Old Poem/Writings

So after doing accomplishing somethings on my list which currently hangs on my desk ( fixing my resume, editing my placement essay, starting and reading breakthrough collaborative application/process, working on the NCE Website), I remembered I brought this collection of old poem/writing/sketches/drawing from home. There are like mostly from high school but some go back to '04 (oh wait that's when I started high school) so they're all like occurred in high school.

Let's just say some of my drawing was really incredible (should be above this one), but one thing that disappointed me was my poems-writings, like most started off good but then went bad, like real bad. some were like really extreme, like I hated a person, (I wrote the words I hate you). which I don't remember why i felt that way, but I was really scary while reading it.

But anyways I decided to post some of my favorite good poem-writings this here blog. I did have to fix some of them, like I can guess what I wanted to say, but it's not exactly what I wrote, I guess I'll put those in [].
Also if ya can, read these aloud, I think it helps.
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1.
my time has expired
the clock has stopped
there is no more sound of the "tick-tock"

the sun has went down
and will never rise again
flowers [have] die[d] and ferociously [been] blown by the wind

heart beats are gone
pulses are no more
the blood [has] stop flowing; life is a bore

the earth has stop rotating
and everything stands dead-still
yet, my glass is half-filled
through it all.

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2.
I am
what I be
and forever I'll be that
I'll always be the I
that sometimes changes
to u but u don't define
me, or I for that matter.
'cause I am
whatever I want to be
and that will never change
I'll always be me when
u and them sometimes say
no to I, or me for that matter
I'm here to show I'm
forever eternally, always
the person I am which is me.

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3.

I wonder and think
everyday: What if the sky was pink?
or What if people were small?
like ants. And the ants would be tall.
Would the [world] change as we know it?
Or would humans be the same ?
There's no way I could possibly get,
Get [an] answer for this game
Cuz I think I'm way too lame.
I think my parents r the ones to blame.

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4. 

I'm cool
Ur cool
We're cool
Isn't that cool?
Or is that not cool enough?
Am I cool enough?
R u cool enough?
Is that enough?
Enough for this poem?
Is this the end of [the] poem?
or just the beginning of the poem?
Ok, no more poem.
B-cuz I'm cool.
Ur cool
We're cool
Isn't that cool?
Isn't it..........

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5.

If today is new and
yesterday is old. And if today
is a continuation of yesterday
is today really new?
so wouldn't we call it
just a day?
-Words of Wisdom from a Wise person

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6.

Three-hundred sixty-five days times nineteen years equals six thousand eight-hundred fifty-five days that I have wondered and journey[ed] to become me, but only in the last ninety-one days [have I] lost it and [now I am] searching again, and [I] just can't seem to tap back into the way I felt, the [way] I was. But now as a new three-hundred and sixty-five days approach, labelled as two-thousand and eight, I will continue to search until me is found and I can start whole again: One hundred percent; three-hundred sixty degrees, two-pi radians. Hopefully one day.

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Oh 6 favorites, Lucky number 6.
that's it.
PEACE & CHICKEN GREASE!

Cleaning out my closet......

I Cleant (<-- is that a word?) my room, (my mom was making everyone throw stuff away that we're not using anymore...which kinda annoyed me...)
good thing I found interesting things in my closet and such:

old story i'd written in 7th grade "my brand new home": it was about me (well not me but a character, who was essentially me. I didn't give the character a name which make me even more conclude that it was supposed to represent me). and the character moves to a city called burbank and is scared about moving to a new place basically (he has dreams where everyone in burbank are monsters, idk). it was kool to just read a story I had written, no matter the blatant grammatical errors and weird writing.

It just got me thinking (here's the teacher in me analzying the student) about myself. Like why would I write a story like this, like certain parts were defintely me, but other's weren't, was that what I wanted to be. i'm not really sure. Junior high is all a blur I guess....

Bop it extreme, remote possibilities: it's like looking at an old picture. these game brought up memories of just fun with my family. And how I have so many games i don't play with anymore.


box of cards called history of america: bascially it like a box of cards (duh). with different topics about American history. It Ranges from wars, entertainment, people, places. And I think this was just example of how I wanted to learn things at a young age. It also shows why I know so much random stuff day. I know It's not a total miracle that I'm a genius (so people say). Like there was things that defintely propelled me.

As you can see, finding this things in my closet & elsewhere, just got me thinking about my childhood (and how freaking old I am!). I mean I had a good one, and I'm thankful for it.
yeha......memories......

PEACE & CHICKEN GREASE!!

a REAL poem..

so wrote this late the another night...
don't do this often, I believe it had to be inspiration
from the muses or something
check it out
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
Reality---
I cannot see,
Through the wall that stands in front of me.
the memories that so penetrate my mind
each and every time I think of reality:
what is real, what real ain't.
what I see is just a fake,
copy, image duplicated
but not replicated,
highly dictated reality imitated.
spacious glow surrounds my view
intuitively, I always knew
that reality was past due
my reality was untrue.
deeply rooted thoughts
bounded by penniless costs
often seamlessly lost
are often bought
in reality.

reality--- I cannot see
the reality which lies in front of me
blocked by the world of eternity,
will forever be,
an unreal, unfulfilled miserable fantasy
unparalleled in all despair unknown
unupheld in dignity alone
so unreal, so unconcealed,
yet so hard to view
so touched, so loved,
yet hated so
yes, this is reality
the reality you so seek,
but you shall not find
the reality you so plead,
but you shall bind
yourself forever in your unreality
because that is the only reality you see.
And that reality is me.