part 2

When our plan of escape was complete and the day of commencement had finally 
arrived, westuffed our sox with cheezits in the utter most 
secrecy and caution during our thirty-minute lunch period. It was time for
action and the bell of our mid-afternoon break sounded as we marched to its
beat as if we were off to battle. Meeting at our station in the sand, we
stuffed Sevy?s pockets with our rations of cheezits and issued forth into the
grass tundra, making sure not to look suspicious.
During the time spent on our camp, we had observed that the teachers on recess
duty were often too engaged in supervising the dangerous sport of dodge ball,
so their backs were often turned towards the fence and we were in the clear.
Proceeding with caution, we sprinted, running between the swing-set and the 
rainbow wall as the fence got closer and closer. Our school uniforms seemed
 destined to camouflage to that ivied fence, as we searched for the lock in the
gate to discover that the toothpicks we had. To our
surprise, the lock was purely for show to us jail breakers.
In contrast to his glasses, Sevy?s tiny frame squeezed perfectly between the
gates of the locked fence. Turning toward us, Sevy waved goodbye from the other
side and we responded in the same before edging our way back to camp. Sitting
once again in the sandbox surrounded by my fellow bureau rather than
accomplices, I remember feeling better about our victory than any little league game, which now seemed petty and frivolous.
        We never saw Sevy again. I remember returning from recess and Mrs. Denny
noticing one of her pupils absent following a series of many phone calls to and
from our classroom. As Mrs. Denny ran frantically back and forth from her wooden
chestnut desk that oddly matched her now frazzled hair, I sat proudly gleaming
in my chair. Two cop cars graced the parking lot of the pickup zone but 
after school tutoring retained me and my bureau from further
investigation as to the where abouts of Sevy Anton.
The day that Sevy and his little white paper bags did not come to school was the
day a change occurred in my lieutenant of a teacher. The harsh engraved lines on
her face now drooped with heavy eyes as if her own guilt was anchoring them to
the floor. That empty chair was so silent behind me, yet to Mrs. Denny it 
appeared to be a screaming reminder of her cruelty.

part 1

She haunted the students of her fifth grade classroom. We all lived in fear of our teacher on the days when her nicotine patches could not satiate her cravings. Even worse, were the Mondays and Wednesdays, when her diet coke and Slimfast shakes still made her stomach growl over the quiet of her classroom. Her inner frustrations with herself and her obvious weight issues seemed to fuel her anger with the innocent students that sat before her.
Ironically, the more she sought for control in her life, the more she lost her temper behind the closed doors of our classroom prison. She would take pleasure in marching down every tight-fitted row pinching the shoulders of the tiny soldiers beneath her, whom had strayed their gaze from their tedious cursive worksheets. Mrs. Denny clutched her standard 12-inch ruler by her side on her many marches down the isles, as if she held a gun in her belt locked, loaded, and ready to be fired at any perpetrators who dare disrupt her orders.
I will never forget Sevy, the boy who sat behind me everyday in the assigned seating chart. His oversized glasses buried his face, which often blushed when Mrs. Denny found time to embarrass him. Sevy suffered from a rare illness, where he had uncontrollable gag reflex issues that sometimes were so sever to the point of throw up. I had never met anyone with a sickness like Sevy’s and will never forget the regurgitating sounds that echoed in my ears. Mrs. Denny shared no pity or understanding and would grab Sevy by the sleeve removing him outside till his gag spells ended. Looking back, I think she was more repulsed by the idea of not being able to control the situation.
Two of my friends and I knew how upset Sevy would be to the point that hopscotch and dodgeball couldn’t heal his sad little heart from the constant infliction of embarrassment and harassment he received day after day during class. We would find him isolated in the sand box pretending to keep himself occupied to hold back the tears behind the large frames of his outsized lenses. We couldnt take it anymore, we had to act.
From that day forth the sandbox was no longer a playground, but a magically transformed super secret fort. With the sand serving as our blueprints to Sevy’s freedom, we devised an escape route beneath the very jungle gym of our school. Yonder the black asphalt lay what seemed to be an acre of grass and swing-sets stretching to a barrier of ivied fence separating us from the rest of the world. Mrs. Denny did not know it at the time, but her own assigned reading of the Secret Garden fueled our imaginations to infiltrate the inaccessible and get Sevy to the other side of that fence.

From that day forth the sandbox was no longer a playground, but a magically transformed super secret fort. With the sand serving as our blueprints to Sevy’s freedom, we devised an escape route beneath the very jungle gym of our school. Yonder the black asphalt lay what seemed to be an acre of grass and swing-sets stretching to a barrier of ivied fence separating us from the rest of the world. Mrs. Denny did not know it at the time, but her own assigned reading of the Secret Garden fueled our imaginations to infiltrate the inaccessible and get Sevy to the other side of that fence.
end of part 1

Pin Me Pay Me

I relish this part, it is pretty much the only part that makes me feel like a star. I worked for what sems to be many years in this business and during the the hard work and daily flights, you learn to relish the little. things. My music sounds and I approach the curtain. "God of Thunder?!" What the hell?! I asked for "Seek and Destroy!" You'd thing ring techs in the wrestling business would know the difference between Kiss and Metallica. Now my entrance is ruined. On national television for christ sake! First impressions are everything in this business and some fat, ponytailed bastard ruined mine. I break through the curtain arms raised in the air, as I am greeted with a chorus of boos. Good that was easier than I thought. I am a "heel" or in lamence terms, a bad guy, and getting heat is sometimes difficult. There's a difference between people hating your character and people hating you because you look like you dont know the difference betwen a wristlock and a wristwatch. I enter the ring and blow a few feigned snot shots into the crowd for added heat. I rest in my corner awaiting my opponent, or the guy Im supposed to make look good tonight. He breaks through the curtain, perfect music, perfect pyro. Someday Id love to have that happen to me. The crowd erupts and begins to chant his name as he steps through the rings ropes. I jump out of the ring as soon as he enters. This technique is great. Makes me look scared and adds more power to the champ. I step back in and approach the champ. He offers me a handshake. I put my hand out but instead drop to my knees and bring my forearm up between his legs. He drops to his knees as well holding his groin in pain, great opener, and now we are off. I get up and face the crowd laughing. The champ gets up and preforms a backdrop driving me onto the mat. I lie on my back grimacing. He then grabs me by the hair bringing me to my feet. He signals for his signature move, which is also my signal! He turns to face me then I poke him in the eye Stooges style! I hate it when this move is done on me, the pain he is feeling is real, another sacrifice for this business. I bounce of the ropes and lay him out with a clothesline. Being the coward that I am I exit the ring and grab a steel chair that "happens" to be under the ring apron. The crowd is really letting me have it now! I run in preparing to deliver to my foe a crushing blow that will surely end the match. As I enter the ring holding the chair the champ summons his strength from deep down and delivers a jumping roundhouse to the chair which in then connects with my face dropping me to the mat. As he appeals to the crowd to celebrate his "cunning" I reach into my wristband and pull out razorblade and make the small incision in my forehead. DAMN that stings. Not a big cut but the blood makes it look a lot worse than it actually is. I stumble to my feet and am immediately met with a diving suplex. 1, 2, 3! The champ gets his arm raised tonight. Good has vanquished evil and I head back into the backstage area holding my head and ducking food and beer being thrown at me. I take the proverbial "psycho shower" as the blood washes from me and goes down the drain. I cant help but feel each time that my years in this business are slowly going down the same drain as my blood.

New Writing

What was I to do. this was new to me and I had about zero clue how to proceed. I was just diagnosed a week ago. I walk into the dark crowded waiting room. its underground and lead lined so there was absolutely no way any light could have entered this room whatsoever. The whole fact that I was sick was still a very fresh thought for me. I didnt know what to think. I questioned if I even would be able to live to see my 20th birthday. I entered the cold dark room. I had to take my shrit off and lie on a cold slab it seemed like. I felt just how Frankenstein's monster felt. Did I mention it was really, really cold? I looked up at what looked like a giant flashlight combined with a dentist mirror. I sat there for about a half hour and felt a heating sensation on my upper chest. When it was over, I sat up, put my shirt on, and walked out of the room. "That was it?" I thought. I guess the whole procedure had not taken very long at all. I sat in the car, and was on my way back home, even before 11 o'clock. I was back to go to sleep and wake up with the rest of my siblings. I found myself thinking what to do next with myself. This was something I would have to get used to for the next few months. Same treatment every day, same time, same place. It wasnt long before I started to feel the effects of the radiation. First the part of the body that the radiation was being exposed to lost all of the hair covering it. I still haven't been able to re-grow hair in that spot to this day. I also started to feel a lot more tired than I used to be. I was told that I would feel all of these side effects but the tiresome part was a lot more extreme than I thought it would be. I literally did not want to do anything at all. I would wake up, and go back to bed. Even after the treament stopped the side effects would still continue for many months. They eventually went away as did my cancer as well. Radiation did the trick when it seemed to be usually on one of many tricks to other survivors as well I was very happy but I will never forget that long year of recovery that I had to go through on my way to better health. It was a very scary, yet humbling and interesting experience to say the least. It was not one that I would like to experience but is it weird to say that in a way, Im glad I did experience it? I can certainly say that I am not the same person I was when I started out on this road to recovery. I am wiser I believe and humbled. I have a second lease on life now. I look at things a lot more different than before and make sure every day to laugh and enjoy the little things.

Writer's Blog Reflection

My status as a writer right now would be very very muddled and concerned. I have given this class a very bumpy start to say the least. I believe it is more than possible to pull myself out of this slump that I have created for myself but so far I find that I am very frustrated with myself.

I have been using my writer's blog appropriately and innaporopriatelly it seems. I was confused at the length of each blog and to say I have kept up with the blog would be a complete lie.

Alone

The noises surround me
I feel nothing but everything at the same time.

Time goes by slowly here,
as the ground gets colder and colder.

My feet are bare,
I feel the fallen leaves crunch beneath me.

I look around me and I see nothing,
but at the same time more than I will see on a normal basis.

Answers For Stranger With A Camera

1. I believe the conflicts and themes of this documentary involved cultural differences and stereotypical perspectives. People dont want to be viewed as somehting they are not, especially if the view is a sterotype and a very unflattering one at that. The locals are viewed as hillbillys and hicks. The proposed documenting of this town was very worrisome to the townspeople and they feared that the documentary would only perpetuate the hillbilly stereotype. Unfortunately the actions of one would only make matters worse.

2. I believe that Barret wanted to present herself as elaborating on both possible perspectives with the events that transpired involving the murder. She has previous ties to the town but she wants to present why both parties could possibly be at fault in what led to the tragic event. She seems to be very aware of the crimes that were committed but she wants to also portray why the people of this town may have been provoked in a way and how they are misunderstood.

3. I believe at the end of the documentary I believe the community tells its own story. We get to hear a lot of perspectives and even though we still feel sorry for the man who was murdered we feel sorry for the community as a whole who got the bad rap due to one person's actions.

4. They differ drastically. The major media had a set idea of what Appalachia was like before they even went there it seems. I believe that since Barret has a better understanding of the culture that surrounds her she is able to properly portray Appalachia without the hick stereotypes.

New Post

I dont claim to have any knowledge of the meaning of life. Whatever it is, may be a question that will go on till the end of the world itself. But I do have my own interpretation on what the meaning of life means to me. I believe that if there is some sort of higher power watching over us, that he or she put us here to enjoy this world, and make the most out of our lives. To enjoy the little as well as the larger things. We are to live life with no regrets and enjoy thoroughly what has been given to us and what we awaits us in the future. I know it may be a very optimistic outlook but if that isn't the point of life, then I really dont know what is.

Once a year

Halloween season has once again and I must say that I am happy about this. Halloween is one of my favorite holidays if not my most favorite. This is time where I usually break out my extensive horror movie collection and just have marathon upon marathon of my favorite movies. I have loved horror movies since I was little. Especially the ones with the extensive backstories. I just finished a movie in which I have been waiting for years to finally find and watch. The movie was called, "Shadow Of The Vampire." I thoroughly enjoyed this movie and would recommend it to anyone. I love this time of year as everyone gets to let their mischevious sides run wild and let loose for a weekend of debauchery and all around naughtiness. Lord knows that I will be partaking this year... will you?