What's up, yo?

Ooooo-oo-oo-oo-oo, oo-oo-oo-oo
All I can say is that my life is pretty plain
I like watching the puddles gather rain

And all I can do is just pour some tea for two
And speak my point of view
But it’s not sane, it’s not sane

I just want someone to say to me no, oh, oh, oh
I’ll always be there when you wake, yea-ah
You know I’d like to keep my cheeks dry today
So stay with me and I’ll have it made

And I don’t understand why I sleep all day
And I start to complain that there’s no rain
And all I can do is read a book to stay awake
And it rips my life away, but it’s a great escape
Escape……escape……escape……

All I can say is that my life is pretty plain
You don’t like my point of view
You think that I’m insane
It’s not sane, It’s not sane

I just want someone to say to me no, oh, oh, oh
I’ll always be there when you wake, yea-ah
You know I’d like to keep my cheeks dry today
So stay with me and I’ll have it made

And I’ll have it made
And I’ll have it made, oh
Lord no no
You know I’m really gonna, really gonna have it made
You know I’ll have it made
Ahhh, ahhh, ahhh, ahhh

First off…

So I’m using this to post my random story ideas (NOT FULL STORIES) so family and friends can read them. And maybe I’ll post other random crap if people actually start following me. I’ll probably actually get bored and forget all about this. But yeah, for now… STORY IDEAS GO.

The Pavement (This is actually a homework assignment, but I really like how it turned out.)

When I think of something that is important enough that permeates my life I don’t think of something that may or may not give me more material wealth. But something that gives me something invaluable, a clear mind, and something that I’m passionate about. When I skateboard or longboard it’s like I’m in a different state of mind. I stop stressing over the future and other annoyances and I live only in the moment, if only for a short time. Nature, the world basically, is so much more interesting to me, I don’t simply look at a tree and call it a tree or a signpost and call it a signpost, I take everything around me in and I appreciate it more and admire it. Sometimes I wonder in my repetitive, exhausted mental state of walking to and from class why life is so great, what makes life so worth holding onto.

I consider these thoughts, and usually disregard them when I think of my friends, family, girls that I admire, but when I’m cruising down the pavement, in that certain state of mind, it brings the value of life to much greater detail and importance. It’s kind of my form of meditation. Because I can’t help feel like I’m in a tranquil state whenever I try to get a new trick down, or when I go speeding down hills, feeling the wind rush past my body. I observe the pavement and look at the mix of gray and white fly by me. I check for every bump ahead, making sure it’s safe to traverse over, and I think about how the size of one bump could be the difference between injuring myself or a minor speed bump to my destination. And I often compare this to life, how life is just a small part of many pathways, and how there is one of your own, with its own bumps and turns and then eventually an end. Some bumps

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may knock you down, needing time to recover. Or possibly just a minor disturbance, which may or may not lead you to an undesired or desired path. But then I notice a stop sign, but not just as a stop sign, but as its own entity. Its own shade of worn out red, the rust growing on the bottom edge, the small dents from perhaps an unruly drunk, those small details that people over look from day to day, going to and from work or school, trying to take care of their families and other loved ones. Which by all means people should to a certain extent, but when I contemplate these thoughts I can’t help but think more people should think about the small details around them, and realize how incredibly detailed our existence, everything, is and how it is so large but also so miniscule.

But these thoughts, or contemplations, are different from the daily struggles of college life, when worrying about homework or what chapters should I study for a test. They give me a peace of mind rather than stress.

That is why boarding is so important to me. As to why I’m so passionate about it I’m unsure. Maybe it’s the adrenaline rush, or possibly something in my past just triggers an instant interest to this hobby. But nonetheless, it clears but opens my mind at the same time. I’m no longer reflecting on things I have to think about, but want to think about.

During late night rides throughout South Portland, I often slowly roll down the street, occasionally a cigar in hand, and look to the stars. Like most people have done throughout history, I seem to be no different. With knowledge of the basics of our universe I understand the shear immense size of it all. With this knowledge I can’t help but feel sorry for how some people live their lives. People injure, steal, and kill others for the most foolish things I can think of. Money, a man made item of value; Religion, man

made beliefs; and other selfish reasons. People suffer for these reasons, and for what? For a momentary

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relief of stress from whatever ailed them? This means nothing if others get hurt in the process. If only seen from a different point of view, to view the big picture, these actions would seem childish, almost silly. To see tiny ants fighting and bickering about selfish, worthless things on this small ball of rock floating in the infinite blackness of space. But what we have around us is all we have. It’s only human nature to want to protect what we care about, because this Earth is all we have. That is why life is so valuable to us, whether we want to believe it or not.

Because as I fly down a hill on my longboard, as the adrenaline rush sinks in and I climb to greater speeds, I usually carve from one side of the road to the other; enjoying the ride down. Once I get to the bottom, and when the wind stops hitting my face and the rush starts to die down, I just stand on my board and look at everything around me. I breathe deep and I look at the different homes, think about the families that live in them, about how they all have their own hobbies such as mine, their own pleasures, their own times of pain, and their own lives. All of these people in this tiny section of a much larger world, in a much greater solar system, in an infinitely large universe, it makes me feel smaller but it also brings more value and attention to what is going on around me. It makes me want to hold everything dear around me because it’s all I have in this infinitesimal part of a much greater whole.

Limbo (Very unfinished)

I wake up. Dark clouds filled with deep glowing embers twirl above me. A howling deafening wind surrounds me, it almost sounds as if I’m in a wolfs stomach, letting out a tremendous howl after making me it’s meal. The wind carries dust which constantly attacks my eyes, I cover my face with my sleeve but it doesn’t help much. More and more dust comes, smothering me with a thick cloud. I ask myself the most sensible question one asks in this situation, “Where am I?” I don’t remember how I ended up in this desert… Hell, the last thing I do remember I was having dinner with my Mom, she was asking me how things were. I did as I always do, I mumbled the most commonly told lie, “I’m okay.” and then continued on eating my meal. God damn I wish I could just tell her how I really felt, that I’m not okay, that I feel like a ghost living in another soul’s pitiful excuse for a life, and that everything pretty much fucking sucks. She looks so concerned, and she knows I’m lying which makes me feel worse. It’s almost as if I’m in the room, right now when I think of this moment together. Our sad moments together. I feel as if I could reach out and touch her cheek.

I wake up again. I’m standing, and I see nothing but raging dust still surrounding me. Did I pass out? 

Villain

First of all, reader. I want to make absolutely clear when you read this story, that I am not a hero. I simply wished to survive, I strive off that basic instinct to survive, and whether I needed to hurt, or help people in order to do that, I did it. I am not going to tell you that what I did was for the greater good, because it certainly wasn’t. And I’m not going to tell you that I saved the world, because I certainly did not. Like most people, most of what I did was for my own selfish reasons and greedy impulses. And sometimes I was lucky, and it led to what some people might call a good outcome, depending on your perspective. But don’t call me a villain, either. If your definition of a villain is one that does bad, then we all are. Because I highly doubt you would of done much different if you were in my shoes. But I suppose what I’m trying to get at here is just because you’re different, a super power some might call it, it doesn’t make you a hero or a villain. It doesn’t instantly change your perspective of the world and makes your life goal to do good or bad. There is a gray area. There is always a gray area. Existence itself is a sea of gray. We are all only human. And humans are only animals.

I lived in Maine all my life, I’ve had this power all my life. I didn’t keep it a secret, everyone knows. When you’re a kid and you learn that you have this sort of power, you don’t make the grown up decision and keep it a secret. You want to show everybody. You want everyone to think that you’re better than them. Everyone wants to try and be the best at what they do. And I’m the best at what I do, because I’m the only one that can. My parents knew about it when I was three years old when I managed to turn one of my Lego houses into a clump of foam. I guess at the time my pillow wasn’t sufficient enough. They managed to keep it a secret, well, maybe not if you count the entire family knowing and the foolish few that would actually believe my Aunts and Uncles stories. But nonetheless they kept it a “secret” for another two years, until Kindergarten when Mrs. Kenna pissed me off about putting the play-dough away, so I turned my play-dough horse into solid steel. That’s when the news got out… if only I could remember the headlines so I could laugh at them. Reporters came, told me to demonstrate my power so I did, I thought I’d be famous, and in a way I did become famous. The video was everywhere. CNN, Youtube, Break.com, you name it. I’m sure the government wanted to do experiments, but at that point everyone in the world knew about me. If I disappeared people would of asked questions. But even now I still get official letters from “the President himself” to allow his best team of scientists to “examine” me, for the “good of mankind.” Well, when looking back at Mankind’s past, many things have been done for the “good of mankind” and not a damn thing has changed.