything. To make up for that waste of time, we researched the anatomies. We continued to joke around all the time, but we knew we had to work. Our deadline wasn’t far ahead. Then came the Play Doh. Making the models was fun, especially when not actually making them. When Lauren and I tried to mix colors, automatic freak outs came from Ashley and Kylie. Not angry ones, they were still smiling, just concerned. They thought we would run out of Doh. I could care less. I needed a color, so I reassured them we would not run out of their precious clay.

Myself and Lauren then proceeded to get into an all out Play Doh war, right there in the back of the library. It had stated when we were playing Play Doh basketball, shooting a rolled up blob of the stuff into the container, held by the other person. All was fine until Lauren thought I was looking and threw it back to me. Guess what? I wasn’t looking. It hit me in the face. I was angry, really angry, but it was funny, and I knew it. From then on, science was work and war. Throw Play Doh here, make it look like the interior of an octopus there. I like to say I won, but I’m not sure. Often, I would throw over a bunch of the clay and would run to the other end of the library before Lauren could drill me again. I got both laughs and disapproving glances from Ashley and Kylie. I had fun though, no matter what they all thought.

Sometime into the beginning of this independent study, I thought it would be okay to sit with Lauren, Ashley, Kylie, and their friends at lunch. So I switched tables. It was kind of awkward at first: people don’t usually just hang out with another clique. I did need to ask them questions about the project though, and that was my excuse. There wasn’t much to say about the assignments, so the table usually fell back to talking about T.V. shows, shopping, and classes. These subject were common in every girl’s world, but no craziness was preferred. I was used to being my old wild self with my friends at lunch, but I held back a little here. I thought it was better that way, but I still didn’t like the feeling. They were nice people, and I wanted to hang out with them, so I kept sitting there. During recess, however, I was with my other friends.

In the library, still working with Play Doh, I learned something new. You will get slapped across the face if you cuss, or attempt to cuss, in front of Kylie. I decided to push the limits one day and said “F…..” with abit of an “uh“ to throw her off. I was hit and hurt before I could finish saying “fire truck”. Oopsie. I wasn’t going to try that again. I laughed it off, but still had it against her, though she never will believe that I was going to say fire truck and not otherwise.

At lunch, I would still sit with them. They were good friends, even though I had a little trouble being myself around them. I could contribute to most of the conversation topics, although sometimes I didn’t. I was comfortable being uncomfortable, in this case. After a while of me being their lunch guest, they had the nerve to ask me why I was sitting with them. They had noted “no offense” but some was taken. Shouldn’t they know why I was sitting there? I was their fiend right? Of course I was. I said, “Because I want to.” I didn’t really keep their question in mind, and continued to try to blend in with their clique so I could be accepted within my independent study group.

Nearing the end of the year, Our project was close to finished. We worked on the labels and got them into the Doh with toothpicks, still throwing it at each other, joking, and laughing. On the last day of school we presented it to Ms. Houston. I had done less work on them than the others, since I had been gone a few days, but we were all proud. The models looked great. Our teacher had questions about what we had learned (some of which we couldn’t very well answer), but she liked the models. We were all happy. We had approval and the last day of school. The rest of the day, I attempted to follow them around to different science classrooms. We got out of staying to minutes later than everyone else by leaving Ms. Houston’s room. Nice judgment on their part.

After school was over, we barely talked. Lauren, Ashley, and Kylie rarely texted back. I only saw Ashley once, because our dads know each other. I hadn’t seen Lauren that summer, but that was okay. She didn’t talk much anyway. As for Kylie, she was moving. I was invited to her going away party at a friend of ours, Caroline, but I couldn’t make it. Now, I was back to my regular friends. I could be myself more freely and I saw them more often. I have to ask now hwy I sat there that school year, but why I sat there so long.

Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening: Chuck Norris Style

2009-07-13T16:00:00.003-05:00

Original by Robert Frost:
Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

Chuck Norris:

I'm here in the woods, maybe trespassing
I don't care, he won't see me.
Superman in his pajamas with me on them would be cold,
I'm not. It's just 0 degrees out here. Nothing special.
My horse says to me "why are you stopping?"
(Yeah my horse can talk)
I tell it to shut up.
These are some nice woods.
I have a 1,000 miles to run in a few seconds before
what some call sleep, but Chuck Norris calls waiting

In a Station of the Metro: Chuck Norris Style

2009-07-13T15:52:00.002-05:00

Original:

The apparition of these faces in the crowd;
Petals on a wet, black bough.

Chuck Norris Style:

All these people aren't me;
how disappointing.

My Last Duchess: Chuck Norris

2009-07-13T15:49:00.003-05:00

You see my beautiful ex-wife there? She was too "nice" to other men. So I roundhouse kicked her in anger. You see that statue? Good, because I don't have one. Chuck Norris doesn't need a statue.

The Soup Can: An Experience in "New"/Immersion Journalism

2009-07-13T15:40:00.008-05:00

When asked to give a name to a small social group of friends, one of the members responded, “the soup can. The only types of social labels should be on soup cans.” This quote at the beginning of my social journey epitomized the immersion process. The social group had seemingly simple customs that were in fact quite complex.
One common factor was a yearning for a more just and “fair” world. Out of the group of six, three were vegetarians. All three said they abstained from meat because of the ethical treatment of animals. Hayden Flanery, the person with the longest duration of being a vegetarian, became a vegetarian almost two years ago after reading Fast Food Nation’s slaughterhouse depiction. All five had supported Barack Obama and had liberal political leanings. They were debating feminism versus sexual workers’ role in society at first but switched to international treatment of animals. They all seemed to value equality as the best of all ethical values after not questions, but experiences I witnessed.
This ethic was shown in their end of meal customs. Claire, the oldest and perhaps most dedicated to ideals, was wearing an Amnesty International “Citizen of the World” shirt and was speaking moderately amidst a roaring cafeteria. The group seemed to be the candle of social responsibility, eating no meat, treating all as equally as possible and conserving resources amid the darkness of apathy. She offered to carry everybody’s items on her tray.
“Why should I not carry everyone’s food items when I could do it in one trip?”
This is not the only egalitarian custom they shared. I asked a stranger to the group to test their reaction.
“May I join?” he asked. With no hesitation, they accepted the first year. They didn’t try to convert me or the other carnivore, but preached by example. They believed they played a role for the causes they believed, instead of being hypocritical, like what they believe many celebrities are. They also criticized hippies indirectly.
“How can you spread a message when you’re considered fringe?”
The games they played when they were all gathered and assembled were interesting as well. They were all committed to finding a game to play for all who wanted to join. There was no exclusion during my experiences. It was interesting to find a commune of people truly dedicated to the living of ideals in a world which to them seemed to be a façade of the values they embraced. The lonely Sarah playing Solitaire grew to Sarah and Claire playing War to Mao to ERS (Egyptian Rat Screw).
The formation of this group was two years ago, when most of the members were first-year first-years or second-second years. They had known each other previously but not as well as they did after VAMPY 2007. They became a regular group with a (nearly) identical ethic and a core group of five girls and one guy: Claire (the eldest and seemingly most caring about feminism), Hayden (most caring about animal rights), Emily (nonvegetarian), (Mari)Etta (vegetarian and sexual rights) and Carmen (also nonvegetarian); and Dane. They were all (except for Carmen) from Louisville, Kentucky and that gave them some initial starting ground for the bonding over the years.

The interactions at a social event were also of interest.
“Don’t become the alligator, don’t become the alligator, don’t become the alligator, don’t become the alligator,” said Hayden to me when I told her I was playing PNA for the first time. There was no dancing (in VAMPY, jumping and fist bumping) during the dance for the soup can. They mostly played cards (not Magic, which they detested, but respected). They played community games during the (literally) flashiest event of the year.
V-Con 2009 was a different matter. They were very active in participating at the ‘con. The soup can was basically one and travelled together to various activities. It seemed that they took opportunities of weekend events. The group first did Astronaut training and was the champions of the teamwork contest, which involved directing a blindfolded person to shoot at various targets. The team of Hayden and Emily received a perfect score on the test of collaboration. The other partners did well too. Travelling with them was an experience that would have seemed random with being in the group but was well-explained once the group was infiltrated. The amorphous continually expanding blob of people jostled from activity to activity, from Astronaut training to the RPG wars.
People flew as they hit each other with truncated pool noodles, as people clashed as those older did, but they did not die as their elders would. I got very into it as I ferociously attacked others, causing phony death and faux destruction, clashing with others just because they had a different color face paint than I did. They sat and walked away.
Not even in pretend would they sacrifice their ethics.
The somber look on their faces was enough to get me to see their point of view. No words were necessary to convey that thought.
It was then that I realized the magnificence of their activism. They, without words, could convince me to stop pretending to be a warrior in a fake battle. They could hold to their convictions for years and have the power to persuade people to change their lifestyle. People on the outside ignored them because they weren’t popular, so they became advocates of equality and friendliness.
The ethics they have shown to be livable pervaded me after my time with them. Grabbing bacon or other meat items in food lines inspired me to think about consequences. These weren’t typical teenagers, these were peer role models, rational and knights for ideals they themselves embodied.
They were also solid. With the passing fads at VAMPY from the Rubik’s Cube to the Monocle Game to Duct Tape items, they were always there, ready to inspire and live by what they preach, refreshing in a world driven by trends.
I was walking with members of the Soup Can from breakfast at Downing University Center (DUC) to Cherry Hall, where some of them, in their quest for social fairness, are taking Nazi Germany and the Holocaust. Etta was joyful for another day of depressing class. She and Carmen were both fascinated with the mob psychology of the Holocaust.
“How could people in Germany allow this to happen?” I asked.
“Desperation, looking for an excuse.”
I had never seen anything like it before. Passing through noisy, tumultuous DUC’s Fresh Food Company cafeteria I would see them prima facie and would dismiss them as young semi hippies. They seemed like “posers” who would talk the talk of human rights and animal rights and but wouldn’t care to follow through with their beliefs.
What I never would believe though is that they actually could change people by simply being present. Their very existence, without persuading words, could change lifestyles and people’s minds, as a beacon for justice and equality in the dark sea they believe is humanity.

Six Word Short Stories: Fiction at the Top Speed

2009-07-13T15:40:00.007-05:00

It was supposed to work underwater.

☼

Wedding dress? You mean home-made dish towels.

☼

You don't want to go there.

☼

I'll gladly give permission, but ...

☼

No -- wait -- seriously? I'm in charge?

☼

Chickens don't care who came first.

☼

Warning: read this, you're in danger.

☼

A treeline's start. A treeline's end.

☼

Cameron, that door is -- okay, then.

☼

Wait, did you lock that cage?

☼

You've got a fever. More cowbell!

☼

All's fair in shoes and war.

☼

4get u, n00b. Pwnd u! FTW!

☼

Invisible sandwich. Growling stomach. Visible canines.

☼

I can't remember if I remember.

☼

Locked door. Unlocked door. Thieving elves.

☼

No, I don't swallow glass anymore.

☼

Got a hot TV for you.

Installment 3 of Dreamcatcher

2009-07-13T15:32:00.003-05:00

Dear Diary,

My life may be good but darned if isn't boring. It is the same thing everyday, I get up, eat, do shores, eat, hang out/work, eat, sleep. Everyday that is what I do.

Now don't get me wrong. I have a great life. I just don't think that I would choose it for myself.

Today though, something strange did happen. My parents and I were looking around the Flea Market and I was approached by a boy of about 15. He was a little odd looking because he had pure white hair, and the lightest shade imaginable of green/blue. Even stranger was the fact I seemed to be the only one who noticed his appearance.

Anyways, he approached me and asked, "You wouldn't have happened to see a dragon recently have you?"

"No," I replied a little nervous.

"Well have you seen my sister then? We are twins."

Again I said no and he bit his lip, suddenly looking much younger. Then the 15 year old was back. He smiled sadly, "Thank you anyway." Then he walked away.

I hope he found his sister.

More later,

Sara

Profile 1

2009-07-13T15:11:00.002-05:00

Jacob Walshen is 19 years old. He is Very oprganized.

When Jacob wakes up he ususally forgets to brush his teeth so he has to chew some gum on the way to work/school. He is a photographer ao he always carries his camera with him.

His girlfriend Cindy broke up with him not long ago but she left an earring with Jacob. He also wants to break a world record to make the worlds largest rubber band ball.

He tends to stay on his own alot but he does like the occasional night out with his friends. He lives in Chicago, Illinois in a small appartment.

Jacob is a neat freak. His father's name was Jonathan and his mother was Marie. They are divorced. Jacob lived with his father.

Jacob went on a mission trip to Japan with his father and can speak Japanese. He is an Episcopalian. He loves to travel. He also enjoys reading classics and his favorites are The Grapes of Wrath and Uncle Tom's Cabin.

Writing, writing everywhere, and not a drop to drink ...

2009-07-13T14:59:00.003-05:00

... that is, at least, no water bottles in the computer lab, where we've spent much of this glorious Monday writing and re-writing and writing again. We began this morning with an exercise that came to The Boulder as she was feeding her cat(s) this morning. After the class failed to recognize the daily quote ("We cannot allow a mine shaft gap!"), The Boulder led the class in a discussion of the difference between written language and spoken language -- the vernacular. We entered into a healthy discussion of language sub-groups, from the Southern idiom to 1337 H4X0R speak to sports speak. Perhaps the most interesting part was our discussion of these things --

-- which the class referred to variously as soda, soda pop, pop, a soft drink, and a Coke (incidentally, The Boulder votes for the term "Coke." Even if it's a Sprite, it's a Coke). This led to a discussion of OuLiPo, a French poetry school/movement/lifestyle/thing of general wonder and amazement. We discussed one of my personal favorite OuLiPo constraints: the transliteration, in which the writer takes a text from one language system -- for instance, Shakespearean English -- and translates it to another language system -- for instance, the language of British street punks, as in the famed and amazing OuLiPian transliteration of Hamlet by Richard Curtis. The class chose a language system and then worked to translate the aforementioned Robert Browning's "My Last Duchess" into that language system. The class discovered that the poem is, well, pretty darn dark in any language system.

Once we'd worked to immerse ourselves in another language system, we began our discussion of Tom Wolfe's work and of immersion journalism. I revealed the reason why the students were to join another social group over the weekend: they are to write a New Journalism-style, Tom Wolfe-esque essay, in the language of that social group, about that social group -- which is, in fact, what they're doing now, typing steadily away at their computers in the Cherry Hall lab,

Post-Script

Schmoeku

Hilltop spirit, why
the angered eyebrows? Jell-O
wriggling in noon sun.

Transliteration

2009-07-13T14:56:00.001-05:00

. The Duke
My last wifes still
hngin' here. She loks
so yng. F.P. pntd her.
Evry1 ?s me why shes so
:-). I tell em' evry1
made her :-). I got
jellus. She shld have
only <3 me. I had to
stp her. Now she hngs,
:-) as alwys. Will
u pls tell ur mstr
2 hry with the weding
plns?

. The Messenger is offline

All Aboard the J Weezy Social Expedition!!!

2009-07-13T14:52:00.005-05:00

Summoning sickness, tap, un-tap, swinging, flying, haste, artifact, mana, land, creature, sorcery, enchantment, instant, mana-screwed, mulligan, target spells, white deck, blue deck, black deck, red deck, green deck.
I didn’t understand any of this stuff the first day, I started my social expedition. I was venturing out to other social groups/ cliques. Trying to see what was different between other sub-cultures and social groups.
It was just a bunch of non-sense to me that didn’t make sense. But it made sense to them. So I sat down and watched and tried to learn. When I finally got up the courage to ask one of the kids that I knew to teach me, he said “He would be delighted to!” We sat down as he taught me how to play Magic. It wasn’t that bad at all it was actually pretty interesting and fun.
I had made new friends today or I at least tried. Some of them were even nice enough to teach me. Who were these new friends you ask? Well they were magic nerds. Yep I learned how to play magic and I even bought myself a deck. It’s not really that bad, unless you’re playing with magicholics, because they can become a little bit too serious, intense, crazy, hyped-up, angry, just a whole bunch of different, scary emotions.
The Magic nerds, they aren’t really that bad once you get to know them it’s just that they are somewhat socially awkward or self-conscious. I guess I shouldn’t say that, it’s that some people are not socially awkward/self-conscious, some are somewhat, and others are just completely self-conscious/socially awkward. Most people just think they’re socially awkward because they act weird or they dress weird but if you really get to know them some aren’t, even though most of them are.
Hanging with the Magic nerds, have made me feel sorry for all the kids who sit by themselves at breakfast, lunch, dinner. I’m making a statement and a purpose to try my hardest to become friends with some of them. I’m already edging my way towards two friendships. One with Max Frodge and the other with Dylan Carr but someone (they know who they are) is trying to make that really hard. We actually have some things in common, Dylan is a first year/first year and I’m a first year/first year. Dylan is part Puerto Rican and I’m part Puerto Rican. With Max he dislikes Alex Petros (A.P.) and I sometimes dislike A.P. but that’s just for fun. But I think Max actually has a strong hatred for Alex Petros. It’s actually quite funny how much Max hates Alex, A.P. tells us about it all the time.
Also my roommate and one of my best friends at the camp, Taylor, is starting to become a Magic enthusiast. It seems like he’s becoming addicted to it. We’ll be playing a card game like P and A or Rich Man Poor Man. Then if a couple kids start playing Magic, after the game ends we’ll ask him if he’s playing again and he says no and tries to get into the Magic game. Now it’s going to be even worse now, now that he has his own deck. But oh well, hopefully it will just be a stage or phase. Also Suzanne got a Magic Deck but Austin McMasters bought it for her.
Magic is really starting to become a craze now it’s like the new fad. But what can you expect it’s a nerd camp. I would have to say at the least half of the camp has at least battled once in a game of Magic. Me, myself has battled at least two times and I now have my own deck and so does Taylor so we’re going to be battling all the time and our room.
At V-Con 2009 there were a couple of different things going on with Magic, there was a draft and tournament and there was just a room to play Magic. I know Macauley was in the draft and tournament room. I watched Taylor and his “girlfriend” battle Nick in the just for fun playing Magic room. I believe Nick won that game, no-figure.
Jaquil, Jordan, Joe’docei, LaJuan, and Isaiah, I think they basically just walked around the whole time. They were mostly just floaters, they most definitely weren’t in any Magic rooms except I think Jaquil might have came in one just to shoot some random kid with the Nerf Gun he had with him.
The Magic people can be quite rude sometimes. There always like,
“Go away”
“You don’t even like Magic”
“Can’t you see I’m trying to do something here?”
“What do you even know about Magic?”
They can be quite harsh sometimes. I’m just trying to make friends with them and they’re just trying to blow me off at the same time. I don’t know but for some reason whenever someone who doesn’t normally hang with them or doesn’t play Magic try to talk to them. They start to get all defensive; I’m just like I’m not here to make fun of you I just want to watch because it’s somewhat interesting. But they’re just like, “Mhm, sure whatever just buzz off,” or something mean/rude like that, that makes me feel like a bad person even though my intentions were good.
Once you learn to play Magic you start to get upset with those people who don’t understand how to play Magic and know nothing about it and they try to make fun of it and laugh at people who play it, I used to be one of those people. Like one of my friends he tried to stop Taylor from buying a Magic deck, by taking his back-pack and wouldn’t let him get his wallet or get up the stairs to the book-store to buy a deck. He just kept saying all these unruly, not nice at all things and I was just like wow this guy can act like such a “jerk” sometimes.
I think that the people who play Magic wouldn’t get made fun of so much if they were more interactive. Most of them I know don’t really dance at the dances we have, they’re either sitting by themselves thinking of who know's what or playing magic somewhere, it would be so much better if they had a social life. That’s what I and my friends try to do with Max but he just wouldn’t give in. We tried to get him to dance, we even started dancing around him but that looked a little awkward and he still wouldn’t dance so we just left him alone, and let bygones be bygones.
But overall, I think the social expedition was pretty successful. I got to learn how to play Magic and even bought myself a deck so I can kick butt. I made some new friends and the Magic people got to make an awesome new friend who goes by the name of J Weezy. I think everyone got a lot out of this assignment and I think it’s a shame that we had to have an assignment to make us branch out to other social groups/cliques. We got a chance to hang out with people that we usually wouldn’t hang out, and we ended up having a great time or well at least I did.

Profile 2

2009-07-13T14:50:00.003-05:00

My name is Forest. I am 13 years old. I have light brown hair, brown eyes and tan skin. My parents names are Cairy and Jake. I live in Louisville, KY and go to Verity Middle School. I don't have very many friends and don't much like sports, don't tell anyone else that though or your next in the trash.

I get most of my stuff from Walmart and Sears. DAd works as an operations manager for Allied Republic Waste. Mom teaches Horse back riding.

Lately they have been fighting alot hough and I have withdrawn more at school, beating kids harder and saying worse things. My grades are still fair but they have started to fall.

I don't really have a religion. I guess I just haven't been exposed enough yet to know what I am.

Dramatic Monologue

2009-07-13T14:37:00.000-05:00

Kid I'm sorry for that time,
I chucked you in the trash,
Cause I play sports
And hang out with the jocks
You really don't like me do you?
I guess I can't blame you.

But you expect me
To act like this.
Well no, I guess I
Shouldn't make excuses.

Ya know,
Football is stubid. Yeah,
I just said what
I thought about it.

Things like video games, now they
Can me zone out completely,
So I don't have to listen to
My dumb parents who are
Constantly fighting
and arghuing with each other
And with me and my brother.

I try really hard
To make them proud
But they go on and on
Acting like I'm not even there.

Did you really think that
I was really all that bad? I can be
good, It's just that I hide it,
And take my anger out on you.

Essay

2009-07-13T14:36:00.002-05:00

Long, mile and a half walks, baseball games and people acting like hillbillies, the perfect recipe for wanting to pound your head on a brick wall. For a long time now I had been dreading this opportunity.

At the beginning of Vampy we had been informed that on Friday, the second week we would be staying here, we would have to go on a mandatory mile and a half walk to watch a baseball game between the Hot Rods and the Charleston River Dogs.

As we started out in our not so tight groups the different counselors began to allow their campers to mingle. I fell in beside two people that were behaving more than a little strangely. One girl was talking animatedly in a “hillbilly” voice while the other listened attentively.

“Now ya see freend, us heelbeely nerds gots ta stick together.” Her companion was barely containing laughter.

She replied in the same voice, “Heelbeely nerds? Tain’t that one o them oxyprobleems?”

“Nah freend, I thank ya mean oxymo-ron.”

Now her friends gives a mock angry glare. “Yous calling me a mo-ron?”

Now they turned to me as I was staring at them interestedly. “Whach you lookin’ at?”

To this I replied, “Just wondering why you’re talking like that.”

They said in unison, while shaking their heads, “City folk.”

I hated being called a city girl. City girls are the ones that have manicured nails, have never ridden a horse in their life, and would rather have a tiny little Pekinese or Shi-Tzu instead of a great dane or lab. I was not city folk. “I’ll have you know that I live on a sixty two acre farm with pigs, chickens, dogs, cats and horses.”

They smiled then and one of them said, “Weel yous a heelbeely too!”

I declined their offer to talk like they were, I didn’t feel like acting like a “mo-ron” tonight. Then the rain started to fall. We had reached the stadium and people were getting under the awning as fast as they could. We waited there until the pounding rain had been reduced to a slight drizzle.

When we finally exited the awning we spread towels and blankets on bare grass right next to the field. The two hillbillies and I were then joined by an Indian girl. She seemed less interested in acting like a hillbilly and more interested in staring at the stars and pretending to talk to invisible people. I though t that it looked quite fun.

“Well, you know that I know your little secret Bambi,” she whispered to the sky. “Oh yes I do. Shall I tell her? Shall I tell her you killed her mother?”

This was a little more frightening than the hillbillies but it was also more amusing. “Juniper, Bambi, Lil, Nay, Gena and Pete and or Fred whichever is here at the moment, oh Pete? Okay, hi Pete. This is Madi. Say hi! Now!” She said by way of introduction.

We had many conversations, especially with Pete (he loved to argue) that is, until he left and Fred came. Fred was much quieter than Pete. Then we talked to Juniper. A few people stared at us and laughed or else looked worried for our mental health.

I eventually left the three as they were becoming increasingly strange. I walked up to Erin, a girl who was in my class. I didn’t know her very well so I decided to talk to her. An Asian girl was sitting with her.

“Hey, what’s up?” This was me.

“Sitting here…”

“I see.”

We introduced each other and talked for a while. We watched as the sun slowly sank beneath the Earth and the two baseball teams tried in vain to break their tie.

A few amall children played on the other side of the fence, where the seats were. One little boy came up to the rail and said, “Hi.”

Erin apparently being great with little kids was quick to respond, “Hi, how are you?”

“Good”

“My name is Erin, what’s yours?”

“----.”

“That’s a cool name.”

The little boy laughed. He had immediately taken to Erin. He talked to her for a little while and then left. He came back shortly after. “Charlottè!” Erin called to her roommate. “Check out my new buddy, his name is ----.”

Charlottè, the Asian girl, ---- and I all laughed. The other kids in my class had only recently begun to see Erin become this animated.

Erin’s friend was acting like a cat now. It seemed as though this scared ---- a little. Two more little kids came to the fence, I’m guessing they were ---‘s brother and sister, one was a year old, maybe less, and carrying an Elmo doll. The other was a little girl with blond hair. They also seemed to like Erin.

Finally it was time for fireworks. It was after ten and the baseball game had ended Hotrods 5 and Riverdogs 4. ----had decided to join us for the show.

SHOOM! BAM! TCHTHCHTCH! Blue, red, green, gold, burple, and many other colors zoomed out of the back of a pickup truck, creating beautiful clouds of sparks in the air. It was over far too soon. ‘

Erin and I said goodbye to each other, her friend meowed farewell at me also. Emily, I had to find Emily. My counselor was tall and easy to see in the mass of people scrambling to leave. I reached her and we waited for the last of our group, Megan. She finally arrived and we began to make our way back to Wester’s campus.

I walked beside Megan and I asked her, “So, what did you think of the base ball game?”

She replied, “Not bad, I’m more into dancing though.”

“Hmm, so what class…”

“Theater.”

“…Sorry, I keep forgetting.”

“It’s okay. You?”

“Writing.”

After that we spun off into debates about the war in Iraq, politics, and religions. She will make a very gifted public speaker. She got her points across very well without making me feel threatened, like she was trying to turn me to her side of things.

I never really pay much attention to the people in my dorm but I decided that maybe I could be good friends with them if I tried. Megan wasn’t all that bad and my roommate was nice so why couldn’t the rest be.

Making friends wasn’t actually all that hard for me, once I decided to try it. After all, the rest of the people here have tons of friends. Now that I think about it though that could be bad. Maybe they don’t want any more friends?

I have already made too many friends though, I will never talk to most of them again so why even make them in the first place?

And now back my own ragtag group of random people that sat at our table one day. Back to normal. Oh no.

Transliteration of My Last Duchess

2009-07-13T14:00:00.001-05:00

On my wall there's a painting of my last duchss. It loks lik shes alive. She was nice 2 evry1, nt jst me, hr hsbnd. Ppl lovd hr. I gt tird of hr being nice 2 evry1 else, so I gve the ordrs to hav hr kild. I hav gd money for ur mastrs daughtr.

"My Ex" --A transliterated version of "My Last Duchess"

2009-07-13T13:43:00.001-05:00

Fyi, thas a pic of my ex
She wuz a hottie LOL
It's a gr8 pic, right?
Th dude who painted it wuz a beast
U wanna kno why she looks :) ?
Well u c, she <3'd evry1
Ik, she wuz a straight up skank.
And I wuz like, wtf?
She was only sposed 2 say luv ya 2 me
But she :)'d @ evry1.
Ik, fml, right?
Idk y she would like us =
Im filty rich! Haha
I evn heard her drop a ily bomb
2 th garbage dude.
So, jus btween u an me,
1 day she wuz all :)'s
And th next she wuz no :)'s
...if u kno wat i mean.
**wink wink.**
So we say TTYL 2 th slut!
LMAO...fo real.
So, i need a gf
ur lil girl up 4 it?
So yea, thx.
LOL.

Newspaper, duct tape, pipe cleaners, and more!

2009-07-13T13:43:00.000-05:00

Last week ended with a flurry of activity as the class concentrated on way to develop and reveal characters through dialogue, description, and interaction. On Wednesday, we turned our six word short stories into flash fiction, or short-short stories -- but, of course, there was a twist! We traded notebooks and wrote flash fiction which incorporated one of our partner's six word short stories. The results of this endeavor were impressive, and can be found posted on the blog.

Next, it was time for musical chairs. As the clock tower chimed out that Burt Bacharach classic, "Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head," the students circled around the circle of desks, finally stopping with the last drop of the song at one of their classmates' desks. On the desks, the students had placed six random objects, found in their dorm or elsewhere. The students were then faced with a challenge: creating a character based on the combination of objects. From a world-traveler who carried her rhinoceros in her neon green blimp to a janitor facing hard times at home to an over-achieving student struggling to survive athletically and academically, the students created strong "round" characters -- and then teamed up with another character they found interesting, all in the interest of playwriting.

Our class on Thursday harkened back to that great and secret VAMPY tradition: paper theater. The students gathered back into their character teams and wrote 10 to 15 minute one act plays featuring their two characters. However, we here at VAMPY are overachievers, and this instance was no exception; not only did the students play the role of writer, but they also served as actors, directors, costume designers, and set designers. With a stack of newspapers and a sack full of colored duct tape, the students created costumes and sets. The day ended in a series of performances which were hilarious, touching, and, well, hilarious.

Friday morning saw us once again exploring the idea of character and the craft of dialogue, this time in what can often be a very difficult form: the dramatic monologue. We read three poems by the master of the monologue, Robert Browning, who was inspired by the dramatic soliloquy and would later inspire our own monologues. Then, each student received a photograph of a person who, by all appearances, fit into a certain social stereotype: emos, jocks, nerds, skaters, goths, and so on and so forth. The students wrote what they knew about the person just from the photograph -- and then, of course, the great challenge of the day. Each student had to write a dramatic monologue with the person in their photograph as a speaker -- but, in the course of the poem, the speaker had to reveal a secret that showed they were not at all what one might assume.

After the arduous task of monologue crafting, we spent the afternoon with The Plastics, watching Mean Girls, one of Ms. Bolden's all-time favorite movies. Mean Girls served not only as a reward for everyone's very hard work, but also as the basis for the weekend assignment: each student was required to "infiltrate" a different social group, joining up with people they don't typically hang around with and learning about their culture, customs, and language.

Post-Script: Haiku

So You Think You Can
Dance? The Boulder weeps, knowing,
cableless, she can't.

♠

Really, The Boulder
could never dance anyway.
No rhythm? Disco arm!

♠

Or jumping, pumping
one fist in the air -- official
dance of VAMPY.

2009-07-13T13:33:00.000-05:00

Hello there it’s been almost a year
You knew I was at Harvard
I graduated this summer
I only had a 3.75 GPA, I wanted a 4.0
I majored in math with a minor in computer science
That was my worst class by far I had like 3 B’s in that class
I had 1 B in math, it was a B+
It’s terrible I know
The college life got to me; I started staying up until, like, 8:45
I was bad at Harvard
Last year I could always tell you anything
You never told any of my secrets, well I’ve got a big one to tell you
While I was at Harvard there was this guy and he was a bit wild
One night he got drunk and came to my house beside campus
My door was unlocked so he came right in
Hr started calling me names, told me I’m worthless
Then he hit me in the mouth
I tried to talk to him but that just made it worse, he kept hitting me over and over
Then he pulled a gun I tried to talk to him but it didn’t work
I quickly got my gun out of the nightstand
He cocked his gun so I killed him
I didn’t know what else to do! I was scared, and alone.

Band Geek---Dramatic Monologue

2009-07-13T13:32:00.000-05:00

I am their only child-
Their poster son, the shining star
Every red "A" scratched across my schoolwork
Every perfect note that escapes my saxophone
My band solo, my 4.0-
all for their approval.
But the pressure to uphold this reputation,
No one seems to realize
That even a bright Ferrari will rust.
Sometimes I wish I could be you,
Little robin.
At any moment, you could
Leap from that stiff oak limb
And cut through the air,
Gliding on your freedom.
But I can not.
This truth weighs down my heavy body
I can't escape from this routine.
Every morning I wake up another day older
And live one more photocopied day.
The edges blur together in this cycle
Of stretching for perfection-
The light at the end of the tunnel-
But knowing that it is untouchable.
Look at me, little robin
I'm suffocating under this pressure,
Trapped in this routine life.
And I've been reduced to this anger,
This concentrated ball of hate
Pitted in my stomach.
Look at me, little robin
Look at these empty eyes
Look at these scars that etch their
"Poster Child".
I want to stop-
But these jagged scars are my only release
My only way to control my own life.
Look at me, little robin.
Look at me.

My Last Duchess-Music Vernacular

2009-07-13T13:30:00.000-05:00

That's my last Duchess, composed on the wall
As if she were still playing, I sing
That musical piece, a wonder now
Fra Pandolf worked on her each day
They would ask, what song put that
look on her visage?
Her genre was that of a sing along
Whatever had an upbeat rhythm would
make her heart beat faster.
She tired of that old note, that had
been around for ages, a classic.
She longed for something fresh, a new hip hop beat.
The way you sing is much more graceful,
for I have no grace in my voice.
She would edit and revise me.
I was not yet good enough to be played for other ears.
Sure the symphony made her hum, but could not make her dance.
I ejected that acoustic song, all her dancing stopped.
Now let's go down, it's time for a new tune.
See how I can control the radio?

Situations In Which a Lightsaber Would Be an Inappropriate Cutting Devise

2009-07-13T13:29:00.000-05:00

1)to slice a wedding cake
2)to hem clothes
3)to row a boat
4)to cut your hair
5)to trim your fingernails
6)to cut out a paper snowflake
7)as a cane
8)as a can opener
9)to spread butter on toast
10)as a prosthetic limb
11)to conduct an orchestra
12)to write on the chalkboard

Transliteration of My Last Duchess

2009-07-13T13:28:00.000-05:00

Myspace Mood Updates

Showing off the picture of my dead wife that Fra Pandolf created!

Mood:Ecstatic

Why did she have to be so frustrating? I should have been good enough for her!

Mood: Angry

All those stupid freaks did was give her small gifts! I gave her everything that made her who she was.

Mood: Murderous

Hoping to married again soon!

Mood: Hopeful

Making wedding plans for my wife to be. Hope she doesn't wind up dead to

Mood: Happy

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Omg like this one time I had a wife, that's her picture on the wall, and she like died. She was like really pretty and stuff. She was always like Omg happy.. So i was like STFU!She was like...such a gold digger! I mean somebody go call Kayne seriously. Watev. I got sick of all of her like chippy chippy so I act like chippy chipper so I like got rid of her and stuff. So not I'm ganna like marry your masters daughter.

Awesome Popsicle Flavors That Should Exist

2009-07-13T13:26:00.000-05:00

1)Goldfish
2)cheese
3)cotton
4)trapezoid
5)Espresso
6)Salsa
7)Black bean
8)Butter
9)Magenta
10)Ramen
11)Sunshine

Things That Might Be In Cameron's Bag

2009-07-13T13:24:00.000-05:00

1)A dead dog
2)Holographic stickers
3)Duct tape pants
4)hundreds of candy wrappers
5)a wrinkled t-shirt
6)a shoestring
7)a small child

Get off the stage!

2009-07-13T13:21:00.000-05:00

I'm tired of all this acting.
Wearing my hat backwards, getting shirts
that are too big for me, wearing jeans that sag all the way down to my knees. Talking like I never went to school.
You and I both know it's fun to be on stage, rappin' your heart out. Hearing all those people screaming for you. Getting anything you want. Feeling like nothing could go wrong.
But that isn't me. I'm 23 years old. I have a kid I love and a girl that's going to end up a single mother if I keep doing this. I need to get a real job.
Did you know I'm a good painter?
If I lived at home, I'd build a studio, filled with canvases and paint. I love to paint flowers, there's so many colors, and so many details that you can capture with just your hand and a brush.

But lets go, we're on in 20 seconds.

Dramatic Monologue~~~Forgive Me

2009-07-13T13:18:00.003-05:00

I'm so sorry
I don't know what to do
What to say...
It all seems like a dream
I keep expecting to wake up...
For him to be alive
I don't know how your making it through this
i want to throw myself in the casket
Right beside him
I wish it had been me
It should have been me!
This isn't right!
I lied to the cops
I was with him that night
Not sleeping at home
I watched him drink
I knew it wasn't safe
But I still gave him his keys
Then you called the next morning
And I knew something was wrong
You said he'd crashed into a tree
He was dead, he was gone
And it's all my fault!
Now I have to hurt you
Even more
You were like my second mother
I'm so sorry
I killed your son

6 word short stories

2009-07-13T13:18:00.002-05:00

Runs toward base, trips! Career ends

Ball hit bat, it soars, home run!

Anyone here need a pink couch?

If u want food….tough luck

Dude, don’t ever do that again

Wow! That was so incredibly amazing

Six Word Short Stories

2009-07-13T13:18:00.001-05:00

Well, what would Harry Chalmers do?

Black dresses, pine box: No words.

Cliche movie: wariness, happiness, breakup, makeup.

The untouched sign read "Wanted: Babysitter"

"Stop! Don't jump!" Screams. Then silence.

A total eclipse of the heart. :P

Unstoppable, then crashed. Candy wrappers everywhere.

Humpty Dumpty had a great fall.

"Whatever, just don't touch it." CRASH

The icicle snaps: perfect murder weapon.

Where did we park the car?

"Look out for the bus!!" "...What?"

Oh my god, what is that?

Whatever you do, don't turn around.

He came, he saw, he conquered.

Grape soda. White shirt. Enough said.

Long hair, meet toddler with scissors.

"Don't even think about it." "...but..."

Once upon a time,
The End.

Dramatic Monologue Of: Sean

2009-07-13T13:13:00.000-05:00

Being best friends
with Andy is great.
He's a cool guy.
His values on the other hand
are a little messed up.
His parents don't care much
so he always parties.
He usually does this
instead of trying to raise
his C average.
He hangs around certain people:
the ones who drink
and get drunk at parties
and end up regretting
that night's decisions.
As far as I know,
he's not involved
with alcohol.
He's vulnerable to it though,
and that's what worries me.
As for him and girls,
wow. Him and girls.
I'm surprised he can find
a different girl every week
that hasn't dated him
at least once before.
He treats women
With so little respect
It's almost unnerving.
He goes through them so
fast. That's what I
really don;t like about him:
he lacks respect.
His parents and teachers
have never heard
"please" or "thank you" from him.
He doesn't know how
to treat people right
And I hate it.
But don't tell him that.
What he really doesn't want
you to know, however
is a bigger secret.
He pulls of this facade
of a tough player
But do tough players
read romantic novels?
Cry at romantic movies?
No. But he does.
He's actually a big sap
for soaps.
That's the only reason
I'm still friends with the guy;
he actually has a human side.
A somewhat creepy
human side, but oh well.
Otherwise, I would never
be caught hanging out
with the freak. But I
have his secret.
His lovey-dovey fall-hard
romantic secret.
He thinks if he crosses me,
I'll tell everyone
and ruin the only
untarnished thing in his life:
his reputation.
I wouldn't tell.
Or would I?
After all, I do hate his
disrespectful side.
I'll wait and see
how far he goes
when he does cross me,
Then I'll decide whether
to reveal the reason
Why I hang out with this
Semi-human.
I don't know...
maybe I won't.
You don't seem at all
bothered by his secret.
So what if I told you
it was mine?
For Andy, his facade
is no fake thing.
It's just him, though
I still hate his lack of
respect. But I
am the one with the secret.
I'm no player, of course.
That's just wrong.
But I'm the fall-hard
romantic here.
Yes, I've seen the "Notebook"
and read the "Notebook".
I've read all of the "Twilight"
series, the first book twice,
and for the love, not the vampires.
I watch soap operas
like "General Hospital",
and before, I wasn't proud.
That's why I said this
was Andy's problem.
To see your reaction,
to judge whether I could
tell you
what little rumor I've
been hiding.
Really though, those movies
get to me, man.
Whenever they can't be
together, I just break down.
It's hard not to.
It's just so sad.
Two people deserve to be
with each other, and they just
can't.
I cry every time.
No one should know this.
I shouldn't be telling you.
Only Andy knows, and he
just holds back laughter.
I needed to tell somebody else.
I know it's not
that big of a deal.
I don't wax my eyebrows
and get manicures
like other guys.
People would just never
look at me the same.
Sure, I'm proud.
I love all that
lovey-dovey stuff
With every part of my being.
But I'm not that proud.
Truth is, I'm in love.
With Andy.
You don't have to hide
your surprise.
I understand.
I can't help it though,
even though I hate his disrespect.
Love is putting up with the
bad things about the other person.
And that's what I've been doing.
He doesn't know, of course!
I would never tell him soon.
I'm guessing he has his suspicions
but he never states them.
It's so hard,
unrequited love
So hard to go on.
I will survive!
Like Rachael McAdams,
she could not tell
the man she loved
that she loved him
because she was with someone else.
Unlike her, I'm not with anyone else
unless fear and shame
are people.
Dude, just don't tell anyone.
I WILL murder you.
Or I could hire somebody.
Remember the possibilities.
I trust you though.
Maybe.
Just please don't even HINT
anything whatsoever.
Remember, I will beat you.
My love for Andy
is no gossip subject.
Plus, I don't want you to
tell him first.
I leave this conversation
as a man.
And I'll tell him
I love him myself.

Lies of a Hippie

2009-07-13T13:12:00.000-05:00

You want to know about my life?
Yea, me and you are the same on the outside.
Colors of the rainbow, the symbol of peace all over our bodies.
We both need a haircut too. But trust me, good sir of the next door van,
we are completely different.

My brother was my only teacher.
He taught me the lessons of our life.
We didn't need parents, but all girls need a mom.
He said we don't need to follow rules, that we could do whatever we want.
But we ran away from a lot of things.
Save the animals, eat a salad, but that dog tasted pretty good.
He taught me in cars filled with smoke, but I could hold me breath.

Life seems great, but when do I get to have one?
When do I get my chance for money, and education, a home, or parents?

Now is my time. My brother can't hold me back,
because just like that dog, humans taste good too.

Territory with Which You Are Not Familiar

2009-07-13T11:55:00.001-05:00

Three social groups, all different but all the same: Magic enthusiasts, the Negro gang, and the writing fanatics.
Beware of the land with manas, creatures, and enchantments. The game of Magic the Gathering is not an easy one. It takes skill, and intense concentration. The players take this battle very seriously. To them it’s not just a card game. With each win comes great pride.
There are so many cards, and so many terms. The players have their own language. Tapping, flying, devouring, resurrecting, swinging, summoning. These words have a whole new meaning for these kids. Each word brings a smile to one player and a frown to another. Their conversations consist of bragging, and boasting. They talk about how good their cards are, and how well they are going to do.
The players have no patience for non-Magic players though. When watching them play, they treated me like I wasn’t there, or wished I wasn’t there or maybe both at the same time. They don’t have the patience for people who just come to make fun of them. When trying to watch and learn, a kid turned to me and said, “Could you move back please?” Of course I did so, but I felt rejected. I tried to play but it ended up as someone just telling me what to do. There are so many rules and restrictions. “You can’t play this card until you play that card; you can’t play this one without that one, etc.”
The players aren’t judged by their looks, or how much money they have, but by the strength of their deck. In a Magic tournament, they create a draft deck. They don’t know how to keep a poker face, because with every new card they get, a smile is conveyed across their face or a noise of joy is uttered. They are thinking of their future victories.
People of all ages play this game. There are the younger ones, who are typically the newer players. The older ones are the ones that get looked up too. The younger ones will usually ask them what card to choose, what something is, or what to do when a certain situation happens.
Like what soccer does for me, Magic helps these kids get away from drama, and let them do something that they really enjoy.

When you first see them, they seem scary and mysterious, but really, there is a lot more to them. The Negro gang that I started hanging out with is a lot different than most people.
They have very strong opinions. One of them is the “bros before hoes” saying. Their guy friends are the most important relationship they have aside from their family. They know that most of their friends will be there for them whenever they need them, unlike their girlfriends that they might have for a month or so.
They also strongly believe in what’s your business is your own business, and what’s their business is their own. If they are told a secret, they’ll keep it forever. To get one of their secrets, you have to gain their trust first. They won’t risk telling anyone anything unless they know it’s not going to be told to anyone else.
They are very straight forward with people, and won’t lie to you at all. They tolerate most people, but if they don’t like you, you’ll know pretty quickly. All in all, trust and truth is very important to this group.
This group also is very stereotypical. Maybe it’s because they are judged a lot too, just because of their color. The first time I made friends with one of the people from this group, I accidentally called him the N-word. He did get very upset with me, and helped me understand why they don’t like it. I don’t say that word anymore because of that day.
This group likes to laugh and smile a lot. They are all around a pretty happy group and are up for a good joke at anytime. The joke is usually about another person, but you have to understand that they are very sarcastic and they are good at hiding their actual emotion.
They care about their appearance a little too much in my opinion. Sometimes it’s okay, but not always. The okay parts of it, is that they always match, and their clothes are always clean and ironed. The bad part about it is: they are afraid of what other people think of them. They think that if they get up to try something new, people will say they look stupid. They care a lot about their reputation.
When I first started getting to know this group, they kept their distance. They weren’t really sure about me until I showed them that I could be trustworthy, and a good friend. Now they realize that, and we’ve gotten pretty close. They are really nice people, and when they really do care about you, you’ll know it. They aren’t afraid to show you that you can trust them too. I’m glad they’re my friends now.

My favorite group is the writing fanatics. I’m now in that group and I have a lot of fun with the other people in it.
I met this group at a camp called VAMPY. We are all in the writing class. We see each other every day for at least 7 hours, and write about the same things almost every day. But the things we write about are all different too, because we are all different people.
This group became really close. All the people in the group are all weird in some way, but we don’t mind, because it’s the weird ones that are the most interesting.
The amazing part about it though is that everyone in this group is also in another group, like the Magic enthusiasts, or the Negro gang. What brought us together was that we all love to write. We aren’t afraid of what others think about our writing because we know that everyone will appreciate it one way or another.
The moments I love with this group are just sitting outside on a sunny day in the shade of a tree just writing, or singing Beatles songs, or waiting for the bell tower to chime another tune for every hour, or just talking about a random thought.
We all learn from each other and we all help each other progress in writing or just help each other get through some hard times, like someone stealing our stuff. From the moment I met all the people in this group I didn’t feel out of place for one second. I know at least five things about each person in our group, and there are thirteen of us, and I’m pretty sure the other twelve know at least five things about me. We are open with each other all the time and actually got to know each other based on our personalities. We never judge each other according to looks or reputation. We’re all so close now and I love it. I’m really glad I’m part of this group.

the story of a boy named tyler

2009-07-08T14:31:00.000-05:00

White pants, black spots, OH NO!!! How did this happen you might ask. Well it all started when a young man by the name of Tyler Johnson got up to go to class one day. Tyler wasn’t a socially active person; he didn’t talk to a lot of people. The day started out in the same old routine as any other day, wake up at 6:30, take a shower, get dressed, brush his teeth, and so on. What Tyler didn’t know was that today was going to be a really bad day for him. He walked into the cafeteria, gets his normal breakfast eggs, tater tots, bacon, and apple juice. He sat at a table by himself while others sit around him and make jokes about him. They call him fat, say he’s gay, and say that he should just go home because nobody here likes him. Tyler always had a level head so he just got up and walked away so he wouldn’t something stupid. After breakfast he walked and waited until he could go to class. People walked by him and called him names, cursed at him, and even tried to push him down steps. Time passed and class was about to start. The teacher walked in, and Tyler was now in his happy place, the classroom. This was his happy place because here nobody could make fun of him and because Tyler loved to learn. In the classroom the teacher wouldn’t let kids to poke fun at Tyler’s buck teeth or his weight or any of his flaws. She began to talk about who is important in the history of chemistry. Tyler wrote down every word she said and began to learn. Chemistry was Tyler’s favorite subject. His teacher felt sorry for Tyler because he was a smart but helpless child in a cold, dark world. Class later ended and it was time for lunch. People harassed him and brought his confidence down but he didn’t let it bother him. Tyler sat by himself and quietly ate his lunch, then went on his way. This is where things start going wrong. The star athlete of the school’s basketball team, John Henry, was always bullying Tyler. John walked up beside Tyler, tripped him and then threw him to the ground. Then a car drove by and purposely run through a puddle and splashed water all over Tyler’s favorite pair of white shorts. Jokes filled Tyler’s ears from everywhere. “Way to go clumsy,” “How’s it feel to be a dork” was all Tyler could hear. He jumped up and ran back to his dorm crying. John had pushed him over the edge. Tyler then decided he would get revenge. The next day Tyler wasn’t at breakfast. John made fun of him and made jokes like “he had to stay home with his mommy because I hurt his little feelings,” since he didn’t show up. Tyler walked in class late for the first time all year. His teacher asked if everything was ok. He replied, “Yes.” He later raised his hand and asked permission to go to the restroom. He was excused. When he got to the restroom he checked to make sure no one was in there. He then pulled out his father’s pistol and loaded it, put it in his pocket and headed back to class. As he reached the door he pulled out the pistol and busted through the door. He pointed his gun at John as the teacher immediately tried to reason with him. She couldn’t get through to him. He then yelled, “Nobody talks!” The room got silent. Tyler then began to talk to john. He said, “You thought it was funny to pick on me and make fun of me yesterday didn’t you. Well it looks like the tables have turned got anything to say now? You embarrassed me in front of the whole school and here’s your consequence.” As he said the last word he pulled the trigger. By this time campus police had arrived. They secured Tyler as he watched John’s body hit the floor. The police escorted Tyler to a squad car and took him to prison. John lay on the floor, dead. Tyler now sits behind bars for the rest of his young life, but nobody will ever pick on him again.

Lists

2009-07-08T14:22:00.000-05:00

Things that might be in Apollo's bag:
-Duck tape just in case a shoe breaks.
-A racket ball to play with during breaks.
-A door hinge fixer
-A little man so when he gets darted, there is always someone there to help him.
-Cookies and Cream Hershey's kisses.

Light sabers would be an inappropriate cutting devise for the following situations:
-Cutting someone's hair, knowing the fact that they might not have a head afterward.
-Neutering a dog, because that's just rude.
-If you try to use it to cut in line, it will work, just keep in mind you will probably go to jail or mental hospital.
-Refrain from using light sabers to preform a surgery.
-Now that I think about it. There is no appropriate time for you to use a light saber for cutting because you are not a Jedi. :P

The Shot and the Game

2009-07-08T14:20:00.001-05:00

It was my school Henry Dunbar Warriors in the championship vs. Lafayette Station Chargers. I was a junior, 6’1, 6’2, about 200 lbs, starting small forward for the team. It was the 4th quarter; we were down by two, 97-95 with 10 seconds left in the game and it was our ball. We were inbounding on our side of the court, by the bench. We decided not to waste time and throw up a three at the buzzer. Instead we were going to go for a quick two, foul them, and then go for the game-winner. DJ was passing in the ball, he passed it to me I crossed over, stepped back, squared up, then shot. Swish! Tied up 97-97, with 5 seconds left in the game. We fouled as quickly as we could. The person goes up to the line with four seconds left. He missed the first one, their coach calls timeout. During the huddle our coach goes over the plan. “We’re going to try to inbound the ball to RJ ok, (points at me) then you dribble down the court as fast as you can, and then you shoot, pray and celebration time.” “Win on 3. 1, 2, 3, Win!!!!!!!!” He hits the second one, our coach calls timeout to calm us down and to go over the play again. Were back on the court the ref is handing the ball to DJ, I have two picks set for me. I lose my person and DJ throws the ball right on the spot I get to half-court, there is two seconds left. I just throw up a prayer, I watch as the clock ticks down to 0 and the buzzer goes off, but the ball is still soaring through the air. Less than a second after the buzzer goes off the ball drops through the net. Swish!!!!!!!!! We go crazy, people are crying, jumping, tackling people, yelling, it was just an amazing experience. But not the best experience. The coach finally calms us down so we can shake the other team’s hands and receive awards and the Trophy. I ended up getting MVP and my team got the Championship Trophy. I was talking with some friends and teammates, when I saw my parents out of the corner of my eye. I was surprised. I wasn’t surprised to see my mom but I was surprised to see my dad. All my life he wanted me to do baseball like him, but baseball just wasn’t my sport basketball was, and just never could understand that. Also he never came to any of my games except for the first game of the season and maybe the last game, but here he was at the Championship game. Being the mama’s boy that I am I dashed over there as quick as I could and hugged my mom, picked her up and swung her in the air. Next was my dad I shook his hand, he said “Come here son.” And he gave me this big hug, and he whispered in my ear, “Wow. That was so incredibly amazing. Good job, son. I’m so proud of you and your love for basketball.”
You could just say that that day was the best day of my life!

Shatterproof

2009-07-08T14:17:00.000-05:00

A black dress hung lonely and limp in the shadowy corner of the closet, pushed away from all the other clothes. Illiana avoided looking at it, almost as if she could catch the plague by doing so, as she rifled for a suitable outfit to put on. After the third time through her limited supply she gave a little sigh of frustration along with an eye roll and just grabbed a pair of old ripped up and stained blue jeans and a slightly v-necked t-shirt boasting a faded eagle design. She just didn’t have the energy to care about what she dressed like anymore. There was no reason to try and impress anyone. She slid on the dingy clothes with a weary slowness, ran her ragged nails and slim bony fingers through her once vibrant, stick straight blonde hair and decided she was too worn out to put any more effort into her appearance today. Not even lipstick and eyeliner could fix her mood.
Her feet dragged towards the kitchen at a snail's pace to get some coffee in hopes that it would allow her a slight jump start for her morning. She dispensed it into the chipped, red mug that was her preferred; deciding that straight black was what she required. Her body carried her and the mug to the kitchen table where she plopped down with a moderately loud, “oomph”. She began to mindlessly leaf through the multiple envelopes heaped up on the table. There were so many bills that she had no idea how she was ever going to pay them. It seemed that since Jonathan’s death everything had pretty much fallen apart. Karma was always out to get her. She allowed her head to free fall and smack the table with a noisy thud, mulling over her thoughts.
Not even considering where she was going to go Illiana stood up and hastily exited her diminutive apartment. She was making her way down her building’s stairwell when she noticed an adolescent boy, appearing to be around the fruitful age of seventeen, wearing black clothing that blended flawlessly with his shaggy, onyx hair. He took one glance at her tear tainted face and whispered, “When your world shatters, do you?” He continued to gaze expressively at her for a moment before getting up and walking away leisurely, leaving her to contemplate his words and pull out of them what life preservers she could.

Lists

2009-07-08T14:10:00.001-05:00

Thing that may be in Apollo's bag

A Frog

The hide from a golden cow

A fork

Ambrosia and Nectar

Adriana's String

Additional Rules for MAU

♦= announce and pass card to person across from you

♣= tap the person on your right

9= say "Wizard's duel

6= say " Six, Six"

Q= say "All hail Lady MAU of England"

Light saber and when they are innapropriate.

Cutting vege's

Cutting hair

Clipping dogs ;)

Cutting nails

Eating breakfast

Literary Lists

2009-07-08T14:10:00.000-05:00

Things That Could Be in Apollo's Bag:
1. yoyo (possibly broken)
2. silverware
3. For all we know, a unicorn
4. A "Napoleon Dynamite" poster
5. Possibly the key to the third dimension.

Awesome Popsicle Flavors That Don't Exist:
1. Shirley temple
2. Sparkling apple cider
3. Diet coke
4. Twizzler
5. Gobstopper

Situations in which a light saber would be inappropriate:
1. Dinner ("Mom, I cut a little more than the table!"
2. In school as scissors
3. As a scalpel during surgery. That beeping will just be one long ring in your ears pretty soon.
4. Cutting your hair
5. Trimming your nails. You're going to lose a little more than a nail.
6. On an episode of "Sesame Street"
7. Cutting a wedding cake
8. A prize at a carnival
9. In a pinata at a five-year-old's birthday party

My Literary Lists

2009-07-08T14:09:00.000-05:00

Things That Might Be In Apollo's Bag

A stolen yelping chihuahua
The hinge from and Emergency Exit Only door
Duct tape
Invisible paralyzing darts
Shiny plastic silverware

Situations In Which a Light Saber Is an Inappropriate Cutting Device

Birthday parties for the pinata
Hair salons for kids
Dog groomers
Making paper snowflakes
Cutting your babies umbilical cord
Removing braces
Operating utensil

Additional Rules for Mao

If your name is Circe you get three penalty cards
If you play a 3 you must sing I'm a little teapot
If you play a 5 you must say your ABC's backwards
If your name is Apollo you must stay darted the entire game
When someone calls a penalty card on you you have to hit them with you shoe

Timothy

2009-07-08T14:08:00.000-05:00

The boys hand was shaking as he lowered the gun
“No, I didn’t mean to, please!” he cried tears streaming down his face
“shut up and quit crying timothy!” a tall man behind him hit him sharply in the back of his head causing spots to spin around him. “You’re with us now, all your problems are over” timothy didn’t move his eyes from the pool of ruby red blood spreading from the man he had just killed, the man’s voice softened “it will get easier with time” timothy tucked the gun into his belt and turned, his face hardening into a familiar mask as he joined the ranks of his new gang their cheers ringing in his ears.

A car screeched and timothy heard his friend yell in excitement
“Get ready! Get ready!”
Timothy acknowledged the order grabbing the bat from the back of the car and swinging it at a man on the side of the road. There was a sickening crunch and timothy flinched as the cloying scent of blood filled his nostrils and he felt it splatter his cheek. The car screeched again and roared away from the crime his friend laughing at the way the man fell.

Timothy hesitated, hiding in the bushes wondering what to do. Making a decision he took a deep breath and walked up to the door of the forbidding station pausing at the threshold before stepping inside. An officer led him into one of the back rooms where he stayed for about an hour. He came out with the glint of a secret hidden deep in his eyes and a small smile of redemption twitching in the corner of his cheek.

Timothy woke up to his leader yelling, his hand instinctively grabbed the gun on his bedside table.
“Get your butts out of bed; we’ve got a raid in case you’ve forgotten!”
He leapt up already dressed following the others out of their hideout, hopping into one of the three white vans filled with plastic explosives and weapons, he checked his gun. His hand shook slightly gripping the small square in his pocket and covering it in sweat.

Alarms rang out breaking the early morning silence as men scrambled out of vans shooting at anything that moved in the front of the warehouse. Timothy leapt out last cocking his gun and raising it looking for rival gang members. He didn’t look long for within minutes people were shooting back at them from the warehouse. Then it ended, the loud call of a bullhorn breaking through the sounds of the fight and L.A. police coming out of hidey holes around the warehouse
“Drop your weapons and put your hands in the air”
Both gangs seemed stunned as the morning turned quiet again and gang members were handcuffed. Timothy stepped forward his hand reaching into his pocket for the badge that showed he was undercover. He heard someone yell.
“Gun”
There was a bang.

"Brevity Is The Soul Of Wit" ...

2009-07-08T14:02:00.000-05:00

... and yesterday's writing exercises surely prove that Mr. Polonius was indeed correct, even though he couldn't follow this maxim himself. Though the class has turned from poetry to prose, we're still working on concision and precision of language, particularly when it comes to imagery. We began with a morning warm-up, this time crafting literary lists with Sei Shonagon's The Pillow Book and Dave Eggers' amazing Website, Timothy McSweeney's Internet Tendency, as inspiration. The class crafted literary lists on topics such as "Awesome Popsicle Flavors That Don't Exist But Should -- Or Should Not" and "Situations in Which a Lightsaber Would Be Inappropriate," learning all the while how to develop a theme and create poetic leaps in as few words as possible.

Afterward, we continued our discussion of Shonagon's aesthetics and the form of the zuihitsu, learning how the form should display aesthetic features including wit and/or lightness, courtly refinement, the aforementioned mono no aware, and purity of emotion and emotional expression. The students filed outside to finish up their zuihitsu, inspired by the beauty of nature and the interrupting nature of lawnmowers.

After lunch, we posted our work on the blog and workshopped in pairs. Then, it was time for the ultimate exercise in concision and brevity: the six word short story. As the story goes, Ernest Hemingway grabbed a napkin at the Algonquin hotel and wrote what he later claimed were the best words he's ever written:

For sale: baby shoes, never worn.

These six words tell so much, and contain a great depth of narrative and emotion -- so much so that what might've been dismissed as absent-minded scribbling actually morphed into a form of fiction. We wrote ten six word short stories a piece, then ended class with the fine art of flash fiction ahead of us for study hall.

Postscript: A Poem

Bird on the mountaintop,
still but still singing -- without
ears, is it a song?

6 word short stories

2009-07-08T13:58:00.000-05:00

1.The wolves ate me. I survived.

2.Embarrasment. Just get over it kid

3. The moon rose over daytime skies.

4. Fantasy. It's much need for escape.

5.Feeling time passing can be good.

6. Equality. Because we are all animals.

7. Blank paper, pens scratching, good day.

8. Darn that mouse, my clock's broken.

9. Blood trickling, hunger satisfied, evil departs.

10. Empty cabinet, what will go inside.

11.Boom, Crash, Bang... It's my life.

12. Light blinds, Darkness lies. Goodbye friend.

13. Red, shimmering, tattered, torn... t-shirt.

14. Children kneel in dry rivers. Why?

15. Love and Hate, War and Peace.

16. Why does the mocking bird crow now
17. Daniel Montgomery Ivan Creech... The third.

19. Nevermore shall I hide in darkness.

10. Twisting stream, where do you lead?

DVD

2009-07-08T13:57:00.001-05:00

I’m Excited… I Have A DVD!
“I’m excited… I have a DVD!” screamed a very overexcited Tom. Even though DVD’s had been around a while, Tom Ginoro and his parents had just gotten a DVD over the weekend. “ that’s awesome to scream, 11 years ago” said the class skeptic Blake, an obnoxious sneer painted on his face. At 15 the boys had been enemies all their lives, ever since third grade. Blake always slammed Tom about his low income and over excitable nature. “Look, he has nothing to say in response everyone. Just like always, the fat cow!” “You quit it Blake! I’ll tell Mrs. Rafferty, or Mr. Huff, maybe I’ll even take it to the principal!” The rest of the class looked uneasily at each other, everyone knows teachers never really take care of anything. Dragging a teacher into an argument was like pouring water on a drowning man. Whatever was going on between the two boys would have to be worked out by them. “All right Ginoro, stop being the freakin’ noob you are and actually do something. Tell you what, let me see your DVD.” Tom had brought his DVD to show everyone and was beginning to regret the decision. “ I said let me see the freakin’ DVD!” Blake roughly grabbed Tom’s backpack, ripped open the zipper, and snatched out the DVD. “NO! Don’t you care about anything Blake?!” The whole class could begin to hear the tears in Tom’s voice, this was getting interesting. Egged on by their hoots and yells Blake casually took the DVD out of its case and stomped his foot on it. Everyone froze, he had gone too far. “Don’t look so torn up everybody, it was a stupid movie, and he’s just some loser.” “You dumb bastard.” Tom curled one fist into a ball and swung. Blake toppled to the ground, Tom kicked him in the ribs. Blake was still on the ground when the paramedics got there.

Guts

2009-07-08T13:54:00.001-05:00

The stray wandered through the dark alley, trying to sniff out her master. A breeze drifted down the street and the dogs hackles rose, she gave a menacing growl. The bad man was coming for her.
Not long ago when Carl (her master) and his parents had been away for a few days the bad man had broken into their house. When they returned, everything was gone, including Dew.
The bad man stood in the mouth of the alleyway. His crooked nose and dull eyes the same as when he had first taken Dew from home. The bad man seemed angry that she had escaped, Dew didn’t care though, Dew was a good dog, and she would find her way to her master.
Dew was frightened of the bad man but she made up for it in loud growls and wide eyes. Teeth bared she started to make her way toward the bad man. She had to slip by him to get home and she wasn’t about to give up.
“You ungrateful little mutt! I take you out of that disgusting rat hole, feed you, care for you, and how do you repay me? By running away! By shunning my kindness!” The bad man yelled at her.
Dew replied with an extra fierce snarl. The bad man roared, “You flea bitten slime! I ought to put you down for the trouble you’ve caused me!”
Conflicting feeling battled in her head the first was that she wished Carl was there to help her but then again, she didn’t want the bad man to hurt him.
The bad man approached Dew and swings at her with his steel toed boot. She tried to dodge but he is too quick. Her screech echoes out through the streets, waking many from a peaceful slumber.
Dew lay on the ground, trying to scramble to her feet, she could smell Carl coming now and she wanted to get away before he got hurt. Blood splattered her previously pure white fur and she held back a whimper.
The bad man swung his leg back for another kick and Dew let out a quiet whine. He was here. The bad man froze, Carl’s blade pressed against the back of his neck. “If you ever hurt her again I swear to God I’ll kill you. Don’t you ever even think of hurting my dog again.”
The bad man laughed and Dew cocked her head slightly. “You don’t have the guts to kill me kid.”
“Try me.”

six words.

2009-07-08T13:52:00.000-05:00

Tomorrow: Save the world, buy milk.

Don't worry, it could be worse.

Don't panic. Don't panic. Okay panic.

Missing: the ability to think straight.

Look behind you! It's the world.

Forever? I'll think about this first.

He's smart. She's smart. I'm smarter.

Yes, I sing in the shower.

One, two, three, four, five, six.

Wanted: My camera, iPod, and money.

You ain't bad! You ain't nothing!

Flowers. Pretty, bright, and leaning. Smile.

Twins. Crashed down. People gone forever.

A story. A memory. One scar.

Craving the surge. Always wanting it.

To late. I already ate them.

A promise worth dying for, told.

United, we fall; Divided, we stand.

I'd love to see you fall.

Music blasting. Never stopping. Running fever.

Don't kid yourself, I'm fine alone.

Six-Word Short Stories

2009-07-08T13:51:00.000-05:00

1. Everything I own is gone. How?
2. Fell in love. Really bad idea.
3. Got lost in wilderness. Not fun.
4. Everything will be okay until tomorrow.
5. Saved world. Now what to do?
6. Deaths on news, no one watches.
7. Snow drifting down, burying the evidence.
8. Large fire, shamed faces running away.
9. Tide comes in, X doesn't mark.
10.Gunshot rings, school quiet, faces frozen.
11.Sword clatters down. Who has won?
12. People mourn, both red and blue.
13. When your world shatters, do you?
14. Hands raised skyward, gospel music rings.
15.Wandering streets, will work for home.
16.Crowded dance floor, people find destiny.
17.A letter arrives, faces turn pale.
18.Cold breezes near an empty ocean
19.Wearing white and black, two cry.
20.Final parry, foils drawn, win gold.

9/11/01

2009-07-08T13:50:00.002-05:00

It’s a bright sunny morning. Benjamin was walking to work, slowly though so he could admire the beautiful streets of Manhattan. His phone started singing the AT&T default ring tone. He takes it out of his pocket, “Yes dear?” he inquires. “You forgot to put on the new green tie I bought you!” his wife whined on the other end of the line. Benjamin had purposely left the puke colored, paisley tie on his dresser, but loved his wife so much that he was willing to wear it just to make her smile. “Damn it! I’m sorry! I’ll hurry back and get it right now!” Benjamin hung up the phone, and hurried back the way he had come.
He came upon a little white house with pale green shutters. Green, of any shade or tint, was his wife’s favorite color. He went into the house and into his room. His wife was standing there waiting with the tie in her hand. She went to him and put the tie on. She then took a step back and said, “You look really handsome in it!” A big smile went across her face, and seeing that, Benjamin's smile was even bigger. He pulled her close and kissed her. Laying a hand on her stomach, he bent down to kiss that too. He whispered quietly, “You have a gorgeous mother.” He stood up straight again. “I love you.” His wife sighed still with a grin on her face. “And I love you.” Benjamin said from the bottom of his heart, and then ran out the door.
He was walking on the crowded streets again, brisker now that he was running a little late. He worked at one of the Twin Towers as a business man. He was on the 7th floor. He walked off the elevator and saw mini business men and women everywhere. It was bring your kid to work day. He looked forward to taking his own child to his office with one of the best views on that floor. His kid would be so proud of him.
He sat at his desk, and called for Jerry. Jerry was Benjamin’s young but efficient secretary. He came in and started reciting the schedule for that day. When he looked up, his eyes grew wide, and his face turned ghost white. “Oh my god, what is that?!” he yelled. Benjamin turned just in time to see a plane coming straight for the building.
In a matter of seconds, everything was destroyed, alarms were going off, people were screaming, and there was a thick cloud of smoke everywhere. The plane had crashed into the building about 10 floors up but affected the whole building. It was shaking, and rumbling. Benjamin felt a sharp pain in his arms and on his head. He got up, and staggered to the door of his office. He could see black figures running around like little demons with high pitched screams. He made his way towards the steps self-consciously. His mind didn’t know what to think about and could tell his body to do nothing more than run and yell.
He was leaping down the stairs, avoiding ceiling tiles and broken glass. He heard a faint cry right as he was passing the 4th floor entrance room. He looked inside, but could see nothing, but heard the faint cry again. He opened the door and smoke hit him in the face like a punch to the eye. He walked in blindly calling out to the person in there. “Where are you?!” he bellowed. He waited a minute and heard another cry, “Help me!” He could tell it was a kid, probably brought here by one of his parents. He followed the sound of the kid’s voice. Finally, he found a little boy under a piece of wood that seemed to be a desk, or what was left of it. Benjamin pushed with all his muscle and set the boy free. He carried the kid out the door and started carrying him down the steps.
The building was shaking even more now and there was another big crash. Benjamin looked up and saw that the building was going down, fast. He tried to run fast but a part of the ceiling fell and landed on him! He told the boy to follow the rest of the people and to hurry. The little boy said something that seemed to be like a thank you, but he couldn’t tell. His eye sight was getting cloudy and he didn’t feel a floor under him anymore. He started thinking about his wife, and his unborn child. If he died, his son or daughter would have to grow up without a father. The love of his life would have to get a job and be a single mother. He thought about how he would never see his child or his wife ever again. Suddenly he could see again. He didn’t feel his own pain anymore. Benjamin got up and ran, faster than ever down the steps, dodging every obstacle. Then, there was light. He could see the sun. Someone picked him up and carried him away from the building, and away from the smoke. Then everything was black.
Benjamin woke up to his wife, looked at him with so much care and worry. When she saw that he was awake she hugged him and kissed him, yelling who knows what. Benjamin could just smile. He WOULD be there for the two most important things in his life, no matter what.

Helpless

2009-07-08T13:50:00.001-05:00

The car screeched to a stop, skid marks tearing up the pavement. The child’s playground ball rolled on. Wounded, the kid stayed still in the street. Lucky for Kendra, the young boy had pushed away from the car and only gotten a sprained ankle. She apologized and drove on.
Rain pelted the car as she entered the city’s downtown area. The dull gray of the afternoon seemed to accentuate everyone’s bored solemnity. At a stoplight, something caught Kendra’s eye from outside. In an alley, a person was struggling. His briefcase thrashed to the ground, a man in black clothing stripped the stolen wallet with one hand, and held back the man with the other unnerving forearm. She winced, looked away in sympathy, and pressed the gas as the light turned green.
When at work, she silently made herself some coffee. No one said hello to her, and she acknowledged no one. In her cubicle, her countenance was indifferent. When answering the dreaded phone calls, her voice remained almost monotone. As the sky cleared up outside, she barely gave the care to notice. The rest of the day passed rather uneventfully, taking no turns for better or worse. Kendra worked overtime, as no friends or family had called to make plans. Finally, around 10 o’clock, she headed to the roof for a break and some fresh air. Opening the door, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Her peaceful expression vanished at the sight of a man on the edge of the roof. The starry night surrounded him, revealing him and his plans.
“Don’t jump,” she said, and hastily paced towards him. The man looked back at her, then up at the heavens, then down at the busy streets. “Take my hand!” she pleaded as she arrived at the sudden edge, putting one had on the ledge and reaching the other out towards him. He gave her a sympathetic glance, then bent down, and leaped out. Engulfed in the night, he was gone. Kendra let out a scream, and continued to do so, cursing herself and the world. Her hair swirled in the wind, like they were attempting to hide the tears carving deep paths along her once unchangeable face. No one has to save lives.

Lullaby

2009-07-08T13:49:00.000-05:00

After the divorce, Wray had kept the child. In court, the alcoholic mother was not trusted with its care. Wanting to find a job quickly to support the needy baby, he took on the career of a pianist in a Broadway orchestra.
The light was dim backstage after the show. In a private room away from the rowdy actors, Wray rocked the baby back and forth, then carefully let it lie in a makeshift bed of blankets. Rosette was her name, a small and fragile flower that she was. Suddenly, her pink lips curved downwards and her closed-eyed face tightened. A subtle whimper was heard, and proceeded to build to loud cries. Undoubtedly, she needed a mother with more of a maternal instinct than he had. God only knew where Wray could find one.
Again, he took his infant in his tired arms, attempting to calm her, all in vain. The bawling went on for some time. As a last resort, he decided to feed her. Yet, when she was finished with the bottle, she continued her sobbing. In a matter of desperation, hope, and love, he set her back down on the blankets. The volume of the cries amplified. He winced as he walked the short, but seemingly long, trip to the piano. He sat down on the old oak bench. It creaked under his weight as he flipped through the songs he knew by heart in his mind. Finally, he chose. The muscles in Rosette’s face loosened as she was calmed, and a wave of peace came over her tiny body, all as the ivory keys played a soothing lullaby.

Six-Word Short Stories (or less)

2009-07-08T13:34:00.001-05:00

1) The coffin shortage will not end.
2) Airplane takes flight. Thousand miles apart.
3) School trip: Mexico. ¿Dóndé está profesor?
4) I couldn't get enough of it.
5) The pallbearers had very somber looks.
6) The bell ended 12 school years.
7) That's what she said, oh yeah!
8) He couldn't stop for water.
9) Last second buzzer, new world champions.
10) I found him there, just there...
11) Darn it.
12) He was always there.
13) I am nothingness.
14) The boat sat there, rusting.

Kevin Carter

2009-07-08T13:32:00.002-05:00

"I am depressed ... without phone ... money for rent ... money for child support ... money for debts ... money!!! ... I am haunted by the vivid memories of killings and corpses and anger and pain ... of starving or wounded children, of trigger-happy madmen, often police, of killer executioners...I have gone to join Ken if I am that lucky." -Found with the body of Kevin Carter

It was a warm, sunny day in South Africa. The noonday sun was shining mercilessly. Kevin Carter was hazy and sleep deprived. He had not slept for 2 days. Every time he tried he envisioned the things he saw and documented. Every time he tried to go to sleep he saw his baby son, playing on a playground many African children had ever seen. Kevin was parked in his truck by the spot where he himself played as a child, away from the poverty he saw.

He did nothing, he thought to himself. He had done nothing. No change had come about because of his life-long work. He had won a Pulitzer Prize, but not anything truly importantly had come about. He had been criticized by many, "the man adjusting his lens to take just the right frame of her suffering might just as well be a predator, another vulture on the scene."

He breathed heavily as he felt the carbon monoxide in his lungs.

There she was. Just lying there. A lonely girl, malnourished, despite the technology, innovation and surplus of the Western world, elbows protecting her face, scarred by horrors, everyday things where she was from, that no American had ever seen before. Her ribs were well defined, with no clothes or protection from the hot sun. Her eyes conveyed the deepest emotions of desperation and isolation. A starvation not even a nearby village could solve, as the harvest that year failed. The famine waged its seemingly endless war on the villagers, while the foreign aid reinforcements did little in their quagmire of red tape, corruption and greed.

The vulture sat there; waiting, watching. Its eyes were solely focused on the eventual prey that sat, cowered in fear before it. It could wait.

All he had was water, a notebook and pens, a map and compass, and his photographer’s kit. With these objects, he had hoped to help end poverty. All of this was captured in thousands of vivid colors showing the striking, thought-provoking scene. “This one image,” Kevin said aloud to himself, “could help save the world from the plague of poverty.”

He breathed heavily as he felt the carbon monoxide in his lungs.

6 word short stories or less

2009-07-08T13:30:00.000-05:00

1. Purple shirt: got stolen, why now?
2. I understand, what do I do?
3. Mountain Dew: great stuff, need more
4. Lost dog, found him, now what?
5. Didn't you have on shades earlier? Yep!
6. Six word short stories are easy
7. Red bracelet, blue bracelet, no bracelet.
8. Hershey's gone, Nerds gone, Red Vines?
9. Boom! What happened? You mean here
10. Bow Chicka Wow Wow, Oh yeah!
11. White pants, black spots, oh no!
12. Blue pencil, red pencil, Robert's pencil.
13 Tick tock, Boom! Everyone dead.
14. The plague! The plague! Black Rats!
15. Diseases, viruses, 5 million dead bodies.
16. dead babies, dead parents, one left
17. Four, three, two, one... blast off!!
18. Vanilla ice cream, dropped ice cream
19. Western Kentucky University, Hilltoppers, Big Red!
20. Clean socks, dirty pants, stained shirts.
21. Where are my shoes? => The cat.
22.Cat and dog. Don't mix
23. Polar bears, penguins, global warming.

Great Baseball, Great Career, No More!

2009-07-08T13:28:00.000-05:00

Robert “Statman” Jefferson is one of the best players, if not the best of his time. He is and always will be one of the best and a role model/idol. He could do it all; he just filled up the highlights and the stat books. This season was probably going to be his best. He led both leagues in singles, doubles, triples, homeruns, RBI’s, and steals. But then came that dreaded day of August 5th, 2014. It was the Cleveland Steamrollers vs. the Syracuse Clowns; “Statman” Jefferson was on the Steamrollers. It was tied up 9-9, the bottom of the 9th, 2 outs, Jefferson was on 3rd. The pitch was thrown then, Whack! As soon as the ball was hit Jefferson was off like a bullet. (Here comes the terrible part, I can remember the commentator’s words as if it happened yesterday.) “He runs towards base, trips!” Career ended. No one really knows what happened, some say he tripped on his shoelaces, others say there was a soft spot in the ground, and more people have more predictions of what happened. But everyone will remember that day August 5th, 2014 as the day Robert “Statman” Jefferson almost became the greatest baseball player ever.

6 Word Short Stories

2009-07-08T13:14:00.000-05:00

It's a monster don't stand there!

Not married. Had a kid. Woops!

Silly Cameron. Red letters. Broken door.

Antarctica is melting...we're all dead.

Zombie squirrels are invading! Killed them.

Running extremely fast. Oww! Broken ankle.

Yummy Goldfist. Nom Nom Nom! Gone.

Silly rabbit, no trix. Incredibly sad.

Given life. Live life. You die.

Drink Mt. Dew alot, no teeth.

Laughing rainbows and unicorns. Sweet dreams.

Little girl scrapes knee. Childhood memory.

Cold ice nips your skin. Hypothermia.

Skittles rain from the sky. Wow!

Man and wife fight. Divorce reigns.

That was so hilarious...I think.

Tearful teenage years. Friends fix everything.

Ghostly little boy. "Daddy killed me."

Ivory keys play a soothing lullaby.

The James Book

2009-07-07T15:03:00.000-05:00

The new year actually starts off in winter, but it doesn’t really kick off until spring because that’s when all of nature’s beauty comes back.
Summer to me is the best season because all the effects of spring are still here and we get to be out of school to enjoy it.
Then comes fall when all the leaves change color and “fall” to the ground. There’s the cool, autumn breeze. Also my birthday and my parent’s anniversary are in the fall.
Winter is the season that ends the year and starts the year. Even though it can be as naturally beautiful as spring, it can be mean, dirty, messy, and painful. During this season I get to drink one of my favorite drink’s hot chocolate.
The Enjoyable Things of Summer
1. The cool breeze
2. Spending time with old, best friend’s that you haven’t seen in forever.
3. The sense of refresh that you get when you jump into the cool water of a swimming pool.
4. The shade of a Maple Tree
5. The songs of birds
My Friend’s Creepiness
I and my friend’s were at a dance and one of my friend’s (stalker) really, really, liked this girl. He kept asking her questions about her dancing. One time, he just started walking towards her doing this like come here thing except with just one finger he was doing it with both hands and they were around his waist, and he had like this weird, creepy look in his eyes. Now the girl that he really, really likes thinks he’s a creeper.
The Colors of the World
There are so many colors in the world, there is no longer just red, blue, yellow, green, purple, orange, black, and white. Now there is magenta, lavender, pink, gray, yellow-green, goldenrod, forest green, indigo, violet, blue-green, etc. It is just amazing how much our world has evolved.
Flavored Drinks that I wouldn’t mind Drinking right now
1. Blue Raspberry Mountain Dew
2. Mountain Dew and Dr. Pepper mixed
3. Vanilla Hot chocolate
4. Sweet Tea
5. Pink Lemonade
Songs that make a dance a dance
1. Closing time, end of song at dances at VAMPY
2. Any Soulja Boy song
3. Electric Slide
4. Swag Surfing
5. Stanky Legg
What defines a Stalker?
If you notice someone stalking someone else, and you keep watching that person, do you eventually become a stalker? If you do who are you actually stalking, the person stalking the other person, or the person being stalked. Also people always say there is always someone watching you, does that mean everyone is or has been a stalker.

Taylor getting mad at the Cards
Yesterday night Taylor and I were playing ERS, and I was smacking all the doubles and everything. He’s starting to get mad, and so when he goes to smack a double, he throws his cards everywhere they literally just fly out of his hands. It was hilarious.
Corey Last Night
Yesterday Corey came to our hall, it wasn’t pretty at all. If I learn just one thing from this camp it’s to not make Corey angry because his wrath will be felt. It’s terrifying, I wasn’t even the one getting in trouble and I was horrified. I felt so sorry for the dumb people who actually did get in trouble but it was their own fault.

VAMPY

2009-07-07T15:02:00.000-05:00

VAMPY
1.The Zen Of Bissell
The sheer idiocy of people annoys me. In some cases I suppose they can’t help it, but they should try harder. An exception is the Zen of Bissell. Can’t get a door open? Pull harder. What makes Pop Rocks pop? Chemicals. I salute u my suite mate.
2.Do And Learn
One who watches learns, but not as much as if they were doing. If someone asks you to play cards while you are reading you should say yes. You can learn about a situation, but can never put that information into use except through experience.
3. Blowdart: reasons to pull one out of your neck
1. You look silly on the ground
2. It gives the person who blowdarted you too much satisfaction
3. You have better things to do
4. It makes authorities angry
5. What if your outside and it starts raining?

4. Twilight
I love the summer more than any other time of my year. For one thing VAMPY happens only in summer. Tempers are usually higher because of the heat, but by twilight people can get along. The mood outside matches the mood in the group, that hazy feel of cookouts, friends, and music, all wrapped up in one hour of the day.
5. NERDS!!!
People love being around people like them. For a nerd this means there are very few people to talk to where they are from. When they get a huge conglomeration of nerds in one place they become very happy, and forge their own unbreakable nerdy bonds. This is good for the nerds, bad for the people putting up with them.

6. Crazy Nicknames
Penguin
BIS
Trouble Noodle
Jwheezy
The Academy

7.Duck Tape
Duck tape is a wonderfully sticky thing. Snap some shoes in half? Sure, it can fix that. It would be safe to say that if I knew of a coming apocalypse, I would grab a roll of duck tape first thing. It makes a great stocking stuffer, baby shower gift, or prank tool. I made shoes out of it and I’m currently making a hat.
8. Roomies
A person’s roomy is usually really awesome or really annoying. You can throw wild dance parties, ice cream parties, tye-dye some name tags, or make fun of stupid mistakes. Unless you hate the person, then many loud and heated arguments may commence.
9. Impossible Things
Getting off blue nail polish
Stains
My little sister
Whiny people
Flying
Making a tape fedora
Breaking a steal door ( unless your Cameron)

Neighbors

2009-07-07T15:01:00.002-05:00

Why is it imperative for the neighbor to criticize?

To think the worst of those around you befuddles your sense and gains unfavorable opinions. Caution in these most uncertain times, in these fields of deception, is perfectly suitable when dealing with unsavory characters, but not allies.

If it happens to pass that your neighbor is participating in reckless motor sports on your land, but the said neighbor is very reasonable, is it not fair to warn them of their crimes before bestowing punishment.

If it comes to pass that your neighbor unleashes a terrible beast upon your property, calling it a misunderstood dog and expecting no trouble to come of the situation, obviously one would tolerate one's own dog to urinate on every inch of the neighbors yard.

If it happens to pass that your neighbor thinks it wise to allow her baby to take a walk down the road, many would debate the ethic of disturbing the little one's walk, even if my husband was about to run him over.

Do my possessions suddenly belong to you?

Have they mysteriously changed in the hands of fate to bend to your every whim? Privacy and more importantly respect, are guidelines we all must obey to even begin earning the title of a 'good person'. Showing outward goodness is the only way for strangers to become good neighbors to each other.

Pool hopping. An excellent activity for those wishing for more trouble than entertainment as they swim in unowned pools; consequently it is also the most ridiculous pastime fools ever deigned to invent. Tell me who isn't turned on by the idea of having screaming nut heads enjoying your pool at three in the morning. I hope every hooligan taking part in this atrocity finds themselves gulping great swaths of black muck after finding themselves in a lake instead of a pool.

Lunatic cats pooing in my flowers. Wherever these felines hide I will find them, every dropping found will rain down on their sorry heads while my flowers rejoice in liberation.

Hosts ignoring their guests. What type of person in all of society likes to have themselves treated as a very shiny, very new,-piece of furniture? The greatest of all memories and pastimes are those spent conversing and interacting with people we enjoy, not contributing to the architecture and wall-art in your host's home. The frank lack of consideration in this situation is completely contradictory to all rules of etiquette. There is no point whatsoever in teasing someone with entertainment and friendly attention which later only yields unnecessary suffering and loneliness. One would think a host would want to gain a positive opinion from someone who can easily influence their social life.

The insufferable qualities...

The insufferable qualities which are demonstrated accidentally by one's neighbors in life are forgivable. These same acts committed with honesty and openness however, cannot be tolerated:

When very noisy motorcycles power down the street as I read enjoyably.

Finishing an exam while someone wines and pouts, learning the teacher will not help them cheat (then blaming their misery on me).

My own tendency to obstinately retain my thoughts even after they have been proven blatantly incorrect.

To see ungrateful protegees waste their leadership as a tyrant throughout high school.

Waiting for someone to realize their importance and calling in life while innocent people are harmed.

Watching as someone declares themselves to a great cause, then completely contradicts the statement later.

Myself, and all other forms personified as I rant and criticize those I have little sympathy for.

Someone assuming authority and knowledge within themselves when frankly they are too illiterate to read their own heart.

Apathetically expressing the disregard one feels for any thoughts, feelings, or opinions of another.

Any person who takes it upon themselves to act as if they are omniscient, and therefore understands every convoluted concept known and unknown to humanity.

Installment 2 of Dreamcatcher

2009-07-07T14:55:00.001-05:00

Morning comes, but I am still tired after a restless night's sleep. My nightmares are getting worse. I can't remember them well when I wake up, though I can recall a man's face twisted in horror and agony. I also retain the feeling of fear and desperation that comes from my dreams.

I climb down the ladder attached to my bunk bed. Saturday is usually a good day, I hope that it is today. My breakfast consists of assorted dairy products and plain toast.

Lizzie, my dog, stays by my side all morning, her black and brown fur raised at the hackles to ward off the other dogs in our house that are just waking up. She is very protective of me. I am very glad that she doesn't know what I go through every night. I finish eating and walk barefoot across the cool white tile.

Haibun

2009-07-07T14:30:00.000-05:00

Born into Christianity, I went along with it. I went to church and faked attention while the preacher droned on about Jesus and God mouthed the words during hymns, just like any other kid. I am not sure I even knew what I was doing. My young mind went with the flow. I did not know of many other religions.

Raised of one belief
Letting it carry me far
One in ignorance

Religion is lost
The purpose does not make sense
What should I do now?

As I grew older, I in a sense lost my religion. Everything about Christianity stopped making sense to me. I questioned the principles, I questioned Jesus, I even questioned God, and I couldn’t help it. Church was now uncomfortable. I couldn’t stop questioning what I was hearing coming out of the minister’s mouth, and I felt like God, if there was one, would punish me. Friends were distressed as I argued my disbeliefs, and was returned with expressions of disbelief. One of my friends even cried because she could not make me Christian. Others were just involved in heated arguments over the truths of religion. Not just my faith, but half of my world fell apart. I was in the dark, alone and confused in being agnostic.

I soon discovered options. I discovered a forbidden magic, barred by most others of faith. Wicca was my secret escape. I got spell books, used them, and enjoyed my new belief, though I did not believe it with my whole heart. With spells, I felt like I could fulfill my own wished. I was not granted permission to light candles, and I could not yet get my hands on incense. I tried spells without them, chanting incantations and wishing, wanting, hoping they would work. Learning a lot as I went, I tried to keep it up. Websites and books were helpful, and I felt close to a good faith. Then I went through periods of believing and thinking it was nonsense, which left me in a dark cave, continuing to feel my way along its vast tunnels.

Magic encircles
Spell books are purchased and used
I accept Wicca

After some time I realized I liked a feeling of belonging. I wanted the satisfaction of sharing a belief with others that I knew. Logan, a friend of mine, aided me in making a compromise. A combination, if you will. We decided to mix Wicca and Christianity. After thinking up many possible names for this, we went with Chwicca. I sounded cool and it fit our purpose. We made a clan journal and did research. We had the whole thing planned out.

Along with a friend
I create a new combo
Chwicca is our book

Later, Logan bailed out. She wasn’t comfortable being involved in something like Wicca that her saint of a mother wouldn’t approve of. I wasn’t so sure of my path now either. With Logan gone, I was now the only one I knew of that faith. The sense of belonging was gone, and I wasn’t sure I could get it back with Wicca. I commenced research of some other religions. It wasn’t the most comforting step in my journey. I like to have something I can always count on, and for most people, that thing is their faith. I had no such thing to rely on, but it was worth looking for.

I yearn to belong
To a sect with a purpose
I research, not find

I then followed a road towards Buddhism. My father, me tagging reluctantly along, asked a Buddhist monk in a bookstore how to choose a religion. He gave a long answer, highlighting that it was great I wanted a faith, but not to pick too hastily. He also picked out a book for me, a biography of the Dalai Lama. I never read it, but I was inspired still by this Indian-born faith. It held some good morals and values. The Eightfold Path for instance, was a basic set of rules for life that appeals to me. Like the “Do not gossip” part of the path. I have dealt with mean people and gossip, and the thought of it finally being shamed by something bigger than us, like a faith, made me very happy. Buddhism also noted that life is suffering. I knew this was for sure, but did Christianity truly point it out so blatantly? No, it really didn’t. This faith made more sense to me, but noted that nothing was for sure. I liked that possibility that anything could be right.

Buddhist monk explains
I must choose my own life’s path
Buddha enlightens

I pulled back from any religion now. I wished only to reassure myself of my own beliefs. Particularly, I was interested in reincarnation. It fascinated me. I had done research, but nothing could surpass the truths of a romance novel titled Reincarnation. It made me realize it had to be true. In the story, the main characters were always reincarnated near one another. From prehistory on up, people were keeping them apart. Until modern day, they couldn’t be together. Everything about the book made sense. Of course they would end up together! Of course they would be allowed back on Earth! This story made me think that reincarnation had to be real. If there was a god, he would put you back on this Earth as many times as needed to learn what you needed about life. Finally something made sense. I knew this was true.

Never religious
But the story made me realize
Reincarnation

World of all beliefs
Trying to find my own way
Faith I will find it soon

After all I have been through, most people would think I had found a sanctuary, a religion, a faith to call my own. Sorry to disappoint, especially myself. I have claimed some religious “facts” and relinquished my hold on any others. I am still on this journey, this religious pilgrimage of my mind. Maybe one day, I will choose a faith. Maybe I will just wait, and find out when I cease to exist on this Earth, like I always said I would. Whatever the outcome, it is a journey worth taking.

Zuihitsu

2009-07-07T14:28:00.000-05:00

♦ Bell towers are large and unnecessary. They make nice music though. So much math and mechanics go into them. Every sound has to be the right pitch. Under the tower is a large purple tree. It would be difficult to draw, like many other things. The light reflects off of some leaves, others it cannot reach. The branches intertwine, some drooping, others stretched towards the sun. A boy sticks a sign out of a window. From what is written on it, I am reminded that we have some funny people here.

♦ Funny things to write on a sign then stick out of a window:

· Inappropriate names of body parts

· “pillage”

· “help me”

· When given a thumbs up in response to a sign, drawing a thumbs up on the sign.

· “LALALA”

· “I like tacos”

♦My backpack was stolen. Not the nicest prospect. Two purses were also stolen. Today, they all turned up behind a couch on a different floor of our building, emptied of things dear and valuable. I was happy, though. That my new jacket, my sunglasses I purchased in France (approximately €7), and my phone charger were intact. My iPod was still gone, of course, and this I was upset about. I was sure someone had put it in a pawn shop by now.

♦ Things that give me a headache:

· Homework

· Lawn mowers

· Things getting lost or stolen

· Bad hair days

· Frantic packing

· General everyday absurdities that upset my fragile nerves and cause stress to take over me.

♦Hair can get annoying. No matter how many times you go to the stylist, it can still be pretty messed up. I scorn those with huge 80s hair. It is the 21^st century, in case they haven’t noticed. Billy Idol is no longer that popular and Madonna has lost some of her gusto. I don’t care if to you “music makes the people come together, yeah”, your hair isn’t going to make anyone “walk this way”. Crimped hair is okay, as long as it’s not too frazzled. But really, 80s hair people, there is such thing as too much volume.

♦ Every school has them. Cliques. Maybe more than there are here at camp. I once stood up to a clique. I told them how I felt, after getting way too sick of them. We were all in the girls’ locker room after gym and I was fed up with their crap. I came around the side of the lockers and started yelling. For my sake I hope I was at least a little bit intimidating. I told them how they put people down, and it felt good to point out their wrongdoings. I hope I had an effect on them, taught them something they’d never forget. Do you know what I got instead? Laughed at, and an afternoon of tears. I’d done what I’d always wanted to do and stood up to them, but they only laughed in my face. I called my mom from the teacher’s office. While waiting for me to come and pick me up from school earlier than she would, a few friends and a teacher came to talk to me. I had expected to be alone. That’s how I felt the world had just left me after what had happened. Apparently, I was wrong. They comforted me, even if they didn’t know it. They couldn’t feel what I felt, I knew that for sure. But with their subtle jokes and words of kindness, I felt pretty loved. Of course, I was still shaken. I would be for a few days. My hope now is that karma will get those girls later, because I failed to do it then.

♦ My friends are crazy, and through laughter and tears, they are true. One of my friends, named Logan, needed a garbage bag to clean out her 1’x1’x2’ locker. She had winter coats, boots, sweatshirts, books, etc. People dear to me, like Logan, always seem to make me laugh with their mischievous antics, even if they aren’t trying. Another friend and I were playing a call and response sort of competition with funny and random noises. They got louder and progressively weirder as we walked in between the middle school and the high school. All of a sudden, an inquisitive janitor poked his head around the corner of a small alcove in the wall. We shut up and made an “oops” face, but kept walking. When we got to where that janitor was, we saw three other janitors chuckling at us. We ran, hard, laughing the whole way. No matter what we’re doing, things always get weird when I’m with my friends.

♦Focused people are fun to watch. They barely ever stop what they are doing. People writing are usually very focused, unless they stop to look around the room and think, racking their brains for inspiration. They hold a certain position throughout the drafting; elbows on or off the table, legs crossed or not crossed, etc. They barely ever notice you watching, and they barely give you a glance if you do.

♦Things that I say seriously (my form of sarcasm) that people laugh at, which sometimes makes me angry because I am serious:

· “I’m gonna screw up the face of the person who stole my backpack. So bad, their family won’t even recognize them.”

· “I hate people like that. They think they’re better than everyone else. But will they be successful? No. I’ll just let karma gnaw at their souls.

· “Care Bears are beastly. When I get old and rich I’m gonna make a Care Bear mansion. Or maybe I’ll just be a crazy cat lady and name the cats after Care Bears. Who knows?”

· “Screw it, I don’t care if they’re called the hill toppers, they need outdoor escalators!”

· And in response to their muffled laughter, “Shut up, it’s not that funny!”

Vampy

2009-07-07T14:27:00.000-05:00

Yesterday the most amazing thing happened to me! Every day after class
we have to sign up for an optional where counselors have several activities to
choose from and we pick one and sign up for it. I wanted to do capture the flag
but by the time I got there to sign up all the spots was filled. My next choice was
Chalmer’s challenger. When the activity started we had a contest to see who
could jump the farthest. I didn’t so well in that event. The next event was to see
who could do jumping jacks the longest. After ten minutes Harry called the event,
and I was still jumping! The next event was to see who could stand on one leg the
longest. Harry called this event after five minutes and I was still standing! The final
event was a race to Guthrie, but we had to skip. I came in third place and after the
points were added up I came in second place! I won five nature valley, but I didn’t
eat them because they were almond. I now think vampy is more awesome than before.

Why vampy is awesome.
1) Because I came in second in Chalmer’s challenge
2) Because vampy counselors are secretly C.S.I. people
3) Because here they play Mao
4) Because Nickol is here
5) Because writing is taught by a boulder

At vampy it is just like going to college. Living on campus in a dorm, and
being responsible for being on time took me out of my comfort zone. It showed
me what is like to be grown up. For example one day I forgot to wear my nametag
so that day I didn’t get to eat lunch. Since that day I haven’t forgot my nametag.
Vampy teaches every student that attends it responsibility. It is fun for me,
because you get to participate in many different activities such as Chalmer’s
challenge, the war of 1812, and kickball. Getting to live with a roommate was also
a very exciting experience for me. At home my brothers have moved out so I
normally get everything my way. At vampy I had to work out a schedule on who
gets to take a shower when and who does this or that. I didn’t get everything I
wanted. The writing class I took pushed to do things I never thought possible. I
learned so much about writing in that class. Vampy was a one of a kind
experience.

Things that might be in Cameron’s backpack.
1) The game of clue
2) Silver, shiny objects
3) Chains
4) Santa’s sleigh
5) A lot of chocolate candy

At vampy one of the many things I learned was never under any circumstance make a counselor mad. It’s also a bad idea to make your teacher or your teacher’s assistant mad. If you do make a counselor mad though make it sure it’s not Corey. You do not ever in your lifetime want to make him mad. When Corey is mad it’s not pretty, and people get punished for whatever it was they did. I myself am trying to play it safe and not make anybody mad.

What might be in a counselor’s room?
1) Books on how to take care of children
2) Big screen TV’s that can hide inside their walls
3) Computers just to make students mad
4) Bags and bags of candy
5) cases of soda

2009-07-07T14:17:00.001-05:00

Things I dislike:
1. Arrogance
2. Mean people
3. Getting lost
4. Loud startling noises
5. My bed (always attempting to push me off)
6. Smokers (slowly killing all around them)
7. Stains
8. Thieves (I need to say no more)
9. Being kept in the dark (not literally)
10. Ignorance

I recall a time a while back where we were in a forest near a river. When we saw a large mossy branch spanning the gap we decided to cross it. I went first, slowly and carefully, testing each step before I moved. I got across with no problem and went back across quickly having memorized the safe steps. Another person then went and having watched me carefully had no problem crossing walking quickly across and back. The last companion grew cocky. Having seen the ease in which we made it across he strutted proudly across slipping halfway. He fell right into the shallow river after banging his knee on the tree. He was unharmed but learned a great lesson.
One thing I absolutely can’t stand is the ignorance some people live in and refuse to do anything about. I understand that people can’t help not knowing some things but when they refuse to hear any other opinion my respect for them lowers considerably. A good example of this is racism. They may have been taught it from birth but most are given a chance to learn differently and are later taught differently but many foolishly refuse these opportunities.

As I sit and look back upon my life I am stunned to realize how quickly time passes. I can still remember the emotions I had before by brothers birth the excitement to have my brother but also the fright of change then after the occasional annoyance at him but always unconditional love. Even though 7 years have passed and my brother is able to have intelligent conversations it still seems like only a week.

Stupid things people do:
1. Have competitions to see who will pass out first from holding their breath( I never understood this)
2. Kick each other’s shins until one gives up( same here)
3. Demolition derbies
4. Throw things at each other
5. Jump off of high objects (quite fun)
6. Drugs (the worst of all)

I recall a time when we were in a historic arms museum in Louisville. There was a wedding reception on the top floor and people putting on reenactments on the other 4 floors. My dad went out to get a gift for the couple from the car when something caught my brother’s eye. It was a red box on the wall with a white lever in the middle, His curiosity intrigued, he pulled it. Immediately the loud wail of the fire alarm penetrated every floor of the building and the museum evacuated accept for the top floor where everyone saw and laughed. My dad finally came back only for him to be denied entry by a man sweating heavily in a suit of armor when he asked what happened the man only muttered about some kid pulling the fire alarm.

One thing that I often think about in my school is religion. We have almost every religion in my school and I often get a group together to discuss it. Some of my best friends are the most diverse. In my group I know Muslims, Agnostics, Atheists, Catholics Baptists, Buddhists and others that don’t even know what their religion is called!!! Many a lunch time have been spent comparing different religions and discussing differences and we have discovered that there are very few differences in the main themes of the religions and they mainly differ in details. Rather odd how wars have been fought between these similar groups.

It was my second game of Mau and having already learned the rules I was laughing at the confused faces of the beginners as the piled card after card on their hand. One person In particular stood out when she began panicking and went nearly totally brain dead. She called a point of order and in all seriousness held up her card and asked what the diamond in the corner was called.

Food that should never go together (all from experience but only few from my own.):
1. Ketchup and any other food
2. Same with mustard
3. Cheetos and jelly
4. Squash and raspberries
5. Salmon and chocolate
6. Dog cookies and sugar.

MAU Haiku

2009-07-07T14:15:00.000-05:00

All hail Chairman MAU,
A new game has now begun,
Put cards down, much fun.

Many penalties
For the new MAU players
So much confusion.

Pass card to the right,
Player groans in frustration
Veterans laugh much.

Card bring merriment,
When the Boulder says diamonds
For the suit of spades.

When I play an Ace,
The person beside me is sad,
The game continues.

Two of hearts is played,
We all go around again,
New player is learning.

Now we finally,
Understand this fun fun game.
It is my last card.

This great game of MAU
Is now commenced and all hail
Our awesome Chairman.

Nerd Camp

2009-07-07T13:55:00.000-05:00

Listening to the bell tower reminds me of sitting in the shade of a tree with my friends Suzanne, singing Beatles' songs. We'd sing very loudly and very off key, but still didn't stop. There's always be a light breeze every now and then, which did no good when the sun was so close to the earth.

OPTIONAL ACTIVITIES I THINK SHOULD BE INCLUDED AT VAMPY:
-Candy eating/making. The making part so that I could eat a lot of candy in the future.
-Bracelet making so I could actually do something cool for once.
-Rockah writing.
-Capture the magic.
-Beatles' yellow submarine, where all you do is sing Beatles' songs.

I really dislike when people sign up for an optional, then go there and do NOTHING. You get to chose the activity you would like to do, but it's mandatory that you actually do it. I try to involve those kinds of people but sometimes it just doesn't work.

OTHER THINGS I DISLIKE:
-Multitasking, because I can't do it.
-People who think they know everything pr think they are better than everyone else.
-Hypocrites.
-Being touched. I flinch a lot.
-Nosy people.
-Anticipation, I'm not patient.

The very composition book I'm writing in now was read by someone who didn't ask to read it. A group of people picked it up and read it because they just couldn't help themselves. Invasion of people's privacy is very rude. Their life is THEIR life. After I had found out what they had done I smacked them on the head with the very composition book I'm writing in now.

For a camp, there is a lot of drama. Not just between the campers, but the camp counselors too. It's sad that people that come from all over the world because they are all very smart, still judge each other just so that they can feel better about themselves.

It seems common for all the people here to do something weird, that you wouldn't normally do in the real world. One of the kids here wears goggles on his face everywhere he goes, everyday. But that doesn't make him and less smart. Another kid is only 10 years old and he's just as smart as the rest of the kids. Everyday someone will ask, "Why do you do that?" Obviously, they do it because they want to, or because they like to. I like the fact that everyone here is either unique or different in their own way.

GAMES COMMONLY PLAYED AT VAMPY BUT PLAYED NO WHERE ELSE:
-Mao
-Monocle game
-Darts
-Magic the Gathering
-Capture the flag

What I love most about VAMPY is that you can just be yourself. Yes, some mean things happen, but for the most part people are very nice and understanding. It shows everyone that they're not alone, and that the world isn't always so cruel.

The Day of Great Joy and Great Tragedy

2009-07-07T13:54:00.000-05:00

Proem Three

Still no Interwebs!
The sad Boulder laments -- bird
unable to tweet.

Monday saw our class' journey into prose, and an arduous journey it was indeed. We spent a peaceful morning writing, warming up to the haibun by composing waka to send to our parents and friends on postcards. Once the postcards were addressed and ready to go, it was time to return to the haibun. We journeyed to the computer lab to type and post haibun, and printed them out for peer workshop later in the afternoon. Then, it was time for lunch.

We've been talking a lot about Robert Bly's theory of the leap, and about the great power held in the juxtaposition of images, especially images and ideas that are, in some sense, opposite to each other. The afternoon was, in some sense, an illustration of this, as we came back from our delicious lunch of fried chicken, green beans, potatoes, and ice cream from the newly-repaired ice cream machine to find a disturbance in the classroom (and in the force). Thankfully, the students managed to rally together and handled the situation with the kind of maturity and grace rare in people twice their age. They're an amazing and impressive group, that's for sure.

We spent most of the afternoon workshopping haibun in pairs, and then moved from poetry to prose with our study of another traditional Japanese form: the zuihitsu. The zuihitsu, or miscellany, is a bit like a tenth century version of a blog: it is a journal, but written for an audience: it's meant to be read, and not just by the writer. The term translates loosely as "following the brush," and is meant to indicate the kind of associative writing associated, in the West, with free-writing. We read several selections from Sei Shonagon's witty, wry, and remarkably relavent Makura no Soshi, or The Pillow Book, a zuihitsu completed in 1002 which describes court life in the Heian period. From their examination of this text, the students determined correctly that the zuihitsu typically contains three basic types of prose:

Random reminiscences and narrative
Observations, examinations, and social commentary
Literary lists

Then, after a difficult day, it was time for a little fun. During study hall, while some students finished reading The Pillow Book, others attempted to teach a very confused Boulder the card game Mao, which seems to be as intricate and ritualized as court life in Heian period Japan, particularly because one cannot actually talk about the rules of Mao. After everyone finished reading The Pillow Book, we gathered together for another game of Freeze Frame, in preparation for our playwriting unit. Important lessons learned during this game include:

Beward of slushies -- they might be compsed of ground chuck
Don't shoot panda bears
Don't leave VAMPY campers and TAs alone with babies
When more than three people participate in Freeze Frame, the real fun begins

Tomorrow, we get down to the business of the zuihitsu!

Ziuhitsu

2009-07-07T13:51:00.003-05:00

When laying on the ground

When lay down on the bare ground everything feels so much bigger. The grass is tall and you feel as though you are seeing things as a rabbit or other such animal would see, You feel grounded and close the nature. You feel the dirt under your hands and you know that you are a part of the Earth.

On the Matter of Dogs
Humans tend to say that we are better and more intelligent than common animals such as the dog. I disagree. If we were better than dogs then why do we take more than we need? Why do have wars among our own kind? Though I may be as guilty of these as the rest of our sad race at least I can admit it. Dogs are said to be “man’s best friend.” Do we treat them as their title suggests we should? No.
We abuse dogs, neglect them and throw packs of them out on the street to die. We have so much that we could learn from them and yet we treat them like garbage.
Dogs are kind to everyone. They will love and trust anyone. They obey their master, and they take only what they need. Humans on average are kind only to their inner circle and don’t trust many people. We love few and are stubborn and willful. We overuse our resources and are killing ourselves and everything else along with the planet we live on. To hell with humanity if this is what it stands for.
There is no such thing as a bad dog; there is only the human who teaches it.’

Things that disagree with nature
Tearing down forest so humans can live in the excess that we take away from others
Lone wolves
Enslaving wild creatures to serve our own wants
Killing an endangered species
Causing a species to go extinct
A squirrel in New York

Central park, New York, an oasis amid the tall, smog emitting buildings and factories. Tall trees and lush grass blanket it, except where masses of humans and human constructions huddle in the scarce shade. Two squirrels sit together beside a tree. One takes a fragment of nut from my hand. It saddens me that they have been corrupted to trust my kind.

On the subject of clouds

A boy lay looking at the clouds. They turned pink, purple and a striking orage as he watched. He then realized how beautiful nature could be.
Beautiful things
The sky at twighlight
A mother holding her child
Roses with dew drops on them
Dark rain clouds
Koi fish in a pond
The stray dog
Mothers say to their children, “Stay away from that dog, you don’t where its been!” While the second part may be true shouldn’t at least help lost creatures home? I was forbidden to go near it. I fed it and it left shortly after. I was punished.

Annoyances
Mosquitoes buzzing
Bee stings
Spider bites
Bitter plants
Tame Cats

On the matter of wild creatures
I believe that wild creatures should be respected by us and be left to be free. They should have no feces to contain them besides what had been made by the Earth to keep them where they need to be.

Gettysburg

2009-07-07T13:48:00.000-05:00

Four score and seven years ago
I defeated my midwife in
A blindfolded knife-fight.
I am a phiillanderer, a lothario,
And a lover of fine teas.
My people call me Honest Abe;
My friends call me just Abe;
My mother dressed me like a girl
And called me Ernestine.
I was not born in a log cabin,
But in the unforgiving jungles
Of Nicaragua.
Now I am in a great Civil War,
Testing with copious amounts of litmus paper
Wether lemons on a sunny day
Can long endure.
But, in a larger sense, we
Can not dedicate -- nor educate --
Packs of wild dogs
To these brave men.
Having perused countless charts
And graphs I decree that
This nation, under God for
Political reasons but geographically
Under Canada, shall have a new
Birth of delicious club-style sandwiches
Made of the people, by the people,
And for the people,
Never to perish (by way of sodium benzoate.)

2009-07-07T13:25:00.000-05:00

We began our great quest for enlightenment in a classroom. Many people waved farewell wishing they could come. We dropped off one companion on a stop for rations and headed towards a giant cave.

Our ride took us away

Early in the morning

Headed on a quest

We soon arrived and ventured underground. Then after appropriating the proper tools we went to a river leading into darkness. Where (rocking back and forth) we set off.

We took a boat tour

Through an underground river

Into the darkness

A piercing beam of light shone through the black, illuminating certain features of the cavern for all to see. As I gazed around at the unparalleled beauty, our guide explained about the luck of cave kisses. As my fellow companions were hit by these water droplets, I studied the stalactites on the ceiling and received a sharp surprise.

Cave kiss in my eye

It’s very very painful

So much for good luck

We soon encountered an obstacle upon the road…or river actually. A giant dam refused us entry. After determining this manmade structure as impassable we sadly turned back. Much to my regret we were unable to continue on to the wonders we could see beyond.

There was a large dam

We couldn’t continue onward

It was disheartening

It was then that I noticed the temperature in the cave. I shivered as I gazed around. After thinking a while I realized that I should have worn warmer clothing. Even through my discomfort I refused to tear my eyes away from the sights surrounding me.

The temperature was cold

My short sleeved shirt was way too thin

I almost froze

We soon exited our vessel headed toward light and warmer weather like moths drawn to a flame. As we left I noticed with a fright, rusted gates that could easily trap us in. I passed these with a sigh of relief and imagined prisoners wasting away behind the bars.

I noticed as we left

The exits were all barred

Like a dark prison

We exited into a bright forest, the warm sun shining down on us. After wandering the trails we came upon a glass house on top of a hill. As we entered, due to the number of butterflies, it seemed as though the very flowers were taking flight around us and, in some places, doing other things. Upon feeling a tickling on the back of his head one companion swatted reflexively possibly harming a butterfly.

After the cave tour

We went to the butterfly house

One became injured

We soon left and after eating visited a trinket shop where we found that money actually can grow on trees formed in the shape of crystals. After wandering around a while I came upon a door marked Batman. Excited about seeing the local hero, I opened the door only to be disappointed by a latrine.

I found the bat cave

The sign definitely said batman.

It lied to me

Lost River Cave

2009-07-07T13:23:00.001-05:00

I started my journey at nine’ o’clock, when my bus arrived outside my door.
I quickly ran outside and boarded the bus. It was a long boring trip until we
reached my destination. It was so boring that I would’ve rather gone to a ballet
than take this trip. I saw everything you could imagine outside the window of the
bus. I saw stop signs, pedestrians, and even a couple accidents. I was part of one
of those accidents but wasn’t hurt.

I boarded the bus
And then my journey began,
One I won’t forget
-Taylor Evans

I finally arrived at Lost River Cave, exhausted from the long nights spent
awake on the bus seat waiting. I unstably walked what seemed like an eternity
until I came upon a hill. I stopped and looked down the hill and couldn’t see the
bottom so I decided to stop here for the night. Soon morning came and I felt
better after resting for a couple hours. I decided to try and walk down this tall
steep hill. So I started walking down slowly, but it didn’t work I tripped over a
branch and rolled down the hill. A couple minutes later I found myself lying at the

bottom of the hill with scratches on my arms and legs. After I stood up and
brushed myself off I found a hole of water called the blue hole. I began to study
the water and noticed it wasn’t blue. So I thought to myself why would they name
it the blue hole if it’s not blue? I thought a little harder and figured it must have
not been blue because it wasn’t getting any sunshine. This made me sad because
what a story that would be to tell your children, I once saw a blue hole. I was also
looking forward to seeing a blue hole.

The blue hole is green
because the sun is not shining
this makes me really sad
-Taylor Evans

I walked a little farther down the road and stumbled upon a old boat in the
middle of the river. I boarded the boat and rode it through a small tunnel like
cave. I hit my head several times on the roof of the cave. It was very short. Once
I made it past its smaller parts the cave opened up and became quite large.

I boarded the boat
And rode into the cave
Not knowing what’s ahead
-Taylor Evans

After the cave opened up I noticed some big rocks. There was even
this one rock shaped like a head. There were also steps in this cave, but I didn’t go
up them. I also noticed it felt like it was raining on me but I didn’t know how it
could rain in a cave. I continued on down the river in the cave until I came upon a
dam so I turned and went back.

As I rode by the rocks
Water drenching my possessions
I slept cold that night
-Taylor Evans

I turned my boat around, and was on my way out of the cave. I passed by
the jagged rocks and the short roof. I hit my head a couple more times on the
roof, and floated out of the cave and down the river.

I made it through the cave
Half my things ruined from the water
But I made it out
-Taylor Evans

I got out of the boat and walked upon what looked like a deserted shack. I
walked inside and found beautiful flowers everywhere. I found a bench to sit on
and watched butterflies for at least twenty minutes. They were flying, mating, and
doing whatever else it is butterflies do. The more I watched them the sleepier I
became.

Butterflies mating
And flying around everywhere
They make me feel tired
-Taylor Evans

The journey home is not as hard as the one here, but still yet is a challenge.
As I walked up the last hill before reaching the bus I felt like lying down and giving up because my legs could barely stand the strain of walking up so many hills. I made it up and got on the bus though.

The way back home is
Not as hard as the one here
But still a challenge
-Taylor Evans

Lonely Haibun (EXTREME* 210 exageration)

2009-07-07T13:18:00.000-05:00

I stood on the edge, waiting. I was hoping that someone would come over here so that I didn’t have to leave my safe spot on the wall. I was too afraid even to take a single step until I knew that someone was there to take me away from here.

When I came to school I had expected the worst. Years of watching t.v. had fueled my overactive imagination. It wasn’t all that bad really but I was still scared out of my wits.

Lonely green ivy,

Standing on the tall brick wall,

Don’t be afraid to fall.

Spring break, my first, was now over. We were moving into the summer months. I didn’t know why but all of the people that had befriended me had started to leave me for others more and more often. Once again I was left on my own.

Beautiful flowers,

Budding anew in the spring,

But summer brings death.

Finally in the fall, my friends began to include me again. I was very wary though, now that I know what they do. I am so watchful for a sign of danger that I tire greatly. I had trouble sleeping from this point on. One of my friends asked me to cut class with her. I refused and then neither she nor her friends will talk to me anymore.

Lonely tree, standing still,

Why do you not join them,

In their deadly games?

Eventually I began to notice a pattern in the way people behave. Hannah only hangs out with Tori. Megan, Amber, and Lily all sit together at lunch. Cliques. They all tried out new kids and if they didn’t fit in, the new kid was tossed aside like rubbish.

For do we all know?

All in this world are alone,

Even in their cliques.

I was exhausted. Almost to tired to move. I avoided my parents as much as possible and I was ignored by everyone in school except for one girl. It shames me to say it but I tried to push her away many times. I figured if everyone else stayed away from me maybe I deserved it. Maybe there was something wrong with me.

Sun beats down on me,

Burning my forsaken flesh,

What is my purpose?

My grades were suffering as we moved back into spring. I no longer cared. My parents never noticed what I was subconsciously tried to tell them every day. I was invisible to everyone at school, even the teachers. I was afraid of light. I thought that if I was touched by it, God would strike me down. Instead it seemed like he was ignoring me too. Pain was the only thing that made me feel better emotionally. I never self-mutilated myself but I did seek out ways to hurt physically.

Forever in blue,

Grey skies never enough,

Pain is my solace.

Saturday comes. I can’t move. I was so tired of everything in my life. My mom comes in with a Harry Potter book and lays down beside me. We read to each other. I decide to try harder to connect and reach out to people if only for her sake.

Fledgling bird, in her nest,

Mother comes home just to rest,

Snuggle beside her.

A Journey to the Lost River Cave

2009-07-07T13:15:00.000-05:00

Around 9:30 we loaded the bus to make our way to Lost River Cave. It took about 10-20 minutes.

The Blue Hole

The first thing on the tour was the Blue Hole (Blue Hole #4). The tour guide told us all these interesting stories and amazing facts about the river. One story was about how it got its name, which also goes into the other story about how the river was deemed the deepest and shortest river, 437 feet deep and 350 feet long before disappearing into one of the country's largest cave entrances, it being 437 feet deep gave it the name bottomless, and there is calcite in the water so when the Sun hits the water it makes it look blue, Blue Hole. But the river was measured by some students from Western Kentucky University and came out with an astonishing number of 15 feet deep.

The Blue Hole is blue
There is calcite in the hole
That is why it's blue

Getting Ready for the Boat Tour

As we were making our way down the hill, the tour guide told us some more stories and facts about the cave we were about to enter. About how it was a night club, there used to be proms and dances here and there still is sometimes, also the river eventually became the city's favorite dump/junkyard. People would throw just about anything and everything in there, cars, ovens, stoves, washers, dryers, mattresses, TV's couches, chairs, everything it must have been disgusting getting all of that stuff out. I wouldn't be surprised if they had found some bodies down there.

There was night club
The river was used as a dump
There were proms there sometimes

Boat Tour

We're now on the boat tour, and the tour guide is pointing out stuff and telling us about it. She points out this one rock that looked kind of like the Kentucky Wildcat or Chester the Cheetah. There were a couple other too one was a buffalo and another one was a pig.

Now we're in the cave
It's raining on us, Oh Dear!!
Cave Thunder is loud

We made it to the dam and we're making our way back to the entrance. She's telling us a story about Jesse James the outlaw and how this cave was one of his hideouts. But the creepy thing was there was this rock that looked just like a human. There was the hair, chin, mouth, nose, all the facial features it was crazy. There also was a mummy and a bonsai tree that took up a good portion of a cliff side, the whole cave was just amazingly crazy. Let me not forget about the story she told us about four Civil War Soldiers taking a swim in the Blue Hole and how only one came back.

Civil War Soldiers
Three of them died in the hole
Where did they go, ooo!?

Butterfly Habitat

We're finished with the boat tour and we're now on our way to the lovely Butterfly Habitat. The Butterfly Habitat is such an amazing, marvelous, peaceful place. There were so many noteworthy butterflies.

The orange butterflies
With some black & white to them
They are so pretty

Not to mention the butterfly romance in the air. There was so much love the butterflies shared between each other, chasing each other from plant to plant.

There's butterfly love
It's in the atmosphere
Two lovers in love

Not only did the butterflies love each other but they loved the wonderful flowers in there too. I think the butterflies might have even adored them more than we did. They kept them pollinated, if I was a butterfly i would have too because they were so mesmerizing and beautiful.

Flowers are pretty
The butterflies think so too
Lost River Cave, YEAH!!!!!!!!!!

VAMPY Zuihitsu

2009-07-07T13:11:00.000-05:00

Definitions of VAMPY
-a camp for gifted students at WKU
-three weeks of hanging out with other smart people
-mandatory fun, MAgic, DUC, Preston
-amazing

Mao
I sit at the table on a warm Saturday morning, my first weekend of VAMPY 2007. Older ones ask if I want to play a game called Mao and I say, "sure". I lose terribly but learn much about this mysterious game of which the only told rule is that I cannot be told the rules. I win next time. All hail Chairman Mao!

First years
Too many first years. Little knowledge of traditions I have come to cherish. What's Paper Theater? What's a Schmoe?

Traditions
-Monocle Game -Paper Theater -Blue Burritoes -Mao -Mandatory Fun
-"It's the End of the World as We Know It (And I Feel Fine)"

Stagebomb!

Mid July 2008. VAMPY 2008's talent show began. After many so-so acts, two fourth-years, MAtt Manes and Thomas "Tombo" Lane perform "Cool Pineapple", a 20-minute mind-blowing, face-melting guitar odyssey experience tantamount to my first time hearing "Stairway to Heaven".
Then the MC finale skit began. PAtrick stood, then the opening notes of "It's the End of the World as We Know It (And I Feel Fine)", the main VAMPY song, played. He then waved as what seemed to be an invitation.
Dr. Julia Roberts and Head Counselor Corey Alderdice stood, paralyzed, after wave after wave of VAMPY campers stormed the stage as young soldiers charged an enemy position. "You vitriolic, patriotic, slam, fight, bright light, feeling pretty
psyched."

Corey
When Corey gets mad, hope disappears. Always.

People that remind of Corey when angry.
Chuck Norris
Marlon Brando
Arnold Schwarzenegger
Mr. T
The Incredible Hulk
Christopher Walken
a Velociraptor

MacArthur Park
July 4th, 2007. My first 4th of July Chamber Orchestra and Fireworks Show. There was patriotism, honor, remembrance, and cake left out in the rain. After various orchestral pieces, a single man stood, ready for the performance of a lifetime. In a booming, opera voice and with the backing of a full orchestra, he began to sing "MacArthur Park", it was so strange it was great and as memorable as the fireworks to the tune of the 1812 Overture.

Untitled
I'll never have that recipe again. I have a fever and the only prescription is MORE COWBELL.

VAMPY

2009-07-07T13:09:00.000-05:00

Friday all of us ( the class) went to Lost River Cave. Of course most of us got dripped on, each drip meant about a year of good luck. Unless your Cameron, then a drip in the eye is two years of bad luck.

Cave drops hit my head
That’s about 8 years luck
Good or bad I can’t say

The butterfly room is at Lost River Cave. As beautiful as the butterflies were they could not escape the screen box. At least, the people weren’t allowed to touch them.

Butterflies in a room
Freedom they will never see
Beauty locked in place

A journey in the past is not a journey at all, just a reminiscence. For one to never come to terms with one’s past is to deny themselves a future. Then again, what lies ahead for you probably happened to someone else.

Looking forward
Not often looking back
The future is ahead

I am thoroughly convinced that my iPod holds all the motivation I need for life. Music, one of the only things that can really make me want to move forward.

Music is what moves
What reverberates, speaks, or drives
For this I’m grateful

My paradise is Gatton, the academy. The challenge and company is more than I could ever hope for, and there is a chance to make a difference. Perhaps I could finally see my full potential.

What the world needs
Is something different
Not more of the same

VAMPY is not the real world, it’s better. The people I meet and what I learn have a much more profound effect than anywhere else. If home was like this I might never leave, which raises the question of where I belong more.

Is home where the heart is
Or where the mind lies
Maybe I’m there now

No one ever misses a journey, they’re on one every day. The worst curse possible is to know what will happen next. But you are allowed help.

I have not gone anywhere
Good luck with where your going
Maybe we’ll meet up

A mind is the most personal thing a person owns. Please don’t steal or sift through it without permission.

A mind is a closed book
Or a backpack full of memories
Both can be seen if opened

One night of freedom.

2009-07-06T11:04:00.000-05:00

I'm up at sunrise each day. Same routine. Never interrupted, never changed. Shower, get dressed, brush your teeth, do your hair. Played over and over in my thought. This day I went outside.

Scenery the same.
Déjà vu repeats itself.
It's time for a change.

Sanoma was my ticket out of the ordinary and into something new. She was the ticket to Lost River Cave. Tomorrow I would not have a routine, and everything would change. Excitement made hours long and restless.

Saved by a loved one.
See the things, believe the stuff.
Anticipation.

Sanoma and I took the trail to Lost River Cave. We came across arrive. The limestone walls were covered with Ivy. It has once been a cave and the ceiling had come down letting the sunlight in. At the start or the river was a lake. Green and blue depending on the sun rays. Sanoma decided she would cool herself off. She went under the water. And I waited and waited. Sanoma did not come back up.

Shaking earth creates.
Monsters and dead men are here.
The rumor is blue.

I followed the limestone walls that guarded both sides of me, making me feel like a prisoner of the fallen cave. They were dressed in Ivy. I stayed as close to the river as possible. The river still gleaming hints of blue and green, but I could see the bottom. I look up. Wood cabins are above me surprisingly. I look for steps; instead I see a rope going all the way up from where I stood to a cabin. I start to climb as I see the cabins better. They give off the look of abandonment. I search all of them anyway. I found no one. I stayed in one of the bigger ones. As I looked ou the window, I saw the mouth of the cave. The huge stone archway was covered with moss. I would have gone to the cave, but instead, I just laid down on one of the cots that has been previously used and drifted away to some far away fantasy.

Life is everywhere.
Even on the walls of stone.
Enough for one day.

The next day, I looked outside. It seems almost perfect. Sunny, full of life, maybe I could live here every spring. After I got dressed I went to the mouth of the cave. There were cool breezes blowing from somewhere. I couldn't tell which direction. The river still flowed right into the cave. I followed it in. It was dark but light from the mouth was bright enough to show the water stains at the top of the cave. The water stains showed that there has been a flood from the rover at least 30ft higher than the river was now. As I walked through the water, my feet kept bumping into rocks that were hidden by the knee high water. Then, my head hit something hard; I stumbled a little but caught myself before falling into the current. I put my hands in front of me. It was in fact a rock I hadn't seen because It was now too dark. I look in my bag and got a flashlight that Sanoma had left beside the lake before disappearing. I searched the cave with the light and saw that my head had hit the ceiling which had been lower than the ceiling before. I looked under and could see that it got higher a little ways through, so I trudged on through the river. When I got to the bigger part of the cave, it hit me that the cave was actually really cold. The wet clothes I was now wearing weren't helping at all. I felt something drop onto my face. It was water, and then another. It couldn't possibly be raining so I looked up and saw that water was dripping off the stalactites on the cave ceiling. I had heard that for every drop that landed on you, you got one year of good luck. They were called "cave kisses."

Spring feels like winter.
I'm being kissed in the dark.
I needed some luck.

I found a flat rock that was pretty high up, and decided to sleep there for the night. I was about to fall asleep when my stomach made this ferocious sound. I realized that I hadn't eaten for almost two day. I began to wonder what lived in the river. I shined my light on the water but it was too deep and dark to see what was in it. I went down from my platform to see if I could get a better look. I stood in the water and turned my flashlight off, until I felt something against my leg. I thrust my hand into the water as fast as I could and caught the tail of an eyeless fish. I waited for it to go limp, then proceeded to go outside so that I could make a fire and cook the fish. After my meal, I went to my platform and fell asleep. The next thing I knew I was tumbling and hitting my head on the ceiling. I couldn’t breathe. The water had flooded the cave and took me further in. I blacked out then woke up on the rocks on the side of the river. My back was achy, and it felt like someone was screaming into my ear. All my stuff was lost, and I was alone.

Getting a new meal.

Woke up to something scary.
The journey begins.

I couldn’t tell which direction I had come from. To the east, there was darkness. To the west, there was darkness. North and south were just the same. I felt helpless, but more in shock than anything. I didn’t know where I was, or what to do. I didn’t know what it was or when the next flood would be, which would surely be fatal. I sat and thought then started crying. The only think I had to look forward to was death. To my surprise, I heard a familiar voice. “Who’s there?” the voice whispered. “Sanoma?” I inquired. “Yes?” she asked back. WE both laughed lightly. We found each other in the dark. I told her I must be dreaming because she had disappeared and was impossible for her to still be here. She told me that when she had gone into the blue lake, a current had carried her all the way into the cave. I asked her if she had been eating the fish so she didn’t starve, but she said that she had been eating the crawfish that stayed on the rocks on the side of the river in the morning. I asked how she avoided the flood, and she told me how she had been staying in a crevice in the side of the cave and put a rock in front of it so the water couldn’t get to her. Yes, I was in danger of never getting out of the cave alive, but at least I wasn’t alone.

Lost in the darkness.
Me and my friend reunite.
Face death together.

We lived in the cave for a couple days until our escape plan was ready to be tried. Sanoma still has some of her stuff. We put on some high, thick boots and tied a rope to a rock right outside our barricaded crevice in the wall. We tied the ropes to our waists. We had decided we would go the direction of the current to see if there was an exit. We had 10 hours until the next flood came, but only 5 hours to find an exit so that if we didn’t, we could follow the rope back to safety. We walked in the river instead of on the rocks so we had a better chance of not tripping over something. We had only been walking for about two hours, and then saw an opening about 10 feet away. We started running and as we got out into the very bright, fresh, warm air, I woke up. I then got up, got in the shower, got dressed, brushed my teeth, and did my hair.

Minds of the new age.
Rope and boots of the new age.
Freedom of the new age.

Boredom

2009-07-06T10:54:00.000-05:00

By the people, bored
For the people, boredomness
Boredness, is the people

Bored Haiku

2009-07-06T10:53:00.002-05:00

I am really bored
So I'm just writing haiku's
Haiku's, bodacious

Poetrymen

2009-07-06T10:53:00.001-05:00

Poetrymen Unite!!!
"What happened this time, Haikuman?"
"Honestly nothing"

Hershey's Cookies & Cream

2009-07-06T10:51:00.000-05:00

Hershey's Cookies & Cream
They are such wondrously good
They are marvelous