I'm always writing, and that seems to take up a large amount of my life. So I think its only fit to put some of the things I've written down on my page. Makes sense, right?
Below are some samples of things I have written. The first two are poems. Poetry sickens me unless it is done right and doesn't seem like it should be in some "chick flick"- if ya know what I mean. I think i did this poem right though. It started out as an assignment- but i wrote it as something mostly for myself. It means a lot to me. You will be confused by it, no doubt, and to tell you what it means would be like a magician telling the onlooker how all his tricks are done. So make your own theories and enjoy:
I shall be alone once again
I watched the two go slowly
With a tear in each eye
Soon the third will go
far, so far, into oblivion
With this will come my last chance
For hope, for joy, for simplicity
No, it does not end with the three fallen birds
There are still the two seats at the end of the table
They will go slowly, sadly I’m sure
I will watch
With a sharp eye on each
I will cry, I will mourn, I could flee
Though I threaten the action
I will never leave their side
For in the flickering flames
That rest in each of their eyes
I see the chance once again
For hope, for joy, for simplicity
But then the two birds shall fall
From their thick branch on high
and it will end for me
That lingering hope for joy and simplicity
And when all is said and all is done
I will have lost my last chance
For hope, for joy, for sanity
It drowns me
This pure pain of yours
Purer than the purest element
Elemental beings we die
Death, the sweetest of sacrements
We ascend
My spirit and I
To an unknown world
Of dirt and ashes
It is the latter which holds patience
I wait, the pain eduring
I endure the nightmare
My dream grows empty
My heart, it dies
My brain, it ceases to exist
The ceaseless future burns on
I fade into the ashes
The wind picks up
And I float into the sea
I am no more.
This next section I will call my "editorial" section. Its a mix of different things i have written for my newspaper. One is an article written on "the third eye" and the the other, "Wintry Circumstances" is a story i did for a class of mine- but it was published, in a way- well here it is, not the best of my talents, but i like it:
Wintry Circumstances
WHAT IS THE THIRD EYE?
okay...this is a big one i guess...lots of reading. It's just the first two pages of a story i just started. It may seem a little crazy, but its a totally new style of writing for me. I am usually 100% realist- well now im getting a little into the fantastical--- check it out:
-These violent occurrences began a week ago from this very day. Mathias and his mother, Adrienne, were taking their daily walk. Now Mathias, Cain, and their mother never truly knew who their real father was. Cain was out of town for personal time of which he refused to explain, leaving Mathias and their mother the only ones in the family home. While he and his mother were on their walk, their home was broken into; all precious things destroyed. Two days later, an arrow and note with a message written in blood was pinned to their door. The message read: “One shall die.” What this meant Mathias never truly could decipher. The two occurrences had left his mother in shock, and she declined every one of Mathias’s invitations to speak. To Mathias it seemed as though his mother knew, or maybe just felt that something awful was about to happen. Mathias prayed that this was just a misunderstanding.
-And now, towering above him was his house burning from the core. He knew his mother was in their, his creator and his protector, he had only one choice. He covered his face and ran into their cottage. The smoke consumed him and he felt on the verge of passing out... yet he ran further. Into her room he tumbled, and he found her huddled in the corner. She was holding a case of some sort and Mathias struggled to pull it out of her hands yet she refused to let god. So he picked up his mother and her case and stumbled out of the burning house with each in his arms. He ran and ran until he was on the outskirts of town and could breathe fresh air. He laid his mother down gently and kissed her softly on the forehead. She was not burnt too badly but she was weak, Mathias could tell. Though she was wheezing and crying, she held tight to the small, square black case. Mathias now sat down on the cold grass beneath him. He pulled his knees close to his body and rested his head upon them. As if in slow motion Mathias sees the village in front of them afire and people running… screaming. Behind them is a grassy field and beyond that are endless woods. A man walks out of the woods; he is tall just as Mathias, a little over six feet tall. He stands and surveys the wreckage that is his home. He drops his bags, and stares. Mathias hears the bags drop then quickly turns around, and suddenly his slow motion world speeds up. He squeezes his mother’s hand, jumps up, and runs to his brother Cain.
“Dearest Cain, where have you been this awful week?”
“In the woods, I told you and mother so. I need to think, because weird things, things that were out of my control, were happening to me.”
“Well look at this place? This is no time for you childish wanderings.” Mathias realizes he is too hasty in his judging and says, “Well, whatever it is, I hope you feel better. Now we must tend to mother.”
Cain nods in agreement and runs with Mathias to their mother.
“What are we supposed to do now?” Mathias asks of Cain when they reach their mother.
“There is a clearing deep in the woods where I had set up camp. It’s safe and there is plenty of food with me now. You stay with mother there and I will begin a journey to find help.” Cain, the ever intelligent one, decides.
-They check with their mother, but she is sleeping. Her breathing seems steady, and the brothers are satisfied. Cain, the larger of the two, carries the mother as they walk deeper and deeper into the woods. By the time the reach the camp, night is upon them. It is in the middle of summer, so thankfully the temperature is not a problem, only the bugs. Cain has with him all the supplies to make a tent and a fire. He cooks up some fish he had caught the previous night. Adrienne awakes to the smell of the cooking fish. She is overcome with joy to see each of her sons before her, but then is hit with the awful pains in her chest from inhaling too much smoke during the fire.
She coughs, “Oh thank god, you are alive Mathias! And Cain, you are back? Or is this the camp you have been staying at?” She looks around and her slight smile is replaced by a large frown as tears begin to roll out of her eyes.
“We lost the house didn’t we boys? What are we to do now?” She looks to the faces of her sons.
Mathias looks to Cain for help, because he cannot think of the right things to say.
“Mother, do not worry about the living arrangements just yet,” He pauses.
“First thing in the morning I will set off to the next town in search of a doctor to help you with your condition.”
Their mother nods. She is saddened because she knows there is no helping her now. Not with what the future has in store. Not with the fact that she knows she does not have much time left in this life. But she can not sadden her sons with this news just yet.
-They eat their dinner and lay down for sleep. The mother has the tent to herself while Mathis sleeps just outside of it. Cain, however, does not rest. He only walks about the camp, thinking. This feeling he has been suffering from for over a month now. The feeling at first made him so sick he would vomit. The images, the awful images, they would not stop at times. It was not so now. No, not now, he thought. He was beginning to enjoy them. This frightened him now though. Was he losing his mind? Was this the end? Or would he simply carry on? Or did this mean change? Young Cain, still a teenager, could only speculate.
-The sun finally rises the next morning and Cain sets out on his journey. He is not sure exactly where he is heading… Geography wise, and even deeper; in his mind, his future. He senses a change to come about in his life. No, not just losing the house and setting out to find somewhere else to live… but as a person. Cain feels as though something much worse is going to happen. And what’s more, he has the strongest suspicion that his mother may have something to do with it. . .
Well that's about all im going to post for now. Thanks for checking it all out. I would be very grateful if you emailed me with any opinions. the address at the bottom is good and so is this one: Cheezwiz17@hotmail.com .. or even just signing the guestbook on the previous page is cool. THANKS AGAIN!
When all is said and done
Here's another...
Winslow and his family’s life were in a shambles at this current time of war. It happened every fall and winter, when the leaves lost their prominent hue and soon faded away to oblivion. It was usually the time when Winslow could take his son for a short stroll and each could feel the leaves crumble beneath them. It was no longer that way, now he loses at least a third of his extensive family to the massive gunfire every year. He lost his only son last year and it was almost too much for the unfortunate Winslow. He ignored his wife and even his two other daughters for a while it kept him going. It was two months into this year’s war and Winslow had already lost all of his neighbors. He knew there was a family a few miles away that was still alive, because they would stop by every once in a while. Winslow’s wife, Ruby, had thanked them for this, yet warned them to stay away for a bit, that maybe that was the safest thing to do at this point and time. Ruby had forced their daughters to hide away and keep safe. Winslow was the only one who wandered away from home during this time, and he only left to search for food. The only fortunate thing that came from losing all their neighbors was that there happened to be an abundance of food, so Winslow did not have to wander far. On this very day he had decided to drift away from his home in search of food. Winslow was searching the trees and the ground when he heard a rumbling resonance. The rumbling grew louder and he sensed motion around him; Winslow froze. Then he felt it, what he had always feared; the blast, and then an awful pain shot through his heart. The gunfire was from all directions and he soon collapsed to the ground. Winslow was dying now, he did not want to, but he knew this was the way it had to be.
Now the two men who fired approached Winslow’s body and crouch down in front of him.
“I think this is the biggest one we’ve caught all season.”
“Sure is quite a buck we’ve caught our selves. Now let’s find a way to tie it down to the truck, he may not fit. . .”
I first learned about the third eye; scientifically name the pineal gland, from the band Tool. The picture you see is one of the band’s many logos. Seeing this picture and hearing their song, “My Third Eye”, inspired me to read up on the subject. What I learned was not only surprising, but fascinating as well. The band’s outlook on the Pineal Gland contains more or less the whole mythology surrounding this mystifying object. This year, however, in my biosystems class, I learned the facts and maybe the most intriguing aspects too. The pineal gland can be found in not only the human brain, but in any other mammalian brain. In some creatures it is more noticeable, but in humans it is hidden in the very center of the brain. The third eye is the body’s own internal timer that controls the aging process, and it also produces and important hormone; Melatonin. Man has been fascinated with the Pineal Gland for more the 2,500 years, and at the start it was first discovered in early autopsies. The pineal gland did start out as somewhat of a “Third Eye” in lower animals. In one such animal, a New Zealand lizard, there is a noticeable indentation on the top of its head which allows light to shine on the pineal.
Maybe this part does not interest you, but it is the myth and controversy that has always kept my attention. Theologians have been outraged by one French philosopher’s speculations that the soul is operated through the pineal gland. This relates to where the pineal gland received the title of, “The Third Eye”. It was named by Hindu mystics who believed that it was the site from which the soul departed the body during the highest meditative states. This is where Tool and many others picked up their enthrallment in the Third Eye.
In the past ten years science has made a great advance using the pineal gland. They noticed that the gland is largest in children and then shrinks as the child gets older. They also noticed it is larger in women. Women are known to live longer than men. It was also found that the pineal gland was much smaller and there was much less melatonin production in cancer patients and others who are chronically ill. It is understood that the pineal gland and melatonin control the aging process, and of course they would shrink with age and sickness seeing as the body is coming closer and closer to death. This is where the advance comes in. Almost a decade ago scientist release bottled pills of melatonin supplements. Some people rely on this pill daily for they believe the more melatonin in their system, the longer they will live. Many people, including scientists and researchers, believe that Melatonin and its producer; the pineal gland, may be the one true, “Fountain of Youth.”
-The time was calling to him; he could feel it in his veins as he rushed past the dying tees to his childhood home. His small village was smoldering around him, the black air filled his lungs as his chest heaved. When he was growing inside his mother’s womb, and even until the moment he was born, Mathias was not alone. He had a twin. He was once a shy boy who became a powerful man; Mathias loved Cain with all his heart. Now, Mathias was being hunted by a force of which he was not aware. Yet the strongest feeling in the center of his heart told him that these events had something to do with his twin brother, Cain.
