A Good Man's Death (Robert Lowe)

The day finally came. Over the past few weeks Mr. Lowe and I had become quite good friends. His stories always enraptured me and my company actually helped him he told me once. With each story I lived his life through his eyes and each one made me see something in myself. I got to where I would look forward to work for once. One night however, I walked in to see his bed empty. I didn't even need to ask what happened, because an empty bed around here always means the same thing.
His funeral was a small one. His will had set up his wishes and his belonging, the few he had, were donated to various charities. I was the only person in attendance. The crisp winter air licked my nose while the preacher spoke of the usual things. I stood there in awe, but not at the words. It was at the man leaving us. He was a great man who had done great things. His body was now gone but his spirit lived free, and I could feel him there. With his hand on my shoulder, I said my goodbyes as the Earth took him into its eternal embrace. Never will I forget this man, nor what he has done to me. Rest in peace Robert Lowe.

A War Worth Fighting (Robert Lowe)

I had just completed my nightly rounds when I glanced into Robert's room. He was awake in his bed just staring at the ceiling.
"Hey Mr. Lowe, how ya feeling?"
"Like a thousand pennies. Heavy as hell and not worth a damn." I laughed. It amazed me that even with how grim things looked he still had a sense of humor.
"Well I think we could get a bit more than ten bucks outta ya." He smiled before waving his hand at me. I looked at him solemnly for a moment. "Mr. Lowe, I wanted to ask you... how can you be so fearless in a time like this?"
"What, you mean being sick?"
"Yes. I think if I were told I was dying I'd be pretty upset."
"Well, when you've seen true courage, you realize just how small of a thing dying can be..."

It was 1917 and I, being a headstrong young man, felt it neccessary to help our neighbors across the sea. I joined the military and sure enough President Wilson had us sent over. The first few weeks was relatively peaceful, but when the fighting came, it came hard. I was stationed in Austria-Hungary. When we arrived the fighting had already begun. Our English comrades were peppering the German lines with grenades and shots as they prepared for a run. The last group to try and cross No Man's Land fell about half way through leaving a bloody line marking mid-field.
"Men get ready! You're the freshest we got so get ready to move!" The general yelled over the gun fire. I looked over the walls to see two rows of Germans making a move toward us, and saw the next second when they all stopped crawling at about the same point as our crew.
"When you go, crawl! Makes a smaller target even if it is slower!" I was practicaly shaking in my boots as we lined up ready to go. The Machine gunner prepared his gun to give us a few minutes of cover while we made our way across.
"Alright boys! Three two one... GO!" At his word we jumped from our places guns in hand and rolled onto the dirt. The machine gun fire behind silenced the German fire for a bit, but only until it reloaded. Next thing we saw was rows of German barrells pointed our direction. The gunfire fell upon us like a metal hail storm as we crawled forward. A shot hit the two men beside me. I was scared so much that I jumped from my position, just to be hit in the leg. I fell over onto the ground and lay still, hoping that a stray shot didn't come over to hit me. I lay there for what seemed like forever when I felt a hand grab my jacket and start pulling me to safety. Next thing I knew I was thrown into the trench and stared at my saviors sillouette as he rushed back out to get whoever else was left.
Hours later as I layed in the medic tent I found out that the man had been General Kufeir. I also found out that he had died from multiple shots he had aquired during his resuce of five men. I remained at war till it was over, and now I look back and see that it was all to make his sacrafice not in vain...

The Mines of Youth (Robert Lowe)

It was 1907 and the mines had just reopened. They had to be shut down after the last cave-in. I was sixteen and had to drop out of school to take up a job cause my daddy got hurt. The cave-in took a few workers so they were lookin for more. So, crack of dawn the next mornin' I was already in the elevator goin' down. The sound of the whistle grew dimmer as the night closed back around us. We flicked on the lights of our hard hats and walked out the door into the heavy air of the mines. The wind that did blow through made an eerie whistle through the caverns, but was soon covered by the sounds of picks and shovels as we went to work. I happened to be working beside a veteran of the hole, Patrick McCullen. He was a tall Irishman with a thick, scruffy beard and a frame built for digging.

"Bring ya pick above ya head and ya might get some more force outta it ya know." I knew he was talking to me, I wasn't having much success in getting through the rock.

"Thanks."

"Ya ain't gotta be so shy either. We're all men down 'ere. My name's Pat by the way." I stopped for a moment to shake his hand. "So why are ya down 'ere, shouldn't you be in school?"

"School's overrated. Besides, pa needed some help with the bills."

"Ah, I see. Well lad, if need any help, just call for Pat." He gave me a wink that I could barely see in the dim light then walked off. I continued picking away at the rocks for the next nine hours until we knocked off. That night went by too fast and before I knew it the whistle was ringing again. Pat was there again at the same spot and coached me for the next few weeks. One day the air seemed thicker than usual, but no one really noticed. The first few hours went by as usual, but then something happened. The wind wasn't blowing as much as usual.

"Stick close to the walls lad, I'm not sure what's coming, but it doesn't feel good." He continued to glance down the halls for the next hour. Finally the air got to be almost unbreathable and the next thing we knew a fireball was roaring through the tunnels. The few of us who could take cover managed to survive the blast, but the caves soon came down around us. I looked around but didn't see Patrock anywhere.

"PAT!" I screamed over the rumbling of the rocks, "PATRICK!" I scrambled to my feet. The explosion had left a small area I could move around in. The rocks above settled and then there was silence. As I continued to call my voice would echo around through the holes in the rocks. Finally I heard something. It was a low moan. Then I realized it was Pat. I rushed over to where I heard the sound and threw the rocks aside. I finally reached him and he was a horrible sight. His face was charred from the flames and his voice hoarse.
"Pat! Hold on, I'm going to get you out!"
"No lad, you're not. It's not worth the risk. These rocks above me could fall back onto ya."
"Pat," I said quietly holding back tears, "I'm going to. You've helped me, and now I'm going to help you." He protested again before he passed out. I slowly pulled rocks from him. Finally I pulled him free. I laid him out in the clearing before I too pased out. Next thing I knew we were in a hospital.
"Good you're awake." I heard the doctor come in, but he wasn't talking to me. He was talking to the man behind the curtains. "You owe your life to that kid over there. If he hadn't of pulled you free, you would have died no doubt."
"I know Doc, and believe me, he will too... is he ok?"
"Yes I do believe so. The fire scorched his back, but overall he's fine." I tried to roll over to see if it was me he was talking about, but the pain from my back assured me of the fact. "If you don't mind, I still need to check on him." He strolled over to the curtain and slowly pulled it aside.
"Ah, so you're awake too!"
"I think so."
"It's good, you've been out for about three days. That man over there has aksed about you for every one." I glance through the curtain at Pat. "You saved his life. He's not much for a face, but he's alive."
"How bad was the accident?"
"Bad. I have only seen a few survivors including you two. The lord himself must have been watching over you two." I just shook my head as he left. After we got out, Pat and I remained good friends. He died many years ago now...

The Bedside of Robert Lowe

It was a cold winter's eve at Jackson Hospital. Christmas was right around the corner but it was business as usual for us. The walls were beautifully decorated with garland and light, but the tree in the lobby was most beautiful of all. It was very big that year, and with the lights and tinsle it almost looked like a beacon of hope for the sick. They were old lights, the ones were if one blew they all went out, but they were much more luminous than the newer sets. In a way they reminded me of the old man in room 302. It was not his room, it was bare as a dried river bed, but the man himself. Robert Lowe was man who had seen much. He was eighty-two years old with hair white as the snow. He was always friendly and greeted the nurses by name every morning. He was terminaly ill with an unknown disease, and noone ever came to visit him, but somehow he was still just as cheerful as the big man himself. Now that I look back he was exactly the opposite of me. I was very bitter back then... I had bills I couldn't pay, my wife had left me, and my work seemed duller than ever, and even though at the time I was faking sincerity, I'm glad I listened to that old man. Every night I would sit by his bedside and listen to his stories. I worked the night shift and while everyone was asleep, I would sit with him as he enraptured me with his stories. I even remember the first one. The one about the mines...

History

It's funny how material things can mean so much to so many people. History is one thing that we all have even if some don't want it. No matter if it's a building we used to hang out at or a toy we used to play with, or even a home we wish to leave behind. History is one thing that always eludes us but is ever present. We must learn from it if we wish to leave more behind. Our future generations will depend on it just as we have, whether they learn from it or not. If they do, they choose the path of most people before us. Refusing to learn from the past and walking down the dark road to destruction in a time so short that the universe forgets to blink. That's what history means to me. Hoepfully it means the same to some of you.

What Are We Becoming

What has become of the human race. It seems like we're on a constant spiral down into an abyss form which we may never return. Over centuries past civilizations have risen and fallen back into the wastes, but there has always been another to take its place. Now, however, it almost seems like the whole world is one civilization now. If one collapses, we all fall. Unity is one thing but symbiotic existence is another entirely. We are constantly doing things to drive ourselves, and in essensce everyone else, into oblivion. Increasing debt leading to desperate times and starined lives then turning into violent times. The apocalypse is upon us, though it will not be the end. Apocalypse originally meant an unvieling. That is what has to happen for us to live on. Otherwise we are doomed to suicide on a massive scale, and by the time enough people realize it, it will already be too late.

Headline News

Welcome people to Healine News. I'm Beauty Jones, and yes, I'm better looking than you. In other news, today's top story, involves the coming of the mole people, and are they a threat? Peruzia Smith is live inside the community with the story.
"Hello Peruzia, how are you?"
"Eeek eck up."
"Smith, English please."
"Oh sorry, I've gotten used to their language. It's really quite easy once you figure out-"
"Smith.."
"-once you figure out that the sounds-"
"SMITH! Just do the story."
"Oh yes the story right. Well Beauty, the mole people are really quite intelligent. They're academics are comparable to ours at worst, and they're art is stunning. They are really a friendly race. In fact I had a few offered to have me for dinner not too long ago. They wouldn't say what we were having, but the description sounded scrumptuous."
"Yes Smith sounds lovely. But do you believe they pose a threat?"
"No not at all Beauty. In fact, I'm saddened by their coming doom."
"What do you mean?"
"Well they're going to die."
"Why?"
"Well, that's what we do. We kill stuff. We're good at it."
"But you said they posed no harm?"
"Yes, they do not."
"Then why would we kill them?"
"Well why not?"
"What kind of question is that?"
"The same one the Commander-in-chief is going to ask his generals."
"Good point. Well folks that all for today. Thanks you Smith, and hopefully we'll get to talk to you again soon. Good night folks."

"Headline News! The stuff Fox won't even talk about." -POW!-

Limited Space

Ok. Real world aspect on 2012. There wouldn't really be limited space. Instead of having one place to store the human world while the rest goes to hell is a stupid idea. Sure lots would die but just like in Katrina it would be PRIMARILY because of their own stubborn ways (many did die in the aftermath and even just because of bad chance but most CHOSE to stay). Instead of the one place theory, I would use all of this money that's being put toward pig farts and ignorant research and build bunkers all over the nation (not the world cause they hate us anyways). And few material possessions would be allowed. Things such as the Mona Lisa would not be saved, for once the end has come what use is culture. It was good for the time but once a new age has dawned man's most important assest will be himself, not a painting by some dead guy. Overall the good of mankind is more important than the culture that used to be, and the culture of the day would survive through the survivors and create new masterpieces for the new world.

Bleh

I sit here staring at the white space on the screen and wonder... just who uses these bogus products on this website. Their stupid. But sometimes their funny. I mean, a chicks face on Arnold Shwarchenagers (spelling?) body is pretty scary, but Arny's face on a chicks body is funny as hell. And aliens... I like the idea of aliens. The fact that there's someone out there who lives a peaceful enough life that they can take time to come laugh at us makes me think maybe we can do the same thing someday... even though this is a theory just as easily dismissed as aliens. But don't take these thoughts too lightly, they take a long time to gether, even in the random order in which they appear. I mean, think of noodles. There's alot of em in a bowl, and no matter how hard you try, they will NEVER lay straight. And if you pull too hard, it becomes another noodle entirely and things get even more difficult! But none the less you can use the noodles. Taken one at a time you can see the differences, or alot at a time they make a nutritious treat. Either way they make a comtribution. And without noodles, would we have mac and cheese? But now I am gone... I really want noodles now.

The Creed

The moon shone through the cloud covered sky upon the dark city below. During the day the streets were filled with activity as people traded with one another, but at night they lay desolate and empty. Tonight, however, a single creature moved across the rooftops of the small town . A silhouette, only slightly visible against the hard brown mud of the roofs, skirted from one building to another with amazing agility and speed, almost as if driven by something to its destination. Soon it came upon a large, fantastic building adorned with gold accents and large doors. What it was looking for slept just beyond those walls. Silently the creature jumped to the ground and moved to the unguarded side of the building. It looked up the towering wall, focusing on the task at hand instead of the death that would surely come if he was seen. So without any further hesitation, he latched onto the wall and began to scale. Foot by foot he worked his way up to the top of the dome. He stared down into the serene beauty of the palace and for one second he broke the number one rule of the creed. "Never think of your target as a person. Never see the beauty of the soul within his eyes, nor the evil that you know lurks beneath." No creature would live in a place such as this. "But that's all this man is, a creature." he thought. Coming back to reality, he moved stealthily down into the chamber below, ready for the blood bath that was soon to come.

Rhyme of the Eternal Warrior

Blackened are his boots, rusted his blade,
Trudging away, through the barren wastes, destroyed is his home.
With blood on his clothes and grit on his teeth,
He battles his way alone.

No army against him, they all shall soon fall,
Feeling the bite of his sword to their bone,
Taking his vengeance, leaving the waste,
By him the wicked shall atone.
Paying for sin, the spilling of blood,
No one is safe as long as he roams.

The battles are fierce, the nights are long, upon all Rome shall his revenge be wrought.
Till his family avenged, and the evil is gone, across the plains of madness shall he walk.

The death of food

The death of something we love dearly and can't live without comes from one place and one place only... McDonald's. The best of these burgers can induce extreme symptoms including death.......... of the all American burger. They are a sorry homage to the true beef of other companies including my favorite, Dairy Queen. The difference is so vast that the latter hardly be a burger but rather a "beef" patty and some bread. For the true burger comes with a juice laden interior encompassed by a crisp exterior piled high with cheese and more beef to be topped with a generous portion of habanero sauce. Such burgers are a staple of the American diet, no matter how bad they are for it. But as great as these kinds of things are this blog has only done one thing... made me hungry for a burger.

Halloween

Halloween is one of the most fun times of the year. With goblins and ghouls and creatures about, its hard to find anything original. One year however, my last year, I went out as something truly terrifying, something that no kid can resist... Santa Claus! With my bright red hat, jolly white beard, and bleeding hockey mask i was the terror of the small subdivision. It wasn't a very comfortable suit, but when the kids ran up to you then away in fright, it was well worth it!

Quotes

"Living just isn't enough, you've got to feel every minute of it."
"What happens to the man when he just isn't enough?"
"Being satisfied and being happy are two totally different things. Happiness is hard to find, satisfaction just lays between the sheets."
"Where does the sun go when the dark comes in?" (complements of my cousin)
"If things were meant to be then why do they always end?"
"If darkness opposes light, then why do fireflies always show up?"
"Love is the lack of utter disgust between two parties"
"The question is not how far, but do you have the constitution to go as far as is needed." (Boon dock Saints)
"Stupidity: The lack of common sense. Genius: An even greater lack of the same thing."
"Mediocre? I don't know about you but at least being mediocre makes it harder to be hit."
"Eccentricity is just a long word meaning wierd."
"Who needs a pen? Thoughts look better when their not written down." (complete contridiction to this post I guess.)
"If the sun was a lolipop i would eat it!"
and last but certainly not least.........
"I didn't get in trouble, the cops were just a mere formality."

Haha

Moonlight dawns and the mornin' shines,
We're wiskin away on the waves and the tides
Not a care in the world and a world full of fun,
We're pushin our way toward a night on the run.

We push and we pull,
We dance in the night,
We swing and we sway and thats alright,
A party we live, a party for life
We might fall down but we take it in stride.
A life we may lead is a life full of fun,
Not even adulthood can slow the gun.

Inspiration

Its funny how certain songs, movies, or even phrases can inspire such strong feelings to the right people. Even the images we see everyday can fill you with thought after really seeing it just one time. But this is the way of inspiration. It is something we control, but involuntarily. It is like the beat of our heart or the draw of our breath. It is always there, but reveals itself to us when it is ready. It can pull you out of the darkness into the day and breath into you things you would never imagine. It is a great thing, and when it is used great things come from it.

Red blooded

People call themselves "red-blooded americans" when there's nothing in their veins but yellow. The nation has lost touch with its past and looks forward to what will become regrets of the future. They give power to the first person to speak of change and depend on others to give them what they so dearly need. The true Red Blooded Americans were the people who fought for themselves, lived self-supplied lives, and believed they could conduct themselves better than their government. These people are few and far between now days and fall ever more into darkness as the days fly by. The people left are the ones that will break this country and will eventually lead to a rebuilding and restoration to glory, and the cycle will continue.

1990 Ford F-150

My truck was once a proud vehicle. My fully loaded Ford F-150 with the supercab and 302 once roared down the roadways as a beast through his domain. Now, however, it is lucky to make it to where we want to go. Its beat up body shows its age and the funny idle of the motor smells of decay. The three matching tires are almost bald while the fourth is basically a toupe, just a spare covering up what is not there. The bolts are stripped, the oil lines clogged, and it reminds me of a middle aged man. But no matter how much I hate it, I enjoy my truck and enjoy working on it.

College

I think I've figured out something about college today. I was sitting in the chairs of Goodwynn Hall listening to my friends chatter about biology class. They were complaining about how their teacher was never specific enough, would ramble on about the subject, and never told them what to expect. This got me to thinking, maybe he doesn't have to? Maybe college isn't about just learning something new, but maybe it's supposed to get you to see connections so when you DO face something new, it's not that complicated. I don't know how few people really realize this, but now that I think about it it seems really self-evident. High school is about info, but college is about experience.

Sir Greg

The two men fought valiantly for the hand of Lady Berchuss. Their swords clashed in a constant harmony sounding off each swing of the blade. Sir Greg knew that Benjamin would stop at nothing to take the lady as his own, but he was determined not to let that happen. He would fight on for as long as needed to stop such a fate. Back and forth the battle swayed as one gained an advantage then the other. The lady looked on in awe as the two waged a never ending war. Finally Sir Greg caught the leg of his opponent with his and brought him tumbling to the ground. Benjamin had not even moved to get up when he saw the tip of a blade in his face.
"AHA Sir Benjamin! You have been bested!"
"I might have you knave, but take no pride in your victory!"
"And just why not?"
"Because your bride is..."
"What say you?!"
"SHE IS A DOG!"
"WOOF!" barked Berchess as she rushed over to lick the fallen child. Greg threw down his stick in defeat.
"You're not supposed to say that. She's a lady."
"Well, it let me win didn't it?" Ben laughed at the sight of his friend's downcast look which suddenly became a smile.
"Yeah but it's still cheating." Greg said spitting a big raspberry his way.
"KIDS! TIME FOR SUPPER!" It was Greg's mom calling the kids in for dinner. The children rushed off with Lady Berchess nipping their heels leaving the land of the brave for now.

10 reasons for me not to write an auotobiography

10. Not enough time.
9. Not enough attention span.
8. not enough memory.
7. some things people shouldn't know.
6. most things people wouldn't WANT to know.
5. Some things I don't want to know.
4. I'm just not like that.
3. It would be very offensive.
2. As well as wierd.
1. Self-incrimination is unconstitutional! (draw what you wish from that)

7 signs it's time to take a bath

1. You can still smell last week's garlic chicken.
2. Others can still smell last week's garlic chicken.
3. Flys start to circle you instead of the compost yard.
4. Said flys begin to die.
5. You flatulate and people ask if you put on deodorant.
6. You begin to taste last week's garlic chicken.
7. The government starts writing you tickets for air pollution.

Fight or Flight

The moon peaked out from behind the clouds on that dark night as four men stood on the edge of a canyon, preparing to meet their fate. They each checked their black vinyl wing suits making sure every ruffle was right.
"So, any last requests?" the oldest of the four asked.
"Yeah, a bottle of Jack and a girl from home." The men laughed but quickly fell silent as the leader looked back around. He was tall and looked as though he could tear a man apart with his hands. His stature was that of a man who had seen it all, and he had, twenty years as a SEAL has that kind of an effect on you.
"Glad to see you still have a sense of humor in a time like this Gus." Joseph smiled.
"Does this look like a face that's joking to you?" he gave the leader his most serious look before he burst back into laughter. "Joseph, you gotta lighten up. Might not get the chance to after tonight."
"Yeah boss, here I got somethin' for ya." Randolf reached into his pack and pulled out a bottle of 100%, all American moonshine. "This'll put a kick in ya step." He took the bottle and filled each man's canteen cap before proposing a toast. "To the history behind us, the fight before us, and the legacy we leave behind. Let the world know that the four lost behind the lines were found amidst the bodies of their enemies. AYE!"
"AYE!" they all said in unison as they turned up their caps.
"Alright men," Joseph said as he threw his cup to the ground, "grab your guns and get ready for a ride. A storm is coming and we are the lightening as it strikes upon the ground. We will make them feel the force of desperate men in desperate times. So make the jump boys, and keep your fingers crossed. Now let's go!" He screamed as they leaped from the edge and flew like angels of death upon the camp below where the prisoners were held.
Come hell or high water, they would charge through the camp and release every one of the captives while giving one hell of a fight. The four would fall as soldiers, but in the eyes of those they rescued, they would live on as heroes.

Descriptive Practice

Tim Finnegan was a tall brutish sort. His tangled red hair hung down to his drawers, and his beard down to his boots. His kilt was a plaid, green as the grass, his pipes hung about his chest, colored to match. His face was wrinkled with age and time, and his scars bore the weight of his youthful shine. A voice that was loud, and a stature that was proud, Tim Finnegan would fight any about. He walked with a cane through the streets where he was born, always muttering about the modern day, object of his scorn. A hat would sit atop his head, as he would walk back to his stead. He slammed the door shut and turned out the lights, for Tim Finnegan would not see through the night.

ok one thing I hate

I hate more than anything, these people who drag around and feel sorry for themselves all the time. Not the people who have a down day once in a while (hell I have em too) but the ones who are consistently like that. The ones who don't try to look up but find it much easier to be down. I don't know i'm just tired and a wee bit irratated but this helps some lol.

25 Things I'll Never Do

1. I'll never live in China or North Korea
2. Do Drugs
3. Cheer for Alabama (football)
4. Finish this list
5. Beat "Causiality"
6. Play with barbie dolls
7. Enjoy listening to Justin Timberlake Xp
8. Get tired of the Dropkick Murphys
9. Try to stop a bar fight
10. Turn down tickets to a Dropkick Murphys concert
11. Want to fight a platypus
12. Make it to #15
13. Learn to play the violin (Bagpipes are better XD)
14. Take psychology
15. Eat snails (again)
16. Kill myself (on purpose anyways lol)
17. Figure out texting language completely)
18. Destroy the Zaitan race of galaxy 87

Joseph's Vision

As Joseph lay quietly asleep, a war was raging behind his tightly closed eyes.
Black Clouds rolled against a blood red horizon as they steamrolled toward the small town that lay in it's path. Residents stepped out onto their front step to see what had torn such a beautiful, sun touched day into a crimson torrent of thunder and lightening. Children cried as the sound grew louder. As the air rumbled and the earth quaked, the distinct sound of hooves pushed through. The panic among the people continued to grow until out of the churning void rode a single horseman atop a red horse. A sword at his side, he and his minions surged out of the cloud and came upon the town in a bloodswept fury. And as the town was enveloped by darkness, Joseph jolted awake. Sweat drenched and frozen in fear, his eyes scanned the room to find it exactly where he had fallen asleep, and even though he was awake, he could still feel the burning eyes of the horseman pierce his soul. Even as he lay back down to go to sleep, he thought of it. Even though it migh've been only a dream, something evil was on it's way.

It's Raining

The rain is coming down out of the sky again. Seems like that's all it does now. Last year you could call hell and it'd be a local call, this year we're basically Atlantis without all the cool stuff. Sure it's been hot, but not as bad as it has been before. They say global warming is happening at a drastic rate, but personally I think it's a load of bull hockey. That reminds me... whatever they say will hapen when hell freezes over, did all that happen last year? I don't think I saw a pig fly though... especially not out of my you know where... I don't know. Though I would like to. It is nice sometimes.

High School Dictator

If I were put in charge of my High School, a lot of changes would be made. The day would be longer, but we would have Fridays off. Mp3 players would be allowed to an extent, the food would be actually cooked instead of brought back to life, and people would be encouraged to express themselves instead of fall in line. Fights would be allowed to be settled in a controlled environment (boxing, the likes) and at least one technical course would be required. The graduation standards would be raised, even if the number dropped, and archery would become a school sports team. The parking lot would have cameras that worked rather than fake scar tactics, and punishment for offenses would be stricter (considering the offenses that are against the rules themselves had been decreased in number). Students would be looked at as people, and treated as such until reason given not to, and teachers would be held to a higher standard of behavior and demeanor, instead of just academics. My school would not be perfect, but since when has perfect been good?

I Remember

I remember from when I was a kid the time I'd gotten lost at the fair. My parents, brother, and I had all went to the fair in Montgomery to have a bit of fun. We rode the rides, ate funnel cakes, and played games, but I had started to get bored. I had wanted to go into the "Haunted House" but my parents had said it wasn't worth the wait in the line. So while they were playing one of the games, I slipped off. I got up to the front of the line and snuck in when the ticket man wasn't looking.
I got in and personally it was fun (but being a seven year old that wasn't saying too much). I stumbled through the tilted room, walked through the hall of mirrors, and watched the walls of the spinning tunnel go around. While I was having my fun however, my parents had been looking for me and had enlisted the help of some of the police officers. I strolled out of the house, but when one of the policemen saw me and started walking towards me I thought I was in trouble and ran off. What was I supposed to do? I didn't know my parents had asked them for help. So I ran. I was young, and couldn't run very fast, but I moved easier through the crowd. I thought I had gotten away from him and was about to look for my parents when three of the officers got around me. They picked me up (struggling the whole time) and eventually got me back to my parents. It might not have been much, but it was my first exploration adventure, and I will remember it forever.

I'm Tired

My back has an ache
And it's half past eight,
My head is on fire
But I can't just retire,
I'll be damned I'm tired.

My feet reek
And I need to brush my teeth,
I wish the new stock boy would be fired,
The milk in the fridge has expired,
I'll be damned I'm tired.

So now I'm beaten, battered and bruised,
My shoes are very used,
And though I can still reach higher,
I'll be damned I'm tired.

Reply To Archer Comment

Archer, I appreciate your comment (even if it happens to be on the wrong page). I assume you're talking about my comment in "Die Fighting". People have always held their own destinies in their hands, even today, but most decide to give it up to whatever the world or (in the case I presented) the government decides for them. "Leaders have told us what to do since the beginning of civilization, and while it is sometimes smart to follow, its not always the best. People have free will and have the freedom to exercise it, even if the government doesn't like it. I have always believed in the saying that one man can change the many, and we have seen many examples of this in the years past. They decide to change their destinies. A beggar "destined" to die in the streets, could in essence become a powerful ruler one day based on what he does. The best example of this though is where I spawned the phrase, the health care reform. The plan can basically dictate who receives treatment and who does not and this rips destiny from your hands and the date you are to die is decided for you. I know many people fighting against it, trying to keep this bit of their lives intact, but many more are willing to hand their destinies over to the government. But overall, do not believe for an instant that your destiny is decided for you, for you can take control and make a difference, even if it's to only one person you have still changed your destiny. Thank you for the comment, never had such a spark come from my first on a blog.

The Rooftop

As I lie here and look toward the sky,
I ponder on where you are, and if I'm on your mind.
I see the stars and feel their glow,
I watch the moon, and suddenly I know.
I see your face, I feel your smile,
I taste your lips and all the while,
I know I'm with you, and you with me,
Even if it's only a rooftop, it's where I'll be.

Die Fighting

It's a concept that very few believe in now days. The military we are so proud of is comprised, for the most part, with guys just trying to make an "easy" living. Even few civilians are true, red-blooded Americans now days and it pains me to know that. They don't care that people have died fighting for the freedoms they enjoy, and they hand over their freedom and their lives to their government, expecting them to make everything all better. Your life is something meant to be lived and cared for by you, not the people trying to make a buck of your existence. People don't believe in things anymore like they used to. There was once a day where people held there destinies in their own hands, controlled only by the random forces of the universe, while now people fall in line to whatever leader can give a good speech, and people just weren't meant to live that way. The current administration doesn't help. With government health care, government takeovers, government aid (causing ever increasing debt), and a large number of people willing to just do as their told instead of speaking up and saying "No! We want to live the way we want!", the dreams our forefathers are withering away like a rose in its final hours. People need to wake up before the great nation of America ends up like the lost city of Atlantis, dead, gone, and lost to the world. They need to look around and realize what they've got, and decide that its definitely worth it to die fighting.

A Million Miles

Here and there,
There or here,
Words we hear everywhere,
But they say there is never here.

They put things in a distance,
Separated by many miles,
pull them apart by perspective,
When you were here all the while.

You may not be by my side,
But you reside within my mind.
In my heart, near my lungs,
Your breath filled me up with every song you've sung.

So forget the here, never mind the there,
As far as I'm concerned, I never did care.

The Boondock Saints

What do you get when you mix guns, the mafia, two pissed off Irishmen, and a lot of beer? The Boon Dock Saints, and possibly the greatest movie of all time. The story follows two brother who're always up for a good time as they go from the friendly fools from around the block, to "the vengeful striking hammer of god" (Boon Dock Saints). The roots of the movie pull from a question man has asked since the beginning of law and the creation of criminals, if the wicked are not punished by the law, should they by man? The vigilantes soon find that they may be but two in number, but help comes from strange places. Fact and fiction are not so far apart from the point of view The Boon Dock Saints imposes because many people agree on one fact, the evil will walk from the justice system, but someone needs to be there to receive them on the other side. "And Shepards we shall be, for thee my lord for thee..." (Boon Dock Saints)