Sunday, May 06, 2007

WA#10 draft 3

His name was Eli and we had been friends since first grade. We spent so much time at each others houses that we were practically brothers. Things were good, but Eli was always teased. There was just something about him that was different. Maybe it was his lisp, or it could have been the way he talked to people, but whatever the reason, people did not take kindly to him. I only really took notice of this kind of treatment in Fifth grade. Fifth grade was a bad year for me. This was the year that I became conscious of the fact that I was not in fact “cool”. This put me in an awkward position, because I couldn’t be cool while Eli was around, but he was my best friend. Slowly I tried to disassociate myself with him to see if more people would accept me. I could tell he was hurt by this but I pressed on all the same. One day I told Eli that he was not cool and therefore could not hang out with me. I was welcomed with open arms in to the other kids circle, but they slowly grew disinterested in me.
I began to tease Eli around the other kids so they would take an interest in me. One day I was so mean to him that I sent him away in tears. People loved me for this, but their attention meant nothing to me anymore. The stress of being an asshole can really get to you if you are not careful. I had decided that enough was enough.
A few days later, after not making fun of Eli for a while, I was shoved away from a group of people playing basketball, and went out to roam the field behind the school. Eli found me and came over to talk. As he walked toward me, I turned around and walked away. It hurt me to do this, but after all this time, I still worried about what people would think of me. Later I would want to shoot myself for this, but what’s done is done, no matter how bad you feel. A few years later I saw Eli out and about on a Friday night. He recognized me right off and came over to talk to me. Either he had forgotten about our fifth grade year, or he had just never hated me for what I did. We spent a few minutes catching up before he went on his way. I haven’t seen him since, but I can never forgive myself for what I did.

Tuesday, May 01, 2007

WA#10 draft 2

His name was Eli and we had been friends since first grade. We spent so much time at each others houses that we were practically brothers. Things were good but Eli was always teased. There was just something about him that was different. Maybe it was his lisp, or it could have been the way he talked to people, but whatever the reason, people did not take kindly to him.
I only really took notice of this kind of treatment in Fifth grade. Fifth grade was a bad year for me. This was the year that I became conscious of the fact that I wasn’t in fact “cool”. This put me in an awkward position, because I couldn’t be cool while Eli was around, but he was my best friend. Slowly I tried to disassociate myself with him to see if more people would accept me. I could tell he was hurt by this but I pressed on all the same.
One day I told Eli that he was un-cool and therefore could not hang out with me. I was welcomed with open arms in to the other kids circle, but they slowly grew disinterested in me. I began to tease Eli around the other kids so they would take an interest in me. Finally one day I was so mean to him that I sent him away in tears. People loved me for this, but their attention meant nothing to me anymore. The stress of being an asshole can really get to you if you are not careful. I had decided that enough was enough. A few days later, after not making fun of Eli for a while, I was shoved away from a group of people playing basketball, and went out to roam the field behind the school. Eli found me and came over to talk. As he walked toward me, I turned around and walked away. It hurt me to do this, but after all this time, I still worried about what people would think of me. Later I would want to shoot myself for this, but what’s done is done, no matter how bad you feel.
A few years later I saw Eli out and about on a Friday night. He recognized me right off and came over to talk to me. Either he had forgotten about our fifth grade year, or he had just never hated me for what I did. We spent a few minutes catching up before he went on his way. I haven’t seen him since, but I can never forgive myself for what I did.

Thursday, April 26, 2007

WA#11 draft 1

Fifth grade is a very awkward time. It was the first time I was ever self conscious about the people I hung out with. I was so concerned with my image that I would do anything to be accepted by the people I had dubbed “cool”.
I became obsessed with the notion that I was not cool, and this slowly destroyed my self image. I was a nervous wreck, and I always worried about what people thought about me. I would assume that people were judging me, or that they thought I was boring. This was the perfect setting for the most shameful year of my life. This was the year I lost my best friend. Not in the sense that he died, but that I just couldn’t face him after what I had done to him.
His name was Eli and we had been friends since first grade. We spent so much time at each others houses that we were practically brothers. However, I realized that a lot of people did not think my friend was cool.
This put me in an awkward position, because I couldn’t be cool while he was around, but he was my best friend. Slowly I tried to disassociate myself with him to see if the cool kids would accept me. I could tell he was hurt by this but I pressed on all the same. The cool kids realized what was happening and made it a game to see if they could make me ditch him and hang out with them.
One day I told Eli that he was un-cool and therefore could not hang out with me. I was welcomed with open arms in to the cool kids circle, but they slowly grew disinterested in me.
I began to tease Eli around the cool kids so they would take an interest in me. This worked for a while, but I would have to go to more and more extreme measures of wickedness toward him to get their attention.
Finally one day I was such an ass to him that I sent him away in tears. The cool kids loved me, but their attention meant nothing to me anymore. The stress of being an asshole can really get to you if you are not careful and I had decided I that enough was enough.
A few days later, after not making fun of Eli for a while, the cool kids asked me why I was hanging out with them. I was sent out of the group to roam the lunch area. I was almost in tears, because I realized that I had been living a lie for most of the year. I broke down behind some bushes and cried like a baby for a while.
I saw that Eli was watching me. I came out from behind the bush and he walked over to me. He smiled, held out his hand and said “friends?” I couldn’t face him after all that I had done. I looked over to where the cool kids were sitting and saw them watching me. I turned my back to him and walked away.
The rest of the year I couldn’t hang out with him. Finally the year ended and I had three months to collect my thoughts. I didn’t see Eli all summer and he didn’t come back to school the next year. Slowly, I reinserted myself into the school community.
A few years later I saw him out and about on a Friday night. He recognized me right off and came over to talk to me. Either he had forgotten about our fifth grade year, or he had just never hated me for what I did. We spent a few minutes catching up before he went on his way. I haven’t seen him since, but I can never forgive myself for what I did.

Monday, April 23, 2007

WA#10 draft 3

I woke up this morning with a funny feeling in my mouth. It felt like my teeth were moldy. I remembered drinking a coke before bed, and I had a feeling that might have had something to do with it. But that could not be all there was to the story. I searched through my memories and found that I had not brushed my teeth the morning before either.
Suddenly it all became clear. My teeth were covered in plaque! I hopped out of bed and ran into the bathroom. A quick look in the mirror proved my theory correct, and I went about finding a solution to my plaque problem. I thought long and hard and came up with a plan of action. I organized a small strike force of Listerine, but it was ambushed and ran around my mouth in circles before finally disappearing down the drain of the sink. Upon closer inspection of the bottle, I found that Listerine only killed bacteria. As I stared into my reflection, my resolve hardened and I vowed that my teeth would be free of plaque by the time I left the bathroom.
The plaque was tougher then it looked, so I decided to bust out a manual tooth brush and some fluoride toothpaste. With a master’s touch, I dampened the bristles and applied just the right amount of toothpaste so that none would be wasted but I could still reach maximum brushing potential.
I knew my strategy could not fail, and so I brushed for a solid two minutes; then checked out how much damage had been done. To my relief, the extensive brushing had put the plaque in a weakened state; however my toothbrush was in similar condition. I jumped at the opportunity and grabbed my electric tooth brush and tarter control toothpaste and let those two do the talking. I deployed them in my mouth and finally, my mouth raw and gums bleeding, I released the power switch. The plaque was defeated and was retreating down the drain of the sink with my spit hot on it’s heals. My mouth felt fresh and invigorated. I spat out the blood, and killed the remaining plaque with some dental floss.
A great victory had been won. The sanitation of my mouth had been preserved, despite overwhelming odds. I replaced the toothbrushes and dried my face on the way out of the bathroom. I had upheld my promise to my teeth and had rid them of the plaque. What a perfect way to start the day.

Wednesday, April 18, 2007

WA#10 draft 2

I woke up this morning with a funny feeling in my mouth. It felt like my teeth were moldy. I remembered drinking a coke before bed, and I had a feeling that might have had something to do with it. But that could not be all there was to the story. I searched through my memories and found that I had not brushed my teeth the morning before either.
Suddenly it all became clear. My teeth were covered in plaque! I hopped out of bed and ran into the bathroom. A quick look in the mirror proved my theory correct, and I went about finding a solution to my plaque problem. I thought long and hard and came up with a plan of action. I organized a small strike force of listorine, but it ran around my mouth in circles and finaly dissapeared into the sink. Upon closser inspecton of the bottle I found that listorine only killed bacteria. As I stared into my reflection, my resolve hardened and I vowed that my teeth would be free of plaque by the time I left the bathroom.
The plaque was tougher then it looked, so I decided to bust out a manual tooth brush and some fluoride toothpaste. With a master’s touch, I dampened the bristles and applied just the right amount of toothpaste so that none would be wasted but I could still reach maximum brushing potential.
I knew my stratagy could not fail, and so I brushed for a solid two minutes; then checked out how much damage had been done. To my relief, the extensive brushing had put the plaque in a weakened state, however my toothbrush was in similar condition. I jumped at the opportunity and grabbed my electric tooth brush and tarter control toothpaste and let those two do the talking. I deployed them in my mouth and finally, my mouth raw and gums bleeding, I released the power switch. The plaque was defeated and was retreating down the drain of the sink with my spit hot on it’s heals. My mouth felt fresh and invigorated. I spat out the blood, and killed the remaining plaque with some dental floss.
A great victory had been won. The sanitation of my mouth had been preserved, despite overwhelming odds. I replaced the toothbrushes and dried my face on the way out of the bathroom. I had upheld my promise to my teeth and had rid them of the plaque. What a perfect way to start the day.

Monday, April 09, 2007

WA#10 draft 1

I woke up this morning with a funny feeling in my mouth. It felt like my teeth were moldy. I remembered drinking a coke before bed, and I had a feeling that might have had something to do with it. But that could not be all there was to the story. I searched through my memories and found that I had not brushed my teeth the morning before either.

Suddenly it all became clear. My teeth were covered in plaque! I hopped out of bed and ran into the bathroom. A quick look in the mirror proved my theory correct, and I went about finding a solution to my plaque problem. My first thought was to swish Listerine, but as it turned out, that just tasted really bad. As I stared into my reflection, my resolve hardened and I vowed that my teeth would be free of plaque by the time I left the bathroom.

The plaque was tougher then it looked, so I decided to bust out a manual tooth brush and some fluoride toothpaste. With a master’s touch, I dampened the bristles and applied just the right amount of toothpaste so that none would be wasted but I could still reach maximum brushing potential.

I brushed for a solid two minutes, and then checked out how much damage had been done. To my relief, the extensive brushing had put the plaque in a weakened state. I jumped at the opportunity and grabbed my electric tooth brush and tarter control toothpaste and let those two do the talking. Finally, my mouth raw and gums bleeding, I released the power switch. The plaque was defeated and was retreating down the drain of the sink with my spit hot on it’s heals. My mouth felt fresh and invigorated. I spat out the blood, and killed the remaining plaque with some dental floss.

A great victory had been won. The sanitation of my mouth had been preserved, despite overwhelming odds. I replaced the toothbrushes and dried my face on the way out of the bathroom. I had upheld my promise to my teeth and had rid them of the plaque. What a perfect way to start the day.

Wednesday, March 07, 2007

WA#9 draft 3

He stares out his window
His mind is blank and empty
Taking for granted all the time
When he should be doing work
Hoping that he can make the climb
And not worry about the future

yet he tries to envision the future
Living in a house with a bay window
A stream running down a hill, a steep Climb
he would have an refrigerator, never empty
he would live a life of plenty, but not controlled by Work
never worrying about time

That would be his Time
the time he would work for the Future
that would be his life’s Work
time to break the Window
his life never empty
To the top he would Clime

He remembers other times he tried to Climb
he failed time after time
He could never make it, he would blank
He could not see his Future
He wanted change, could see it through the Window
But he could never Work

But now things are different, he can Work
He makes the ClimbHe breaks the Window
He pulls his life together, he now has Time
The future beckons, he has made his own Future
He made it what it is, a canvas empty

An empty canvas
His whole life’s Work
so he made his Future