Tired I am,
Sad I was,
Then I found her,
The girl of my dreams.
So soft and warm
She is to me,
In the best form,
Just like a bee.
I love her at night,
And love her in the morning.
She holds me nice and tight
But we know that I am growing.
Our relationship is strange,
It is in deed.
We fight at every age,
But then we plant a new seed.
Some nights we don't get along,
In the morning I can't leave you,
After a long day, you make me feel so strong
And when I'm not my best
And I say achoo
You let me rest
It's all a rue.
Bedtime stories are the best,
We can cuddle,
You are my nest.
You're perfect for me,
I'm perfect you.
It's obvious you see,
It's just us two.
So soft and warm,
She is to me,
In every storm,
And every tree.
Dark and silent,
Just like a worker bee,
Tired I said,
So lets count to three,
My love,
My tree,
My everything,
My bed
Fly! Don't Fall!
Fly! Don't Fall!
Friday, July 25, 2014
Monday, February 10, 2014
The Question of LIfe
I do not know why, but right now I am questioning life and how it all started. Their are so many mysteries in this weird that are unsolvable. We all wonder how we were all created but currently I'm really searching for the answer. If you look in the Bible it says that Earth and the whole Solar System was created by God. God was the one who started the Big Bang and created life. God plainly said, "Here's the ocean," "Here's trees and plants," "Here's life." It does not make much sense to me. Is it really that simple? I also have theories that our lives may just be a women's imagination or it could just be the Matrix. I do not actually know. I'm just wondering how we all actually got here and how we've done so well. Did Adam and Eve rise from the soil of the Earth and wandered the Earth and mated and created our civilization. If so, how did they survive? They had like 11-children and they some how kept them all alive. Although, they were newly born and they some how knew how to hunt and gather food and create shelter. Did God give them all of these abilities, and if so, why don't we have these natural instincts. I'm just questioning everything and I would really like some answers to how everything began. I mean, even when the Earth was created we didn't have life for over 5,000 years and then the dinosaurs some how appeared. But before we had the dinosaurs we had prehistoric plants that seem like they would be on some other planet. It doesn't seem real but it is, thanks to science. But science just get's more in the way. So how did the Earth, and us animals, come to be? Is it like Prometheus and we were created by aliens? Is it like the Matrix and we're just in some computer program, that's run by other robots? And if all of that is true, how was all of that created? How were those aliens, that created us, come to be? How us humans, that created the ruling Matrix robots, come to be? How are we here? Who created us? I need answers...
Sunday, January 19, 2014
New to the battlefield
I've always wanted to join the military but I've never been sure what branch I should join and what it would be like. I'm also not a very big, tall, muscular man. I always wanted to join the Marines, but like I said, I'm not very big so I physically couldn't join the Marines.
I'm a very kindhearted person and I don't think I could ever hurt a person but I really wanted to serve and help and defend my country but I wouldn't ever be able to pull the trigger on any living thing. That's why I've decided to join the United States Coast Guard. I was looking at the Navy but all I would be doing everyday, all day would be sitting in a giant boat going across the ocean, waiting for the bad guys to go fishing. I'd rather join the Coast Guard, to save people, protecting out coasts and borders, and protecting our country for so many other dangers every god damn day! Coast Guard is what I really want to do. I want to be an Aviation Survival Technician or a Meritime Specialist.
I'm a very kindhearted person and I don't think I could ever hurt a person but I really wanted to serve and help and defend my country but I wouldn't ever be able to pull the trigger on any living thing. That's why I've decided to join the United States Coast Guard. I was looking at the Navy but all I would be doing everyday, all day would be sitting in a giant boat going across the ocean, waiting for the bad guys to go fishing. I'd rather join the Coast Guard, to save people, protecting out coasts and borders, and protecting our country for so many other dangers every god damn day! Coast Guard is what I really want to do. I want to be an Aviation Survival Technician or a Meritime Specialist.
Monday, December 9, 2013
The Game is War
Chapter 1
The black smoke had cleared from the tattered battle ground. Sal was plastered to the ground holding his M4. My ears were still buzzing from the explosion of the mortar that landed at least 20 feet from us. The only thing I could actually understand from Sal was, "Get down!" In the next few seconds a glimmering object in the distance was staring right at me. Sniper! As the shot rang out into the air I jumped towards Sal. The bullet glazed my ear and left it scratched. Blood trickled down my ear. Sal touched my ear and screamed to me, "It'll be fine! Just rub some dirt on it!"
Sal was an Australian soldier that was stationed in America to give support, during the war. Originally Sal was an Australian social worker who had no excitement in his life. Once he was drafted into the Australian army he said he was more excited then sad and worried. He thought that this was his time to see the world and feel death grip his soul, in a good way. I don't actually understand how having death grab you by the soul was good, but Sal was a strange man.
I kept searching the black blood land for any stragglers from the explosion but I had other reasons for searching the unholy land. Sal looked to me and asked me, "Why do you keep looking out into the motionless crowd." I told him I was looking for survivors. He shook his head and said, "No, no mate! I know you're looking for something else!" I looked down at the ground and looked back to him
"I'm looking for my father."
"Your father? Sorry mate, but if your pap is here he's most likely dead!"
"I know, but if he was I'd at least like to find his body."
"Well I'll help you find him, but it may be hard to locate him."
"Why?"
"Because he might be scattered everywhere so it's going to be a puzzle to put him all back together."
Sal laughed at his own joke. I stayed there motionless, but wanting to cry because I knew he was probably right. Sal said some pretty mean things but at least he was honest. Most of the men here will lie to your face. One man stole a piece of my bread, right in front me, and told me he had no idea where it went. At least when Sal takes my bread and soup he tells me, flat out, that he took it and ate it.
We kept searching the field but it was impossible for several reasons: There were too many bodies, the black, choking smoke blocked our view, and bullets kept censoring our beady eyes. I finally gave up and believed that either my father was dead or wasn't there that day. I wanted to be optimistic but I knew that the truth was that he was probably dead.
The gunfire began to cease and Sal and I were left alone in the broken house. We decided to move to another building that had a house, just in case if there was rain or if there was a drone looking for warm bloods. We moved across the field with stealth by crawling and going from cover to cover. We reached our destination and settled in the upstairs master bedroom. The house was very nice looking. There was a broken chandelier on the ground that looked like a fortune and the house was almost as big as a mansion, or at least was. The other side of the house had a hole the size of the 9/11 memorial, in the ground. The bedroom we were in had beautiful red and mustard colored drapes with paintings that looked like they were painted by Picasso. Sal and I took the King sized mattress and placed it up against the windows to make the room dark. We placed blankets on the ground and made sure we were facing the door, just in case if an intruder decided to play find the rag dolls. I never understood why the Russians and the Syrians called us rag dolls. Sal said it was because they thought they could control us and that we were just play things. I thought it was nonsense.
Sal looked over to me and asked me, "Chris, how old are you?" Me and Sal had met a few hours ago and saved each others lives a few times, so we didn't know each other too well. "I'm 17 years old, sir." He laughed and placed a cigar into his mouth. "First of all don't call me sir, ever. And second, boy you ain't supposed to be putting your life on the line just yet. You still have one year left to live, mate. I say go live outside of the black blood zones. Go home and be with your family." I looked down to the floor and told him, "I don't have a family anymore." Sal looked to me and smiled, with the cigar in his mouth. "I'm sorry to hear that," he said. "But if there's one thing that I learned back in Australia that no matter where you are, you will always find home. But this ain't home, boy. And don't try to make it one. You'll regret that decision." I smirked and went into the next room. I needed time alone. I didn't want to tell Sal about my father.
My father was in the Navy but was switched over to the Army once the war started. He was stationed here in Washington, so I was hoping I'd see him somewhere. I hadn't seen my father in 10 years so maybe I did see his cold, bloodied face. I just didn't recognize it. But I at least wanted have one living family member, in this world. My mother died of a stroke 2 years ago and my sister, Sarah, was killed by a bomber, in our old house. I had no where else to go so I joined the Army to look for my family and fight for the girl of my dreams, Vanessa. But Vanessa is a whole other story so I'm not getting into that.
Night fell and Sal and I were stuck in the house until morning. We placed a few candles around the room and placed a few spare mines downstairs. We wiggled into our blankets and kept our 45s under our pillows.
In the middle of the night I pulled out my pistol and pointed it at the door when I heard a scream. I slowly got up and went to the window and looked out. The night was dead, but the scream kept scattering through the air. Then I heard another scream. Then I heard another and another and another. I kept looking outside feverishly but I could not see any living being screaming. The screams kept occurring. I curled up on the floor and covered my ears until they stopped. Then all of them, except one, stopped. The scream was faint but the scream was trying to say something. "C....." I placed my ear against the window and tried harder to make out what the scream was saying. "C....." Something dropped outside of the door and made a loud thud. I then looked back and saw a dark, bloodied figure outside. It looked at me with it's dark eyes. It was a blonde woman with blood streaked down her hair. I almost thought she was a brunette. She took her eyes away from me and turned to a dead body on the ground. She pointed to the body and kept whispering something. I then heard another thud and I looked behind me. She was there with her cold finger right in front of me, right on the tip of my nose. I pulled my gun out of my holster and placed it in front of her face. My hand shook so much that I almost dropped my pistol. The figure kept whispering the word I couldn't understand. "C...." "What?" I asked. She tilted her head and looked me right in the eyes. "CHRIS!"
"Chris! Chris, my boy we're under attack!" I jumped up from the bed and grabbed my M4. Sal and I ran out the door, avoiding every mine placed and jumped the fence. We ran to the building across the street and went into defensive mode. I shook my head and realized that the creepy woman was just a dream. It was all just a dream. It was all just a dream. It was all just a dream...
To be continued...
The black smoke had cleared from the tattered battle ground. Sal was plastered to the ground holding his M4. My ears were still buzzing from the explosion of the mortar that landed at least 20 feet from us. The only thing I could actually understand from Sal was, "Get down!" In the next few seconds a glimmering object in the distance was staring right at me. Sniper! As the shot rang out into the air I jumped towards Sal. The bullet glazed my ear and left it scratched. Blood trickled down my ear. Sal touched my ear and screamed to me, "It'll be fine! Just rub some dirt on it!"
Sal was an Australian soldier that was stationed in America to give support, during the war. Originally Sal was an Australian social worker who had no excitement in his life. Once he was drafted into the Australian army he said he was more excited then sad and worried. He thought that this was his time to see the world and feel death grip his soul, in a good way. I don't actually understand how having death grab you by the soul was good, but Sal was a strange man.
I kept searching the black blood land for any stragglers from the explosion but I had other reasons for searching the unholy land. Sal looked to me and asked me, "Why do you keep looking out into the motionless crowd." I told him I was looking for survivors. He shook his head and said, "No, no mate! I know you're looking for something else!" I looked down at the ground and looked back to him
"I'm looking for my father."
"Your father? Sorry mate, but if your pap is here he's most likely dead!"
"I know, but if he was I'd at least like to find his body."
"Well I'll help you find him, but it may be hard to locate him."
"Why?"
"Because he might be scattered everywhere so it's going to be a puzzle to put him all back together."
Sal laughed at his own joke. I stayed there motionless, but wanting to cry because I knew he was probably right. Sal said some pretty mean things but at least he was honest. Most of the men here will lie to your face. One man stole a piece of my bread, right in front me, and told me he had no idea where it went. At least when Sal takes my bread and soup he tells me, flat out, that he took it and ate it.
We kept searching the field but it was impossible for several reasons: There were too many bodies, the black, choking smoke blocked our view, and bullets kept censoring our beady eyes. I finally gave up and believed that either my father was dead or wasn't there that day. I wanted to be optimistic but I knew that the truth was that he was probably dead.
The gunfire began to cease and Sal and I were left alone in the broken house. We decided to move to another building that had a house, just in case if there was rain or if there was a drone looking for warm bloods. We moved across the field with stealth by crawling and going from cover to cover. We reached our destination and settled in the upstairs master bedroom. The house was very nice looking. There was a broken chandelier on the ground that looked like a fortune and the house was almost as big as a mansion, or at least was. The other side of the house had a hole the size of the 9/11 memorial, in the ground. The bedroom we were in had beautiful red and mustard colored drapes with paintings that looked like they were painted by Picasso. Sal and I took the King sized mattress and placed it up against the windows to make the room dark. We placed blankets on the ground and made sure we were facing the door, just in case if an intruder decided to play find the rag dolls. I never understood why the Russians and the Syrians called us rag dolls. Sal said it was because they thought they could control us and that we were just play things. I thought it was nonsense.
Sal looked over to me and asked me, "Chris, how old are you?" Me and Sal had met a few hours ago and saved each others lives a few times, so we didn't know each other too well. "I'm 17 years old, sir." He laughed and placed a cigar into his mouth. "First of all don't call me sir, ever. And second, boy you ain't supposed to be putting your life on the line just yet. You still have one year left to live, mate. I say go live outside of the black blood zones. Go home and be with your family." I looked down to the floor and told him, "I don't have a family anymore." Sal looked to me and smiled, with the cigar in his mouth. "I'm sorry to hear that," he said. "But if there's one thing that I learned back in Australia that no matter where you are, you will always find home. But this ain't home, boy. And don't try to make it one. You'll regret that decision." I smirked and went into the next room. I needed time alone. I didn't want to tell Sal about my father.
My father was in the Navy but was switched over to the Army once the war started. He was stationed here in Washington, so I was hoping I'd see him somewhere. I hadn't seen my father in 10 years so maybe I did see his cold, bloodied face. I just didn't recognize it. But I at least wanted have one living family member, in this world. My mother died of a stroke 2 years ago and my sister, Sarah, was killed by a bomber, in our old house. I had no where else to go so I joined the Army to look for my family and fight for the girl of my dreams, Vanessa. But Vanessa is a whole other story so I'm not getting into that.
Night fell and Sal and I were stuck in the house until morning. We placed a few candles around the room and placed a few spare mines downstairs. We wiggled into our blankets and kept our 45s under our pillows.
In the middle of the night I pulled out my pistol and pointed it at the door when I heard a scream. I slowly got up and went to the window and looked out. The night was dead, but the scream kept scattering through the air. Then I heard another scream. Then I heard another and another and another. I kept looking outside feverishly but I could not see any living being screaming. The screams kept occurring. I curled up on the floor and covered my ears until they stopped. Then all of them, except one, stopped. The scream was faint but the scream was trying to say something. "C....." I placed my ear against the window and tried harder to make out what the scream was saying. "C....." Something dropped outside of the door and made a loud thud. I then looked back and saw a dark, bloodied figure outside. It looked at me with it's dark eyes. It was a blonde woman with blood streaked down her hair. I almost thought she was a brunette. She took her eyes away from me and turned to a dead body on the ground. She pointed to the body and kept whispering something. I then heard another thud and I looked behind me. She was there with her cold finger right in front of me, right on the tip of my nose. I pulled my gun out of my holster and placed it in front of her face. My hand shook so much that I almost dropped my pistol. The figure kept whispering the word I couldn't understand. "C...." "What?" I asked. She tilted her head and looked me right in the eyes. "CHRIS!"
"Chris! Chris, my boy we're under attack!" I jumped up from the bed and grabbed my M4. Sal and I ran out the door, avoiding every mine placed and jumped the fence. We ran to the building across the street and went into defensive mode. I shook my head and realized that the creepy woman was just a dream. It was all just a dream. It was all just a dream. It was all just a dream...
To be continued...
Life Sucks
My last stand is now. With only a week and half of school left, before break, I have two D's in Algebra 2 and English. My mind is on the verge of exploding into a million pieces. I've been trying to bring up my grades but no matter how hard I study my teachers just keep failing me. I was just diagnosed with ADD and I just got my pills to help me conquer my ADD. I'm hoping they work, but if they don't oh well. I'm going to have to try 20x harder then. But I'm really tired of school because of the grades, my parents, who keep hassling me to do better in school, and drama that constantly happens at school. It's been a rough semester, especially today. Today, I was in my self-defense class and a dude landed on my balls with his knee and I really messed up knee for some reason and my English teacher keeps giving me a hard time. It was not super fun, but at least I know how to put a person into a choke hold, now.
Monday, September 23, 2013
Crush!
Everybody has a crush, don't deny it. We all have that person that we wish we could have. We wish we could hold them tight to our body and kiss them slowly. Enjoy their presence and be happy. I do have a small crush on this very pretty girl that's in my band, but I don't think she likes me at all. This is all the sad part about having a crush is that your crush may not always like you back, but this happens to almost everybody. But this is the kind of relationship I would like to have with a girl. Check out the link...
Teenagers
As a teenager myself I have an idea of what the teenage brain is like and what kind of ridiculous amount of drama every teen go's through. For example, I saw a brunette girl sitting in the cafeteria crying, but she wasn't crying profusely but was more teary eyed then any thing else. But most people would think that she must've just had a boyfriend break up with her or something. As a teenager I think she could've been going through a break up, or some family problems, friend problems, school problems, early financial problems, bullying, not being accepted into a school that may not accept her or anything else. There are so many things us teenagers go through, and some how the adults don't really have a clue, even though they were teenagers once before. Or the adults do have an idea but don't really care. This is something I will ponder about for a while, but that's for a later time. But anyways, I'm just trying to say that us teens have it rough. All we want to do is enjoy our youthful years, but life will not allow it. Our parents, education boards, government, congress, religion, and our moral and ethics stop us from doing so many things. Another example is that I was sitting next to a very beautiful friend of mine today and I wanted to lean over and kiss her and ask her to run away with me to some foreign place, and start a new life, but all of those people and things I just mentioned stopped me. Do you have any idea how much I wanted to kiss this girl and just run away with her? I really wanted to do that! Like, I really wanted to do that! But I didn't and I'm now regretting it. But just imagine if I did that. Imagine if any teenager took any risk like that. I do not think there would be mass histeria or chaos across the globe, but it would be a large event of dreams coming true and doing whatever the hell you wanted to do. Imagine a 16 year old girl going to France and becoming a cook for one of the greatest restaurants and have nothing stopping her from achieving this goal. The world would be an extremely happy place. Their would be less worrying and less sadness, and this could all start at the age of maybe 16. That's the time where usually our more mature dreams form.
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