So...Last day before I'm gone for the summer. I really don't know if I made the right decision, but I'm staying down in Oklahoma. Granted, I will get a job and the sooner I start getting paid, the sooner I get a vehicle. However! I might not see Crista for awhile, but I'm sure we'll figure something out.

Something I wrote for a class...I guess it turned out better than I thought. Teacher really liked the original. It's the revised version, however.

Human Nature

"Feelings so divine,
But plagued by doubt,
May my heart be thine,

On the peak of emotional burn out,
A rollercoaster with no rail,
It's so hard to break out,"

To you I do unevil,
The truth of human nature;
And so in you I do entail:

There is no fragility higher than this creature,
Whose souls twist and turn so violently;
Our only necessity is nurture,

But no other being acts so aptly,
And no other thinks so "matter-of-factly."

I've noticed I've left a cliffhanger...

Well, the job interview went well, but I still got blown off. No idea why. I was supposed to meet with a second guy, but they never called me back and every time I called them they were saying they'd tried to fit me in.

Well, it was almost two months of such events that I decided "Fuck it." and gave up.

I haven't ranted in awhile. It's about time I did.

I fucking hate stupidity. And I don't mean people who are literally stupid, I mean the insolent, arrogant little bastards who find some subliminal elation behind fucking people's lives up. Stay out of our fucking business. If what we're doing doesn't pertain to you, You have NO right to step in and try to be the 'hero'. Or, in this case, 'heroine'. All because of some inconclusive, biased, presumptuous idea that people were doing things they shouldn't have been.

"Assumptions are the mother of all fuckups."

And pretty soon it leads to blood.

The Thief's Story

"It all began a long while ago,
With doctors rushing; they go to and fro,
A young mother screaming, painful labor;
Although this time she believes she'll savor,
The moment hte pale, crying face is shown,
A little one of hers she can call her own;
But what she didn't know, is that the one she bore,
Would bring her a despair that she couldn't hoard;
The doctor howled, with screams of horror,
It was me he held in hand, abhorring;
He said I was born of an alien race,
Born with a hatchet and a Juggalo face;
From then on I lived alone, wandering,
Traveling the endless lands; Squandering
All the talent I'd ever have for showing,
My anger for the rich, always growing;
As a young boy, I'd work for the carnival,
Scaring young men, old women; nothing personal;
In what the Ringmaster called, the Three ring Show,
Anywhere else? They'd never let me go;
They would call me a weirdo, call me a freak,
it's all I could do, for work every week;
Then I became a sneaky kind of man;
Twenty years old, I left the caravan,
Became a part of the soft midnight,
Breaking into houses, instilling fright
Within the rich man's greedy little soul,
Bringing happiness to the poor is my goal;
But then it turned darker, when I got caught
Stealing from a rich little man I sought;
I was forced to kill him, to cut his throat,
I wasn't going to be their scapegoat;
The law will never find me, wherever they look,
Searching for me as a wicked-type of crook,
It was not the first, it won't be the last;
I can gurantee: it will always be fast;
But what I really want to know can't come from you:
How can inner peace ever really be true?
And so ends my tale, the tale of some strife;
The tale of the knife; the tale of my life."

The Thief's Prologue:

There once was a man whom no one would know,
Whose face in his robe he could never show,
Men, women, and children alike, they'd fear,
And most would think he'd never shed a tear,
No one knew him, but he'd never let go,
Of that which would always give him his hope,
And so he decided that he'd find thought.
That which he, most devotedly, had sought,
For countless days, many months, endless years,
Something to bring him to light for his deeds,
All those he'd killed for the law of the greed;
This man that no one would know, was a thief,
A man with greed, but his conscious was chief,
For that he would steal he'd give to the poor,
He needed release from that which he swore;
A life of secrecy, of thievery,
How he would steal, a life of surgery,
He would kill the rich and take their money,
Something the poor would view as great honey;
He wanted to find his soul, inner peace.

Untitled

Trails of tears,
Soft like feather's down;
The sum of all fears,
To harsh to 'bid a frown;

believe what you will,
You have seen our shows;
Time won't stand still,
If you grant us repose;

To let our minds calm,
To solve our unrest,
To rest our hopes in your palm,
To venture your prayers to our fest';

Everlasting peace within your grasp,
Everlasting love without your rasp.

Untitled

Echoes of the past,
Bring the follies of the future.
Praying for love everlast,
Pain stinging like a suture;

In the arms of nurture,
There is nothing like empathy,
Faint howls like an overture,
Bring the wishes of apathy;

The pain brought by sympathy,
the weight of sorrow,
The hatred with anitpathy,
The fear of the 'morrow;

Too many scars to count,
Too much depression to mount.

Have you ever woken up one day, and realized that you have the one thing you've always wanted? Even though you've had it for three months and counting? Just last night I came to the recognition of such. I can't believe that I didn't figure it out sooner.

ACT Round 2:

English : 28
Math : 17
Reading : 31
Science : 23
Composite: 25

Me and You (Rough Draft)

If there ever was a sweeter love,
Let its eyes not behold someone other than my dove;
For there is nothing else in this world that I want;
An entwining of souls like a delicate font;
There is nothing like the elation I feel,
Me in your arms and you in mine, it's almost hard to believe it's real;
There is no end to the delight I feel when I'm with you;
Even when I hear your voice I think it's true,
I've met someone I really want to be with,
Someone that just may be my heart's locksmith.

Mercy

The pain is too great,
I need a clean slate.
A chip in a diamond,
A thorn on a rose,
Believe what you will,
Just grant me repose.
I regret what I've done,
Take back what I've said,
Why must I feel,
That my soul should be dead?
Is there someone?
Is there noone?
Must you destroy what left I enjoy?
You whom looks down on me...
Will you ever show mercy?

Forbidden

Intricacies of forbidden emotions,
Hidden within a shell of torment,
The key to the lock of an enigma,
Rests in the heart of the unexpected.
Only thye whom perform habitual wordings,
Can release the tormented soul from within.
To realy on them, however, could be a deathwish,
As unexpected revelations spark events of shock.
Believing within this entity for confidance,
Wishing for an appropriate interpretation,
He whom is tormented shall break the wall,
the barrier which separates truth from fantasy.