I feel unhappy
I feel so sad
I'v lost the best friend
That I ever had
She was my woman
I loved her so
But it's too late now
I've let her go
I'm going through changes
I'm going through changes
We shared the years
We shared each day
In love together
We found a way
But soon the world
Had its evil way
My heart was blinded
Love went astray
I'm going through changes
I'm going through changes
It took so long
To realize
That I can still hear
Her last goodbyes
Now all my days
Are filled with tears
Wish I could go back
And change these years
I'm going through changes
I'm going through changes
Monday, January 31, 2011
Friday, January 28, 2011
ZMA gives me weird dreams. (ACN Rage Dream)
ZMA (Zinc, Magnesium, Vitamin B6) is a nighttime recovery supplement. Lets just say this combination of vitamins and minerals causes one to dream of strange things...
On the night of January 27th (my sister's birthday) I popped three of these dreamworld pills. At approximately 2:31a.m. I woke up to Zachary Hojnacki speaking obscenities to himself while he was sleeping. I was confused and tried to gather what exactly had just happened in my subconscious. I just had the weirdest dream. This is the most I could interpret a few hours after the dream happened...
It all started as a normal Sunday in Tucson. I was with Jenny Forester, Dana Christ, A.J. Tipton, and Jordan Slaughter. The typical crew for a Sunday Funday. We drank hard the night before and as usual I ended up sleeping at Champs on a couch. I was awaken to A.J. screaming something like "I hate my fucccking lifee, lets take some shots you chodes!" I couldn't refuse the proposal so at 8:30 in the morning we began taking shots of Vodka.
After several hours things began to get strange. At some point Adam Small and Matt Barber had shown up and brought food for us to grill and to join in on our Sunday ritual. I remember everyone eating except for Jordan. Maybe this is why he reached a level unachievable for the others.
When we came back inside from eating, Jordan had downed the next handle of Vodka by himself. When Slaughter saw us he screamed "LET'S GO!" We was very excited about something. I don't remember what, but he began chanting "ACN, ACN, ACN." (Slaughter's company that he works for). Apparently he had just landed a huge deal with them and wanted to celebrate. Individual party some call it. He started throwing handles against the wall and continued yelling "Let's go." Slaughter then disappeared to his room and brought out a huge piece of steel. How he carried it I have no idea. He started to spin in circles with the huge beam and it destroyed everything in its path. Matt Barber was instantly decapitated. There was blood sprayed all over the walls and everyone started to scramble. Dana picked up Barbie's (Matt Barber) head and ran with it. I ran into AJ's room, and AJ was taking a dumb with his door open. I am not sure where everyone else went, but I am guessing they died in Slaughter's ACN rage.
This is all I remember. I love these people.
On the night of January 27th (my sister's birthday) I popped three of these dreamworld pills. At approximately 2:31a.m. I woke up to Zachary Hojnacki speaking obscenities to himself while he was sleeping. I was confused and tried to gather what exactly had just happened in my subconscious. I just had the weirdest dream. This is the most I could interpret a few hours after the dream happened...
It all started as a normal Sunday in Tucson. I was with Jenny Forester, Dana Christ, A.J. Tipton, and Jordan Slaughter. The typical crew for a Sunday Funday. We drank hard the night before and as usual I ended up sleeping at Champs on a couch. I was awaken to A.J. screaming something like "I hate my fucccking lifee, lets take some shots you chodes!" I couldn't refuse the proposal so at 8:30 in the morning we began taking shots of Vodka.
After several hours things began to get strange. At some point Adam Small and Matt Barber had shown up and brought food for us to grill and to join in on our Sunday ritual. I remember everyone eating except for Jordan. Maybe this is why he reached a level unachievable for the others.
When we came back inside from eating, Jordan had downed the next handle of Vodka by himself. When Slaughter saw us he screamed "LET'S GO!" We was very excited about something. I don't remember what, but he began chanting "ACN, ACN, ACN." (Slaughter's company that he works for). Apparently he had just landed a huge deal with them and wanted to celebrate. Individual party some call it. He started throwing handles against the wall and continued yelling "Let's go." Slaughter then disappeared to his room and brought out a huge piece of steel. How he carried it I have no idea. He started to spin in circles with the huge beam and it destroyed everything in its path. Matt Barber was instantly decapitated. There was blood sprayed all over the walls and everyone started to scramble. Dana picked up Barbie's (Matt Barber) head and ran with it. I ran into AJ's room, and AJ was taking a dumb with his door open. I am not sure where everyone else went, but I am guessing they died in Slaughter's ACN rage.
This is all I remember. I love these people.
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Story Plot (just a draft)
My name is Mickey Duhon and I was born and raised in Hill City, Kansas. I am currently a host in one of the 104 rooms in Menninger Clinic. Menninger Clinic is a psychiatric hospital based in Houston, Texas and I have lived the last one hundred and sixty three days here. I am here awaiting my execution for the murder of 137 innocent Vietnamese, 16 marines, the rape of 12 Vietnamese women, and smuggling thousands of pounds of heroin into Cambodia and Laos. During my time in the service I became a notorious drug lord, completely disregarding my duty as an United States Army Officer. I was a fucking genius, and this is my representation of what happened in Vietnam from 1967-1973.
As I have grown into an old man, I began to learn a lot more about myself. With my last fifteen hours slowly ticking down, I feel the need to express that I have suddenly learned more about myself in the last five days than I have in my entire life. Self-knowledge some call it. Maybe I am seeking forgiveness for the crimes I have committed. Maybe I fear God's judgment. Whatever it is, I am not proud of the things I have done. Nor am I disappointed. I did the things I did to survive. The number one human instinct.
I was not always an insensitive killer. When the United States entered the Vietnam War in 1964 I was only 17. I was desperate to join the Army and join the fighting with my two older brothers. My father was an educated man, and refused to sign my permission papers. He sent me to Texas A&M to study, but I eventually dropped out and entered the Army in '66. I shipped in 1967..............
I don't know this is just something I thought up of in like 5 mins at the end of class. It is very jumbled right now, but I think I will continue to work on this peice. I believe I have the ability to turn it into something special. I don't know why I put that middle paragraph in. I'm sure I'll end up moving it near the end once I conclude this bitch.
As I have grown into an old man, I began to learn a lot more about myself. With my last fifteen hours slowly ticking down, I feel the need to express that I have suddenly learned more about myself in the last five days than I have in my entire life. Self-knowledge some call it. Maybe I am seeking forgiveness for the crimes I have committed. Maybe I fear God's judgment. Whatever it is, I am not proud of the things I have done. Nor am I disappointed. I did the things I did to survive. The number one human instinct.
I was not always an insensitive killer. When the United States entered the Vietnam War in 1964 I was only 17. I was desperate to join the Army and join the fighting with my two older brothers. My father was an educated man, and refused to sign my permission papers. He sent me to Texas A&M to study, but I eventually dropped out and entered the Army in '66. I shipped in 1967..............
I don't know this is just something I thought up of in like 5 mins at the end of class. It is very jumbled right now, but I think I will continue to work on this peice. I believe I have the ability to turn it into something special. I don't know why I put that middle paragraph in. I'm sure I'll end up moving it near the end once I conclude this bitch.
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Defining Creative Non-fiction
In my class today (Creative Non-fiction) we were to partner up with another random classmate, and define creative non fiction. Once we agreed on our definition of creative non fiction we were to compare our commonalities and write a creative non fiction essay on them. These were the instructions of the assignment exactly as they were written on the board.
- Talk about yourselves
- Define creative non fiction
- Write an "essay"
This is what me and Hank Murry came up with.
Definition of creative non fiction: Taking factual information, and transforming that information into an interesting and engaging essay.
Here is our essay:
Hank Murry and Kelley Wyman have a variety of commonalities except that they were born and raised on opposite sides of the country. Whether Pacific or Atlantic they both share a love for the beach. While Hanks competitive days are behind him, Kelley is developing into a threat to breaststrokers across the nation. Both Hank and Kelley share an interest in Creative Fiction, but what really bonds the two together is their desire to go out and have a good time. While Hank has his fraternity brotherhood, Kelley shares a close brotherhood with the members of the Arizona Swimming and Diving team. Kelley's vehicle of choice is a 99' Honda Shadow motorcycle, while Hank occasionally cruises down the boardwalks of California on his Vespa Scooter. Kelley and Hank both left their luxurious beach lifestyles to come to the Wild West of America for an education.
The End.
Thoughts on Non-Fiction?
- Talk about yourselves
- Define creative non fiction
- Write an "essay"
This is what me and Hank Murry came up with.
Definition of creative non fiction: Taking factual information, and transforming that information into an interesting and engaging essay.
Here is our essay:
Hank Murry and Kelley Wyman have a variety of commonalities except that they were born and raised on opposite sides of the country. Whether Pacific or Atlantic they both share a love for the beach. While Hanks competitive days are behind him, Kelley is developing into a threat to breaststrokers across the nation. Both Hank and Kelley share an interest in Creative Fiction, but what really bonds the two together is their desire to go out and have a good time. While Hank has his fraternity brotherhood, Kelley shares a close brotherhood with the members of the Arizona Swimming and Diving team. Kelley's vehicle of choice is a 99' Honda Shadow motorcycle, while Hank occasionally cruises down the boardwalks of California on his Vespa Scooter. Kelley and Hank both left their luxurious beach lifestyles to come to the Wild West of America for an education.
The End.
Thoughts on Non-Fiction?
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Comparing Tragedies
First blog entry. Not sure how much I'll attend to this blog, but I just want to get some extra practice for my writing classes.
Today in my ENGL 210 (Creative Fiction) class we were told to write somethings that stuck out to us in this article. The article is about the tragic events of January 8th, 2011. The shooting that took place in a Safeway in Tucson, Arizona.
While reading the article I immediately thought that it was ironic that the shooting took place in a grocery story called SAFEway. Nothing of importance there, but perhaps interesting? Something that was interesting to me was how every individual is effected differently by a tragedy. I remember what I was doing when I heard about the shooting, and it sort of stunned me to think that everyone has their own story about where they were and what they were doing when a tragedy falls upon us. I'm sure all of you remember where you were when the first plane struck the first tower on September 11th, 2001. I was in the 6th grade, sitting in Mrs. Castollie's (spelling?) classroom watching the morning announcements. Suddenly, the anchor of the announcements directed all the teachers to change the channel to the local news station. For that entire day, my classmates and I sat around watching the events unfold before our very eyes. Similar to 9/11, I remember exactly what I was doing, and what I did after I received news of the Tucson Tragedy.
Agree/Disagree? Do you remember what you were doing and when?
Today in my ENGL 210 (Creative Fiction) class we were told to write somethings that stuck out to us in this article. The article is about the tragic events of January 8th, 2011. The shooting that took place in a Safeway in Tucson, Arizona.
While reading the article I immediately thought that it was ironic that the shooting took place in a grocery story called SAFEway. Nothing of importance there, but perhaps interesting? Something that was interesting to me was how every individual is effected differently by a tragedy. I remember what I was doing when I heard about the shooting, and it sort of stunned me to think that everyone has their own story about where they were and what they were doing when a tragedy falls upon us. I'm sure all of you remember where you were when the first plane struck the first tower on September 11th, 2001. I was in the 6th grade, sitting in Mrs. Castollie's (spelling?) classroom watching the morning announcements. Suddenly, the anchor of the announcements directed all the teachers to change the channel to the local news station. For that entire day, my classmates and I sat around watching the events unfold before our very eyes. Similar to 9/11, I remember exactly what I was doing, and what I did after I received news of the Tucson Tragedy.
Agree/Disagree? Do you remember what you were doing and when?
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