Monday, October 10, 2011
Friday, June 17, 2011
The Power and the Glory Final Video
Saturday, June 4, 2011
Diabolical
Author's Note: This Piece was inspired by the baby boy down the street and the actions of the adults around me. We babysat him last night and I was appalled at how many adults whom I know to be intelligent went to mush upon seeing him. The made funny noises and did weird things, and by the end of that night I decided I will pleasantly and happily wait until I am an adult until I fall apart from looking at a baby. I wrote this as the baby, on his thoughts of all the attention, it is just a short kind of funny piece.
Sitting here on this random person's lap I am the man. I mean look at this. There is a lady feeding me some amazing slop and wiping it up as if she is my servant. All these dogs just mill around me panting at me, and looking up at me with their adoring eyes, or maybe their looking at the food. None of it really matters because I am still a king, and I rule over adults. Have you ever seen the way adults act around babies, that is my point exactly. I have the invaluable power to turn adults brains to mush. They make their strange noises and faces, that ultimately make them look foolish and I of course laugh. Who wouldn't, it is hysterical they look so ridiculous and if they could understand me they probably wouldn't think that I was super cute, but they can't and I take full advantage of that.
Here comes someone right now, a strange woman whom I have no idea who she is but I don't care, because I know exactly what she is about to do. She bends down until she is right in my face and begins to speak well if you can call it speaking, "a boo, a boo boo! Aren't you just so cute! Yes you are! Yes you are! A dododo aboo aww do bo bo do!" My evil seemingly cute laugh echoes through the room. Oh how I enjoy this power.
Most people are easy to change to mush, but men are harder. They have will power that stands against me, but I always beat them in the end. Girls are really easy, one look and they're gone, no wonder my shirt says Girls Dig Me.
Sitting here on this random person's lap I am the man. I mean look at this. There is a lady feeding me some amazing slop and wiping it up as if she is my servant. All these dogs just mill around me panting at me, and looking up at me with their adoring eyes, or maybe their looking at the food. None of it really matters because I am still a king, and I rule over adults. Have you ever seen the way adults act around babies, that is my point exactly. I have the invaluable power to turn adults brains to mush. They make their strange noises and faces, that ultimately make them look foolish and I of course laugh. Who wouldn't, it is hysterical they look so ridiculous and if they could understand me they probably wouldn't think that I was super cute, but they can't and I take full advantage of that.
Here comes someone right now, a strange woman whom I have no idea who she is but I don't care, because I know exactly what she is about to do. She bends down until she is right in my face and begins to speak well if you can call it speaking, "a boo, a boo boo! Aren't you just so cute! Yes you are! Yes you are! A dododo aboo aww do bo bo do!" My evil seemingly cute laugh echoes through the room. Oh how I enjoy this power.
Most people are easy to change to mush, but men are harder. They have will power that stands against me, but I always beat them in the end. Girls are really easy, one look and they're gone, no wonder my shirt says Girls Dig Me.
Monday, May 2, 2011
You are Your Brother's Keeper
Author's Note: This is my response to the Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime, it is a kind of short story thing about the main character's, Christopher's, teacher or mentor something like that. It is based off of a passage from the book on page 29 where Christopher is talking about he doesn't know what staying out of other people's business means, I kind of took it a different way saying that sometimes you have to disregard the fact that it is their business in order to help them.
I remember the first time someone told me it was none of my business, I was only four and didn't at the time know what that meant. As I grew older I gradually gained knowledge as to what was my business and what wasn't, my business was stuff that involved me that I didn't necessarily want the whole world to know. As a general rule you stay out of other people's business, but when does it become the time to cross the line into their business, because sometimes that is exactly what that person needs.
At the age of thirteen I saw something of my friends life that was really none of my "business". I was walking up her front lawn a wrapped parcel in hand about to surprise her because the previous day had been her birthday and me, being out of town, was not available to come and wish her a happy birthday and give her her gift. I was almost to the doorway when I saw her through the window, standing in her family room. I was about to raise my hand up to wave at her and say hi, but then I saw that she was crying. My hand dropped limply to my side and stopped and continued to look into the window, searching for whatever had made her cry expecting it to be her older brother or something.
Instead I saw her father advancing towards her, as if her where a tiger stalking its prey. When he reached her struck her so hard in the face she fell down and then I couldn't see her, but I could still see her father, could still see that he had continued to hit her. I stood there frozen in horror, with no idea what to do. I couldn't move, it was like being glued to a scary movie, unable to move your eyes, but wanting to so bad. Finally he stopped and faintly through the window I could hear him shout, "I need a drink!". My friend, my friend I saw her pulling herself up using the window sill as support, her body was scored with bruises, and as she lifted her head up our eyes connected for just a moment. Then she shot to her feet and closed the shade.What I did next was stupid, I turned around and went home thinking to myself the whole way it is none of my business, it is NONE of my business!
The next day at school we acted as if nothing ever happened, and everyday she came to school with a new bruise I pretended it wasn't there. Pretended I didn't know the truth, that I believed the story that she had concocted. Months later, how I wished I would have ignored the fact that it was her business and not mine, because months later she died.
The day that Christopher came into school with the bruise on his cheek, my heart jumped and I was reminded of this all. I had to ask him, make sure he was okay, and he must have been because he told me so and I know that Christopher can't lie. Although that was technically going into his business, sometimes as human beings we need to do that, because after all you are your brothers keeper, and sometimes to make sure that he (or she) remains unharmed you have to go into their business.
I remember the first time someone told me it was none of my business, I was only four and didn't at the time know what that meant. As I grew older I gradually gained knowledge as to what was my business and what wasn't, my business was stuff that involved me that I didn't necessarily want the whole world to know. As a general rule you stay out of other people's business, but when does it become the time to cross the line into their business, because sometimes that is exactly what that person needs.
At the age of thirteen I saw something of my friends life that was really none of my "business". I was walking up her front lawn a wrapped parcel in hand about to surprise her because the previous day had been her birthday and me, being out of town, was not available to come and wish her a happy birthday and give her her gift. I was almost to the doorway when I saw her through the window, standing in her family room. I was about to raise my hand up to wave at her and say hi, but then I saw that she was crying. My hand dropped limply to my side and stopped and continued to look into the window, searching for whatever had made her cry expecting it to be her older brother or something.
Instead I saw her father advancing towards her, as if her where a tiger stalking its prey. When he reached her struck her so hard in the face she fell down and then I couldn't see her, but I could still see her father, could still see that he had continued to hit her. I stood there frozen in horror, with no idea what to do. I couldn't move, it was like being glued to a scary movie, unable to move your eyes, but wanting to so bad. Finally he stopped and faintly through the window I could hear him shout, "I need a drink!". My friend, my friend I saw her pulling herself up using the window sill as support, her body was scored with bruises, and as she lifted her head up our eyes connected for just a moment. Then she shot to her feet and closed the shade.What I did next was stupid, I turned around and went home thinking to myself the whole way it is none of my business, it is NONE of my business!
The next day at school we acted as if nothing ever happened, and everyday she came to school with a new bruise I pretended it wasn't there. Pretended I didn't know the truth, that I believed the story that she had concocted. Months later, how I wished I would have ignored the fact that it was her business and not mine, because months later she died.
The day that Christopher came into school with the bruise on his cheek, my heart jumped and I was reminded of this all. I had to ask him, make sure he was okay, and he must have been because he told me so and I know that Christopher can't lie. Although that was technically going into his business, sometimes as human beings we need to do that, because after all you are your brothers keeper, and sometimes to make sure that he (or she) remains unharmed you have to go into their business.
Sunday, May 1, 2011
Whoops!
Author's Note: This is just something I wrote in avoidance of writing an essay, it is similar to the last post I did in the sense that it is based off of a song. I did another like that one because I had a lot of fun with it and it is just something that I am playing around with. This is based off of the song Little Lion Man by Mumford and Sons. I took this song as being somebody watching a person that had a very low self esteem and was broken, at first the spectator is disgusted at them, disgusted at the fact that the person won't just pull themselves together and suck it up, but then they realize that that is easier said than done and they start feeling guilty because it was their fault, they where the ones who did this to that person. I don't think this makes a lot of sense in some parts, but tell me what think. If you don't know the song there is a link with the lyrics underneath this note to help, but otherwise listen to it on youtube, but be warned if you are sensitive towards swears they say the f-word in the chorus.
Lyrics: http://www.lyricsmania.com/little_lion_man_lyrics_mumford_and_sons.html
As you stand there crying, and crying I watch you. All that you cry for is yourself, all you cry for is what you want to be but aren't. You try your hardest to be what you want, but through all that has happened your bravery has gradually ebbed away, you are no longer as brave as you where at the start. Constantly analyzing yourself to other people, don't you know you aren't perfect? There is always someone better than you, and if you could only take all the courage, the small amount that that is and realize that you aren't perfect and that's okay. All these problems you try to solve, they are in your head. All the energy that goes into "fixing" your life is wasted, there is nothing to fix. You are like a cowardly lion crouching and weeping in your own made up self pity.
Then again I shouldn't be criticizing you it was after all my fault. I was the one who brought you down, I was the one who gave that kind of self-image. Wow I really messed up didn't I? All those days when I could have said something that would have made a positive difference. For me it was a joke, but obviously it wasn't for you and I just was too slow to see it.
Trembling in the fear of yourself, in your self hate. You know you have seen this before, but you never thought it would be you. So confident you where, with your little swagger and the ego that people couldn't help but love. None of those scores will be settled with the people who where previously in your place because of you, not even out of pity will they let them be settled. All you have now is the boldness that was once just another plus of being you, but now it is all you have left, all that stands among the wreck of you.
Now I know what I did, but you walking as if everybody was there for you all the things you had, and I just wanted to take away some of it. I thought it wouldn't hurt, just tiny pin pricks barely noticeable to someone as large as you, but everyone prick counted, everything does. It all added up in the end until like a balloon you explode, deflated, leaving nothing but empty plastic pieces, not even enough to put back together. I didn't, didn't care it was your heart that was in trouble not mine, so really it was not your fault but mine.
Lyrics: http://www.lyricsmania.com/little_lion_man_lyrics_mumford_and_sons.html
As you stand there crying, and crying I watch you. All that you cry for is yourself, all you cry for is what you want to be but aren't. You try your hardest to be what you want, but through all that has happened your bravery has gradually ebbed away, you are no longer as brave as you where at the start. Constantly analyzing yourself to other people, don't you know you aren't perfect? There is always someone better than you, and if you could only take all the courage, the small amount that that is and realize that you aren't perfect and that's okay. All these problems you try to solve, they are in your head. All the energy that goes into "fixing" your life is wasted, there is nothing to fix. You are like a cowardly lion crouching and weeping in your own made up self pity.
Then again I shouldn't be criticizing you it was after all my fault. I was the one who brought you down, I was the one who gave that kind of self-image. Wow I really messed up didn't I? All those days when I could have said something that would have made a positive difference. For me it was a joke, but obviously it wasn't for you and I just was too slow to see it.
Trembling in the fear of yourself, in your self hate. You know you have seen this before, but you never thought it would be you. So confident you where, with your little swagger and the ego that people couldn't help but love. None of those scores will be settled with the people who where previously in your place because of you, not even out of pity will they let them be settled. All you have now is the boldness that was once just another plus of being you, but now it is all you have left, all that stands among the wreck of you.
Now I know what I did, but you walking as if everybody was there for you all the things you had, and I just wanted to take away some of it. I thought it wouldn't hurt, just tiny pin pricks barely noticeable to someone as large as you, but everyone prick counted, everything does. It all added up in the end until like a balloon you explode, deflated, leaving nothing but empty plastic pieces, not even enough to put back together. I didn't, didn't care it was your heart that was in trouble not mine, so really it was not your fault but mine.
Thursday, April 28, 2011
VoiceThread
If you are looking for my VoiceThread and/or adopted poet poem it is on the Adopted Poet: W.H. Auden page
Sunday, April 17, 2011
Fallen
Author's Note: Here is post I decided to do based off of Coldplay's Viva La Vida. There are a lot references back to the song in this seeing as I was listening to it as I wrote this. I think the idea of eternal damnation and the way the person whom the song talks about is at peace with it is fascinating and I tried to get that at the end of this piece.
Smooth road is stretched before me, its flawless perfection is something seemingly impossible but yet here it is. Golden glimmers catch the light of a bright sun above, the road seems to float among perfect white and fluffy clouds stark against the deep blue background. My hands stay in my pockets to shield myself from whatever might come, my back is hunched against an unknown force curling protectively around my body. Each step is a step towards the end of this road, each step brings back memories as I draw closer to the Gates.
I remember my younger days, when I ruled all, everything was at my beck and call. The sense of power and glory was gratifying whenever I heard my people yelling shouts of praise "Long live the King!" they used to cry. I was feared by all, going into battle I relished the feeling of the terror I could sense from my enemies. All Kings fall at one point, most of the time it is death, but for me it was not so. It was like a big mind game to be king, no one was honest and their words meant nothing their only purpose was to twist the thoughts running through my head, but this was when I ruled the world.
I remember the horrified looks I received after the Incident, none could believe what I had done, what I had become especially me. My world fell apart the one so strong castle I had crumbled into sand, I had just opened the door to Life when with one small action it was closed to me. Slowly I crawled my way from King to the lowest form of life possible, my hands worked and tended, took care of things I used to sweep past in all of my arrogance. Noticing not the people who did what I do know.
My sleeping place was right near the Cathedral, and that last cold night that seems far off but was not so long ago, I heard the music pouring out from the doors. Beautiful it was, bell rang amongst the choir as they sang, I can imagine I can hear it right now, on this golden road that gives the illusion of being steady but I can fell the faint swaying. The music that I thought was just in my head is growing louder with each step and look up from my hunched gait, the music that is flowing out of the gates is a thousand times more beautiful than anything that has ever met my ears. At the front of tall and elegant gates stands a man, he seems to be waiting for me, in fact I know he is. This is Saint Peter. I reach him in a state far from apprehension in fact it is more like peace. I know what my verdict will be I do not know how, but I know. Saint Peter looks upon me, nodding his head once to confirm that I was indeed right.
Smooth road is stretched before me, its flawless perfection is something seemingly impossible but yet here it is. Golden glimmers catch the light of a bright sun above, the road seems to float among perfect white and fluffy clouds stark against the deep blue background. My hands stay in my pockets to shield myself from whatever might come, my back is hunched against an unknown force curling protectively around my body. Each step is a step towards the end of this road, each step brings back memories as I draw closer to the Gates.
I remember my younger days, when I ruled all, everything was at my beck and call. The sense of power and glory was gratifying whenever I heard my people yelling shouts of praise "Long live the King!" they used to cry. I was feared by all, going into battle I relished the feeling of the terror I could sense from my enemies. All Kings fall at one point, most of the time it is death, but for me it was not so. It was like a big mind game to be king, no one was honest and their words meant nothing their only purpose was to twist the thoughts running through my head, but this was when I ruled the world.
I remember the horrified looks I received after the Incident, none could believe what I had done, what I had become especially me. My world fell apart the one so strong castle I had crumbled into sand, I had just opened the door to Life when with one small action it was closed to me. Slowly I crawled my way from King to the lowest form of life possible, my hands worked and tended, took care of things I used to sweep past in all of my arrogance. Noticing not the people who did what I do know.
My sleeping place was right near the Cathedral, and that last cold night that seems far off but was not so long ago, I heard the music pouring out from the doors. Beautiful it was, bell rang amongst the choir as they sang, I can imagine I can hear it right now, on this golden road that gives the illusion of being steady but I can fell the faint swaying. The music that I thought was just in my head is growing louder with each step and look up from my hunched gait, the music that is flowing out of the gates is a thousand times more beautiful than anything that has ever met my ears. At the front of tall and elegant gates stands a man, he seems to be waiting for me, in fact I know he is. This is Saint Peter. I reach him in a state far from apprehension in fact it is more like peace. I know what my verdict will be I do not know how, but I know. Saint Peter looks upon me, nodding his head once to confirm that I was indeed right.
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