song

This is kinda how I feel at the molment, as well it has a nice tune.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FRgQns-TJGM



You Don't Know Me Lyrics
By Ben Folds
I wanna ask you
Do you ever sit and wonder,
It's so strange
That we could be together for
So long, and never know, never care
What goes on in the other one's head?

Things I've felt but I've never said
You said things that I never said
So I'll say something that I should have said long ago:

(You don't know me)
You don't know me at all
(You don't know me)
You don't know me at all (at all)

You could have just propped me up on the table like a mannequin
Or a cardboard stand-up and paint me (paint me anything)
Any face that you wanted me
To be seen.
We're
Damned by the existential moment where
We saw the couple in the coma and
It was we were the cliché,
But we carried on anyway.

So, sure, I could just close my eyes.
Yeah, sure, trace and memorize,
But can you go back once you know

(You don't know me)
You don't know me at all
(You don't know me)
You don't know me at all (at all)

(You don't know me)
You don't know me at all
(You don't know me)
You don't know me

If I'm the person that you think I am (Ah ah ahh)
Clueless chump you seem to think I am (Ah ah ahhh)
So easily led astray,
An errant dog who occasionally escapes and needs a shorter leash, then
Why the fuck would you want me back?!

Maybe it's because

(You don't know me at all)

Ahhh ah
Ahhh ah

(You don't know me,
you don't know me.)

Ahhh ah
Ahhh ah

So, what I'm trying to say is
What (What?)
I'm trying to tell you
It's not gonna come out like I wanna say it cause I know you'll only change it.
(Say it.)

(You don't know me)
You don't know me at all
(You don't know me)
You don't know me at all (at all)

(You don't know me)
You don't know me at all
(You don't know me)
You don't know me at all (at all)

What?

(Mmmm, ohh oh
Ah ah ah ah ah
Aha ah ah ah
Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah
Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh
Aha ah
Ah ah
Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah
Oh-oh-oh-oh oh ohh)

Hats

Jesters hat: A fool, a complete idiot that need bells so that people can flee form him when he comes near. His horrid uncool-niss and his failure at jokes.

Shakespeare hat: Intelligence, inspiration creativity, floppiness, old, never makes sense, a fake, imitator.

Sailer’s hat: Polite, servitude, belonging, importance, protectiveness, nave, unknowing, questionable, tardy.

Peter pan’s hat: Gullible, imaginative, strong, loyal, forever youthful, leader, protector, immature, unknowing, flaky.

4-H hat: Strong, leader, unconformable, dependable, loyal, knowledgeable, busy, indecisive, poor public speaker.

The future

I have a good idea what I am going to do in my life yet some aspects are still fuzzy. I am going to become a chemical engineer I am going to go and live in Germany.I am going to go and help the 4-h club there But what I am going to do with he rest of my time, my life well I just don’t know. I really want to go and help out people even if I am alone I want to go to a little village and make them self sustainable and better educated. I will help the kids get through school but I just don’t know what do to or how to do it. The other thing is I really don’t know if I want to leave my family or not. Finally well all this I just don’t think I’ll have time for a wife, yet I really want children as well as somebody to be close to and to come home to every day, but really I don’t know if I’ll have the time and I doubt that I’ll meat anybody special in Germany and well if I get married right after college in the us I doubt she will want to go to Germany with me… and well I’ve seen way too many examples of the nice guys never finding any body. And well I really don’t think any body is interested.

articulation

Alot of the time I want to write, but the problem is I don't know what to say. Usually I have many ideas but usually I just don't know how to say them. Some tings are not good to say before an audience. Others should be spoken but are never.

Just a Small Town Boy

A normal summer night. Looking out his second floor window, he sees for miles and miles around, but does not want to see any of it. The rolling planes with there browning wheat and barley, and those green paches of the squash that has yet to be ripened. To some this would be paridice away in a small town where every body knows your name, the cute little picket fences on houses of your friends. The quaint central square and the barbershop where all the men go every Sunday to get there beards trimmed. he walks away form the window, and head to his bed. Pickign up his summer reading book he has oly a week to read and falls a sleep.
"Irve, Irve, Honey get up, get up you are going to be late. You don't want to be late on your first day of school do you?" Irve's mother says begrudgingly
Irve trudges down stairs and eats his Malto-Meal breakfast. He picks up his bag yells good bye and walks down the street. The high school of the town is not really a school in its self, but more of a K-12. Only 5 classrooms He walks into the one in the middle of the building. He then proceeds to the back of the class in his normal seat that he only has 2 more years in. looking around the furmiller classroom, he sees all the normal faces he has come to expect from this town. There was Jennie, The pretty one who never knew any thing the trew version of a farmers daughter. to her left and right were the Billians twins, long, lanky boys that just hit puberty last year and are still unaccustomed to there sises. over on the other side of the classroom was Hayley Putersmith, Irve's ex-girlfriend. she is always surrounded by friends no matter the situation. When she needs to use the bathroom at least 5 other people will ask for the bathroom at the same time just so she can walk down the hall with her passie. The other 20 or so kids in the classroom were scattered in there own little groups. They were every where, except in the desks surrounding Irve. Continuing to look around the room he sees the backboard with the name Ms. Riphe 10th - 12th grade.

Beneath the Oak

The wind blows fiercely, yet I remain. The leaves blow and make that soft wiper that is so often used to describe the wind. Dead leaves try to fall, but are instead swept miles away form there tree. The squirrels that are residents of the tree are bundled up in there little knot in trunk, twenty or so feet up. About 5 feet up on the magnificent oak is a ribbon with a bow. Being color blind I would not know its color, yet I have been told that it is yellow. Sitting here under neath it, I choose this tree because of the memories. I walk one hour through the forest I come here every day. It seems like it is the only constant in my life recently. My only wish is to be able to remember all the good and bad memories I have. I will not follow all my family, I do not want them to die again. Mom, so sweet, so caring. The way she baked those fantastic apple pies, or so I'm told. The way they drew crowds every time she baked them. I never knew her, dad brought me up. Such a kind dad, I remember when he tried to build my bike, such a failure! Every once in a while you had to remember to tighten the bolt on the handle bars otherwise when you turned them, the wheel on the font will not turn. Or that time where we were playing with my toy RC helicopter, and he souped it up to go faster. Well that did not end well when it went into Ms. Renolds's roses. It chopped them to bits, both of us were laughing on the floor when she came out. My sister took care of me when I was 10, when dad went back into service. She was so smart, but always on the job. My brother and I were always playing on the computer when she got home around 10. Striate to bed she told us both. We resisted but we did as we were told. When my brother turned 18, he when right in after my parents. So trigger happy in the games never got to touch a real gun, the transport he was on going to his first base hit a bomb. My sister was still strong. I haven't attended school in 3 years. I fell off the grid when my sister was shot at work. Turns out she was a CIA agent, how fun. Her and my record was wiped off the board when she interred the job. Shot in the back of the head at her desk doing paper work because somebody has it against the government. So I sit here, between the trees, beneath the oak, that every one in my family played in. Today is the last time I clime it. I untie the bow on the trunk, and clime. The wind rips the ribbon out of my hand and ketches on a branch. I get it and hop on to the lowest branch. I tye a bow at one end and a loop at the other and jump. Now every one in my family as died twice.

When Do You Die

When are we dead? Is it when our spirit leaves (spell check things I meant to spell elves) our body? Is it when our heart and brain stop working? I really don't think so. I think we stop living at 2 points in our lives. Yeah I know how do you die twice, well in my book you can. The first way to die for me is when you live for nothing. You have no goals in life, when you don't look forward to anything. The second way to die in my books is not your natural death, no, it is for me when you are no longer remembered. When your name and gravestone are wiped clean. When nobody hears your name, nobody remembers your deeds. I know I have tones of dreams that will never ever happen but this is what I hope to achieve. Helping a town or village so I ( I know this sounds really vain) am remembered. I really don't want to be remembered for the bad things I've done. I want to make a positive difference in some way. But some times I believe that I try too much. Being a cook for The S.S. as well as trying to become an all star for 4-H going to try to make things for 4-H so I am remembered.

Attempt at a poem

In the darkness there are creatures
So fierce so hateful,
These animals seem to be off the bleachers
Having cloths very colorful.

Now you sit there, doing nothing
As you hope for things to change.
You sit there behind your window hiding
Leaving you as shortchange

In those beast that look at you,
They find a target so difficult to miss.
They find fun putting your fingers in a thumbscrew
You try to run and hide with the Swiss.

You try to run and hide
But sooner or later they will find
Your secret but then you drink chloride
All this a big plan they designed

These creatures get bigger and bigger
With the fear they instill in others
And you have to come up with an answer
Of how to throw them in the boilers.

After you get rid of them another thought
Comes unseen, the one you destroyed
Is the one you looked for and sought
But they see your feelings and void.

But look now you are here with friends,
There love is confused and tangled,
And then anger and confusion ascends
Then the relationship becomes pickled.

But the truth of the matter is underneath it all,
It comes back to the beasts in hues
That made you jump and fall,
It turns into a huge bruise.

The death of a salesman

There once was a man named Steven. He was a salesman. He was happy, he died.

"Maybe this is a good thing." he said hopefully

Failed stories form me not knowing where to go next

The room was dark when she first saw it. It was beet up and old, but she wanted really badly. only 7 years of age it stood taller then her, and wider, but she had to have it. "Please, Please mom bye it please!" she begged. Moments later they sit down and listen to the auctioneer auction off a few pieces that were donated. The first vase goes for 4 dolors. The auction goes on and continues to get bugger items. Two items away and she whispers in her mom's ear pleadingly, "I'll pay for it if you get it now. I'll do all the dishes for a year please, please!" Her mother tiered of hearing this says ok. moments later after the French Horn was sold for 300 the piece she wans comes on. made of rosewood with wonderful feathering. Solid brass toners and Jagger strings, a real beauty. Her mom bids for the starting price of 50 and that is what it goes for. it is brout down the isle to there row and handed to them. An hour later the auction ended and people were leaving, lights were raised. Up close now in her hands she sees dents and discolorations, chips in the neck and a taped together bridge. The base was heavy, almost too heavy to lift. She is still excited. she lodes up her mother's station wagon with a few vases and plated then carefully puts in her new instrument.

That week was hard on her. She has never seen so much work even of she is only in 2nd grade. She was struggling in school. she could not spell and was always off in space her teachers tell her parents. She does have a natural gift of being able to copy anything like it was her own. That weekend she was tiered, But still found the time to look at her new instrument. Looking over every inch of it and its beautiful wood. looking at its stings slowly plucking each one as it lay in the floor. looking in its openings along ether side of the old bridge she saw something like a signature, but it was really faded. bringing out her flashlight she lights up the inside. She made a copy of the signature on a piece of paper. She sets the paper aside and starts to tune it to her dad's electric tuner. it was in really bad shape tunign wise. It took her a while but in the end she got it. then she set aside the instrument and looked at the bow. The bow was in wonderful condition the rosewood looks almost the same as the instrument. The hairs on the bow were not in good condition sadly. she picked up a few sort sheet music for the bass the next day with her parents songs such as Marry Had a Little Lamb and the Itsy Bitsy Spider. She could not get any more because she needed to have her bow re-haired, but sadly she or her parents did not have the money to do so. after a few weeks she mastered the songs and got bored of the instrument so she put it in her closet where it sat.

10 years later she came across it in the back of her closit.




It was a normal summer evening, nothing strange, and nothing particularly interesting.

White and Black

I am the white knight, yet never so brave. I would never run around on a horse and rescue fair maidens. I could never even lift a sword let alone swing it at dragon heads. Nor am I hansom enough to be able to win a ladies heart form her cruel keeper. I am a frog compared to a white wizard. So powerless and plane. I could never save a village let lone my self. I am the black king but I have no power to be corrupted with. I have no subjects to command or make bow down to me. I would never be so cruel. Or ever so clever to take power. Nor am I the dark lord, the mass killer wishing to purify classes. I could never be able to take a life, I even squabble at taking my own. With the dark lord is the ambition of living forever which I would hide from, for one life of normal amount of time is too much. No, I am none of these powerful symbol that are seen everyday. Nothing is as clean or smooth in the real world. Bad people don't turn good after seeing children, people lie to become more powerful. In this world we are pushed and pushed, we want to become known, we want to be seen in this huge world. Disney's song of It's a Small World After All no longer applies. True you see some people that you know or can relate to ever once in a while but not too often. Other images of our time is that you can do anything if you put your self to it, but no you can't. You need power, money to even make people listen to you, to hear you. We just don't have that all we have are ideas, some good, most bad.

Its all my fault!

Its all my fault! The only thing that is making me laph at the moment is the fact the the song "I like big buts and I can not lye" just poped into my head. The other song that is in my mind is:
"Pain"

Pain, without love
Pain, I can't get enough
Pain, I like it rough
'Cause I'd rather feel pain than nothing at all

You're sick of feeling numb
You're not the only one
I'll take you by the hand
And I'll show you a world that you can understand
This life is filled with hurt
When happiness doesn't work
Trust me and take my hand
When the lights go out you will understand

Pain, without love
Pain, I can't get enough
Pain, I like it rough
'Cause I'd rather feel pain than nothing at all
Pain, without love
Pain, I can't get enough
Pain, I like it rough
'Cause I'd rather feel pain than nothing at all

Anger and agony
Are better than misery
Trust me I've got a plan
When the lights go off you will understand

Pain, without love
Pain, I can't get enough
Pain, I like it rough
'Cause I'd rather feel pain than nothing at all
Pain, without love
Pain, I can't get enough
Pain, I like it rough
'Cause I'd rather feel pain than nothing
Rather feel pain

I know (I know I know I know I know)
That you're wounded
You know (You know you know you know you know)

That I'm here to save you
You know (You know you know you know you know)
I'm always here for you
I know (I know I know I know I know)
That you'll thank me later

Pain, without love
Pain, can't get enough
Pain, I like it rough
'Cause I'd rather feel pain than nothing at all
Pain, without love
Pain, I can't get enough
Pain, I like it rough
'Cause I'd rather feel pain than nothing at all
Pain, without love
Pain, I can't get enough
Pain, I like it rough
'Cause I'd rather feel pain than nothing at all
Rather feel pain than nothing at all
Rather feel pain
Well on that happy note. Yes I did tell them and I would not have changed it. You can shoot me now. Just don't go jumping in front of trains push me in front of one. Yes I would love to yell at you for your stupidity. But it is not all your fault! It's mine! So conflicted. 3 bubbles one of you talking of trains. one of you and him yelling at each other like theres no tomaro and then him telling me what he is going to post next. What he wants to say. I type STOP! Just stop log out he goes to bed. I ask if hes ok he says yes I ask really because the way he is phrasing things make it sound anything but, he then says I've never had this emotion before its good and bad but I don't know he departs I yell at her she goes. And here I am typing away about nothing just a little argument. The only things at stake are throwing her into further depression and accualy put a full hearty attempt in font of a train. Her family is in too much trouble she clames but if you think about it she would be doing things for her family and not be thinking of throwing her self away they love her but no she doesen't see that. He says we need to get together I fear the consequences not only because she want to talk to her if more things come out worse things will happen. It's very hard to keep a secret. It so much easer to pass it along. So hard to hide form your best friends. But every body has them. If you tell them you trust them. But what if the person you tell can take it. If he needs to tell it to somebody else to maybe ease the burden if in need of assistance advise. If they start screaming in each others faces some might be told he has so many things she I don't know about but she if she wants to if she sees fit if she sees its my fault she will probably do something I fear and scream it in his face something I've been keeping form all but 3. But the thing is what then after that. Silence lack of words but thats soon replaced by hate and fury and discuss and pain thats sure to follow. A new year nowhere to go...its all my fault. I fear I wouldn't see my nose for a while for it will be in a book.

Touch

Touch it is a weird thing. Only a few people can live without it the few distance themselves from society due to extreme pain in any form. Some become grouchy and irritable and their names became an adjective for being hostile and grouchy. Sometimes I wonder if maybe they have the right idea about distancing themselves to avoid further pain. On the other end of the scale are the tactile people. These people love the touch of another, they love to touch and feel. These people usually become engineers. The thing is most of the tactile people love to know and be in the middle of all the commotion causing more and more pain to the people around them without noticing or not even caring.

things

So many things I would love to scream in her face
but over all it is secrets what can not be told.
If I told her that would be worse case,
so I think I'll fold

Is it worth the fight?

What is good what is bad. All it is to me as apposing thoughts. Different countries thinking themselves better than the other, fighting. Friends thinking there right and the other is wrong. yet most of these things are foolish and can be avoided by just looking at the others side seeing what they have been put up with to see there motive then see if you still need to fight the war have the argument. But what causes these different points of views? Lack of common since? curtacy? what’s the point of fighting? Nothing good comes of it does it? All that comes is farther hate as well as despair hurt and different views. ack I feel so short in my posts now.

This is a story of a girl

The morning group so fantastic for her almost awake yet all 5 people extremely funny. Her boyfriend being a lot taller then she like to hold hands arms around each other hug a lot just side by side as they talk with the rest of the group. Yet when she talks she has to look up at him craning her neck way up. The others are his entire friends ’2 guys’ one girl along with her. One of the guys is extremely girly. Except she dresses like a stereotypical guy. He is one of her best friend she can tell anything to him anything at all. They did get into an innocent awhile back thow she was being rude and arrogant and he pushed her along the wall and gave her a huge scar on her leg. But soon after they got back and became closer in words not actions then before. In truth he and the other dude in that circle are the only 2 people that know that she is bi-sexual. She loves her boyfriend so very much so much more then she would another girl but still the other girl in the group is so beautiful, funny, and cute with her short puffy, luxuriously brown hair with green eyes that she would adore to have. Both girls talk online every once in a while into the night. The girl that the other one has a crush on is strictly Jewish. Both talk about boys and their friends and sometimes even more personal stuff. She is completely strait and unawhere of her feelings for her and she thinking that this might be better for the both of them. She hasn’t told her boyfriend yet and she doesn’t feel like telling anyone but the 2 boys in her group yet because she just doesn’t know who either her boyfriend will react or the other girl. So she sits there thinking in her room every night what will happen weather to tell them or not. But tonight was different. She got fed up with all this stressing out about them what would happen. So she told them. Her boyfriend looked shocked for the longest time. Then he pushed her out of his arms and left discussed with her. So she went crying over to the other girl’s house. Crying into her arms she wept and wept. As well as hoping her response would be a lot better than her boyfriends. so she looked into her face, so smooth as perfect, ad said, "I’ve liked you for a really long time I was wondering if you wanted to be more than just friends with me." she stopped as the face on her friends face turned to shock then to hare then to discuss. As she grabbed her arm led her to the front door and shoved her out locking her door. She was standing there all alone weeping. Rejected by the 2 she loved. So as she walked home in the dark she walked in the center of the street. She walked until a red sports car with a drunk driver hit her. The color of the pain showed no blood. As she got hit not much of a bump was made as her bones cracked as the car ran over her. The car kept driving and left her poor corps to be found in the morning by others. Family grieving, but nobody else would care about her and her poor legacy of truth and coming out.

Fish...

Fish! Fish! Fish! Fish! flipping floppily fishing mother fisher fishing off the coast of that fish fishing fish fish fish!...I felt like being clean...

Worry

I worry about you. What you have told and what you haven't. It's fantastic what you tell me. Yet sometimes its a shock. I worry about you and what you do and say, but any thing you say or do you will still be one of my best friends. i would also love to learn more until it hurts then more till it doesn't.

If you were a

If you were a boat where would you sail
If you were a boy where would you fail
If you were a house where would you be
If you were a eye what would you see
If you were a light where would you shine
If you were a cat where would you clime
If you were a computer where is your plug
If you were a mob who would you mug
If you were a dog what would you bark at
If you were a plane would you be flat
If you were you hopefully you would be with me

More Then Fine?

Is everything more then fine, NO it is not. everything is going great. Friends an I are getting closer then ever. Bonds are being remade others strengthened. For the past few nights one friend and I have stayed for hr. on the webcam talking or just sitting in each others virtual presence. Some times I wate to talk to ef. And it seems ever night I'm talking to lsd. And also if I stay up I get to talk to my girlfriend for a while. Every thing seems good in that sense. But there is no enjoyment any more. Nothing to keep things sticking. I've started 6 blogs posts but never finished one yet. It seems like my mood keeps changing. And you all know you have to be in the same mood to wright the same story. You have to be in a depressing mood to kill every body you have to be in a happy mood to make friends. But my moods have been fluctuating so much in that last few weeks. I haven't even been thinking strate. I've been doing so many stupid things such as talking about things inform of people that aren't even invited. I'm going to die because I don't think I'll be able to be mentally stable for a party and 2 projects this weekend. Tonight mv was video chatting with me then gave me a song to listen to. It brought back so many memories that I had to turn off the cam to cry. Its the song I associate with all of freshman year all its high and extremely low points. I love that song but all the things associated with it makes me cry each and every time I hear it. I haven't sat down and actually did homework in weeks I just keep procrastination I always find something else to do. Read a book play flash games go on my computer to chat all distractions. For weeks there I've read 200 page books each night starting when I got home till 2-3 o'clock in the morning. Getting away form the world. I sit here thinking what am I doing. scratching due to exama bleeding because if it. So much dyslexia in this post alone. So many grammatical and spelling issues. But thats me. Thats what I hate about me. I have no control any more. Nothing in my control the world just goes bye leaving me behind every day. I have no events nothing to really talk to you about I have no really sad depressing story I have no migraines that keep me up all night I have no journalistic instinct only Horrid memories Horrid emotions Horrid thoughts. At the molmet a few thoughts go through my head. Go to sleep you shouldn't be saying this, Doctor Who is tonight, maybe I should listen to every body just shut up shut up for good for ever, to just go to hell to leave them alone spair them the pain and misery or even take there happiness away by taking there victim. The blood feels nice spilling over my hands worm as my nails tickle my skin.

The Golden Parliament of Lost Civilizations

"Something new" decreed the prime minister. "something special. We need to be more formal. We need to inform the general public that we are here. It was our stories that they have read on this place, this wall. The only way to be heard form the other world. These stories you have posted are our culture, our superior culture. This is the reason we shut off our communication with them. They need to figure out things for them selves. But if you really want to keep posting happenings in this world at least give this credit"
Posting was a job all thows things and will be continued but now I am formally forced to give each story credit towards my small country of Camelot. Our small country was lost long ago due to the prime minister. He and a few other countries with him. Our culture naturally looked down upon the rest of the world. They are learning now what we learned over 4 century ago. So much opposition was there but it happened anyway. We still here news form the world we can hack into the internet like I am now but we are not permitted to venture outside the area of Lost Civilizations. Yes that is what our small group of countries are called. Our borders are closed to all life and death forms because of the constant bombarding of Kyopelinvuori which now surrounds our kingdom bnot over the bridge. Our world was section off form yours by our technology. we've created a worm hole to the planet of Nibiru. The Kyopelinvuori concurred Herning a decade ago and are now eating at out edges with no success. My job is a reporter for in The Lost Civilizations. Camelot is not the capital city of it no the capital city is in El Dorado. all the Representatives come to the city to have Parliament. It is in the most spectacular building overlooking the sea. made of pure gold and Gothic architecture with renascence towers and modern windows and translucent doors. Form the upper most tower siting on the mile diameter dome you can see all of Quivira and Cibole as well as the many island nations such as Meropis and Ys. Its the most beautiful place ever. I beet you think I'm making up the names but only the most brilliant civilizations have herd of us look up some of the cities and fined out how we disappeared. I'll past more about The lost Civilizations but I have to finish telling of Kenna and Geeno as well as the story of the Duke.
Yours,
Sorren of Paw
City of Camelot
The Lost Civilizations

death

People say there is too much death and unhappiness in my stories. But this is life. Death and life coexist and with out one there would be no other. But what happens after death nobody knows. People come up with beliefs and explanations going off of no hard facts. Usually religion tries to explain this. Religion helps society cope with unexplainable events such as death. It gives people hope and something to believe in. Religion helps society to grow and prosper. But personalty I disagree with there idea of death and the beginning. I guess it is just growing up on science. But having different leavles of heaven and hell. People begin divided up on past choices. personalty people are suppose to be created equal but then god divides them up? I really don't know what happens after death. I wish I knew. Is it just pure blackness? are you surrounded by others or is it a never ending sleep with so many dreams. But your mind your sole and emotions are all just chemicals and your brain which decay with your body. So do you stop existing all your 80 or so years for nothing? No reward for the unfairness the pain and misery we all face? Personalty I'm scared of death because I don't know whats going to happen beyond it. This is why religion is important.

boys

boys can just go die
thinking the world is just a pie
which they can divide up
and take like a new born pup

women are superior in more ways then one
and they don't get to have any fun
form the oppression of man
all they get is a lousy fan

boys with there things of steal
can not throw away an Orange peal
there stupid ways have caused harm
and even created nuclear arm

women are sensical and traditional
they know when to make things final
fight with one and you will loose
and you will not be waking form your snooze

men fight to impress
women like the empress
whal there wives wate at home
figuring out how to clone

men would be nowhere with out
women figuring every thing out
society would be better if
women through men over the cliff

only saving a few to pass
the traditions on by class
men need to die
so women can fly

The Court of the Gods

He woke up with a start. The giants below were yelling at each other. Some were weeping. The big giant in gold yelled for silence. His yell was so great that it shook everything. Dirt fell from where he was looking down. About 200 paces away the dirt hit and stayed on something. He saw this and went to examine the thing keeping the dirt up. It was glass he figured out, a glass staircase. He started to descend. It was terrifying nothing would hide him. The stair case went inward under the land he use to be on. He looked up it was beautiful. The whole universe and more painted on black marble. Constellations were painted on huge pillars holding up the ceiling. He realized with a squeak that it was the huge rock formation holing everything up, but down here it was carved ionic columns. It was in more in detail then in his home palace. The staircase came to one of the columns and spiraled downward. He looked at the column. Every few twists he saw a new constellation with the names of them. He descended farther. Almost to the bottom he saw one that was called Ashino. He stared at it. That was his uncle’s name. The king’s name he realized. He looked closer and saw a crown on the constellation head, a beard that was well known for being in on the kindest king of his time. It was the king he realized. The thought to himself they don't find constellation Wahl they are alive! What happened to him! He kept descending, then hit the floor. He ran to the closest side of the circular court with the pond in the center. It looked like the court of the temples. Large chairs in a horseshoe the largest one in the top of the horseshoe and 2 medium sized ones beside it. He was taken aback by the similarity of it. The court of the temples even had the same flower design in the back of the large seat. Then it stuck him. He read once that the court of the temples was fashioned to be a smaller duplicate of the court of the gods. He read that the architect that constructed the court of the temples was graced to come to this court to make one like it for all the followers of the gods. Each chair in the temple court was taken by the high priest or priestess of the temple of god they were at. He bet that was the same here but with the real gods. Suddenly with a sharp sound the gods started to go to their seats. He was in the way of the god of trees. He moved to the side without any notice and the old female god walked slowly by. They sat down and waited for something. He decided that he should be known by the right god. So he made his way along the edge to the head god. From what he remembered was that she was the leader and adorer of humankind. He got there after 20 minutes or so and steeped out. He yelled then bowed to the great goddess. They did not notice him. He yelled again even louder. Finally the god of plants, Rosenthron, noticed and said with a start something that he could not understand. The great goddess saw and was speechless for some reason that he could not see. It was a mix of disbelief, sadness, and shock. The other gods looked puzzled and murmurs went through the crowd of 12 not knowing what is going on. The Great Goddis spoke in there language to the others they quieted then spoke to him.

The Trees of Four Layers

He lay there, looking up at the sky. He looked and gazed all around him. It was a typical day for him, nothing more nothing less. He turned over on that grassy field he always went to after his work was done on his afternoons. He picked a small spring time daffodil that he saw. He said to himself that he would bring this back to his house and put it in a vase to make the place prettier. The truth is what he called a house was actually a small lean too made out of leaves and branches he found on the floor of the forest around him. It was a good enough shelter he put together. It was perfect for the climate. It was never cold where he was so he never made a fire. There was no need to luckily for he did not know how to start one if he needed one. As the wind blows form the same direction it always did from the south and north at similar strengths he got up. He casually strolled to his hut and walked inside. He put his flower in a ceramic vase and went back outside and sat leaning next to his favorite tree. As the winds blew leaves fell form it in all colors from bright crimson to deep yellow. As one fell onto his lap he looked up to the bright green buds of new leaves clearly showing and ready to put new leaves out. Some were just starting to turn to yellows and reds, wale others were a vibrate green of that you would expect from a tree in midsummer. Some branches were bare and snow covered. This tree was his favorite because it was the largest of all the ones around his little clearing. The others were all like it, but just smaller. As soon as he pushed the leaf off his lap it started to rain. It poured and pored. Lighting was heard so he ran into his lean too. Ever sense he was a child in the big city he was afraid of thunder. He ran away in a thunderstorm form his privileged life. In reality he was a duke and now was the only one who would be able to inherit the thrown due to the assassinations. He knew nothing of the frantic hunt for him. He vanished on the night that it occurred. People speculated he was the one that did it or that he was kidnapped and taken with the assassin. Nobody could find him. He was alone. No family, no friends, nothing to hanging onto in his life yet he stayed happy in his own clearing of weird weather. The pouring rain soaked the ground, and never made it muddy. When it did rain there were no clouds just the pure blue sky you would expect to see on a hot summer day. Tree tops were covered in snow. As they progressed downward there were the sessions in layers. He once tried to clime the trees. It was an interesting experience for each layer was its on weather. Clime up to the top it was snowing cold and you shivered. Down a level was pleasant, on the branches were new buds and so on. He was perplexed the first time he came into this clearing through the black marble arch. He tried to run back through when he saw this but he couldn't, he was trapped. When he came through the arch, the arch broke and the black marble leaked. All the colors leaked into the ground and into his hands, which is now in a small jar he found. The arch was now glass and cracked. Unable to work anymore the boy found he did not need anything. He was never hungry, never thirsty, never in need to go to the bathroom. The only thing that was not good about the place he stumbled upon was the constant voices. These voices were loud and over powering. Sometimes it was female and most of the time male. The only way to get rid of them was to stay in the clearing, there no voices came. Ever sense he discovered this he never ventured out into the surrounding forest. Today that changed, he was bored. As he climbed the surrounding hills the voices became louder. These voices never made any since they did not speak his native tong of Dikene but some other ancient langue with a heavy accent on the "N" and "Z" sounds. He walked and kept walking towards the voices. As he looked up the layers on the trees got smaller and smaller so did the size trees. As he wadded across a small brook the trees were only an inch taller than him. He kept walking then hit something invisible. It was a dome that was the height of the trees he realized. He waited there thinking of what to do next. He then saw a group of trees that were a mile down. These trees were huge where there should be only short trees. He headed towards the trees. When he got there it was starting to turn into the dusk, which was night. As he walked next to the dome he realized that there was the edge of the dome then, beyond that 3 feet further was a huge cliff going down all around that was black. As he walked he saw a strange rock formation. It was piled as high as the dome as if it supported it, but it looked as if there was a space between the dome and the rock so that could not be. Finally he got to the place with the trees. These trees were huge even larger than his favorite tree. He walked towards where the dome would be. No done was there protecting the edge of the cliff. He stood out on the edge and looked down. What he saw scared him. He jumped back. He saw a huge court below him. It was filled with giants of sparkling colors. He saw white marble, bronze, and gold all over. It was very clear that he was not supposed to see this. The giants were standing over a large pond in the center looking in. Curious he wanted to find a way down into the court its self. He felt it would be safe enough, for almost everything down there would be a hiding place. He looked for a way to get down. After an hour or so he gave up. He was extremely tiered so he leaned up to the 4 layer trees and fell asleep.

Born of fire

For Kenna life was good that week she was constantly with Geeno and he took care of her. He was the friend that Kenna never had. He showed Kenna how to get around Nadia and the front steps, how to have a good time at school. Kenna was extremely happy. All of her worries disappeared. The next week was far from that tho. On Monday at lunch Nadia came looking for her. Nadia was not happy. She was beaten by a kid at a game of baseball, Nadia’s profession. She started to call Kenna names getting her angry. But Kenna just stood there. Geeno told Kenna to run, to flee that he would take care of this. Then Kenna opened her eyes in a pleading voice she said, “No Geeno don’t I’ll just take it you go don’t watch, please.” Nadia seeing this was planning what to do. She then grabbed Geeno and started punching him calling to Kenna that his pain was his fault. Kenna was crying she pleaded with her to stop, “Kill me not hart him” she cried but Nadia did not stop. Kenna’s anger took over. It was more anger then she had ever experienced she ran up yanked Geeno out of Nadia’s arms and punched with all her fury. She knocked Nadia out and little to her knowledge that she was on fire and so was Nadia. She bent over and started to punch her over and over. Nadia was starting to bleed out of her mouth and soon she was turned to ash. Kenna stood and passes out on fire. A little while later Geeno awoke with all the school on fire and sirens in the distance. He stood slowly for he was in pain from being beaten. He saw Ms. Fung in her doorway dead, burned. Her beautiful blue eyes stared at Geeno in awe. He wasn’t on fire he wasn’t even touched by fire, he was cold. He looked to where he was flung from in the fight. There he saw Kenna lying on a pile of ashes. Geeno started to cry. He yelled, “No not again. No I won’t let it happen, I’m not loosing another friend” he ran over in excruciating pain to Kenna picked her up slowly and walked out. Caring her she was still on fire. She was on fire but not burning they made it to the doors and pushed out side. They were greeted by fire fighters in uniform rushing inside for survivors. They looked at them unknowing. They rushed by into the building. Water started to poor on the school putting the fire out. It did no help the school burned and burned nothing remained despite the firefighters efforts. Kenna did not stop burning. No she remained ablaze despite their efforts. The only one that could touch her was Geeno. He was the only one that felt no heat from her. As soon as the school fire went out she did too. She awoke 4 days later in a hospital with Geeno watching over her worried. Kenna sat up suddenly and she regretted it, she sat back down and Geeno got up. He went over to her bed and hugged her. She smiled so did he. He said, “Don’t ever get that angry again. Promise me”

relieving stories

In the room they sat, Geeno and Kenna, on the couch. Kenna eating a browny crying and Geeno listing. Kenna was telling Geeno what happened to her like how she and Nadia were once friends and that school was the least of her problems. At home her parents fought and drank and fought some more. Her mother was abusive. Her husband Kenna's dad was always the victim. But Kenna's dad did not like Kenna so he used Kenna as a shield form her mothers punches. She said, "When I came home today my parents saw my black eye. They started to yell at me. They took my books (she is very fond of her books as well as animals) and started to hert me. I didn't know who else to go to. I have no friends and you are so close. Can I stay here?"
Geeno thought for a while he then responded I'll have to check with my sister and her girlfriend but I'm pretty sure they will approve. The only condition is that you keep in contact with your parents. I'm not saying that you have to see them just write a letter but never disclose that you are right across the hall."
They sat there eating and talking fi finally around 7 o'clock Geeno could tell her his tragedies. He told her, " My parents they were so nice and kind but they looked allot like our next door nabors. One night it was just like any other night and they were watching news and then we herd sirens. A couple barged in and ran out the back door police came in and shot the house up killing my parents leaving my sister and I to die with wounds in our legs and arms. They just left after realizing that it wasn't the people they were looking for. they were looking for our next door nabors. They turned out to be bank robbers. Ever since my sister has taken care of me. At least until she went to prison for not paying her taxes because she was in debt. Then I had to go to foster care where I had an abusive caretaker. After my sister got out I was 6. Once I left my caretaker the gas in the house exploded killing all the kids inside and the caretaker I was not that sad but I sure want happy about that. The police in California want me because they want to know if I did the horable crime. It seems like all the people I'm around die. I want it to stop." he was crying then. Kenna hugged him and said. "It will stop one day trust me now were can we go to sleep.
Geeno led her to the guest room and made her comterable and talked some more, "you need to stand up for your self when she beats you don't just stand there wishing for it to be over." with that he left and went to bed him self.
In the morning they awoke to the smell of pancakes baking in the kitchen. Geeno went into the kitchen in his pj's and saw that Kenna was alre already there talking to his sister. His sisters name was Violet. She had that name because of her eyes, like his they were a deep purple.Violet said, "I see you already have a friend huh Geeno. I wish you would tell me before you let them stay over but she told me her story and its OK, she can stay. as long as she does some of the work needed like you. Any way who wants pancakes?"

titleliss

Remus was tiered nothing was going anywhere with Kelsey. He started to not like here mood swings her overpowering will. He started to see that she was allot like his sister. Peri's boyfriend dumped her and went to a girl named Jacky. Now after Remus broak up with Kelsey he started to like Jacky. It was clear to allot of people he did. but then it faded but luckily that made it posable for Kelsey to put blame on somebody other then me. The rest of math that year was extremely awkward with her siting right in front of me. the first day with out her was raining it was wonderful Oman of things to happen. Remus wondered around the school to then find some of his friends in English class and settled down there to eat lunch. all that year Remus had violent mood swings which he hid from the people around him. he was missing Kelsey. he wanted her back really badly. But he would never get her. No not ever again. From that day on he was new fresh but haunted by his past.

On the stairs

Kenna stayed in class as long as she could that lunch in her teachers classroom. She was in New York. she was 9 years old and had the energy of a young puppy ready to burst out. Ms. Fung Kenna's teacher a small, young Asian, with blue eyes called her over with her pet name for Kenna, "Born of fire come over here" Kenna did as she was told Ms. Fung continued, "Go out side play with the others otherwise I wont let you stay here after school helping me feed the animals."
"Yes Ms. Fung" said Kenna reluctantly, she walked towords the door of the classroom she remembered why she liked to stay in her teachers classroom. Outside on the steps of the school building was a girl named Nadia. She was the most beautiful girl in all of New York. She looked like a water nymph in all the lores and legend she took comfort in at home. Her manners were the exact opposite. she was rude arrogant and most of all hating. Nadia once was a friend of Kenna but then things changed. Nadia started to exclude her form the groups activities and ever told the guy she liked, Spencer, that she like him. she then started to physically abuse her on the front steps of the school where every one would watch. She would pull Kenna's hair, she would punch her stomic, but all that Kenna did was shut her eyes and wish for it to all be over when the bell rang to go back to class. When it did ring every body would leave she would tidy up make her self look acceptable and went back to Ms. Fungs room and sit in the way back as usual. it occurred again at lunch but this time she had a black eye. nobody noticed. nobody knew her pain. today she went started home. Ignoring Ms. Fung's asking for help. she didn't want to show her black eye to Ms. Fung. she trudged her way through the sleet of New York to her home. her home was an OK apartment over looking the harbor. As she walked she noticed somebody flowing her. she turned and screamed his face crying, "What do you want!" the boy a little taken aback by this fell backwards. he said calmly back, "Oy! I didn't mean to upset you i was only trying to ketch up with you and make sure you are alright. i saw what happened today at lunch and that was really bad. I'm sorry. My name is Geeno i moved in to the apartment across the hallway yesterday with my sister and her girlfriend." Kenna seeing that this boy was of no harm turned and walked towords home flowed silently by Genno. When they arrived home they turned and went into there apartments with out saying so much as a good bye.
Genno was writing in his notebooks of all the things he has seen today. he loved writing it got things out of his head. things like his parents death. he was disturbed by a knock on the door. he opened it to find Kenna there crying. asking to come in. Genno gladly let her in set her on the couch and went to the kitchen to get a batch of dark chocolate brownies made by his sister. his sister was a wonderful cook if anything could cheer this girl up it would be her cooking.

Through his glasses

19 years in this world and he puts on his glasses tho it makes the world clearer it doesn't feel right. As he puts them on it feels surreal like a dream. Nothing seems to be right nothing seems to be happening. People pass him as he just watches. The world moves on being seen through his glasses but he feels like if he tried to touch anything that it wouldn't be there all it is is just a dream with a frame around it. Like a 3D moving nothing is there but light nothing real, nothing material. Geeno sat there writing on his pad of paper he looks off the roof of a tall building. He writes all he knows on his pad, all he observes. He had tons of them at his sisters place fore they promoted it. They said he was a wonderful writer so did his parents. That was the only thing that keep them to him is what he thought. at the end of the paper he signed Geeno and printed the date. Under his name his proclaimed title, the meaning of his name, ever-living. He looked around himself. It feels so peaceful but nothing is happing is it? As he looks he asks himself multipliable times for he knows the world is a horable place. His parents kind and and firm at least he remembered form his memory, died form a home robbery. Geeno was only 5 and he lived. He lived to find out that it was the police that killed them because they though they were robbers but no, they mistook them for out next door nabors. And in all the commotion they fled never to be seen again. His sister attended college for a high price drove her to bankruptcy. She went to prison after she didn't pay her taxes the IRS put her in there. There she found the love of her life is what she told Geeno. Her lover was named Cynthia. The two lived together and almost married but prop 8 was passed. They couldn't marry so they moved to New York where they did. The cupple took Geeno in and took care of him so kindly. when he was 13 both were found dead one morning by him. He looked apon there bodies crying. Next to them was a blood written note and a finger of his sister next to it. The blood spelled "this is no place for lesbians". He stood there crying over the roof. Geeno was all alone, running. He had no friends no family all were dead. He was running from the police. They wanted to question him for if he knew any thing about his sisters death and why all the people Geeno was around died. He wanted it to stop. All the pain, all the suffering. Just stop thats all he wanted. He spoke not to somebody nobody was there but just the air on the roof. He said that he was sorry for all there deaths and that if he wasn't there they would be alive and healthy. He walked over to the pink rose next to him. He picked a flower, through it over the rail, and watched it hit a car far below and screamed at the top of his lungs "stop just stop". The kids on the roof across the street looked at him form the rooftop game of hide and seek. He looked down it was a good 50 stories. He did a well practiced back flip off the edge of the building. When the police came, after the kids across the street ran to there parents telling them a boy just jumped, they were shocked. No they did not find him at the street broken and bloody. But instead he was nealing. Not on the ground but here his back flip ended in mid air just off the roof top, high above the street. He was crying in a hysterical fit. Wanting to know why it was him that brout death, and death would take him. The police just stood there amazed, wondering questioning on the edge of the roof unable to fully comprehend.

The use of blogging

A blog is to display your toughs, to be able to tell the world what is going on, even in just hints. You can use a blog to tell a story. A story of fantasy. A story of your life. You can use it to tell your friends what is going on with your life. Like going on a trip explaining the day as you would if your mother asked you what happened at school today?. It's always from your perspective tho. You are a reporter. One who sees through your eyes and thoughts just typing them out onto a keyboard for the world to see. Blogging isn't imming you don't expect a response you are just telling the truth and actions with no questions but your own. You have to be creative and also be awhere of who will read it.

Love

What is love? So may people say that all is fair in love and war but how can it be fair if you don't even know what it is. Evey one has there own definitions own morals on love and the same with war. So what is it? How long can it last even if it is only you and no return. But friendships are love right? But not like oh I'm going to wake up each morning and like them even more then the day before. Friends kinda show a minor love... they have there highs there lows. They come and go...and some times you never get over the fact you were the reason they left...or you wonder if you could have done something to keep them. You make promises to your friends but you break them at times. some times they use you. But they still make you happy. You forgive...leaving your self open, but still happy that you have somebody so close... somebody to be able to tell things... somebody weep on there shoulder if times are ruff... somebody that you can run to if you need a place to stay... somebody to look into your eyes and tell what is wrong... and every bad thing will disappear form your mind and you will fall into there arms...open, vulnerable, but very happy.

So behind!

I swore to my self that I would do at least three blog poasts a month so far I have failed completly. I have no idea where the time goes things are just so busy. During spring break yes I had time but I didn't turn on my computer except for 2 days. I was so proud of my self for doing that...except I went through 10 200 page novels by Tamara Pierce. They were so fun. It turns out that all the things that happen that make me busy are in the evening about 7 o'clock. On Sundays I have 4-h form 1-3 then homework until 9. Helping with diner and practicing piano and just talking to my parents take at least 2 hr. out of my day alone. On Mondays usually I have nothing except the first Monday of every month where I go to the 4-h leaders project. Then on every Tuesday I have something ether it be Sea Scouts or a general 4-h meeting all take up time. Wednesday I have nothing so I go to my moms work scene she is retiring in a year. I love the library. I love to just look at people and wonder what they are like on the inside...and I stay till it closes at 9 then go home after "completing" my homework. On Thursdays I have piano lessons and then Friday which I have nothing but to sleep and relax. Finally Sunday where form 9-2 I have Sea Scouts. then add all the home work in and going to bed at 11. I'm so looking forward. 9 more weeks until summer. Then a week more till I get to go on a cruse to the eastern Mediterranean. By then I hope to make up all the post I missed and then some more.

Winter the cold months

As Remus's and Kelsey's relationship progressed they ate lunch together went to see a few movies every once in a while. The typical day for Remus was as so. He would get to school and go to his locker walk over to Kelsey first period classroom where her group met in the morning. They would talk Remus would listen to there conversations. They never really included him in them. And as the five Minuit bell rang he said good bye he hugged Kelsey and kissed her on the lips. With his eyes closed. He went through his first four periods wishing to see her in his forth period class for she sat right in front of him. They talked normally worked together. But again Remus felt alone he kinda just sat there for he...he just didn't feal comterable talking to the others in that class and some times even Kelsey. At lunch he walked with Kelcey to her locker then to his then to the groups usually lunch so that was the end of there alone time. Then the lunch group all girls the occasional guy. Loud, giggly, happy place, yet Remus was not happy. He sat there listing to there conversations with so many inside joaks. Fealing so confused and befuddled he just sat and thought. By the end of lunch he got up so did Kelcey. They hugged, kissed and he left to his next class. Remus tried to talk to her each night he waited up for her on line waiting fore that little green dot to appear. Most of the time it remained gray. other times she was buzzy. But once in a while they would talk. Talk about things consuring others. some goles things cupples would usually talk about. Remus was never really happy. this mad him over look the fact that he loved her. He use to ask himself what will happen in senor year? How would i be able to leave her behind. Go to a different college. Remus was blinded by the fact he wanted more, and could not see that he was content with the things he had.

People change!

So manny people change some for the better some for the worst. Moast I've seen are for the worst, like Mary. she was so happy in San Fransisco. All her asan frends short and content. laphing marly over the hills and ocian views. Forced to move here by her "over protective" parents. Taking over her recently dead grandfathers house. Attending c-mont. She ganed a groop of frends who then ditched her. Sitting at lunch alone for a quorter she became verry depressed then she got us. I dont know if that is a good thing but i guss it is. She will take anny advice you give her yet she does not do it. It is like taling to a computer screen it just wont work. The other person is Perie. I would say she changed towards a different group. She barely talks at all any more she says hi after I say hi I ask how are you she says good then no more response. We see each other every once and a while for a second say hi then move on. I kinda miss talking to her as a good friend that I use to be able to tell any thing to, but people change.