My life started as a picture I drew
Turned into a song I played
Then into a play I performed
And now into a poem I wrote
The picture I drew is a lighthearted one
Comedic, cartoonish, creative
It was a portrait of a boy who had no worries
and often drew pictures
The song I played is about an older boy
Whose mother had died
And he wrote a song to help him cope
In a place where he now had to watch over himself
The play I performed was about a young man
Who was warming up to society
In the end he learns to overcome adversity
But still doesn't believe much in people
Except the ones he portrays on stage
And the poem I wrote is about a young adult
Who writes a poem about pictures and plays
To tell his story
I remember...
I remember when 10-year-olds didn't all have cell phones, if we wanted to talk to eachother we would just talk to eachother.
I remember when we listened to CDs. I remember my dad telling me he listened to cassettes, and my grandmothers record player. My great grandfather remembers when people used to play instruments.
I remember when the west nile became a pandemic. It used to be a river.
I remember when I didn't understand politics. It seems the more I understand about politics, the less I understand about everything else.
I remember when childrens television wasn't this deluted blender of weak dialogue and overdone life-lessons, turning brains to cole-slaw. I remember when children used to watch childrens television.
I remember when we didn't play with matches.
I remember when my peers hadn't forgotten that their parents work hard to provide them with shelter, food and means of living. I remember when it became cool to forget, and society became a war where the winner was the person who had the worst parents.
I remember when "cool" meant you had a boy-scout pocket knife. This was before "cool" meant you had been stabbed with a boy-scout pocket knife.
I remember when sex was a bad word.
I remember when being smart was a compliment, and being dirt-stupid wasn't trendy.
I remember when we used to go to the internet for information; now we go to the internet to be misinformed.
I remember playing cops and robbers. I remember losing cops and robbers. I'm glad I havn't lost cops and robbers again since I've grown, but we see more people losing it every day; it isn't so forgiving anymore.
I remember when everyone wanted to be a "space-man" when they grew up. I remember when we grew up and realized we couldn't be space-men.
I remember when I used to dwell on the past.
I remember when we listened to CDs. I remember my dad telling me he listened to cassettes, and my grandmothers record player. My great grandfather remembers when people used to play instruments.
I remember when the west nile became a pandemic. It used to be a river.
I remember when I didn't understand politics. It seems the more I understand about politics, the less I understand about everything else.
I remember when childrens television wasn't this deluted blender of weak dialogue and overdone life-lessons, turning brains to cole-slaw. I remember when children used to watch childrens television.
I remember when we didn't play with matches.
I remember when my peers hadn't forgotten that their parents work hard to provide them with shelter, food and means of living. I remember when it became cool to forget, and society became a war where the winner was the person who had the worst parents.
I remember when "cool" meant you had a boy-scout pocket knife. This was before "cool" meant you had been stabbed with a boy-scout pocket knife.
I remember when sex was a bad word.
I remember when being smart was a compliment, and being dirt-stupid wasn't trendy.
I remember when we used to go to the internet for information; now we go to the internet to be misinformed.
I remember playing cops and robbers. I remember losing cops and robbers. I'm glad I havn't lost cops and robbers again since I've grown, but we see more people losing it every day; it isn't so forgiving anymore.
I remember when everyone wanted to be a "space-man" when they grew up. I remember when we grew up and realized we couldn't be space-men.
I remember when I used to dwell on the past.
A Day in the Mirror (Prompt #6)
The mirror was her conviction of silent judgment. She had golden-blond hair and bright blue eyes; she was beautiful. But in the mirror she was as ugly as sin.
When she stared at herself in the mirror she had been deemed narcissist, but in reality the mirror filled her with distaste for herself as opposed to self-obsession. It was a necessary evil, the mirror was the only thing that kept her tongue in her mouth.
When she saw herself, she could only compare herself to everyone else.
When she stared at herself in the mirror she had been deemed narcissist, but in reality the mirror filled her with distaste for herself as opposed to self-obsession. It was a necessary evil, the mirror was the only thing that kept her tongue in her mouth.
When she saw herself, she could only compare herself to everyone else.
Coffee Shop scene
1- It’s cold outside.
2- …But the birds are still here.
1- Correct. So you’re the man who requested the murder.
2- Y-yes.
1- I like you. Usually my clients either back out at the last minute or forget the password.
2- How hard can it be to remember “But the birds are still here”?
1- You have a point. Maybe some people back out at the VERY last minute. So… tell me about the victim.
2- His name is Preston Cushrinada.
1- I see. Brother? Coworker? Ex-lover?
2- He was a coworker.
1- Why do you want him dead?
2- He took me job, he took my girlfriend… he stole my identity.
1- And you want him to die because--
2- I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking I want him dead because I want my life back.
1- I wasn’t, but I am now.
2- I-I want him dead because I despise him! I’ve lost many hours of sleep because of him, if there’s anything I want back I guess those hours would suffice more than anything!
1- So Preston Cushrinada made you an insomniac, and you want him to die so you can sleep peacefully again.
2- Yes. He’s plagued my thoughts hourly. I will not rest until I have my vengeance.
1- You talk big.
2- You talk small.
1- Touché. I’ll tell ya what. Come up with a better excuse and maybe we’ve got ourselves a deal. *Get’s up to leave*
2- … Wait!
1- *stops* yes?
2- What if I told you he was a national threat?
1- I would think you were full of—
2- I’m serious. I can explain if you’ll just sit down and listen to me.
1- … Fine, I’ve got another minute. *Sits down*
2- Good. Preston Cushrinada is the leader of an underground anti-federalist anarchist organization called “The Pack”
1- How do you know this?
2- … B-because it was my organization. He stole it from me.
1- So you were serious when you said he took your identity.
2- Yes.
1- And this man could kill the president.
2- If he wanted to.
1- Funny… you don’t look like a member of an underground anarchist network. You look like an underpaid office intern.
2- *glare* oh, you’re hilarious.
1- Heh. Okay, we got ourselves a deal. I expect the money by tomorrow.
2- You’ll get it. Trust me.
2- …But the birds are still here.
1- Correct. So you’re the man who requested the murder.
2- Y-yes.
1- I like you. Usually my clients either back out at the last minute or forget the password.
2- How hard can it be to remember “But the birds are still here”?
1- You have a point. Maybe some people back out at the VERY last minute. So… tell me about the victim.
2- His name is Preston Cushrinada.
1- I see. Brother? Coworker? Ex-lover?
2- He was a coworker.
1- Why do you want him dead?
2- He took me job, he took my girlfriend… he stole my identity.
1- And you want him to die because--
2- I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking I want him dead because I want my life back.
1- I wasn’t, but I am now.
2- I-I want him dead because I despise him! I’ve lost many hours of sleep because of him, if there’s anything I want back I guess those hours would suffice more than anything!
1- So Preston Cushrinada made you an insomniac, and you want him to die so you can sleep peacefully again.
2- Yes. He’s plagued my thoughts hourly. I will not rest until I have my vengeance.
1- You talk big.
2- You talk small.
1- Touché. I’ll tell ya what. Come up with a better excuse and maybe we’ve got ourselves a deal. *Get’s up to leave*
2- … Wait!
1- *stops* yes?
2- What if I told you he was a national threat?
1- I would think you were full of—
2- I’m serious. I can explain if you’ll just sit down and listen to me.
1- … Fine, I’ve got another minute. *Sits down*
2- Good. Preston Cushrinada is the leader of an underground anti-federalist anarchist organization called “The Pack”
1- How do you know this?
2- … B-because it was my organization. He stole it from me.
1- So you were serious when you said he took your identity.
2- Yes.
1- And this man could kill the president.
2- If he wanted to.
1- Funny… you don’t look like a member of an underground anarchist network. You look like an underpaid office intern.
2- *glare* oh, you’re hilarious.
1- Heh. Okay, we got ourselves a deal. I expect the money by tomorrow.
2- You’ll get it. Trust me.
