How To Become A Writer Because Hobos Terrify Me

Hi. Yes hello and welcome to yeah... whatever this is. Its rlly gr8 and full of things. This might be filled with good persons, places or things but the likely hood of that is slim to none. Leave now if you really care because nothing ever done in the name of science is legal. *wink wink*  Don't spend all your money on booze because the bible says not to. Well Duh. 

Yeah this is pretty much just a land of forgotten words that always disappear after blacking out drunk. 

I was going to put a inspirational story that I wrote when I was in 8th grade here, on this very post!! but it wasn't very inspirational and made like no sense at all. I can become a writer eh? Yeah and get inspired by paintings that were drawn up by dead men who we all know were taking a little too much weed.

Here I'll bestow some advice that I got from a hobo site.

Learn the hobo code.  Don't hesitate to dumpster dive.            

                                                            Why even take advice from hobos? We all know we walk on the opposite side of the road because I don't want their filthy words all up in my grill.

Yep absolutely thrilling.

Does this make me a writer Now?

I guess you wouldn't care really now would you.        

I think I am a genuinely happy person, so why can I only write about pain and death? "I dunno ya weirdo, no one cares!"

I'm a writer and you're a writer, heck I'm even a jack o lantern. 

There are no guidelines, no wikihow to become a writer in 6 steps (even though I bet a million dollars there is one) so. just. yeah. be whatever all right? 

Do step one and then bam. yep, you sir won the prize 

because now you are an 

artist. 

Yeah I did it, I went there

When you get back, please tell me how you're trip was.

In My Heart

"Hi, my name is Cameron" he said as he shone a goofy smile my way. His calming blue eyes twinkled as the sun gazed upon them and happiness beamed from his face.

He was my best friend and my first love...

We hiked slowly through the dead brush and began to climb this hill. The sun began to set but kept shining and the heat tickled my face pink. We continued towards the park that lay on the top of this hillside and with each step he always turned back to make sure I wasn't too far behind.

We reached the top and looked over the city that spread out below us. Lights began to sizzle as the shade of darkness enclosed the valley.

We walked over to a wooden platform that rests at the top of the hill overlooking the cities scooped into valleys on either side of us. We sat on the edge of the platform and watched as darkness began to wake up the city's lights, and as cars zoomed through the streets.

It was silent as we sat together as if the world had fallen asleep as the lights of the night had come out to play.

I sat so close to him that I could feel the soft heat emanating off of him almost as if enticing me. Pure childish giddy spread across my face and soon that space between us no longer cried out. His presence sent chills up my spine and he embraced me slowly as we sat and peered down into the city.

I came close to his chest and took comfort in the strong, consistent beating of his heart and with each breath  his chest glided in and out. He smelled fresh and sweet like the earth after it was bathed in rain.

He began to point out to lights which had looked so familiar in the day, but have seemed to transform in the night. We guessed the neighborhoods and which store was which, followed by the occasional laugh that vibrated through his chest and tickled my face.

Awhile later we began to walk down the hill and through the streets until we got to the fork in the road where we went separate ways. We stood underneath a lamppost with the orange light illumining us in the darkened night.

He stared down into my eyes and a playful smile crept onto his face. He held me close in a last embrace. He pulled back softly holding my hands in his, he began to lean towards me and kissed me softly.

He departed slowly and with step he took I missed him more and yearned to feel his embrace. After standing still under the pale orange light for a few minutes I began to walk home.

My whole body buzzed with excitement as I jumped a fence, walked into my house and got ready to sleep.

That was the last time I ever saw my beloved friend; he died the next day.

How It Feels Just To Breathe With No Air

The car shifts and grumbles on the rock laden road. A beat up truck cruised along, it had rust covering more of it's surface than paint and the left tire in the back is extremely flat. Each rock we hit I'm slammed against the side of the truck and I'm positive that this truck is going to explode if we go any further.

As if this ride couldn't get any worse it was, starting with when I was thrown into the back wrapped in a potato sack with my hands and feet bound together....

A slimy wet cloth is choking me and some fume soaked into the linen swept up into my lungs. My brain begun to careen out of control and all I could do was lay down and pass out.

I come to my senses and start panicking when I realize I am in a claustrophobic potato sack. I willed myself to take deep breaths and stay as calm as possible but that's pretty hard when I've realize I have been kidnapped.

A few more hours and the truck coughs to a halt. I listen closely to try and determine where we could possibly be. Unstoppable tears careen off my face and all my hope begins to crumple in on itself like plastic in a blazing fire. "I love you" forms on my lips for my family, but I know that it won't ever make it to them.

The doors open and slam simultaneously and I hear the men's ruffled low voices continue the conversation from when they were in the car.

"I've told you that we've been duped." said one on the left side of me.

The other man yelled "Well then what are we supposed to do with her?!"

I could sense their gazes had  fallen upon me and I almost shrieked, because I could almost feel their hands on me again, picking me up and ripping me away from my house.

They went to the hood of the car and began to whisper together and as much as I possibly strained my ears I could not hear what they had planned for me.

I began to panic, the air in this sack was becoming tight and humid, my asthma began to kick in.

They came back to the end of the truck, opened up the latch and hopped up into the back of the truck and stood inches from me.

All at once they grabbed me from the sack and held a chunk of my hair and ripped me forward into the darkness.

Now I could see where I was and I started screaming as they pulled me closer and closer to the water of the ocean. The cool sand prickled my feet and I tried pulling away and fighting but it was all too painful.

Tears blurred my vision and my ears began to ring.

Before I knew it water had elapsed all around my body and I felt encased as if in jell-o. I tried struggling and clawing at whoever was behind me but he was far too strong for me to do anything.

Fear pumped through my body as I realized this was the end. There is no other feeling like how it feels to breathe with no air. Because you can't

Water raged in and out and I tried to scream as my chest began to burn like a fire had lit inside my lungs and blackness began to take over my vision.

My body grew weak and I try once more to flail and try to escape but then it all went silent and I knew I had lost.


 Soon after I became blinded by a light that encompassed my surroundings as far as I could see. I felt my legs move toward it so I let them.

 I walked into the light and I never looked back
because I couldn't.

Thinking but not Remembering

I run up and down the stairs, sing my favorite opera song, type my essay on a typewriter, and still nothing happens.

Should I be upset that I am still the same, that my brain hasn't exploded and have ideas flood my head like a typhoon?

I never could summon my soul when need be. It likes to be alone as if it is a daughter who has a non understanding father. It closes the door shut and will never be reasonable.

It always seems  to be bad before the good. My brain is like my mouth in that neither have a filter and I've always wondered is there some place I can buy one??

I succumb to Pogo sticking in my front yard, licking the fur of my dog, and dancing like a lunatic.

But it never works.

I start to wonder "why does nothing I think of ever work".

I lose hope and maybe I am not creative!

This is not meant for me, it's for that other guy down the street that takes weird pictures of his muscles.

Because he has an art gallery,

and I don't.

The hardest part of being an artist is not thinking but remembering.

Remembering what it felt like
and the rush that filled my veins
how I could ever live without this feeling


Remembering Creativity.

Different

I never do my assignments so I'm being different by doing one haha.

Love don't die 

its what I say it's not what I do. 

Your love it was only pretend

 I'd turn around if you beg me to stay

 heart breaker with an ego 

I've got more to say

 that aint no compliment thats the truth that's why I am leaving you 

buh duh nuh nuh du du du 

I'm leaving youuuuu

dadaddaaaawawayayaya

all I am

 in my hands 

but I stand

 lets have an adventure 

gravitys centered 

one love 

too coolowowowowoollddd 

here and now 

knoooooowwww 

not much to say 

so far away

ya love the taste yeaah

a place I've been dreamin of

we can dance like there is no tomorrow

of time and spaaaaaceee

I gotta do high

I gotta do all of it

I can feel the city crumblin around me

Can't seem to find my way

it went away so fast

got to let go

so here we go!

I can feel the heart beat underneath the concrete just like a kid drawing planes

Now rap it.

I Am Left Without

Have you ever felt betrayed?

I have.

Betrayed like a child without a mother.

Betrayed by god when I've felt all alone.

Betrayed when a son dies of cancer.

Betrayed when your friend forgets you.

Betrayed like a dog left in a pound to die.

Betrayed like a toy resting in the dust of the shelves of DI.

Betrayed like a divorce.

Betrayed like another bruise that appears on my mother's face.

Betrayed like a father who abandons his family.


Betrayed like the day I died in a car crash. I saw glimpses fading in and out until I felt tingling in my heart, my eyes shot open suddenly and I was gasping; my throat tightened because smoke had filled the car. My mouth was stained with a gagging sensation of metal. My neck felt like concrete but the urge to see my mother took over all my thoughts. I finally turned my head rewarded with immense pain and a sudden snap. My body began to convulse and the corners of my vision blotched with blackness. I willed myself to stay alert enough to see my mother, and I soon spotted her lying on her back a few yards from the car. She laid motionless, and if that wasn't enough to assume her death; the large shard of metal protruding from her stomach would be. Exasperated I let into my body shutting down, but not before something in the car was sizzling, it began to scorch my skin, then it was over.

She lived.

Did I betray her?

Did she betray me?

What is a List

Tear drops glide from my cheeks onto the paper that sleeps on my lap. It is blank.

This is my list of happiness and it is completely bare

A list is supposed to embody your soul but mine doesn't. It is supposed to hold the things I cannot live without, my purpose in life, yet it only hold the stillness after death.

My body tightens and anger mixes in with my tears. I grasp the paper, yelling, cursing but I know it will never  change. "WHY am I this way?" gurgles out of my mouth along with all my sadness. Corners crunch, the paper stretches agonizingly , cries out loud and rips and rips and rips until it lay silent on the floor.

I am breathing heavy as the madness takes over and glass begins to hit the floor and the walls.

I realize I am no longer in control of my own self and its almost as if I am watching from the sidelines, as something I no longer recognize begins to tear it's sanity apart.

It has never been the same since that day. I finally understood why I as never happy, because I was never me.

It was always it; controlling me, clawing through my skin, making my insane.

I watch it etch another tally mark onto the blank concrete, hidden as white and calming asylum walls.

It has finally taken over me, forever.

Insidious is the last word that passes my lips before I slip into the unknown world they title; Limbo.

The Moon

I wake up suddenly wheezing and my throat tight. My body trembles because yet again I dreamed of death. 

I dreamed of silence but not peace and I dreamed of darkness that inhabited me. Tears well up in my eyes 

because I finally realize that I am helpless because nothing can save me from my inner self. My dreams 

cannot be stopped or put in handcuffs and sent to jail. They are apart of me; a darker deeper side which is 

threatening to whisk away all my light.It all happens too fast and I start to feel my body convulse as the 

effects take hold; a searing pain that shoots in through my veins like a paralyzing drug. My body begins to 

bend and my bones break; with every snap I feel renewed strength unlike anything I could have felt before. 

My skin stretches and rage starts to pilot every inch of my being. It feels as if hot coals are being pressed 

into my pores and a yell starts to build up inside of my lungs until it overflows and bursts into a low 

monstrous bellow. My teeth grow into incisors, my fingernails stretch out inches from my finger tips as long 

sharpened claws. The pain twists the world in front of me and it all fades into black. Soon after I slowly start 

to fade in 

and out as if I'm drunk. I come to my senses but all I can do is spectate as my body is running through the 

narrow, dank woods. leaves and branches crunch underneath my weight and a muffled pant is escaping 

from my throat. I stop briefly on the side of a large mountain cliff and search up among the stars for the 

moon. Howls echo off the mountain range and ring through out the forest below. Sadness wells up in my 

soul; one bite, one mistake and now this is what I have become. I try to scream out loud in pain and 

frustration, but it seems that I am just a prisoner in this body that is no longer my own. Why must wolves 

howl at the moon? I guess it's now my turn to find out. 

Here a Love There a Love

Love has never been something you can touch.

Or taste

Or wrap in a box

Or put a label on

Or hold onto forever. Because it always seems like love eludes us.

What is love to me?

Well I know it's different from what you think.

I know it is sincere

I know it can be hard to catch

I know it can break my soul

I know it can not exist at all

I know it might be large
or small

I know that it may never have a definition at all.

What I do know is that you can't give up on love
 because if we did nothing in this world could compare.

LOVE is Music

Only Words Last the Wear

 I'm terrible with words because they rack my brain until I am sure I'm insane, but once my brain is free I can never feel this way or ever be this sane. I'll write you a story because words aren't anything without a purpose.

Pop a piece of gum. Breathe it out slowly. “It will be O.K.” Cheery, mood-lifting flowers ignite the breath and invigorate my senses.  He always seems to take a few deep with nature in which we find the instant surge in webbed areas.  He chuckles lightly under his breath "when you’re feeling frazzled, release an ax to grind." He increases his eyes lower to a number, companions suggest functioning from their hormones, but he doesn't want to. Put your own problems in the head, they teach. Relievers reading for the instant anxiety increased our strain. "You feel even more panicked stepping outside?" He choked.  He held my hand in his "Shake out an orange from beneath your thumb."he whispered into my ear sending chills up my arms. "Enough said" I grumbled as I took a step back. Our conversation ended as he stormed into the dark abyss. 

Special compounds overwhelm the quality of my calm combat within my soul. Spirits get up from the desks and curtails cry out within my blood pressure. That time wasted mentioning, distancing, yourself wants to feel close yet lowering jacks but who cares? With a drop dial gently stretched through a series of death in reduction where we often store the warm tub of our feelings. My tears creep through the soothing situations which will bring up guided imagery of my rejuvenated surroundings.

Calming breaths of peppermint cut through my pressure points as I close my eyes loosen the jaw and in an instant I take a jump falling for 20 to 30 seconds counting down the time plug my thoughts away and enjoy the soothing bubbles of death that begin to wash over me. I see a light;  a calming candlelight that begins to edge into the corners of my vision. My eyes blur and the chemicals in the brain begin to soothe and become slow-paced. My environment makes me lose myself and I feel free. The wind distracts my mind, my troubles seem to dissipate quickly and violently just like my body does as I hit the ground, or how I imagine it will . Every part of me stretches. My muscles relax, my heart rate instantly lowers and tension seems to have never existed. Death seemed to have creeped into our minds and poison our souls. Is death really our purpose, our life and fears? This world is a purpose of reality or a charade of our imaginations of what we once were or what we will never become. Only one true way to find the truth is to really find it.

Without Hope Without a Topic

I sat at my computer staring at the screen for an hour trying to think of a topic to write about. I procrastinated, watched some t.v., ate some food and finally found myself watching this video and clicking on tons of random things how I found these... I have no clue. Enjoy btw these were youtube videos haha...... #theydon'tworkatschool

"McDonalds actually does serve breakfast after 10:30, if u have a gun." -lawblob

Musical Dots

Frickin' Nasty

Zombies

My eyes flutter open and the small dank alleyway spreads out before me. I sit on the chilled ground next to a over turned dumpster. I brush the rats away from my feet and slowly stand up and stretch out my legs. I turn towards the entrance of the alleyway and see that it leads out into the streets of salt lake. The streets are packed with over turned cars and the smell of sewage burns my throat. 

I slowly step out of the alley and the sun kisses the side of my face. The sun continues to creep into the crevices of buildings lighting up the city,  and broken bits of glass, that litter the ground, glisten against the dust covered streets. 

Adrenaline creeps through my veins and the fear that I try to hide from starts to set in. I trudge through the streets trying to remember what it used to look like with people walking through the streets talking on phones or to one another. Now all that remains is fear which is plastered on the walls and on the faces of dead corpses who lie still in their cars. I examine every car and alley ways expecting to find someone even though the world has been dead for twenty years. I feel alone and lost. I haven't seen anyone for at least a week now but I can never be quite sure because my days seem to fade in and out and blur together. 

The sun starts to melt the chill that has inhabited my body and I almost feel happy or maybe just content. Can I feel happy when I l live in this world of never ending darkness? Can I feel happy now, even though I feel just as abandoned as this city? My stomach starts to ache from longing, for a better existence or food i'm not quite sure. My thoughts start to cloud my head and despair slides back into my emotions where he now seems to have made his home. 

I shuffle my bare feet along the ground and somehow the pain I feel as broken bits of glass cut deeper and deeper makes me feel better. I pull down on the backpack straps that lie on my shoulders trying to relieve the weight from my already aching back. 

I slow to a stop and deeply inhale taking in the smells of this city trying to forget the pain of memories that begin to flash through my head. The smells of a city in decay are not as bad as the rotting smell of flesh which wafts through my nostrils. Emptiness floods my heart and soul, and the longing pain in my stomach reappears. Everything good has been ripped away from me and all that remains is hopelessness and fear. I squeeze my pale arm and feel how my skin loosely hangs onto the bone and how it starts to peel and rot. I try to escape through old memories, but I fear I will be trapped in this existence until I finish off the last of humanity. But what I fear the most, is I don't think I will ever get used to this smell.

#GiveMeMyConfidenceBack

Why do I never get my assignments done on time in this class? Because I am so PISSED OFF ALL the time. I can never sit down and type because every second of every day I feel like breaking my keyboard, throwing a chair across the room or punching someone so hard I break something, why? Because right now my life SUCKS. {insert sport here} is a joke and it is tearing me fing apart. I come home emotionally exhausted because my shitty teamates are up in my face yelling at me or telling me that IM NOT GOOD ENOUGH. I have to deal with bitchy girls who whine and complain and blow up for no reason and im sick of it. GROW UP I feel like a one man army standing up to "queen" of all {insert sport here}. If she had dog shit all over her feet people would still kiss them, if she pissed on their face they would still give her cheers and follow her around not because they LIKE YOU. THEY ALL HATE YOU. You're pathetic and take it out on everyone else because you're life is so meaningless. You have to be the center of attention every second yelling and bossing people around because you SUCK at {insert sport here}!!!  You are the biggest two FACE BITCH I have ever encountered. I feel like leaving this school because of some teammates but also because of you "coach". You have ruined my life  ever since I came to this school!! Every day I feel like some forgotten piece of trash on the side of the road because you tear me down constantly!  all you ever have had are key favorites and everyone else is perishables. That ugly look on your face when you realize that I am going to be your key starting player this year is sickening to my stomach. I WAS ALWAYS BETTER THAN YOUR STARTER you NEVER gave me the chance because your favorite poured thousands of dollars into your fund!!  That's total BULLSHIT! I hate every single thing about you because you have ruined my high school experience. I feel stupid and like I don't matter because of the way you talk down to me! Every time I hear your voice I cringe because I always know what you say about me and the way you laugh when I make a mistake. You have torn me down so many times I cannot remember the last time I felt highly of MYSELF. YOU are the one that makes me bawl at night because I feel like I don't matter. YOU are the one that makes me hate going to school every day. YOU are the reason why I am TRANSFERRING BECAUSE I WANT THE HELL OUT OF THIS PLACE. You have made every practice a nice individual hell for me because it entertains you. I worked my butt off trying to show you I was right for the starting position and when you put her in game after game and I saw how much she SUCKED. You ripped out everything I have ever held dear; my self confidence. I KNOW I was better than her! I see you this year and I see how you have no other choice but me for the starting position, I see you panicked because you do not "trust" me. I see those other girls you're trying to train for MY POSITION because you know I hate you and I know you hate me. I am just hoping you see how great I have become so when I leave it leaves you panicked and when you start to lose your games I hope you think of me because I sure will be happy when you do.

Pictures

I found some 

Amazing pictures 


none of which would

fit the format of my

blog which sucks. 

I decided to show 

them here instead 

because they are 

just that epic.

I Am Here

What is a tourist? Someone who watches, waits and contemplates or someone who is lazy? I am both but now that I am here there is no road block standing in my way.

I am here through the light and darkness even the                                                           struggles and pain. 
I am always here, 
                           but perhaps not here for you
                                                         or even myself, 
  but through it all I know that I must be here and not there.      
          Because there means the past, and I hope to never be forgotten
 in such a way that I no longer                              have reason to exist.

      Can you really tell if you are here and not somewhere else? The scrape on your side or the cut on your thumb do you really feel them? How can you be sure you are living and breathing and not in the imagination of a book or a long lost thought doomed to a never have an ending?

 I know that I am living because when I feel lost I can find myself through pain, love, and loneliness. 

                                                                            You really never know your true self until you lose sight of what you think you should be. 

When you doubt yourself and start fighting to understand it unveils the truth of what you are; human and imperfect. 

(Like me for instance I SucK at punctuation and I do it anyways(just): for "fun" Because I want to and no one can scold me or tell me that I am wrong.) 

It is hard to find yourself in a world of uncertainty, yet the one way that has helped me fight my insecurities is to embrace them and move on. 

The world keeps turning and so must everything else. 

I am here because I fricking want to be! Screw other people and their lies I am perfect and so are you. Bam! 

Look at this kewl star I gave you. 

Happy Birthday. 

intro

This is a blog all about me
 it is free but not cheap and 
definitely one to keep on 
your watch list that is. I express 
my emotions either great or 
small I sure wish I was tall 
but for real this is my blog 
in which I share a personnel 
slice of my life. I will always
 be honest and true but it 
comes with a price. The price 
is your willingness to understand
 through and through because 
I'm being honest with you in turn 
you can too.