"Give it your all."
It's something they say when they want 100%.
Your A game.
It's something I've done all my life.
Whenever my parents went to conferences for school, all the reviews said were that I was a great kid. Always tried my hardest.
My dad would complement(more) me on what a great job I was doing.
I hate complements.
What's really the point of them?
I have the evidence to know I'm doing well.
It seemed like I was trying to live up to his expectations.
I wasn't. The only expectations I was living off of were my own.
Some people thought B's were good.
It was nice to impress others, I suppose, but I wasn't trying to prove it.
Anyone who thinks otherwise is just kidding themselves. (less)
Once I saw a woman fall over.
She tripped on a step she didn't even know was there.
She had white hair, and wrinkles littered her skin.
My mother let out an audible gasp. She has always had a soft spot for the victimized elderly.
I wondered if that(more) woman was embarrassed. Did she think 'Why here? Why now?,' or was she grateful that everyone present helped her up, and soothed her with comforting words?
Or even worse, did she do it on purpose?
When I see people, I think of their stories. They always have a good life story and a bad one.
Was that man smoking a cigarette on the street a drug dealer?
Or did his girlfriend make him mad, so he went out for a smoke to calm him down?
Did his dad, an honorable veteran, go outside to light a cigar?
Or is he trying to be rebellious in some demented way?
Is that women jealous of her boyfriend, or the girl he is talking to?
I will never know,
But its nice to think that there is good in the world. (less)
I didn't really know you at all, and the things that I found out were mostly from your cousin. But I did see you sometimes, coming home from practice, carrying a jersey covered in sweat. I went to a game once; you were good. College potential, I would think,(more) even if I know nothing about it. You wrenched out your shoulder. I try to imagine this happening. Did you cry? Was the pain too much to keep conscious? They took you to the hospital. The doctor told you to always sit on the bench. Going out to the field just meant more pain for you. But I guess sitting on the bench was agony, because the next game I went to, you played. Maybe not to your former glory, but you did it. I often wonder, why couldn't you have just stayed on that bench? I am worried about you. The doctor said no wrestling, either, but I hear from your cousin that you're still on the team. You don't get paid for pain, so why participate? (less)
Sheer recklessness struck that day. Was it because life was too boring, or that he needed to take a shortcut? Because he needed a thrill? I think the latter. Although he seemed like a good man, I've heard of his murky past, of fighting, of poaching, and driving irresponsibly. He(more) married into a new family, and brought two of his own members. One girl, and one boy.
Was he alone when it happened? I'd like to think so.
His young might have taken from his example. One day, the boy, who had grown older and gotten his license, got into a car accident. Being only 17, his license was suspended. I think he might've driven it anyways, but I was never in the car if he did.
This man drove a beat up car that was extremely dirty. The windows were covered in mud.
The wires were broken.
Nothing serious, but his son (who he forced to drive it, while he drove the nice new car they had bought) had to use those hand signals you learn about.
I remember once, over a summer, I took Geometry. It started out the eight of us. We were all nerds, mostly attempting to make sure we got into calculus in our senior years. Geometry, if you didn't know, is all about puzzles. Like in court, trying to prove something(more) you know is true. The book was older than my teacher, but we couldn't afford new ones. Every week, we would have study time together at school. This was the highlight of my week, usually. We always got off topic, and didn't work very hard. I discovered that I hated Geometry with a passion (as did my peers). I skipped most of the material, and didn't grade it like we were supposed to. So, as more and more of us dropped out, the deadline to take the test, the big final, drew nearer. By the second week of school, we had to have taken it. Only four of us remained having done the curriculum and able to take the test.. I passed, barely, with a C (and then a B after the teacher curbed it), and to this day, I still hate shapes. Especially circles. (less)
He was a businessman. His employees thought him as ruthless. This was true. His customers were afraid to dispute him, because he had chewed them out loudly, and thoroughly, every time that he did. In fact, the company had lost three clients already because of his rudeness, and a misunderstanding(more) with a coupon. He fancied himself a top dog, the big cheese, but really, he was a loser.
Outside of work, no one knew of his high status. The "Top Dog" couldn't stand this, and went out of his way to downgrade what he felt were his lessers. So, in his common haunts, he became hated. He really only had pompous friends, and they did not make him happy. He felt lost, with no place. Which, of course, was ridiculous. His only with was to be remembered, and treated well. But, after he had long retired, and his associates were sitting with their families, reminiscing of good times, his name never came up, and he was forgotten. (less)
I have a dream. On different days, but it is always the same one. It is really the only thing I can count on to be there for me. When it begins, I am in a mall, or maybe an airport, going down an escalator. My hands are in(more) cuffs. Going down means the loss of my freedom, and probably my sanity. Perhaps because I am so disheartened, I'm not sure, the windows break. They all smash at the same time. I do not know why, but I think the heavens are sending me a sign. I break away from my captors, and very suddenly, my handcuffs are like paper. I rip them, and the bonds tying me are no longer there. I run, out through a window and into the wild. I fly away, like a bird. I go where no one can find me unless they aren't trying. Maybe I will be caught some day, but at this moment, I am happy, and I am free. (less)
Ants trickle. They are everywhere, going about their own business. They remind me of humans. Do they really care about each other, or are they indifferent? Same as us, I guess. Some group together, in their underground dens, while others make a living getting crumbs, then eating them. I killed(more) an ant, once, by a post office. My dad said "Did you do that on purpose? I lied, and said it was an accident. Did anyone miss that ant? Or was it alone in this world, living in a dream, and estranged? Was it happy that I had made it die, or did it have hoards of mourning friends come to its door step and give their condolences to its family? (less)
I remember a commercial that always played on the DVD's I watched as a kid. It was kind of weird, because it was the same commercial, on so many separate movies. It played loud, hardcore music, which I disliked. I hate how the commercials always play louder than the(more) show itself. The commercial was about pirating. "You wouldn't steal a purse," it said, as a teenage thug stole some lady's purse. "You wouldn't steal a cell phone" As it cut to a close up of someone stealing one of those really old phones. The whole thing was in black and white, and all flashy, which was bound to cause someone a seizure. Then it said "So why would you steal a DVD?" and "Pirating IS stealing." I remember thinking how it had nothing to do with me. But now I know people, friends of mine, who do download things illegally. Even a teacher of mine has admitted to it. Everyone who does it acts like it is not a big deal, but my mind always goes back to the commercial. A job well done, I guess. (less)
when I was little
I used to walk through a dark forest.
I think it represented pain, and unhappiness
(more) When I got through it, there was a house.
A small house, more like a cottage than anything else.
There was a family there
They fed me,
and clothed me,
and made me happy.
They were kind.
After a few years, I heard a rumor.
The family was dead.
Overtaken by the dark forest and the creatures that lurked within,
They were eaten by wolves.
I cried when I found out.
I went home
and huddled in my bed
and waited for the wolves to eat me.
But they would not.
They refused to take my flesh, my offering.
I didn't know what to do with myself.
As I sobbed on the cold, hard floor
I decided I would avenge the family that had made me happy
And so I hunt every night and day, never sleeping,
I hunt the wolves that haunt me
But they are evasive
and I cannot catch them
Though they refused my flesh,
they will not let me have theirs
And I suffer
my kindness (less)
We played on the muddy banks when we were little. We would catch frogs and lighting bugs. But you never liked the newts that I showed you. "Too crawly," you used to say. Our mothers would always worry, of course we might fall into the river, they complained. But(more) we never cared. Because the muddy banks was our home, where we would play from dawn til dusk, and always go to our beds in the night covered in dirt and slime. I think I fell in love then, with your blond hair shining in the sunlight, and nature humming around us. The muddy banks had seduced me. As butterflies fluttered around us, I did not think of the things I had yet to do, or the chores that were left unfinished. No. Because my home was the muddy banks. What could change that?
The answer to that question, of course, is life. We grew apart from the muddy banks. We decided we preferred the city life. The noise, the bustle, the people, that became attractive to us. But as we separated from our banks, we separated from each other. My other half suddenly wasn't good enough. The city, though, was more than enough. The energy and sound called out to me like the butterflies had not. As you became angry, I resented you. Who were you to have control over me? So I left. And now, my other half, I call out to you. Where have all the flowers and friendship gone? Gone, forever, (less)
Popeye. It used to be my mother's favorite TV show. Still is, but now she doesn't really favor anything. She used to be really pretty, but now she's wasted away. It wasn't anything to do with anything, really. It's not that her husband doesn't really love her, or her(more) child getting progressively worse grades. I guess its just that there are better things to do than live. Like, you know how a close friend or relative dies, and the people that knew them just kind of wither inside? Like that. She's addicted. Not to meth, or weed, or whatever they're calling drugs these days. It's a disease known as the inter web. She spends all of her time on Facebook, playing Farmville. She checks her email every three minutes, all while glued to the sofa, half listening to her favorite show, Popeye, known as the sailor man. I think she wishes she could live in a world like that, where you don't need will power to be stronger, just spinach. But then again, I don't really think she has intellectual thoughts. Heck, my mother used to be her own sailor man. She didn't need anyone. Her spinach used to be love, or liveliness. But now she has retired her sail, depending on my father for money, and Domino's for food. She wastes her life on the computer, instead of out there, sailing into the sunset, with satisfaction. (less)
Everything is a test. It is all brought to you by society. Some may take a math quiz, and think "It's only a test." They are okay with getting bad grades, and they are losers. I've been taught my whole life to ace everything. I wear the clothes society(more) asks me to wear. I act the way society likes. I get straight A's. I am the nerd, the most beautiful, and the most popular person you've ever known. I take things seriously. Everyone who thinks otherwise is just kidding themselves. (less)
The shortest path I take is everywhere, but I go nowhere. Some may call me lazy. The're just assholes. I have been in a haven for 7 years. No one knows why.
I used to be the fittest kid you knew. But now I am fat. I have nothin(more)g to give for my sad, sad existence.
My parents resent me (shouldn't it be the other way around?), I have no friends, and no lust for women, because I would get nothing put of it.
My life is wrong.
I know a place where the grass is greener. It would be a short path to get there. But I never go anywhere. (less)