Bzzzzzzzz

Bzzzzzzzz. I hate mosquitos. They think they own the world... and they dont even taste good. I stuck an arm out. It was raining. I closed my eyes again. This mushroom was small, I felt rather cramped. It didnt help that there was a frog also staying under the same mushroom. I hate frogs more than mosquitos. They think they're superior to us just because they have smooth skin. I nudge him. "Hey French dinner, why are you so afraid of getting wet?" He hopped out into the rain and just as quickly hopped back, nudging me back with his slimy, wet body. "I'm not. I just want to make your life miserable wort face". I hate frogs. I moved to the other side of the mushroom, hoping the stem would be enough to permanently separate us for the remainder of the storm. An earth worm popped up to my left. "Mine" I called. Warning the slime wad that if he went for it I would find the nearest predator and walk him over, rain be damned. I went to get it and my tongue hit his. I growled and yelled "I called it! My tongue touched yours! Gross!" The frog smirked. "I got it first." I hopped out into the rain and found a fow. It chased me back to the mushroom where the frog sat wondering what I was doing. When he saw the fox, he stated hopping away. The fox chased after the frog because slimeballs are far more delicious than toads. I sat back under the mushroom and closed my eyes until I felt a paw grabbing at me. Apparently the frog had hopped into the water and the fox, still hungry, returned for me. I hate frogs.

- (Post Dedicated to My best friend Zoe Wilkerson)

wow!!!!!!!!

I am now my own follower!!!!! crazy!

Just curious

I've been wondering, can you be your own follower on this blog?

Disappointment

So I have always thought that I could write a decent story. I may not be the next Ernest Hemingway but I thought it was at least good for a high school student. However, just recently I sent a story and a poem I wrote in to our school literary magazine... nothing. They didn't take any of it.
Yes, my pride is ridiculous.
Yes, my pride is hurt.
This isn't the first time stuff like this has happened... this is just the first time I can sound like a wimpy, over emotional teenager in some online blog...

I have decided that starting today I will try to post at least one piece of personal lit. on this blog every week.
Who knows, maybe someone will come by and give me the ultimate secret to being a better writer.

Remember Remember...

They never said it couldn’t be done… never did they say it was impossible, not once…

They said it was wrong, they said we shouldn’t, they said don’t, they said no… but we soon found out that it was possible. And ohhh when we got started there was no stopping us. We spread our wings and soared high out of reach from the grimy, sticky hands of the world that wished to cage us. We soared higher and higher out of grasp from those on earth… so high we lost touch with earth. We no longer remembered that which had forced us to learn to fly; so out of touch that the lines between right and wrong became skewed… and eventually disappeared altogether.

It started small, just little things at first, tests… but like all things it escalated when we realized we could get away with it. It continued unpunished for what felt like an eternity… of course it wasn’t, really it was only a few months, but that was long enough for it to already get out of control… out of anyone’s control. Out of their control, out of our control, nothing could stop the coming tidal wave. A trail of destruction followed us wherever we went. We abandoned our schools, our homes, our families, our friends, our hopes, our dreams, our futures, we abandoned the world. The punishment for our crime is death. Failure is met with death. Success is met with death.  We roam the abyss searching for the next euphoric high… we live the life of adrenaline junkies.

We come in all shapes and all forms, from all corners of the world. The abandoned, the lonely, the misunderstood, the spoiled, the happy, the sad, the abused, the pampered, there is no way of picking us out from a crowd, no way of stopping us… we are hundreds. A force too great to be ignored but too small to be given any attention… You merely acknowledge our existence, leaving us to fade, unseen into the background.

We are the forgotten. We are the lost. We are the found.

From this day forth you will always remember us. Today is the day we sear our presence deep into your memory. Today is the day we shed our place among the forgotten. Today is the day we take back what has been stolen from the humans of this world. Today is the day when we will once again remind the world how it feels. Today is the day we return the terror and instill it into the hearts of all beings.

Today is the day.

Vengeance is ours.

Don't Scream

"Beware the stare of Mary Shaw. She has no children, only dolls. If you see her in your dreams. Be sure you never, ever scream or she'll rip your tongue out at the seam"
      It is a little past midnight. Serena just left. The Russian exchange student my family is hosting went to bed. My father hugged me goodnight and I am now in my room... alone... staring into the face of my All American Girl Doll. Normally this would only be half as creepy as it is tonight. Dolls like this have always scared me... they just have a terrifyingly human aura that makes them... well scary. Tonight, however, is different. It is different because Serena, Mike, Dad and I just finished watching "Dead Silence," a movie about a doll lady and her dolls... and ALL the people they kill... so sitting here starring at my already creepy doll is a bit unnerving. As a whole the movie wasn't all that scary, but it feeds upon the already embedded fear of these dolls... I think ill just put mine in Dad's room tonight. (Not that I'm scared or anything... its just in case...)
It is getting kind of weird being the only person awake in the house so ill just say a few things about the movie and then try to get some sleep.
1. once again (as predicted) my favorite character dies...my favorite character always dies... i am proud to say, however, that his dying is not entirely his need to scream when frightened... he had a Legit reason to be screaming (while one person towards the end had no reason at all to be screaming)
2. another once again moment is when i say that my instincts were right... about where the responsibility belongs... however the ending really threw me off... i mean really???... so much for our hero coming in to save the day.
It was difficult writing about the movie without giving too much away because as a whole i really did not like it but there were some things in there that i loved...
please! If you think I gave too much information and ruined it for you Please! tell me so I can learn not to be so forthcoming with the information.

Right now I am in a bit of a predicament... tomorrow all four of my library books are due... the four that I have yet to read. I'm not sure what happened really. Usually I am a dedicated reader but these past few weeks since school started has been something else... something so "else" it has kept me from my usual four books every two weeks goal that has become more of a ritual since I finally got a library card. You would think that someone who reads so much would have a library card but for the longest time I was against having one. I have no idea why I was against it... there really isn't any rational reasoning behind it but this summer I took the plunge and requested my very own library card... but recently I have read less than ever before... It doesn't make sense! I am the kid whose mother walks in and yells something along the lines of "will you stop reading for two seconds and go get some sun" (I am very pale and probably don't get enough sun)
I have read the first page of all the books though. One was soooo ridiculous I had to put it down and make a note of the author so I would not be tricked my a catchy title again. One of the other books was interesting looking but the first chapter was a family tree... and didn't have enough to grab the attention of this superficial book lover. The other two I plan on reading all the way though. One is called Ash and I guess I have a soft spot for story telling. I'm already half way through it. The other is: I am a Genius of Unspeakable Evil and I want to be Your Class President... All Ive read of it is the first few pages but... it got my attention.

You should be Studying

My sister once told me that I was a good writer... the more I sit in front of this empty "new post" page the more I begin to doubt the sincerity in that statement. Then I realised I never explained my choice in title for this blog.
My favorite teacher in the world quit last year leaving us at the mercy of our school to decide the next one. (So far I agree with their choice) However, I miss my teacher dearly. She decided to go back and enter into medical school. This whole summer she was supposed to be studying for a big test she had to take, but she just couldn't pry herself away from facebook (many of us have discovered that it is quite addictive) so she gave her boyfriend her password and told him to change it. Every time she asked for it so she could just "check it real quick" he said "you should be studying" so she went back and studied. Then finally about two weeks ago she took her test! yay! That's when she asked him again what her password is and once again he replied "you should be studying"
If you haven't figured it out yet, her password was "you should be studying".
The whole summer he had been telling her the password!!
She told us this story when she came to visit us and it stuck with me :)

Lies Like White Light

Crowds of Jewels
the truth did win

Lies & Lies
in silver skin

The brightest eyes
can't see within

The darkest lies
Truth's noble kin

Hello :)

Sitting in a farm house that can hardly be called a farm house except for the fact that it is bright red with white trim, I discuss the meaning of life with my sister... that's a lie. In reality we are just playing on the Internet (which can hardly be called Internet since it took over an hour to load and create this stupid blog) We were playing around with my sister's blog, posting a poem she wrote, LINK!!!!! when she suggested that we make a blog for me too. Usually the thought of writing personal stories about myself and posting them on the Internet for any old creeper to discover and follow would repulse me, but I just wrote my first poem that I don't feel like hiding away in a drawer so it can never haunt the human race with the memory of how badly it was written; therefore i feel like putting it on the Internet!!! Isn't this just the perfect place?!