1.) One thing I wrote that I never put on the blog was a story about a greaser boy. I really liked it but I never felt comfortable enough to share it where people could read it. It's stupid. But at the same time I enjoy the concept. I bet you if I reread it, I will have so many changes I will want to make. Also I think it would be cool if I did actually turn some of my writings in to comics. BUT that's just me. One of my favorite things I have written was Sally. It was the first real thing I wrote for the class, and everyone loved it. I loved it. Another favorite was Fake. There are just certain things about these writings that resonate with me.

2.)  On a personal level of reading, I have actually went back and read some of my old Archie comics. Not for reading purposes though. I might sound like a total dork but, I like to read them to figure out all the technical points of a comic book in a more domesticated setting of the story. Reading this I sound like a
freak. But that's what I do and that's what I like to read. Panel placement, speech bubbles, fonts, and just other stupid things that has to do with comics.

3.) I loved keeping this blog. I love my lay out and (most) of my posts. I came up with the name because I am a cynical abomination. I have no idea what type of people would read my writing. I am not one to push my writing (or drawings) onto other people. I may or may not continue to use it. I know I will definitely keep everything here to look back on in the future. If I did choose to keep up the blog I would make short stories about the characters I have created in my head.

4.) I hate journaling physically. If I had to ever journal again I would rather do it digitally, but I just prefer everything digital. I have a lot of drawings in my journal because I learn better while I doodle, and it's hard for me to just focus on writing. The writings I do have in my journal though are mostly short/unfinished fiction stories that I would be to embarrassed to let anyone read. I should really get more confident. I will definitely continue journaling and when I do it will be even more short/unfinished fiction stories.

5.)  I ride my hog faster. Faster so the tears can't be seen. I don't cry. I am Wayne Mercedes. The Wayne Mercedes.

I can feel the bruise form on my cheek, letting the cool night air sooth the heat radiating off where that bastard hit me.

As I ride I begin to cry less, but the less I cry, the angrier I seem to get. That man. That horrible man. I have lived with him for 17 years. I could have left anytime, but somewhere in me, deep inside, I felt as though I owed him something. Imagine that. Me owing him  something. For all I care he can rot in shit.

My bike starts to sputter, reminding me to fill it up. I continue to drive, can't getting far enough away. I drive until I am sure she can't drive any more.

As I pull into the nearest Pops, Gas and Smokes. I take just a moment to regain my composure, slamming my angered fist on my bike. I sigh before I pull the bike into a gas pump, signaling over the service tenant.

A scrawny kid, not much younger than me slinks over, I read his name tag. Scrawled on the patch is 'Dick'.

"Don't get a dent on it." I growl, walking past the wide eyed child, he shrinks back, whimpering in fear.

I walk through the little store, I see a middle aged woman, her hair pinned out of her face, wearing a blue sundress in the dead of night. I glare, yet for some god forsaken reason, she takes this as an invitation to strike up a conversation.

"Ain't you a little young to be out at this hour?" she smiles sincerely, "I'm pretty sure your parents must be real worried."

I can't help but stiffen at her remark, ignoring the last comment. I pull out my bill clip, "Isn't he?" I gesture towards Dick, watching as he stumbles to clean my bike.

She actually thinks I am kidding. She just laughs off my question, "Just gas then?"

I huff and look at the shelf behind her, cigarettes.

"And a pack of Newports." I grunt, flipping through my money. I hand her 3 dollars and pay for the gas and cigarettes, stopping her as she starts to hand back change, "Keep it." I mutter.

Shoving the bill fold back in my pocket, I shove my way out the door. Dick sees me coming and he waddles away.

I get on my bike, looking up at the Pops, Gas and Smokes. and I drive away. Gaining speed as I go, going to fast I can feel myself begin to lose control, until everything goes black.  

6.) My little fake plant died
     Because I forgot to fake water it

7.)  In the future most of my creative writing will be for making comics and cartoons. When I write, I make my head a little quieter. I have so many ideas floating around my head that sometimes I just can't concentrate, let alone turn it off. But someday they won't be just ideas. Hopefully they will be million dollar ideas.

8.)  You did good kids, you did good.
Its just like any other day in The Problem Solvers head quarter (Roz's tree house). Everything was in the world was good. Too good. Just as they were about to close up shop for the day and go to the park, Brock comes bursting in, tears streaming down the poor boys face. Someone had stolen his bike. This was just the case Roz had been looking for. They go to the crime scene and gather clues. Will they find Brocks missing bike or will this be one not even The Problem Solvers can solve.

Main Characters
(green) Gunner ♂
(blue) Bruno 
(red) Roz 


Character Trait
Leadership- (Roz)
Voice of Reason- (Bruno)
Class Clown- (Gunner)


Setting(s)
Neighbor Hood
Roz's House
The School Yard


Problem
The Stolen Bike

*Page by Page coming soon*
 Growing up, ECHO CLAIRDAY, was always making things. If she had a pencil, she would draw. A computer, she would write. With nothing, he imagination would run wild. Her insperation for most of her stories either come from her everyday life or her brother and dog. She still lives with her supporting parents in the 3rd largest city in Missouri. 
I was probably about 6 or 7 when I learned to ride a bike. It was a pretty interesting time but I had to teach myself. One Christmas my parents had provided me with a nice new shiny bike (that was a little to big for me). I was determined to ride it and my parents were always busy, thus I took it upon myself to learn. We live on the top of a hill so I went fast. And crashed a lot. I never wanted to give up though and it only took me like a day to learn. But once I figured it out I rode that baby every where. My favorite place to ride it was to the elementary school by my house and to tropical smoothie. It probably would have been more fun if I had friends to ride with but oh well.

My favorite relative growing up was probably my cousin Paul. In my eyes he was literally the coolest person I knew. I honestly still look up to him to this day. He is like they big brother I never had. While in college he would come down and visit twice a year, but now, that he is a important scientist, he can only see me once a year in passing. After school freshman year as I waited for my mom to pick me up, I would call him and talk about life. We talked for 30 minutes a day, everyday. He is still one of my favorite person to this day.

Honestly when I was child, I imagined my teenage self being really ugly. I always had good self-esteem and loved myself but I just thought that no one would ever love me back. Not the way I loved myself anyway. But sitting here now, looking at my life, I feel pretty enough. If my little self could see me now she would probably be in awe of how pretty I am. But I have the self-doubt goggles on. Sometimes I wish I still saw myself in the pure light that I once did.
 My perfect day would involve me not being sad, or anxious, or scared. I would not wake up upset, nor would I be tired. I'd go to school, and get through the day without being stressed. I would get my homework done, turned in, and I wouldn't worry. My friends would be happy, and their days would go the same. I wouldn't be hungry, I wouldn't have to work. I could go home and see my dog. My room is clean, and my parents are in good moods. That would be my perfect day.

Teenagers can be fairly hard on their parents, They are difficult to deal with, I know that sometimes I can be pretty harsh when it comes to my parents, just as they can be harsh on me. We are not always fair to each other, sometimes I am even harder on them than they are on me. They are always there for me though, which shows the incredible power of parents. They see every bit of hurt we go through and try their best to be there for us, even when we try not to let them. It's so easy to shut them out and try and make them go away, but through and through they will try and help.

The best advice I as a teenager can give would be to respect privacy, help your teens when they are upset, don't get angry when they are sad and to help your kids sooner rather than later. Put time and effort into your kids as much as you can, put the effort to ask about their day, ask how they are, and tend to their troubles without getting angry, even when you are upset with their distress, it's best to not show it because it might make them afraid of coming to you for help and advice. Don't press them too much though, you want a balance of them coming to you and a balance of you checking on them.


No, I am NOT a good bowler. I absolutely suck at it. I don't even like bowling, so it's hard to even really learn to play. I'd rather not play. I tend to keep away as much as I can because its boring and I don't think I could get good at it, even if I tried.



Movie- The Truman Show










 Movie- Ferris Bueller's day off.



Movie- The Shawshank Redemption


  
Movie- Beetlejuice


My favorite movie is The Shawshank redemption. The plot was incredibly well thought out, and planned. The story was intriguing, sad and kept me on my toes. The amazing part about this is that it is far from the genre of romance which is my favorite. This is a great movie and I would highly recommend it. I normally don't like violence in movies, but it was used as a tool to tell the story, rather than a needless scene to extend the movie time.

I typically don't really care for horror movies, it's not that I dislike them, they just don't appeal to me as much. I didn't even really watch them before sophomore year. Horror movies aren't my cup of tea, but I willing to watch them.

I watch movies at home with my family, usually. Watching movies with family and friends makes the experience better than when I am watching them alone. Sometimes I'll go see movies on the big screen, but I think it's better to wait and watch from the comfort of my home. I watch movies probably about once every two weeks. It depends on what is going on during the week.

Watching movies is always better when in the comfort of friends or family. Movies are almost never fun without snacks and drinks. That always improves the experience. Movies are also better when you are comfortable and can lay down. The best movie experience is one with friends.

I love the company of others but I do occasionally enjoy my privacy.
I am proud, yet agreeable. I try and express my anger directly. I will do what is best for me.
I am easy going, and a go-with-the-flow sort of person. I prefer not to make plans and take things as they go. Apparently, according to this quiz, I am calm and mostly emotionally stable.
The quiz said I am practical but willing to try new things, I seek new things more often than not.

In a Biopic about me, Amy Schumer would play me. The main events that would be in the movie would be my brother being born, me getting my dog Dude, and me graduating and escaping the prison of highschool. It would have a happy ending!

Caitie is a freak of nature #FunnyFreak
This beautiful lady has made me an amazing person #BlessRomay
Rodney hates me but I wish I could art like him #HatersGonHate
Round little mouth #ZoeeAteAFakeGrape
Zoee is gone #PantyShot
Sick book #WoofWoof
This tree will remind me of Kickapoo til the day I die #TreeOfNance
Cringe Worthy #CharliInABathroomLookinLikeADork
#Rawr
We ended up just dicking the day away. So, we head back to the camp and pulling out some stuff for a campfire, even though the trailers both had kitchenettes. Tanner says that his family's property sits up against my uncle's. He wants to run home and ask his dad if he can come out camping with us. My cousin Rooster says he's going to go with him since it's going to get dark soon. One of the girls also wants to tag along.

It's about 7 o'clock, and it's starting to get pretty dark. They take flashlights and take the trail toward Tan's property. The rest of us chill. We make smores, drink and kiss on the girls.

About thirty or forty minutes later, there's the smell of ozone again. You could smell it over the smell of the fire we had started. This really nasty, coppery smell like right after you've had a nosebleed and it's stopped. It wasn't exactly like dried blood, but it was that nasty metallic, back-of-your-throat smell.

We immediately think that it's some kind of electrical malfunction, or someone left a hotplate on or some shit. We search the trailers and nothing is on, and we can all smell it. All of a sudden, we can hear people booking down the path toward us, and Rooster, Tan and the girl all come running into the clearing, out of breath. And they don't even break stride; they all run into the trailer, right by where the fire is.

We all get the fuck outta there and into the trailers. They end up calming down; even Rooster is crying his fucking eyes out at this point. All the while, the fire is guttering lower and lower, so my other cousins say fuck it and are about to go outside to get the generator out of a shed between the trailers.

Tanner goes, "Fuck no! Lock the front door, ain't nobody else going outside!" He's been crying too, and his eyes are bloodshot and puffy and his pants are dirty as shit.

He goes on to tell us that they went up to his house. His father said sure, he could go out camping, but to make sure they were careful on the way back, and that maybe they should take one of the hunting rifles just in case.

Evidently, Tanner had seen something in their yard a few days before. One of their pigs had come up, ripped up and half eaten. They assumed it was just some big cats or coyotes, even though they don't usually fuck with live animals.

He had gone upstairs and packed his stuff, and told his dad they would be OK without the rifle because coyotes avoid people. So they started walking back toward where we were camping.

So, Rooster finally stops crying and shaking; the girl already had, but she was just staring out the window with a dumb look on her face. He says they had gotten halfway into the woods toward the camp when they started to hear shit in the forest. It was almost pitch black by this time, so they weren't sure at first what the fuck it was. The girl says that she heard something in the bushes right off the trail and they all beamed their flashlights over there and there was someone standing back in the woods in a little hollow. Rooster said they shouted at him and told him that he was scaring the fuck out of them and what a dick he was.

He says that's when he realized that the guy was facing away from them. So they keep walking, and they start smelling the nasty coppery ozone smell. They say that they look off into the forest on the opposite side, and it's a dude standing in the forest, backward slightly closer to the path.

So now they start powerwalking and Tan keeps going, "I should have taken the fucking rifle."

As they're telling the story, the smell is still super strong even inside the cabin.

They say that after they started walking faster, a kind of low gibbering had started coming from both sides of the wood. And as they started booking it back to the trailer, the girl said she had flashed her flashlight out into the woods to the side of them and had seen something jerking itself through the woods. The gibbering just got louder and louder, and when they could see the light from our camp fire, something had come out of the woods about 40 yards behind them onto the track, and they had just flat out ran as hard as they could to the trailer.

So we're out in the fucking woods, and we're assuming at this point it's some rednecks or some shit trying to fuck with us.

All of a sudden, my other cousin, Junior, starts going on about how he went to school with a native kid that was telling him about the 'Goatman' or some shit. We promptly tell him to shut the fuck up because we don't need any spooky talk right now.

But he just keeps going on and on about how it's the fucking 'Goatman,' and how we're in his woods and blah, blah, blah. Now at the time, I had never heard of this goat man or any of that, but then a couple years ago -- the year before I graduated from college -- I had a Menom for a roommate and I ended up asking him about it. And to sum it up, it's basically a fucking man with the head of a goat and he can shape shift and he gets among groups of people to terrorize them. It's also supposed to be kind of like the Wendigo, and it's bad mojo to even talk about it and even worse if you see it.

Keep in mind, I didn't know this back when I was sixteen. So my cousin is going, "The goat man's going to get in and fucking get us." The girls are all terrified and my cousins and I are all fucking trying to figure out if it's just some hillbillies or if it's some animal.

So all of a sudden the smell just goes away. Like to this day, I haven't even experienced anything like it. Like, usually smells fade away or lessen. It just literally was there one second and then not the second.

So it's after an hour, making it around 9 or 10. We've stopped shitting bricks enough to go back outside and stoke the fire again. We figure it was just some assholes trying to fuck with us, so we don't go back home, because we think if we do, they'll chase us through the woods or some crazy shit.

Nothing else weird happens that night. And we stay another night, and for the main part of the night nothing happens. At about 1 in the morning, we're outside getting drunk and telling ghost stories. As someone is finishing some 2spooky story -- I don't remember what about -- the smell comes back. It's so fucking strong, that one of the girls literally starts vomiting.

I stand up, and you can actually feel how clammy the air is. I say we should get inside and this isn't right; we should have just fucking left.

We all go back inside, and we're standing around. My cousin just keeps going on about how it's the goat man. And my cousin Rooster tries to shut him the fuck up, and all the while I'm just feeling that something is wrong, and I can't figure out what the fuck it is.

We end up sitting in there for a while; the smell is just as strong, and we're terrified and all huddled in this camper. We end up cooking brats for everybody because nobody wants to go outside. It's one of those packs with four brats. We have a total of 3 packs. I grill them up on the stove and give everybody a hot dog. I get mine. After a while, one of my cousins gets up and goes over to the pot to get another one.

He starts grumbling about about how I get two brats and everybody else only got one, and I look at him like he's fucking stupid. I tell him that everybody only got one because there were only 12 brats, if he wants more he should open up a new pack and cook some more.

That's when the girl that had been out with Rooster and Tan just starts screaming, "OH JESUS, OH LORD, GET IT OUT!" She's crying and shivering, and then it dawns on the cousin standing up what the fuck is wrong. Me and him both glance around the room, and then I feel my heart fucking sink. I run the fuck out of the cabin and the girl runs out with us. The trailer door is banging against the side of the trailer as everybody books out of the cabin.

One of my cousin's friends ask us what the fuck was wrong. I start counting us. There's only 11 now.

"I shit you not," my cousin verified. There had been twelve people in the cabin. But being that everybody didn't really know each other well, nobody had really noticed the whole fucking time that there was an extra person. And then I realized earlier that I had kind of noticed something was off. You know how when you're just dicking around having a good time that you don't sweat the smallest shit, and you don't always keep track of certain stuff? I'm dead sure that someone else had been in the trailer with us, and that they had been there for at least a fucking day, eating with us. What makes it worse is, I could figure out which one because I don't think anyone ever actually interacted with the other person/the Goat-man.

The girl kept praying to Jesus and we're all sitting outside; eventually we get big-ass sticks and go back in the cabin, but there's nobody in there. We count again, and there's 11 people. We go back into the trailer and lock the door. We explain what the fuck happened, and the girl says that she realized too, and that when he was about to say something, the person sitting next to her had grabbed her leg hard and leaned over toward her and said something she couldn't understand.

So we are pretty much scared as fuck as we huddle together, and I fall asleep. When I wake up, the sun is just coming up, and half the people are asleep and the other half are packing our shit up.

We all want to walk back home, but like four people want to stay until the sun is all the way up. And some people think that we're just fucking around and still want to stay at the trailers. I just want to get the fuck out of the woods.

The girl's name was Keira, the one that the Goat-man had touched. Anyway, I asked her if she really thinks it was something bad, and she says she just wants to go home and she doesn't want to be out in the woods alone for another night.

So we decide to split up; the four that want to go can go, but I have to stay because I have the keys to the cabin and it's my uncle's and I have to lock up. I'm super pissed at this point, because I feel like people aren't taking this shit seriously, and I definitely didn't want to be out in the woods for another night. I spend the rest of the day trying to convince the rest of the people -- now 4 girls and four guys -- to get the fuck out of dodge. Tanner leaves with them to go get a rifle and says he's going to be back. So there are just 7 of us left by 4 PM.

At around 5 PM he hasn't made it back yet, and we're getting extremely fucking antsy, and the only reason I stopped begging them to go back was because he went to get a gun.

it's about 5:30 PM or so, when the one cousin that did stay says that the girl Keira is outside. We all look outside, and sure enough, she's standing by the firepit with her back to the cabin.

I'm thinking to myself, if she was so fucking scared, why the hell would she come back? And then I get this nasty feeling in my gut. Keep in mind, the whole time the coppery smell has been gone. Now I realize I can smell just a twinge of it.

I say this to the rest of them and everybody -- and these are the people that wanted to stay in the fucking woods after we had the goddamn Goatman in our midst -- is laughing at me and asking if I set this up to scare them.

I'm looking at them like, "I'm not fucking bullshitting you at all right now." I ask them why the fuck would I play like that? So one of the girls goes outside to get Kiera. She gets halfway to her and stops cold. Keira starts heaving; I don't know how the fuck to describe it. Sort of like if someone with their back turned was laughing without actually making any sound. It was this fact that made me realize there was not a fucking sound in the whole woods; it was dead silent.

This was like later in September, so it was still fairly hot at the time, but it was super chilly some days too. And you could usually hear big-ass geese honking or some kind of birds or squirrels chitchatting.

So I step out the door and tell her to come back in the fucking trailer right goddamn now.

She backs up into the trailer and we lock the fucking door. We pull down all the shades except one, and put a guy there in a chair to watch her. She stands there for another 20 minutes or so. The guy turns to say that she's still there. And there's a HUGE fucking bang on the door.

We all jump the fuck up and scramble around the living room of the trailer. The banging is super fucking loud.

So now my cousin is holding one of the girls and the other two are kinda giggling with nervous laughter and me and the other two guys are shitting brix.

Then we hear Tan. He's screaming.

"LET ME THE FUCK IN, STOP FUCKING PLAYING!"

So we go over to the door and open it, and he stumbles in with a rifle. There's nobody else outside.

Evidently, he had walked up to the campsite. Nothing weird happened in the forest, but he had seen a girl. Mind you, he said it was not Keira standing there. When he had gotten to the edge of the clearing, she had turned toward him with the slackjawed look and just stared him down, slowly tracking him as he walked around the outside of the clearing towards the camp. He said it wasn't till he was almost halfway to the trailer he had realized that she was getting closer to him. She had started off by the fire, and without him even seeing her move she had been turning, inching closer. He said he just ran the rest of the way back to the cabin thinking it would open. And when he got to the door and it was locked, he turned and it was about half the distance to the door.

He looks around the room and then gets super pale. He pulls me to the side and whispers in my ear, "You know there are only seven of us in here, right?" I get that feeling where you stomach drops to your nuts. It had been back inside the trailer while we were sorting out who was going where, and then when we all went outside to talk earlier in the day. It has just slipped right back in.

We looked out the window and there is nobody out there. So we recount everyone and then basically, I go over and ask everyone how many people were here earlier. And everybody says 8. I say, "Well, how many are here now?" They all do the count and then realize there are only now seven people in the cabin.

So Tan had brought back a couple boxes of ammo and his rifle. And he had told his dad that there was some kind of animal in the forest because he didn't think his dad would believe him if he said it was Goatman. He says that his cousin is supposed to be coming down in a few hours and that in the morning we can all go back to his place and his cousin will drive us home.

Now I'm really fucking terrified, but I at least feel better because we can be American and shoot the fuck out of whatever it is if it comes back. But then my cousin gets into this huge argument with one of the girls because she thinks that I'm trying to be funny and prank them, and that she's getting really scared and that I'm not funny. He keeps telling her I'm not that kind of person, and she says, "Well, how do we know the girl wasn't just Tanner in a wig? Or if it's really the Goatman, how do we know that this is the real Tanner and that Goatman just didn't kill Tanner in the woods and take his gun?"

So we fucking get into a huge argument about this, where me and Tan are like, "we could seriously be in danger because at the very least someone has been sneaking themselves into our fucking trailer without us knowing and mingling with us, and at worst, something bad is in the forest fucking with us."

One of the girls is crying and saying she wants to go right now, and we're trying to tell her we shouldn't because none of us are walking through the woods in the middle of the night. At this point the sun is starting to go down and it's getting a little cloudy out.

We eat something and turn on the radio for a while, but we can't really get a station out there with anything decent. So we turn it off at about the time that Tan's cousin shows up. He was like 19, I think. At this point, the sun is just barely over the horizon and he has one of those heavy duty lantern flashlights and another rifle. He walks up to the trailer and we whisper to Tan asking if he's sure that's his cousin and he says yes.

The guy looks behind him and all around the camp, then walks in. He kind of glances at all of us and looks a little confused.

He says, "Where's your other little buddy at? I figured she would meet me up at the cabin. Is she a little slow or something?" He also asked whether we had been cooking blood in the cabin, because it smelled like blood and hot pans all the way up the trail. We are all like fucking "NOPE." But we ask him what the fuck he's talking about with the girl he saw.

He had come down the same trail Tan had been using and he had come up on "one of youse guy's buddies" standing in the middle of the trail, looking at him slack jawed. He had asked her a bunch of questions, but all she did was just look at him. Then, she smiled at him and he said he kept walking. She couldn't seem to keep up with him and kept lagging a little behind him. He said he asked her if she was hurt or something, and if she needed any help. But, she had continued to stare. Eventually, he had been walking and turned around a bend in the trail. But when he turned around and went back to see if she was okay, the trail was empty. He'd assumed she had taken some short cut through the woods to our trailer.

We tell him the whole story of what's been going on. I half expected him to say we were full of shit, but he just listened and then sat down on the couches in the living room.

Tanner's cousin gets back to the girl. He says, when she had kept trying to lag behind him, it had kinda weirded him the fuck out, so he tried to keep her in front of him, but no matter how slow he walked, she was always lagging a little behind. And that he smelled this nasty smell, and it got stronger as he got to the camp. Eventually it got really strong. She had said something really low that he didn't catch, and when he had turned around she had been right the fuck up on him, and he stepped back from her.

It was at this point he asked her if she was okay, and if she wasn't, him to carry her back the rest of the way, and she just kept staring. He said he reached out for her, as in to grab her on the shoulder, but he must have "misjudged the distance" because she was off to the side of where he had put his hand, like she had moved while he was looking dead at her.

So at this point, we know this shit's real, unless Tan is playing a joke, which we can tell he's not because he's almost pissing his pants.

So they load up their rifles, we eat some more, and we just kind of sit around until about 11. To this fucking day, every time I think about this, I really pray to God that it's some huge prank that my cousins played on me and just never revealed so I would shit for the rest of my life.

At 'round 11, the stink of copper turns into an actual nasty gross blood-like smell, like cooking blood and singed hair. Tan and his cousin, Reese, get the fuck up instantly and grab the rifles.

There's like a half-knocking, half-clawing at the door, and I shit you not, there's this voice, and it sounds like when you see those YouTube cats and dogs whose owners teach them how to "talk." It says in this halting, weirdly toned voice, "Let me the fuck in, stop fucking playing."

It made my fucking nuts creep up against my body, and one of the girls just starts crying and calling on Jesus.

It was so fucking obviously not a person talking. It didn't have the right cadence, and that's some shit that I never realized until that moment, but all people have a certain cadence when they talk, no matter what language. All people have a certain kind of rhythm to talking.

This shit didn't have any kind of cadence or rhythm. One of those YouTube cats, that's what the fuck it sounded like outside the door. So now I'm in full on terror mode. We keep yelling outside, "Who is it? Stop fucking around, man!" and it just keeps saying, "in" or "Let me the fuck in" for almost 15 minutes.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qff9V27Weaw

It sounded like this almost, just not funny. Sorry for being on a tangent, but if you can't imagine how this shit sounded, then you can't imagine how fucked up the whole situation was.

So then the smell goes away for a while. And for the next hour or so, you can hear someone basically creeping around in the woods and shit. Every couple minutes it'll come back into the door, and say something.

Finally when the smell fades away, it's around 2 in the morning right now. Reese says, "Man, fuck this!" and opens the door and walks outside with his rifle.

He fires a shot into the air, and says something to the effect of, "In the name of Jesus Christ, go away!" He fires two more times, and then from the woods right up against the river across from the trailer, it sounds like something is slowly jibbering and hooting.

Then it starts screaming and it sounds almost like a woman and a cat in a bag screaming together. Like I seriously have never heard any shit like that, and you can hear the brush over that way start to shake, Reese fires over into the treeline and then starts backing into the house.

We lock the door, and we can hear this shit keening and screaming. Reese says something had come out of the bushes, super low to the ground and crawling toward the cabin. He had shot at it.

Pretty much, that was how the rest of the night went; it was literally screaming constantly for the next two hours, and we could hear shit moving out into the treeline. But it never came back up to the cabin until everyone had finally fallen asleep.

Tan had been sitting in the chair watching the door with his rifle; nobody else heard or saw this, and he told me two days later, after the whole thing was over.

He said he had been nodding off after the screaming and noises finally stopped, and he had been almost asleep when he saw someone come out of the bathroom and then lay down in the middle of the floor and go to sleep. He just assumed it was one of us and he had nodded off.

Then he said he kind of realized something was wrong, and while pretending to be sleeping, he counted us. There were 9 people in the cabin. He basically didn't want to try to shoot at the fucking thing in the cabin and have it kill us all then and there, or have Reese wake up and start shooting and then we kill ourselves. So he just stayed awake all night, pretending to be asleep.

He said sometimes, it would stand up and kind of do this weird jittery thing, or heave like it was laughing. But then it would lay back down.

The story closes pretty weak, because from my perspective nothing happened. We woke up. And I noticed that Tan was a little jittery, and that he was avoiding looking at all of us. But we ate some breakfast, packed up and started walking to his house. He stayed last in the cabin and said he'd lock up and bring me my uncle's keys; to just start walking and he'd catch up. Which I didn't really want to fucking do.

We got a little bit up the path, and when he came running up, basically we just jogged back to his house. His cousin took us home.

There was a window in the bathroom. Tan had gone back to lock up and looked in there. We were too stupid to lock a screenless window. The window was fucking up when he went in there.

I'm guessing it had been doing that all along, waiting for us to fall asleep or slip up and then getting in among us. It walked with us all the Goddamn way back to his house, and then he said it lagged to the back of the group and looked him dead in the eyes before walking into the woods.

Ground Control to Lost Soul
This is Ground Control to Lost Soul
You've really made the grade
Though I'm past one hundred thousand miles
I'm feeling very still
And I think my spaceship knows which way to go

Earth below us
Drifting falling
Floating weightless
Calling calling home

Across the stratosphere
Ground Control to Lost Soul
Your circuit's dead, there's something wrong

Back at ground control, there is a problem
Go to rockets full, not responding

"Hello Lost Soul, are you receiving"
Turn the thrusters on, we're standing by
There's no reply

Tell my wife "I love her very much"
Then nothing more

Far above the moon
Planet Earth is blue
And there's nothing I can do

Rose (Left) and Lotta (Right)
Ms. Lotta Garfinkle was beloved in our small town of Couch, Missouri. A small town like ares wasn't much for education. Sure we went to the school house but it was basically just a under paid babysitting job. That is until, Ms. Lotta came to town. She walked into town, a smile plastered on her face and a hope for change to make a difference. Even if it was just a small one. Ms. Lotta was beautiful, loud, and didn't reserve her feelings. She was unlike any woman we had seen before.

She took over the teaching in the school house shortly after she came. It only took a weekend to fix it up. She used the help of the big stupid boys who would work for a pretty girls kiss. Even if it was just on the cheek.

No one knew what to expect on the following Monday. The first day of school with Ms. Lotta was amazing. Ms. Lotta spent the whole entire day just getting to know us. No work or anything. She even got Spencer Williams to stand still. And no one got Spencer Williams to do anything.

She taught us things that none of us ever thought we would learn. We made science models, we made art, we made an a amazing little family. We loved Ms. Lotta, we had always felt something was missing and it was her. Ms. Lotta believed in us, like no body had before. We were important and we new it, all because of her.

So thank you Ms. Lotta. Thank you for believing in us. Thank you for believing in me.
Tobias Green was the man who ran the old gas station on the back road to nowhere. Only few people knew of Tobias's little gas station. But, those who did, always made sure to stop and see him on their journey. You could see the light glisten in his eyes as he listened to your stories. He would invite you in and give you a free candy bar for a little of your time. Despite being alone in the gas filled air, he was happy. This was the simple life he had always wanted to live. Whenever I went to see him, my friends would sigh annoyed with me. No matter what or where we went, I would always stop in to see ol' Tobias. I begged him to come with us every time we saw each other, but he would say the same thing every time, "My adventure is here. Yours is out there. Go and adventure with the both of us.". I hold those words dearly to me, making sure to follow his advice and every time I went out into the world, I did just that. Tobias Green was the most amazing man I would ever meet in my life. And I hope to see him again. I just know he will be waiting for me at the pearly gates, waiting to hear the rest of my stories, proud of how I lived the rest of my life.
I see
an old red
wooden deck
a paper tree
peaking behind it

On the left
my house
comes out
moving into sight

Today I see
all the squeaky
doggy toys
thrown about
the deck

Sometimes
there are animals
teasing my pup
from the outside

As I look
the bright moonlight
shines on me
the orange leaves
beginning to fall
as all the green
fades away
I wanted to make a fable don't judge me.
Samson and Mortimer were identical twins. They were so identical that even their mother found it difficult to distinguish one from the other, at least during their initial days on earth.

On the contrary, they were very different from each other when it came to everything other than their appearance. Samson had no friends, while Mortimer was a great friendship maker. Samson loved sweets, but Mortimer loved spicy food and detested sweets. While Samson was generous and selfless, Mortimer was greedy and selfish.

As Samson and Mortimer grew, their father wanted to share his fortune equally among them. However, Mortimer detested this and he argued that whoever proved to be more intelligent and strong would have to get a larger portion of their fathers wealth.

Samson went along with his brother, wanting to cause no trouble. Their father decided to organize a competition between the two. He asked the two sons to walk as long as they could, and return home before sunset. The wealth would be divided in proportion to the distance covered. As a rule of the competition, they were not permitted to carry a watch to keep track of the time.

The following day, Samson and Mortimer set out to walk. It was a rather sunny day. Samson walked slowly and steadily, while Mortimer broke into a sprint as he was bent on winning the race and also winning a greater portion of his father’s wealth.

Samson knew that it would be ideal to walk as far as possible till noon and start for home at noon as it would take the same amount of time to walk back home. Knowing this, Samson decided to turn back for home at noon so as reach home on time.

However, Mortimer, with his greed to earn more wealth, did not attempt to return home even after mid-noon. He walked twice as long as Samson, and thought he would still be able to return home before sunset. He hurried back when he saw the sun turn orange. Unfortunately, he could not even make it half way home as the sun started to set. Slowly darkness engulfed his path and he had to drag his tired feet back home.

He had lost the race. Only because of his greed.

------------
The kind hearted one
Or the greed filled black soul
Only one will rise
Interior II
My home doesn't exist to you
It is on another plane of existence
Not for you, just for me
I come home to escape your world
The chair, the rug, the dust is placed strategically
When you find yourself in my home
You see an empty room with that unfamiliar smell
I see a vibrant safety net, ready for me with open arms
I am ready to come home
Home sweet home

Swingeing London 67 
The time of out lives is here
The time to be young
The time to be wild
The time to be free
The time to ignore the laws
The time to be who you truly are
The time to make your head spin
The time to show the man who's the boss
The time is now
Richard William Hamilton
The great pop artist was born a young baby on the day of Feb. 24th, 1922. It wouldn't be until many years later that he would become an artist. Even more years would go by until he would eventually die on Sep. 13th, 2011. As we try to look back on his child hood, not much can be found. He obviously had a mother and father, or else he would have never been born, but who his parents were, no one knows. As he grew into himself, he want to Central Saint Martins, Slade School of Fine Art and also Royal Academy of Arts. He fell in love twice in his long life time. His first wife being Terry O'Rilley (m. 1947-1962) and then his second spouse until he died was Rita Donagh (m. 1991-2011).

Study for a Fashion plate
Some major historical events happened, like the Korean war started, Rock and Roll really took off, racial segregation ruled unconstitutional, color tv introduced, and the Vietnam War began. All this conflict around him would make you think that Richard Hamilton would have some sort of challenge. Especially because of his vulgar ground breaking work. Nope. He already broke all the rules in art so he had nothing to hold him back. He made art that he wanted and that is all there is to that. One quirky thing is that he was known as "Daddy Pop".

Daddy Pop's mediums consisted of collages, painting and graphics, normally all in one piece. His art happened during the Pop Art movement and took a major part in its development. Some of his most famous pieces was Just what is it that makes homes so different, so appealing?, Study for a Fashion plate, and Interior II. Personally I really like The Critic Laughs. Its dentures that giggle and shake. It is very neat to see in action. My other favorite by him Study for a Fashion plate (which can be seen above)

Just what is it that makes homes so different, so appealing?

  • "If I am out of my mind, it's alright with me, thought Moses Herzog."
  • Saul Bellow
  • Born: June 10, 1915, Lachine, Canada
  • Died: April 5, 2005, Brookline, MA
  • Saul Bellow was a Canadian-American writer. For his literary work, Bellow was awarded the Pulitzer Prize, the Nobel Prize for Literature, and the National Medal of Arts. He is the only writer to win the National Book Award for Fiction three times and he received the National Book Foundation's lifetime Medal for Distinguished Contribution to American Letters in 1990. (Nothing specific was found for him in 1964)
  • Herzog is set in 1964 in the United States, and is about the midlife crisis of a Jewish man named Moses E. Herzog. At the age of forty-seven, he is just emerging from his second divorce, this one particularly acrimonious. He has two children, one by each wife, who are growing up without him. His career as a writer and an academic has floundered. He is in a relationship with a vibrant woman, Ramona, but finds himself running away from commitment.
  • Personally, as an uncultured reader, this just seems boring to me. I would much rather read a romance. I just feel as though there is no room for me to relate. He is a middle-aged Jewish  man down on his luck. I am a plucky 17 year old who is scared of the life ahead of her. This just doesn't seem like my cup of tea.

  • "After a while i went out and left the hospital and walked back to the hotel in the rain."
  • Ernest Hemingway
  • Born: July 21, 1899, Oak Park, IL
  • Died: July 2, 1961, Ketchum, ID
  • Ernest Hemingway  was an American novelist, short story writer, and journalist. His economical and understated style had a strong influence on 20th-century fiction, while his life of adventure and his public image influenced later generations. Hemingway produced most of his work between the mid-1920s and the mid-1950s, and won the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1954. He published seven novels, six short story collections, and two non-fiction works. Many of his works are considered classics of American literature.
  • A Farewell to Arms is a novel by Ernest Hemingway set during the Italian campaign of World War I. The book, published in 1929, is a first-person account of American Frederic Henry, serving as a Lieutenant in the ambulance corps of the Italian Army. The title is taken from a poem by 16th-century English dramatist George Peele.
  • This book sounds like the most boring thing I might ever have to read. Reading about the army does not appeal to me, especially a first person account of the army. I respect soldiers, and I appreciate what they do, but this genre doesn't appeal to me. Sorry, Ernest. 



If I am out of my mind, it's alright with me. 

I don't know if things are okay, I think they might be, but with me who knows? I know that people are judging me for being here, I don't mind though. If I were on the outside looking in, I'd judge me too. I won't be here much longer, I have a plan. It had raining for a week, it always seems much drearier when it rains. A hospital can only get so much more depressing. The rain stopped during the day, but the clouds were rolling back around. The nurses keep a close eye on me, I think they know that I have a plan, but no matter what happens, I will get out. I have been here for far too god damn long, I am even more tired than I was before I came up. There was no help, nothing they could do would ever put me in my right mind again. I doubt they really care, everything's a job to them. You'd think that they'd be doing a better job, but who knows, maybe they don't get paid enough to wipe our asses and dry our tears. It's all behind me though, or at least it will be. I can't sit still anymore, I can't stand it. I can't stand the smell anymore, I can’t stand the people. I can barely stand myself, but at least if I left I would be able to do what I want, go where I want and try and be what I want. I don’t want to have to explain myself and how I got out, I’m tired of explaining my actions to people who aren’t really listening. I know eventually I’ll be found, and that eventually I’ll be back here, I could never be on my own for too long, it never ended well. Leaving was surprisingly easy, I didn’t expect to get out- or back in- so easily. In all my excitement to escape, I had forgotten the one thing that matter to me, a stuffed bear I had won for myself at some stupid carnival I went to as a child. I luckily did not realize too late, and hadn’t gotten too far. Well, actually, I had gotten pretty damn far. I got all the way to my damn hotel, and had to get a taxi back, just to sneak in and out again. I cursed myself for holding onto such a stupid item. After a little hard work, I was able to snuggle the bear against my body, clinging to it for warmth and comfort. I mingled with a few of the other patients, trying to time it right. My escape had to be perfect, considering that ten minutes ago, I was out and had to march my happy ass right back in. I took a deep breath, and walked to the front door, thunder clapping for me as I did. The clouds opened up, rain beating hard against the windows.
After a while i went out and left the hospital and walked back to the hotel in the rain.
Honestly, I hate all art classes.