"I Couldn't Take it Anymore" -Chair

A chair is just a chair until it is gone from the world. When that happens it becomes the most remembered thing to the owner who needed it most.

If Only...

       There once was a king. He was not wise or smart, but because he was king everyone praised him. He would condemn the innocent and those around said they deserved it; all because he was king. The king did not know the meaning of hard work. Simply because he was pampered and didn't have to lift a finger for anything.
        Now there was another man who was in the lowest of positions. Even the peasants spat upon him when seen, and the fact of the matter was he didn't deserve it. He was a slave. Born into such a dire situation. He worked day and night till his brow bled and his back grew tired. He would work hard hoping that someday his actions would allow him freedom.
         The slave began to work in the foolish kings gardens. He worked putting his tears into the garden to make its beauty flourish.
         The king saw his gardens and would say, "look at my garden. Look at how amazing it is." He took the credit of the slave, and none questioned him.
          After many years the king went back to his garden. He was angered at the sight he saw. Nearly every plant was shriveled and life seemed none existent in such a place. He demanded to know who did this to his garden. A servant ran up to the king and told him the slave that had once taken care of the gardens had taken his own life, and that the garden seemed to be in mourning of such things.
          The king was taken aback by such an answer. He wished to know more about the man who could make the plants weep over his death, but because of the brand of being a slave the king found no such information about the man. He found only the snickers of prideful men who would say, "Who cares about such a lowly person? He is of no concern for me." Such answers appalled the king.    
          That night he cried himself to sleep saying, "If only I had done more. If only I had done something."

Questions From the not so Intelligent Person

       1. Why? Why don't kids like to read? I love it. It takes me to my own little world. People always say the book was better than the movie. So why don't we like to read?
       2. How come I hate the rain, but love the after rain effect? Just the smell after a rainstorm is the best.
       3. Why doesn't anyone seem to like my taste in music? Also why do they have to tell me my choice in music sucks? I mean why does it matter? It's my choice.
       4. How come someone has to be wrong all the time? Can it ever be a draw? So what if you don't like someone's idea for something? For all you know their answer could be correct and you're  just an idiot.
       5. Why am I awkward? I'm never able to articulate what's on my mind very well.
       6. How come Pluto isn't a planet anymore? I mean we don't say a midget isn't a person so why can't Pluto be a planet?
       7. Who's brilliant idea was it to make the education system so out of wack that half the kids have to take pills to pass?
       8. Why does a doughnut have a hole in it? I mean if they wouldn't put the hole there then there would be more doughnut for me, right?
       9. Why does everyone say I'm wasting my time playing video games? Come on! Like any hobby is a waste of time if you think about it. It doesn't better society if you build a car model. So how is that any different then me playing video games?
         

A Simple Question

       Hello everyone, I know this seems strange, but I'm curious to know. In fact I have to know. Now before I ask there are a couple of things I need to say first. I wish for anyone who reads this post to comment it with an answer because there will be a question at the end that I want answered. I want you to please take it seriously however if you do happen to make a joke I won't be mad. Because let's be honest who doesn't like a joke every once in a while? Also if you happened to stumble upon this post please have your friends read it and comment as well.
       Now there's a parable I will tell and if you know where this story comes from well then good for you. Although just know that I changed some things.
       Once two blind men sat atop a tall mountain in the early morning of the day. As the sun rose the rays of light made the scenery so breath taking and beautiful. As the two blind men began to feel the warmth of the sun the one leaned over to other and asked, "Can beauty be taken away?"
       The other replied bitterly saying, "Yes! My sight has been taken from me, and so I will never be able to see the beauty of things."
       The other having been born blind asked, "And what about the beauty of music? What about all the other things that can be enjoyed? Is there not beauty in those?"
       The man whose sight was taken said, "And what if all those senses were taken from you? What if your tongue was cut off? your ears ripped off? What if all you felt was pain for the rest of your life?"
       The man born blind thought long and hard for an answer, but could find no answer.
       Now forgive me for cutting the story short but I now ask you, Can beauty be taken away?

What I Want

        I remember when I was a child I wanted to grow up so badly. I wanted to be an artist. I wanted to live in a mansion. Where I had all the house maids, servants, and video games I ever wanted. Where I didn't have a care in the world, but now I have to grow up...
        I now live in a time where the possibility of screwing up is a reality. Every day I look in the mirror saying follow your dreams, but how can I do that? Lets be honest I'm a slacker. I don't have a 4.0 GPA, I don't do extra cirricular activities, and I dont have an impressive résumé.
        My parents just want me to graduate, but what do I want? Doesn't that matter? Now that I'm older I still want to be an artist. Not a writer, although there is a certain type of beauty to this, I want to draw, to paint, and to sketch. Now that I'm older I have to realize that I'm not nearly as good as some however, but that doesn't matter.
        I just want to be happy. But is that really possible in a world that defines happiness by a paycheck rather than by life's work? I don't know maybe I'm insane, but I've come to learn that if everyone would care more about others than themselves the world would be a place of compassion. I've come to learn that yes I'm annoying and a nuisance. I've been told that every day. Why should I care? I've come to terms with it, and now I say I'll happily play the fool again and again if it means I can make someone smile.
       Bah! What do I know? I'm just a rambling teenager in a world where the honors of men have died.

Her

    She is beautiful... There's nothing much else to say. She's the one I love, or at least I think it's love... How can I tell? Is it because my heart beats irregularly when she walks into a room. Could it be because when she opens her mouth I only hear angelic songs of love and tranquility. It also might be because when we kiss the world becomes silent. There's only her and me. She is the one and I don't care who knows it. I love her even if its just the hormones I still love her.
    She is my savior. She pulled me from the depths of hell and showed me happiness does exist. You just have to look in the right places. She is the one who keeps me going when times are hard. She is the one I don't plan on letting go. I hope she feels the same way otherwise I'll feel like a fool, but at least I'll be a happy fool during those times.
    I love her and that's all that matters.

The Death Note

   I remember waking up to a strange knock on the door. Strange, since I'm in my room and it's the middle of the night. I open my door to the hallway. I can't see much since the hallway doesn't have any light, but I get an odd sensation that someone's watching me...
   Hurriedly I shut the door and go back to my bed. The knocking returns. It's stops only a moment and that's when I decide I'm not going to open it.
   The moment I think it the knocking turns into scratching and kicking. This thing wants in. What do I do? Oh god, have mercy on me what does it want?
"The answer is simple," I hear from the door. "I wish only one thing and one thing alone. I want you dead."
   No it can't be... The door flies open and the last thing I see is a beast so vile that words cannot describe. The pain, oh how the pain keeps me conscious for only seconds but it feels like an eternity. Perhaps if I had just kept my head down this wouldn't be happening, but it's to late. Do not make the same mistakes I did. I beg of you...

Thoughts by the Village Idiot

       This idea has been on my mind for quite some time now and so I finally decided to put it down on paper.
       Time is something we always measure. We say time is a concept man created to be able to schedule things. However I say that time is fact; not a concept. Times definition is a measurement of the passing of the present. And so this leads to the conclusion that just because no one is there to measure the passing of time, time will forever be there. Because of this basic conclusion I believe that the impossible will statistically always be possible.
       Think of it this way if your terrible at basketball and statistically your percentage of making a shot is close to zero if you continue to take the shot eventually it will go into the basket it doesn't matter time is always an ally for those who are persistent.
       But this idea brings up another idea about gods. Celestial beings that will live forever. Eventually living forever seems to be more a burden than that of a blessing. Because eventually a god will have done everything it has ever wished to do. Such a being will eventually burn out all it's resources and will have nothing to live for. It will have said to itself all my plans, my goal, and my achievements are finished, now what? Eventually this angelic creature will wish to pass.
      Which brings the next question. How does this relate to time? Well in all honesty it doesn't really. I was just explaining that part to prove that with time a god is possible.  If there is such a thing as god, which mind you is possible because time proves even that which seems impossible is possible, something so powerful that it is immortal and cannot be killed. Can a god die? Because why live when there is nothing to live for...

I Am

         I am the basis of all fear. I am that which made you cry out for mother in the middle of the night. I am the thing that makes you scared of what might be or what could be. I ensnare all minds. You may deny me, but when the time comes I will consume you. I am the epitome of death. The god king of darkness. I am apart of your mind that can break you. That can make you go onto the brink of insanity.
        Now you ask what monstrosity am I? Deep down I think you know, and if not then you will soon learn. For I am your imagination. You say you fear the unknown but I say no. You fear what your imagination has created to fill up the unknown. For I am not fact but fiction and that is danger enough to fear me. You do not fear when you don't know a math problem but you fear when you create your darkest thoughts. So I declare myself ruler over all fear and this makes me more powerful than anything you could hope for. For I am the creator of fear.

The Brick of Nothing

        There once was a brick. This brick was nothing special. Its look was nothing of remembrance it was just a simple grey with 3 little holes. It sat by the side of rode day and night hoping with all it's might that someone would use it for something.
        Its wish was answered one day when a little boy picked it up. The brick was so happy. If it had a mouth it would've yelled out with joy. But soon it's joy was turned into shock and fear as the boy wrote a letter saying, "you're dead." And tying it to the brick. The grey brick was then thrown into a window smashing the glass into thousands of tiny little pieces.
        The screams and yelps the poor brick heard when it landed on the dinner table. Oh how the brick wished to say I'm sorry please don't be scared or mad I didn't want any of this to happen, but it did and there was nothing the brick could do about it. Just like life.

The Bitter

         When I was young I was scared of the dark. I was afraid that there was something out in the darkness hiding in the shadows waiting to hurt me. Something that would enjoy watching me be in pain.
         I also hated the cold bite of winter snow. My parents always called me the lizard because I would stand over the heater vent with my blanket.  I didn't learn to appreciate the dark and bitter cold until I was 13 and my family had just moved.
        The school I went to was a nightmare where everyday I was reminded that I didn't belong. Constantly battered with remarks of how awkward, weird, and annoying I was.
        At home it was no better. My dads new job always made him frustrated and mad. My mother was always ready to explode because of the stress, and my siblings were always gone.
        I was alone...
        During the summer we moved I had taken a liking to going up to the roof of my house and watch the sunset of amazing hues, but now was not such a time of warmth. It was snowing and close to midnight. I had stayed up so late listening to the argueing of parents and the torment of another day of being called useless.
        I needed an out...
        So only wearing shorts and a t-shirt and nothing else I decided to go to the roof of my house through my window. I remember my bare feet feeling like knives had punctured them while crawling to the highest peek of my house. The darkness made me blind and I had to use only my memory to scale this glacier-esqe incline.
       When I had reached the top I sat there. the bitter cold had made me numb not just from the physical pain but from the memories and fears of what was to come. The darkness felt as a blanket wrapping me up in my own little solitude. After this enlightenment had come upon me a small smile crept onto my face. All I remember was that was my first real smile in a long time and for that I must be eternally thankful for the dark and cold.

Where Have You Gone?

             You PROMISED me you wouldn't leave! Then where are you? Why am I all alone in this world? You can't break a promise. Why did you go with the reaper? Did he have something better to offer? I'll double his offer! I'll... I'll give you a better deal.

NO! NO NO NO!!! You can't just leave me!! Not like this... Why does everything leave me? What did I do to deserve this? I know you were in pain, but now that you're gone my hearts on the floor bleeding out and I'm in the corner drowning in my own tears.

             You made a promise... You broke it, but I can't get mad at you. I know why you left. I know that you wanted to leave. I saw you in the prison you called a body, but couldn't you have taken me to the one place where we could be ourselves just one last time before you left? 

             You didn't even give me the chance to at least say goodbye. Could you have at least given me that? That's all I ask now. I don't care that you broke the promise anymore. I just want to be able to say goodbye, but you didn't even give me that. So I guess I'll say it to myself. goodbye...

Something Different

The truth of being different.

Innocence

I remember a time when life was simple. A time when I didn't fear or have a care in the world. When crayons showed how I felt, with my vibrant blues and stunning reds. A time when if I felt alone I could turn to an empty sheet of paper and color until I was happy, but that time has passed and now I'm left with nothing but my old broken crayons. With no creativity left. Only the the voices telling me to conform with everyone else. To be boring and to be normal. Is that possible though for someone like me? I doubt it but we'll see. 

Lonely Road

As I walk this lonely road,

I walk with my head held high,

and my back unbroke. 

I walk knowing that I will not return. 

I walk alone. 

I walk through the valley of death meeting my reaper, with a steady gaze and no regrets. 

I walk alone. 

I walk towards a future with hopes and dreams that I know, shall not be. 

I walk alone. 

I walk and fall with no one to catch me. Yet I get back up and trod the path so few have taken. 

I walk alone. 

I walk with a heavy heart and a heavy burden. A burden which I hope none shall have to carry. 

I walk alone. 

I walk and walk till the end of days. They say I'm blessed, but I am cursed. I feel something claw at me. Saying, "please oh please let me free." This... Thing... Is cruel and should not be. 

I walk alone. 

I walk with fear that this will be the end of me. That this beast inside will be released and that people will see not a human, but a beast, that is of, destructive nature. 

I walk alone. 

I walk in solitude for fear of hurting, for fear of killing any hopes and dreams others may have. 

So I walk this lonely road. 

Things To Do

1. Wake up
2. Get rid of the foul odor one creates while sleeping (need to look into that)
3. Go to school
4. Almost say hi to that one person I like (think her name is Sarah, or maybe Jessica?)
5. Go home (eat some snacks)
6. Go to work (wish I was somewhere else)
7. Finally have dinner
8. Do homework (not sure what I'm doing)
9. Rage quit doing homework (Think teachers are screwing with me)
10. Listen to music (need to find better music)
11.Sleep
12. Repeat

Define Human

         As I walk down the beach with the warm sand pressed against the bottom of my feet, and the gentle breeze bringing a new freshness to this whole scene I tell myself, "This is living." The whole idea of living is to enjoy the world. To experience new things in this world, but then I wake up from my dream...
         I am forced into a world where pain seems to be my only comfort and solitude my only friend. This is the place I live and I must deal with it, and by some idea of man I should be thankful for it. Because I am human and thus should be happy and proud. And if I am not as they say I should be then I am taking it for granted...
         I must continually say I am human. I am human. I... am... human... Am I human? something I once thought was such a simple question now haunts me. People say I am, but I do not feel like I belong. Is there something wrong with me? Am I just crazy? Should I get help? Perhaps...
         But I am sane enough to say that monsters can be human and that is what scares me the most. I fear that I may be a monster myself. The thoughts and ideas that have come from my head are often ridiculous, outlandish, and horrifying. Yet I cannot deny that they are apart of me.So I must continue to say I am Human. I am Human. I. Am. Human.

Choice

"The price of being a sheep is boredom. The price of being a wolf is loneliness. Choose one or the other with great care."
         -Hugh Macleod