Wednesday, August 31, 2011
Busybusybusy...
Today I work a six to midnight shift, it’s my training shift for closing so hopefully it goes well cause I have two closing shifts next week. Tomorrow I get to chill with my buddy and cuddle up and watch f.r.i.e.n.d.s. and I’m really hoping it doesn’t get cancelled cause I bought the perfect shirt to wear and everything. Friday I’ll be getting up early and driving to my Douglas College campus to make sure I know where my classes are and purchase my books and school clothing. After that I get to drive back and chill with my friend Bronwyn and have our own little henna party, I finally got this shit in the mail so I can get going on my temporary tattoos. I’ll have to wear blue latex clothes for a few days at work but that’s alright cause it’s a small price to pay to be temporarily inked. I finally got my humpback whale in the mail as well so that’s posted on my wall now and makes me quite proud. I’ll be working the weekend with a 930-6pm on Saturday and a 4-8pm on Sunday which sounds good to me. Than I’ll be starting school on Tuesday and working Wednesday through till Friday. It’s busy right now but these upcoming paychecks will hopefully put a good dent in my car insurance savings plan. I have to get new earrings that can permanently stay in so that I don’t have to take out 7 piercings whenever I have a shift, my piercings are very important to me and I have 2 more I’ll be getting soon so I need to solve this problem fast. Anywho, the weather seems to be keeping up, work is busy and school is very soon. It’s alot to take in at the moment but maybe I’ll find time to take a deep breath and let it all sink in.
Now everything’s faded, as I walk through the past blind.
Emma: I'm sorry things didn't work out, I wish we could have been friends but you were too damn selfish to understand how much I depended on you. How you weren't there when I was at my worst. You made a choice for the both of us and you tried blaming me for it. Your wrong to think of it as fair because it was far from, I've really been needing you lately but you were gone a long time ago. I miss your house, your mom, your brothers. I miss falling asleep on the couch all the time and cuddling up on your bed to watch movies. I miss sharing clothes and being crazy together. You were one of the most important people I've ever met, one of the greatest friends I could ever ask for. I'm glad your happy with your boyfriend, but I know I don't belong in your life anymore because of that.
Chris: You obviously don't know what it means to have a girlfriend, it means sacrifice and compromise, not because you have to but because you want to. You should have wanted to sit beside me at Graduation instead of leaving me in the dark and running off to your friends. You never let me know that you were doubting us, all the while I was picturing our Summer together. I shouldn't have had to walk a town over in flip flops to get dumped on your doorstep a week before Grad because you didn't want a commitment any longer. I hope your next girlfriend crushes you, in a way you'll never forget. I still miss you but it's easier when I don't see you. I don't know if I could ever truly hate you but I try to. I suppose your just meant for some happy-go-lucky girl that never has bad news to tell you, I guess I'm just the devil to you. Sorry I upset you.
Itay: You motherfucker, really? I knew you for 5years, we were in love and than became successful bestfriends and you stopped hanging out with me in the blink of an eye because somebody fucking told you to? You are such an asshole. I hope you regret it, I hope something happens and you wish you could come to me for it. I really hope you realize this was a big mistake.
Jessica: Bitch. You are a lying, unjustified little dink. You have no right to take people out of my life just because you don't have the backbone to tell me what you truly think. I'm glad your leaving this town, I don't ever wanna see you again. We used to be tight and I used to tell you everything and I even started to believe that you weren't saying anything behind my back at some-point. However, you were always saying shit behind my back cause if you didn't have the backbone to say so, you obviously didn't have it in you to stand up for me. Your a liar, and that's all I think of you.
Erin: I can't even believe a word you say anymore and although you were there for some important things you also stood by as girls gossiped about me and you agreed. Thanks bud. I obviously can't trust a word you say anymore and because of that I've simply shoved you out of my life. I'm sorry but our friendship is fried. We've both changed and it doesn't mix. Thanks for being there, and at one point you were the only one, but I just can't pretend anymore.
Haley: In all honesty, I only ever missed you. I was only ever mad because all I wanted to do was walk to 7-11, play Nazi Zombies and have sleepovers every now and than with you. I just missed what we used to have. We were really tight bestfriends for awhile there and then you went out to parties and denied me when I planned to hangout with you. I don't blame you for everything and I know it was my fault too but somewhere in all those cancelled plans I stopped trusting you and I can't keep pretending our friendship it still there like it used to be. I wish it was different but trust takes years to yearn and seconds to break.
*****
It's never easy saying goodbye and as hard as it is being so alone, I know none of these relationships could be repaired. They would never try that hard to keep me in their lives, and I probably wouldn't let them anyway.
Chris: You obviously don't know what it means to have a girlfriend, it means sacrifice and compromise, not because you have to but because you want to. You should have wanted to sit beside me at Graduation instead of leaving me in the dark and running off to your friends. You never let me know that you were doubting us, all the while I was picturing our Summer together. I shouldn't have had to walk a town over in flip flops to get dumped on your doorstep a week before Grad because you didn't want a commitment any longer. I hope your next girlfriend crushes you, in a way you'll never forget. I still miss you but it's easier when I don't see you. I don't know if I could ever truly hate you but I try to. I suppose your just meant for some happy-go-lucky girl that never has bad news to tell you, I guess I'm just the devil to you. Sorry I upset you.
Itay: You motherfucker, really? I knew you for 5years, we were in love and than became successful bestfriends and you stopped hanging out with me in the blink of an eye because somebody fucking told you to? You are such an asshole. I hope you regret it, I hope something happens and you wish you could come to me for it. I really hope you realize this was a big mistake.
Jessica: Bitch. You are a lying, unjustified little dink. You have no right to take people out of my life just because you don't have the backbone to tell me what you truly think. I'm glad your leaving this town, I don't ever wanna see you again. We used to be tight and I used to tell you everything and I even started to believe that you weren't saying anything behind my back at some-point. However, you were always saying shit behind my back cause if you didn't have the backbone to say so, you obviously didn't have it in you to stand up for me. Your a liar, and that's all I think of you.
Erin: I can't even believe a word you say anymore and although you were there for some important things you also stood by as girls gossiped about me and you agreed. Thanks bud. I obviously can't trust a word you say anymore and because of that I've simply shoved you out of my life. I'm sorry but our friendship is fried. We've both changed and it doesn't mix. Thanks for being there, and at one point you were the only one, but I just can't pretend anymore.
Haley: In all honesty, I only ever missed you. I was only ever mad because all I wanted to do was walk to 7-11, play Nazi Zombies and have sleepovers every now and than with you. I just missed what we used to have. We were really tight bestfriends for awhile there and then you went out to parties and denied me when I planned to hangout with you. I don't blame you for everything and I know it was my fault too but somewhere in all those cancelled plans I stopped trusting you and I can't keep pretending our friendship it still there like it used to be. I wish it was different but trust takes years to yearn and seconds to break.
*****
It's never easy saying goodbye and as hard as it is being so alone, I know none of these relationships could be repaired. They would never try that hard to keep me in their lives, and I probably wouldn't let them anyway.
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
It always feels better once you arrive.
Today I work from 2-8pm and still pretty damn tired from my 8hour yesterday, and it doesn’t matter cause I work 6-midnight tomorrow. Fuck. my. life. I mean, this is exactly what I wanted, a nice job, nice people, good pay and lots of shifts, but it’s hard to get used to something you haven’t done in 8months. At my last job I never got this many shifts and since I haven’t worked since New Years Eve, not for lack of trying, it’s taking it’s toll on me. My body aches, and since it usually does every morning with a headache and backache it’s not getting any easier. I love my work uniform and everybody I work with are complete sweethearts so I can push through with some help but than I come back home and it’s just depressing. I need somebody, a new friend I can share it all with, but I guess I still don’t wanna speak. Instead, I’ll work and work and work my 40hours this week and continue with my 30 or so hours next week. School starts soon which means balancing the two and having even less free time but maybe somewhere in there I’ll find time to trust somebody. You just never know what’s gonna happen these days, but for now, I’ll just keep to myself and continue looking forward to Thursday.
I've never had such a good perspective about my job.
Already worked my ass off yesterday and still sore and everything but this morning I woke up and chilled in sweats and watched f.r.i.e.n.d.s. and than showered, got all dolled up, put my hair up and got into uniform. I know I have to work, I know that it’s my responsibility, and I know I’ll get a fat paycheck at the end of it. I have a better outlook in the fact where I ain’t stressing about it as much as I used to in my last job. I have a friend and nice people and I have to do what I have to do. It’s just a good outlook, takes off stress even though my shoulders are still being held down. I feel more professional at this job, where I’m actually trying to look pretty. I love my work shirt they gave me, the pants I bought and the shoes need gel pads but they are still work shoes. I’m just proud, I’m proud to work at Safeway and actually have to drive over the bridge like everybody else to get there. Since lately I’ve felt very independent and on my own, I suppose it feels good to go to a place where everybody needs me. I’m actually apart of a team this time, we actually have each-other’s backs and It makes me want to work harder. This is a job I’m proud to have, really proud to have. I’m so happy that when I was drinking and picked up the phone I decided “why not” it’s really not that far. I never thought I’d get it when I applied but I did, and holy, I think this is all I really needed after all. Well, most of. Yesterday I was chilling in the lunchroom with Nichelle on break and this guy came up to us and said that we looked alike and we talked for a bit and than he simple said “welcome to the team” and I can only picture the smile on my face because I’ve waited years for anybody to say that to me. I have ALWAYS wanted to be a part of a team. It’s only Safeway but there is so much more involved in that place than the naked eye can see. It’s a beautiful place.
Monday, August 29, 2011
My first 8hour at Safeway...
at first I was laughing and smiling, than I was humming and singing, than I just wanted go home. -__-
Monday starts my 40hour week... -__-
I woke up 15minutes late, only to get ready 30min early. I have horrible cramps, a bad headache, and I’m sore all over. This. is. going to be. a. long. shift. However I do work with Nichelle today so maybe we can take our breaks together and talk about work cause that would take a load off, and also, I made a sweet lunch of crackers and cheese, blueberries, pudding, and an apple. Decent work I must say. I work till 7pm so although it’s an 8hour shift I’m really not home too late so I can come back and enjoy some popcorn and television. Tomorrow I work a 2-8pm shift which is still not that bad and 6hours is always a good shift, Wednesday it’s a 6-midnight shift which I’ll have to get used to for when I go back to school so I’m fairly interested to see what that’s all about. Anywho, it’s mostly about the money and 40hours from Monday - Sunday will get me a damn good paycheck.
Sunday, August 28, 2011
Time to enjoy the pool before starting work again tomorrow.
40hours from Monday-Sunday. This is gonna be good.
I don’t even know what to believe anymore.
I feel this massive gap between me and everybody else and maybe I just want so badly for somebody to walk through that gap as if it’s a gate that I mesh between reality and my own made-up world. I’m so lost out here, I don’t even know what to believe anymore.
People will never understand me because nobody takes the time to really listen. Listen to everything that’s not being said. Listen to everything blurred between sarcasm and blunt comments. Listen without comparison, judgment, or fowl play. Nobody will ever fully understand me because nobody is human enough to ask.
Saturday, August 27, 2011
At work, I honestly don’t feel like I’m alone or that I’m judged.
I walk into work with all my confidence and do the best I can. I get embarrassed and I mess orders up and tend to drop things but I know somebody has my back. I'm apart of a team of people that actually care what I'm doing and if I need any help. I have these people asking me how I feel and where I'm going to school and they are actually quite sincere about it. These "grown-ups" they actually understand. They are patient and they know that it's my first week and I have no idea how shit's supposed to go but they don't care. They are happy to have a worker to replace the people that quit and they love my personality, these are some of the nicest people I have ever met. This is the kinda place I need, this is the kinda place I belong. I don't feel threatened, I don't feel alone, I don't feel like an outcast, I just blend in and do the best I can. I'm happy to be me and also apart of this team, I have Nichelle and like ten other people just doing their job. It's beautiful. I feel at home at Safeway, just comfortable and respected. I'm really happy I got this job, although it's non-stop all day and sometimes it's quite embarrassing when I can't find something, I do think this was one of the best choices I've ever made.
Friday, August 26, 2011
I don’t have the “right” words to explain these chaotic meanings.
Well, I can say that I’m tired now without it just being some excuse or to explain something other than sleep deprivation. I’ve only worked two shifts so far but I’ve been out of work since New Years Eve and it’s going to take some getting used to. I have today off and still had to get up early for a Chiropractic appointment at 11am. I’ll be working tomorrow, day off, than Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday. I really want to enjoy my job so I’m trying my best to think of the paychecks, as in, I have to work for my money and this is as good as it’s gonna get. Nice people, clean environment, organized and lots of shifts. I already have a friend and I will get trained properly so when I do start solo it’s not going to be scary or anything to be embarrassed about. Lately all I really think about is what I want to purchase with the money I’ll be getting, I suppose it’s just a way of self-medicating with everything going on. And when I say “with everything going on” I’m talking about my Grandma going on her 12th day with little signs of waking up in the hospital, dealing with all the recent goodbyes in my head and still missing people from time to time that walked away months ago. School starts in a few weeks and since it’s just been me for so long, going through day by day and dealing with everything as if I’m completely alone I can’t see it going to badly. Considering I’m perfectly capable of walking in there alone and taking it on face to face, I hope I can manage some decent grades. Work, is all I’m really focusing on. There is just so much more I can do, so many ways I can treat myself. If there is one thing I learned from Emma, it’s that you need to find time for yourself and indulge every now and than. This has been working for me, just finding times to paint my nails or moisturize my legs while listening to music and taking hours on the weekend to get ready. It’s just a matter of taking your time, just a matter of praising yourself.
Thursday, August 25, 2011
I’m tired just looking at my schedule.
Saturday: 11-3pm
Monday: 1030-7pm
Tuesday: 2-8pm
Wednesday: 6-midnight
Saturday: 930-6pm
Sunday: 4-8pm
Tuesday: 4-10pm
Wednesday: 4-10pm
Thursday: 6-midnight
Friday: 6-midnight
DA FUCK, 30hour weeks? :O
…. This is gonna be like a $500 paycheck. BINGO BABY!
Monday: 1030-7pm
Tuesday: 2-8pm
Wednesday: 6-midnight
Saturday: 930-6pm
Sunday: 4-8pm
Tuesday: 4-10pm
Wednesday: 4-10pm
Thursday: 6-midnight
Friday: 6-midnight
DA FUCK, 30hour weeks? :O
…. This is gonna be like a $500 paycheck. BINGO BABY!
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
IT'S THE GOOD LIFE, BOW CHICKA WOW WOW.
Well tomorrow I’ll be up at 7AM to get all ready and drive out to work for 9AM, the awesome chick Maria will be training my new friend I some more. It’s only a 4hour shift but when it comes to training, the 6hour today nearly killed me I was so bored. I’ll be done by 1PM and than have the entire day so I mean, this is kill. I love the uniform I get to wear, especially cause I don’t have to wear a hat and my last job I totally did and it just ruined it. No matter what make-up you wore or whatever your hair looked like I was not nearly as confident as I am walking into the doors of Safeway. I love the co-workers I have met so far and the management seems kill, it’s such a sick job! This chick, Nichelle, is my age and everything and we get to train and get used to the Deli Department together and that just makes my world go round. Stoked for tomorrow, stoked for my first paycheck, still waiting on my whale and henna to come in the mail so still stoked for that and, although I’m in physical pain and people keep forgetting to invite me places I’m having the time of my life. I think I’m the kind of girl who needs responsibility, to feel like she should be somewhere at a certain time, I just really needed a job instead of sitting around thinking about everything that’s going on. It’s my escape from this life and I’m getting paid to be there, I really hope this feeling sticks cause Safeway could really be a turning curve. Next week I’ll be going to Douglas College cause I was forgotten lol but my mom is going to take me and we’re getting all my books and clothes and it’s gonna be awesome!
This is reality, this is life.
I finally understand how dire it is to be yourself and stand alone in that. I finally understand how crucial it is that we all lead our own lives, however lonely that road may be. I finally understand why I was put through so many goodbyes, because they were never good enough for me. It’s obvious that those people didn’t belong in my life. I deserved better from them and they never met me halfway. I have only become stronger since than and determined how strong I can really be. I am so much better off today than I was a few years ago, I was in the wrong place than, but today my feet are firmly planted and I realize what I have to do. I’ll only get stronger from here because I now trust myself to be there and that’s all I ever needed. I’m alot stronger than I thought and it’s amazing when you find out what your potential actually is. This is reality, this is life.
Bruno !
This is my massive teddy bear named Bruno and fuck I can’t tell you how many times I have fallen asleep in his lap lol. He is the best thing ever, my favorite Christmas gift I think I have ever received and I’ll never be to old for him cause he’ll always be a massive fucking teddy bear and that never gets old. I fucking love him to bits. Teddy bear love! xoxoxo
Rocked the first day of work? Fuck yes!
I arrived early and met this other chick that was there for training/orientation as well. She was very nice, laughed at my jokes and just happens to be my age and going into the Deli Department as well. I am so happy that I’ll have a buddy through all this shit. We went to lunch together and everything and helped eachother through all the questions and shit. We make a good team. I’ll have no problem getting my requested holidays off for when I go to Honolulu cause it’s in February and every single person I met there was fucking nice. I can’t believe how nice everybody was, I love Safeway! This girl Maria who was training us reminded me of my favorite person at my old job and this is just lookin’ good. They say Deli is one of the busiest departments and I’m really looking forward to being overloaded with customers because although tiring, it makes your shift fly by and gives you a purpose and people depend on you to be there. It’s a challenge and I’ve been needing one of those. Having to wear business pants and these cute flats and a white blouse, and driving to work feeling absolutely gorgeous in what I’m wearing and knowing that my co-workers like me, fuck, I feel better already. I cannot wait for my first paycheck and to save up for what I’ve been dying to get! I get the feeling I’m going to enjoy this new job, and when school starts, hopefully it only gets better! Ohh life is a beautiful thing when you have responsibilities.
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
Till the day he dies.
You spit out these lies as if you’ll get given a nobel prize while all this shit you despise is just another disguise cause your dick’s no bigger than two fries. You need a better compromise than roaming around and fucking doll’s eyes, your starving of supplies but begging would be quite unwise. Your life is going down like a pint-sized chastise and there won’t be any give rise other than sweet goodbyes. Atleast the flies will enjoy eating away at your decaying thighs when all your lies are broken down meat flesh buried down in Marseilles. Oh how it would be such an apprise to upsize and sensationalize your worldly demise.
If there is anything I have learned from highschool, it's that you have to live for yourself.
There are far too many people with far too many opinions for you to actually claim a sincere relationship between all of them. You can’t wander through the hallways and aim for fame when your lab partner can’t even remember your last name. It’s all just one big game to find somebody else to blame and it’s gotten to be quite lame. The frame of our highschool photo will go down as one big flame and turn to ash all the same. It’s just so full of shame, all these memories they took to maim, tame and re-name like the numbered jerseys at a superficial ballgame. We all came and went just the same to acquire everything we’d need to purchase our own domain. What a shame that we’d all come to proclaim and take aim at these rumors and doubt. We should all just create one big pen name and call it fake, because each individual given name will never end up in the hall of fame. Our highschool names should be defamed because they are nowhere close to being the same dame in the game we play today.
Monday, August 22, 2011
I hate wanting things, It just makes me feel so small.
As if I’m the size of a fucking baseball, the smallest kid in the bar brawl or the idiot on the other end of a prank call. As if I was too late to the music hall and couldn’t make an appearance at the curtain call. It’s as if I’m forced to crawl up to city hall just to deliver a stupid gum ball. I was never tall and never had my name written on a parking stall but this shouldn’t make me feel so damn small. Put my face to the wall and pound it till I crack and fall. I feel as if I’ll start to bawl if I’m thrown another curve ball.
I can’t get you outta my mind.
So I have this crush and he makes me blush and than I get overwhelmed with this rush. I can’t even brush my hair without a gush of despair. I mean how could I prevent the hush of his name in my mind? He’s like a gold rush of this romantic mush I wish I could lay down like a straight flush.
Distrusted politics.
This world is full of such a system, with each living thing like a symptom trying to deliver pieces of information in this delectable prism. When the truth is it’s just another kingdom with no income. We are all just sloppy pilgrims delivered this serum to replace our opinions with a theorem. There exists no rhythm that is only wisdom, they are all fearsome and proven victim. This dictum is so hidden by the government that it makes me sick, the only ism is the one they force us to think from.
Sunday, August 21, 2011
A feather paints the picture of the trust we all fail to believe in.
Feathers symbolize so many things like tender texture, calm temper, the obsessed collector, or just a bird under the weather. A feather is soft, delicate, and aware. It speaks of the smooth truth and the critically ignored youth, It’s like a wisdom tooth for anybody willing to pick it up and soothe. A feather is so innocent and free, it’s the faith we all fail to see. A feather is like the pope giving us a mini speech on how to acquire hope, it’s as if we treat it like a tight rope when it’s meant to be lathered on like soft soap. It’s like all of us that are human treat life as if we’re Truman and can’t distinguish what it is we should label inhuman. Between real and fake, raw and proven, lies and the truth and the truth buried in the lies nothings ever deemed superhuman. The injustice of the rare occurring hope is like a backache that you can’t escape, something so fake you wish you could cut it’s head off like a snake. I might not be able to rap like Drake but for goodness sake this shits gonna get destroyed like an earthquake. It’s an easy remake to partake in a retake to generalize hope into this massive give and forsake instead of a double take. It’s no mistake that we are blind to see this gorgeous piece of cake, this plate of faith that could cure this world of hunger like a swiss steak. It’s time to bake away this artificial impostor of lies and manipulate the hope back into next morning’s sunrise.
Let’s talk about sex baby.
Sex is just one giant tyrannosaurus rex in the room where nobody respects, rejects, or reflects on the subjects of that particular scenario. As if the effects of your penis mean nothing to the “objects” you subject to the perplex of your misread charming complex. As if woman are only suspects roaming around this megaplex until you fedex your next victim. As if they all need to double check their bottle of vex to ensure safety as it’s poured within their necks. Total wrecks passed out between decks as their two pairs of specs lay cracked on the ground. Your plan ejects as you recollect yourself and your aspects. This triplex was only for projects and they were now doomed to heck. The pecks he flexed and the cheques he kept were now nothing in comparison for his adrenal cortex. This was just a looming vortex that wouldn’t end till dawn.
Sinful confession; judged.
Dust and rust are full of disgust, easy to understand. However, how do you think mistrust would taste? Something so unjust would probably be robust like that burnt crust at breakfast you won’t even adjust. How about the act of a thrust or the deadly sin known as lust? Would the act of using physical pain cause you to combust or is this just causing a lack of trust? I feel this is something that needs to be discussed so it doesn’t just get kicked up into a gust of forgotten.
Saturday, August 20, 2011
This life, these broken dreams, and those fake memories.
It’s nearly impossible to speak every confession we feel on a daily basis, even with all these machines asking us everyday to make an objection. All these networking sites poking and grabbing at us as if we’re all celebrities just lookin’ for some attention when really it’s all about the affection. It’s like infection posing as a gravitational pull to lead us to one another, a simple, quite lull so we can start a connection and kick it off with an erection. We are so full of complexion, introspection, and recollection just aiming at a projection of something close to perfection so that we can join in a change of direction that we sometimes forget to take part in a reflection of all the things along the way. We deem the strings wrapped around the tacks on the map collection as some kind of defection or disconnection. As if each intersection wasn’t a clue about our journey or a historic fact for our mental rejection. As if we’re all afraid we don’t have enough circumspection, and feel the detection of protection lacking. When Kanye is famous for an interruption and Jon and Kate for a family corruption. How are we to still follow instruction? Where is the gravitational pull when we can longer function? Who will we be after an hour of detention or a year in a mental institution? If Obama didn’t have the right to an election and judges the right to ejection, our world would no longer be the same stamp collection if this pull was just a mislead intervention. We need a better suggestion to cause a suppression of all things horrible in the act of digestion. This is my contention of aggression to sustain something beyond conception.
Friday, August 19, 2011
Little piece of the past.
Love is a song
Written to belong
Between two people
With enough passion to write a sequel
by Megan Lizee
Written to belong
Between two people
With enough passion to write a sequel
by Megan Lizee
What a simple touch of God can grace us with is remarkable.
I woke up this morning at 630AM after only sleeping for about two hours and it’s just magnificent. I woke up to chills as a morning fog pranced across the yards from right to left before I stepped out my door to witness the astounding sun creep up behind the trees and reflect through them in beautiful spaces of delight. The fog dissipated, dawn was singing to the melody of the birds. Morning dew still moistened the tall, green blades of grass in the front yards and in the private plains behind the neighbors houses. As it dripped off railings and formed small puddles on the cars and wept down windshields, I was overwhelmed with this feeling of calm faith. This feeling that everything was going to be alright, the feeling that someday I would witness this from an apartment building as my fiance continued indulging himself in rest. Life is fucking gorgeous, magnificent, breathtaking, mysterious and oh so fucking satisfying. Thank you for allowing me this much needed connection with the dawn. I needed a reason to wake up.
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
Surreal; my favorite word.
Life is magical, it really is full of so many things that we are too blind to see. We are blinded by what we think we deserve, how we see ourselves, what people say about us, what we think we see in the mirror, our job position, our bank account numbers, and the dumbfounded looks on our faces when something embarrassing gets brought up in a conversation. We are blinded by reality and at a certain age we stop daring to dream. We are blinded by what people tell us is real or fake. We are blinded by our parents decisions and what they think is right and sometimes it clouds our judgment at such a young age. We are so blind, and still we have this saying “an eye for an eye” when in reality it won’t change the rarity of vision. We fail to open our eyes and really see something for what it is and than we get crushed as if we were never told. In my reality, life is always beautiful, because even when your drawn to tears, it only makes you feel that much more alive. The moments you laugh so hard you can’t catch your breath reminds you that you are still breathing, that life is amazing. When you cry yourself to sleep you realize how grateful you are for the sunrise in the morning as you warm up after a cold night. We realize these beautiful things only after we have wandered our broken legs through the dark. Life is beautiful though, because almost always we find our way back to the light. We find our way back home again, and this occurs until it’s forever permanent. Life is in the journey home, it always was and it will continue this way until everybody is at peace. There will always be beauty to be found in this chaotic world of twisted dreams and random endeavors, always.
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
I can't wait to live out my own personal heaven.
I’m not sure how everything is supposed to pan out but I think that one day it will eventually unravel itself and reveal something quite stunning, something breathtakingly beautiful. One day everything is going to sparkle at night and it won’t be the sad twinkle of a tear forming in my eye. One day everything is going to be peaceful, it’s going to be rested below concrete layers of laughter and love. It’s all going to be steady breathing unless I’m bringing a child into this world, it’ll be calm, creative, condensed into meaningful memories and cuddling up at night to ensure warmth. I can’t wait for the day I have a husband sitting on the couch next to me holding my hand. Holding my hand so I can stroke the ring that means “forever” through the law and stupid papers, the ring that stands for the promises he made to me and the dedication he wishes to continue. The ring that symbolizes the magic two people can share, the secret two people can live out together, and the love that one cannot see but strongly feel. A ring to be worn out of gold, out of will, passion, desire and want. A ring to be worn at all times to ensure the best for their wish, their dream. Someday, a man will wear a ring to symbolize his love for me, and I will never forget to remind him how much I love him every.single.day. I can’t wait to live out my own personal heaven.
Skin By Sixx:A.M.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YeKjwd7DQSI
This song is so fucking beautiful, the exact words I needed to hear after making hard choices with friends. It’s just much too difficult to pretend and it’s time to move on. I hold on so tightly to people and it only ends up destroying the both of us. This song just plays to the beat of my heart, within everything I hide; truth. These lyrics are the secrets I carry and the melody of pain inflicted upon open wounds. Life is difficult, life is rough, sometimes unbearable, and this song is just the realistic comfort that you need to find your inner strength and run with it. You are the way you are for a reason, you have more to offer then naked pairs of eyes that judge you each and everyday. You need to understand that your worth it, that you deserve better, this song is just that extra push telling everybody that it’s in your hands to change your life for the better. You can wait for everything to work out or you can make the hard choices, bury the pain, and move the fuck on. It’s not easy, nothing is ever easy, but my god when something haunts you everyday you have to learn to say goodbye and shake it off. That’s just a part of life, that sometimes you have to go about it alone, and nothing is ever easy when it’s just you. This song is strength, it’s power, it’s confidence, it’s the bliss at the end of those long nights filled with tears. It’s hope.
This song is so fucking beautiful, the exact words I needed to hear after making hard choices with friends. It’s just much too difficult to pretend and it’s time to move on. I hold on so tightly to people and it only ends up destroying the both of us. This song just plays to the beat of my heart, within everything I hide; truth. These lyrics are the secrets I carry and the melody of pain inflicted upon open wounds. Life is difficult, life is rough, sometimes unbearable, and this song is just the realistic comfort that you need to find your inner strength and run with it. You are the way you are for a reason, you have more to offer then naked pairs of eyes that judge you each and everyday. You need to understand that your worth it, that you deserve better, this song is just that extra push telling everybody that it’s in your hands to change your life for the better. You can wait for everything to work out or you can make the hard choices, bury the pain, and move the fuck on. It’s not easy, nothing is ever easy, but my god when something haunts you everyday you have to learn to say goodbye and shake it off. That’s just a part of life, that sometimes you have to go about it alone, and nothing is ever easy when it’s just you. This song is strength, it’s power, it’s confidence, it’s the bliss at the end of those long nights filled with tears. It’s hope.
The magic of being strong is that no matter what you have to pull through, you always get the better life.
Well… I ROCKED MY INTERVIEW LIKE A BOSS! Fucking rights bitchezzz, she said they have 2 of the 3 people for Starbucks and might not work with school cause they need day people but I said I’d also be interested in bakery, floral or deli. We talked about my last job and I brought up cake decorating and even though they aren’t hiring in bakery she is gonna tell them about me and how I’m a cake decorator. Lol even gave her my business card like a champ and she literally said “I like you, you have a great personality.” Ohhh yeah and she said I should get a call by the weekend cause she has holidays after but she said to not freak out if it takes a few weeks. Fuck man, I think I got a bit of good luck today. And those assholes being jerks to me last night wouldn’t have made that good of an impression so yeah I fucking win. I have four honor rolls under my belt from grade 9-12 and lots of people praise my achievements in different hobbies and area’s of interest. I am an amazing writer, I’m smart, beautiful, I can draw if I try and I’m a responsible, organized, mature teenage girl with a warm heart for people who deserve it. I fucking matter and it wasn’t at all right for people to put me down and make fun when I was at my lowest last night. No, my Grandma didn’t die but I was still strong enough to say goodbye to two friends that were fucking jokes and pretty much thinking of shutting out two more that I just can’t believe anything from. It’s just not fucking worth having so much baggage, I don’t care if I’m good at pushing people away because you know what else I’m good at? ACHIEVING.
Monday, August 15, 2011
DarkAngel chapter six : Superman.
“Another deed committed, another good deed done right” Sarah thought which soon followed the realization that her wings were folding back inside. “No!” she yelled out of panic as she flew over an alleyway and her wings completely gave out. “Ah!’ Sarah shrieked in a rage of fear as her body flung to the left and then the right of the brick ally like a cloth doll, finally slamming down on a dumpster and rolling onto the ground. Sarah’s eyes were filled with tears as her once splintered middle finger was now pointing up, broken. She was bruised, she was cut, she was tired, she was dizzy and attempting to stand, falling back down to her knees almost instantly and then leaning onto her back for full rest as the world spun. A crunch of a leaf jolted her as she looked up holding her right hand with her left in a conscious` effort to make the pain go away by warming the hand. She looked up to find the man that sat in the diner, glancing down on her, although she was rattled and she was in pain and doses of dizzy kept cycling back, she was calm.
“Looking at me again eh?” he smirked. Sarah simply stayed in the same position of holding her right hand and laying on her back with a blank look on her face as her eyes told stories of fear. The man had the same fohawk and same leather jacket and voice which is how she could tell, but now she got the fill view of who he was. She recognized this mysterious male, his daring blue eyes that stared into the night as though he was going to step off the top of a building. The feeling that all he wanted to do was land in the middle of a genuine bad guy heist, as he wished to grasp the good that was still left to grow. The desire to hand above the towns and cities alongside the night to pursue any midnight glory at hand.
The cargo pants held his muscular thighs and a serrated knife was strapped to the side of his left leg. A flashlight was hidden on the inside of his boot as his pants lay over them. The metal piercing above his right eye, digging into his eyebrow, sparkled off of the moons glistening light. Blue shirt outlining his flawless tone and bulging forearms, matching the color of his eyes in a sea of heroic independence. Black leather jacket still laying on his mountainous shoulder blades. Black hair still spiked in a fohawk form. His eyes were so visible that at times one could see a hint of green, depending on the day and time. The jingle of his dog-tags were the sound of restoring faith as he came to the rescue. No questions asked, no time to thank this man of mystery, only a site to be seen and a man to be pondered.
”Let’s get you up darling” he continued in a deep, scruffy calming tone as he began to put his left arm under her knees and his right under her should blades to lift her. Sarah simply lay as still as ever, cold, scared and as lost of ever. She simply let it happen, she allowed him to pick her up, his warm hands and his aura of safety surrounded her. “I am Nathan Edge” he spoke in his deep, scruffy tone as it echoed within the ally, “and you’re cursed sweetheart.” Sarah gasped wondering how in the world he knew about that curse. He smiled at her as he steadily continued walking in the direction of his house, “I know you’re cursed because I’ve seen it happen, I know you’re trying to help because you can’t let your guilt fill your stomach, and I know how precious you are.”
Sarah just stood at him, wide-eyed and pending the silence, “I, I . .” she stuttered, “I’ve seen you before.” With this attempt to speak, her heart beat ten times faster, as she awaited silence, silence that did not pull through. “Yes, I was the shadow in the park, the carrier at the gas station and the catcher today, you are cursed and so I’ve been watching you.” His voice relaxed at the end as he had found empathy with her among her now year filled pupils. “Superman?” she whispered before burying her head in his chest and falling into subconsciousness again.
Written By: Megan Lizee
“Looking at me again eh?” he smirked. Sarah simply stayed in the same position of holding her right hand and laying on her back with a blank look on her face as her eyes told stories of fear. The man had the same fohawk and same leather jacket and voice which is how she could tell, but now she got the fill view of who he was. She recognized this mysterious male, his daring blue eyes that stared into the night as though he was going to step off the top of a building. The feeling that all he wanted to do was land in the middle of a genuine bad guy heist, as he wished to grasp the good that was still left to grow. The desire to hand above the towns and cities alongside the night to pursue any midnight glory at hand.
The cargo pants held his muscular thighs and a serrated knife was strapped to the side of his left leg. A flashlight was hidden on the inside of his boot as his pants lay over them. The metal piercing above his right eye, digging into his eyebrow, sparkled off of the moons glistening light. Blue shirt outlining his flawless tone and bulging forearms, matching the color of his eyes in a sea of heroic independence. Black leather jacket still laying on his mountainous shoulder blades. Black hair still spiked in a fohawk form. His eyes were so visible that at times one could see a hint of green, depending on the day and time. The jingle of his dog-tags were the sound of restoring faith as he came to the rescue. No questions asked, no time to thank this man of mystery, only a site to be seen and a man to be pondered.
”Let’s get you up darling” he continued in a deep, scruffy calming tone as he began to put his left arm under her knees and his right under her should blades to lift her. Sarah simply lay as still as ever, cold, scared and as lost of ever. She simply let it happen, she allowed him to pick her up, his warm hands and his aura of safety surrounded her. “I am Nathan Edge” he spoke in his deep, scruffy tone as it echoed within the ally, “and you’re cursed sweetheart.” Sarah gasped wondering how in the world he knew about that curse. He smiled at her as he steadily continued walking in the direction of his house, “I know you’re cursed because I’ve seen it happen, I know you’re trying to help because you can’t let your guilt fill your stomach, and I know how precious you are.”
Sarah just stood at him, wide-eyed and pending the silence, “I, I . .” she stuttered, “I’ve seen you before.” With this attempt to speak, her heart beat ten times faster, as she awaited silence, silence that did not pull through. “Yes, I was the shadow in the park, the carrier at the gas station and the catcher today, you are cursed and so I’ve been watching you.” His voice relaxed at the end as he had found empathy with her among her now year filled pupils. “Superman?” she whispered before burying her head in his chest and falling into subconsciousness again.
Written By: Megan Lizee
I really enjoyed this actor in the movie S.W.A.T. Firefight, I watched it last night and I didn’t expect it to be as good as it was. “A relentless government assassin stalks the Detroit S.W.A.T. team in this explosive urban action thriller.” Gabriel plays an LAPD cop and anti-terrorism expert who accepts a job teaching hostage rescue tactics in Detroit and ends up having a dispute that causes the relentless government assassin to become obsessed with him and not stop till his S.W.A.T. team is dead. I just loved the character that he played, a character that goes through so many emotions and won’t hold down a relationship till of course he meets this other girl and I don’t know, just the way he kissed her and held her in the movie and all his dialogue. I just fell in love with the character Paul Cutler. The movie wasn’t Emmy nominated or anything but he played the part like a star.
Sunday, August 14, 2011
DarkAngel chapter five : Showtime.
The breeze whisped Sarah’s hair out of her face as the cold breeze licked it. “Heights, oh why am I so fearful?” Sarah questioned herself, “Come on Sarah, wings out, fly!” she yelled at the top of her lungs knowing that she couldn’t possibly be heard this high up. “I may be cursed but I am not going to hell, I will not give up on my faith so I will take this pain and take the blessing of being able to fly, I will not give up” Sarah convinced herself as she resided on a ten story apartment on the deserted side of town, all out east-side with blank faces and crappy wallpaper. “Peach, the whole damn building, all ten stories, peach?!” she argued out loud to herself, “awesome, well atleast if I die than people won’t be to excited to put the crime scene in the New York Times“
Sarah stood there upon the rooftop until the sun faded from her face and the dusk fell upon the town, continuously asking herself how to fly the entire time. Sarah tried many things like imagining the bank robbers or the men in the park to create a mask of anger but only frustration tattered at her insides. Sarah also attempted to flap her arms up and down consciously hoping to suddenly sore without wings while yelling “come on wings, come on!” She now sat there, sitting on the one lonely white lawn chair that had managed to get a lift to the roof, dusk still slowly laying over the town devouring the sun one block at a time.
She attempted to fly day in and day out for what seemed like months, although only a week had literally passed. Stone simply sat on the horrific peach colored roof on the one lonely lawn chair that had found no grass. Stone, becoming a stone. “Guess you know how I feel eh? No home, no color, just a curse of a peach colored rooftop?” she giggled at her humour as she wondered how crazy one could become. Her own personal batcave, sitting there day by day, tick tock as time slowed each dawn till dusk movement of the sun. She expected wrinkles at each new moral morning. “No screams, no hero needed” as this thought passed on through a shriek echoed throughout the streets, “help me! Anybody! Thief! Thief!”
Sarah perked up and stood up from her chair in an instant, running over to the nearest ledge to peer over. Nothing, as she ran to the next ledge in order to find a vantage point on the current situation at hand. Third try and she was now in view of a middle aged man with shaggy brown hair sprinting down a busy street dragging a purse behind him as it fluttered all around within his grasp. He was running opposite of the mainstream public, this view was like a treadmill, fighting against something that will just keep coming like waves. Continuing to push people out of the way, the man was slowing. “Perfect”, her voice grew deep as her pupils widened with excitement as they filled with red. She gasped, wings tearing out of her awaiting flesh. The pain was no less than the last but the perseverance in her mind hacked away at the piercing emotion.
Her heart raced, pumping louder and louder, awhile her breath got heavier and heavier. Wings stretched, body plunging to great depth, Sarah Stone had finally taken flight once again, soaring the skies with great strength and leadership. Swooping over the man, she was ready to snatch him but no in public like this. The thief kept running straight into opposing crowds until he separated, “yes, a chance” she smirked. Letting down to the ground, just low enough to snatch the perpetrator and his stolen goods, Sarah closed in her wings to bolt up fast and then unfold them to gain a boost when reaching the seasoned high sky. He screamed out of surprise and wiggled his feet frantically back and forth as he dangled above the passing buildings. This fear factor terror grew higher until the longest five minutes came to an end, dropping the thief two meters from the rooftop before dropping down herself. Standing tall beside him, wings still fluttering at each side, eyes red and focused on matching with his.
Sarah screamed into his ear ”you know what you did?!” as she tugged the purse from his scarce grip. Holding the now ripped strap of the purple purse, she clenched the buckle and wrapped the strap around her hand to be sure that nobody could tug it away. Sarah clenched the purse with her left as she built up the strength and courage to right hook him, hard and fast. “WHAM” she splintered her middle finger as she took a deep breath to sustain the pain, only kindling the flame of anger that was ready to burst into a forest fire. Sarah moved over to where he had landed, and as he attempted to stand up she suddenly gripped his t-shirt collar and moved him up towards her face, allowing him to dangle above the floor. This shaggy haired middle aged man was a short man, only about five and a half feet tall and not weighing all that much she realized as she stared him down.
His eyes began to thaw with tears as a simple reminder to Sarah Stone that he was still, only human, although mistaken for a criminal beast that doesn’t deserve to leave this peach jailhouse. “You’re finished!” she screamed a she tied him up with his own gray hoodie and sat him on the floor so that she could dial the emergency number and get him what he deserves, a court date; justice. The cops were now on their way to her position as she looked over the ledge to find a police car moments later, “that’s my Que” she whispered as she leaped off the roof once more. She shot straight down from the roof like a rocket blasting opposite of the moon, slowing down to open her wings as far as they could reach. She allowed herself to quietly soar through the streets to find the place of the incident.
Fifteen minutes later she knew she’d found it by the site of an old lady wearing a pink fuzzy cardigan with white hair. Stone lowered down enough to slowly glide over the bench the old lady sat upon as she let the purse slowly slip out of her hands, low enough to not break any valuables, she let go. The purse floated downwards like a leaf in the fall until the slight bang at the bottom, a smile appeared on the old lady’s face as she could not have predicted something like this. A tear fell from her eye as she looked up to discover a partial wing, the white wing, “Oh thank you Jesus, I’ve always loved you” the prayed in a whisper.
Written By: Megan Lizee
Sarah stood there upon the rooftop until the sun faded from her face and the dusk fell upon the town, continuously asking herself how to fly the entire time. Sarah tried many things like imagining the bank robbers or the men in the park to create a mask of anger but only frustration tattered at her insides. Sarah also attempted to flap her arms up and down consciously hoping to suddenly sore without wings while yelling “come on wings, come on!” She now sat there, sitting on the one lonely white lawn chair that had managed to get a lift to the roof, dusk still slowly laying over the town devouring the sun one block at a time.
She attempted to fly day in and day out for what seemed like months, although only a week had literally passed. Stone simply sat on the horrific peach colored roof on the one lonely lawn chair that had found no grass. Stone, becoming a stone. “Guess you know how I feel eh? No home, no color, just a curse of a peach colored rooftop?” she giggled at her humour as she wondered how crazy one could become. Her own personal batcave, sitting there day by day, tick tock as time slowed each dawn till dusk movement of the sun. She expected wrinkles at each new moral morning. “No screams, no hero needed” as this thought passed on through a shriek echoed throughout the streets, “help me! Anybody! Thief! Thief!”
Sarah perked up and stood up from her chair in an instant, running over to the nearest ledge to peer over. Nothing, as she ran to the next ledge in order to find a vantage point on the current situation at hand. Third try and she was now in view of a middle aged man with shaggy brown hair sprinting down a busy street dragging a purse behind him as it fluttered all around within his grasp. He was running opposite of the mainstream public, this view was like a treadmill, fighting against something that will just keep coming like waves. Continuing to push people out of the way, the man was slowing. “Perfect”, her voice grew deep as her pupils widened with excitement as they filled with red. She gasped, wings tearing out of her awaiting flesh. The pain was no less than the last but the perseverance in her mind hacked away at the piercing emotion.
Her heart raced, pumping louder and louder, awhile her breath got heavier and heavier. Wings stretched, body plunging to great depth, Sarah Stone had finally taken flight once again, soaring the skies with great strength and leadership. Swooping over the man, she was ready to snatch him but no in public like this. The thief kept running straight into opposing crowds until he separated, “yes, a chance” she smirked. Letting down to the ground, just low enough to snatch the perpetrator and his stolen goods, Sarah closed in her wings to bolt up fast and then unfold them to gain a boost when reaching the seasoned high sky. He screamed out of surprise and wiggled his feet frantically back and forth as he dangled above the passing buildings. This fear factor terror grew higher until the longest five minutes came to an end, dropping the thief two meters from the rooftop before dropping down herself. Standing tall beside him, wings still fluttering at each side, eyes red and focused on matching with his.
Sarah screamed into his ear ”you know what you did?!” as she tugged the purse from his scarce grip. Holding the now ripped strap of the purple purse, she clenched the buckle and wrapped the strap around her hand to be sure that nobody could tug it away. Sarah clenched the purse with her left as she built up the strength and courage to right hook him, hard and fast. “WHAM” she splintered her middle finger as she took a deep breath to sustain the pain, only kindling the flame of anger that was ready to burst into a forest fire. Sarah moved over to where he had landed, and as he attempted to stand up she suddenly gripped his t-shirt collar and moved him up towards her face, allowing him to dangle above the floor. This shaggy haired middle aged man was a short man, only about five and a half feet tall and not weighing all that much she realized as she stared him down.
His eyes began to thaw with tears as a simple reminder to Sarah Stone that he was still, only human, although mistaken for a criminal beast that doesn’t deserve to leave this peach jailhouse. “You’re finished!” she screamed a she tied him up with his own gray hoodie and sat him on the floor so that she could dial the emergency number and get him what he deserves, a court date; justice. The cops were now on their way to her position as she looked over the ledge to find a police car moments later, “that’s my Que” she whispered as she leaped off the roof once more. She shot straight down from the roof like a rocket blasting opposite of the moon, slowing down to open her wings as far as they could reach. She allowed herself to quietly soar through the streets to find the place of the incident.
Fifteen minutes later she knew she’d found it by the site of an old lady wearing a pink fuzzy cardigan with white hair. Stone lowered down enough to slowly glide over the bench the old lady sat upon as she let the purse slowly slip out of her hands, low enough to not break any valuables, she let go. The purse floated downwards like a leaf in the fall until the slight bang at the bottom, a smile appeared on the old lady’s face as she could not have predicted something like this. A tear fell from her eye as she looked up to discover a partial wing, the white wing, “Oh thank you Jesus, I’ve always loved you” the prayed in a whisper.
Written By: Megan Lizee
DarkAngel chapter four : Mistaken Retreat.
“Urg, why would he just leave me thinking that he was a Paramedic? Why!” Sarah drowned in thought as she sat at the town’s diner. Old fashioned white tile flooring as red cushioned booth seats and gray tables lined the two outer walls. Sarah was sitting to the left of the door on a straight wall perpendicular to the door. She was lounging in the second booth from the door as the wall opposite of the door was also layered with booths. Sarah had ordered a nice cup of hot chocolate and a hot bowel of their chicken corn chowder that had been her favorite since she was young. The comforting smell of that creamy sauce as it was chalked full of chicken and vegetables to fill her with reassurance and a satisfied belly. The craving had formed when she awoke in the hospital only to find a bowel of purple jello resting on the side-table. After scurrying out of there she decided she should treat herself and therefore, she ended up on that very red cushioned furniture.
Sarah’s two o’clock view was the diner’s counter. It was gray like the tables and the stools were gray with a red cushion to take a seat upon. One server doddled from one side to the other serving the gently old men just asking for a hot cup of coffee. One man stood out. From what Stone could see from her angle he was sipping a vanilla milkshake from a straw, and his thick black hair was styled up into a fohawk. A dark colored leather jacket rested upon his sturdy shoulders. His dark baggy jeans rested on his work boots as he motioned his foot up and down, as if tapping to the clock’s rhythm. Sarah thought she regognized this man, but then again she was on alot of pain killers at this point
His eyes rolled right, meeting her peering eyes as he gave a smirk of self-assurance, even she could tell how obvious it had been that she was staring. “What?!” Sarah exclaimed, knowing she had been staring for the last little while she felt unsure and didn’t need to build on another potential juveniles ego. “Nothing” the man laughed as his smirk stayed glued to his face until he twisted his stool back around to face the counter and shook his head left to right. Soon after her soup was in site, the server laid it down in front of her as the scent was inhaled through her nose. “Ah, bliss” she dreamed as she sipped her soup one spoonful at a time. Enjoying this very luxury and her hot chocolate was a defining moment for she was thankful, something she hadn’t been in quite sometime.
Sarah took out her laptop and connected to the internet, she need to know why she had a winged tattoo. She dialed a few friends numbers and asked Ruby is she ever got a random tattoo of wings on her back, one black and one white. Ruby denied any activity of that sort and said how excited she was that Sarah was now apart of the rebelious club. Sarah hung up a few moments later and began her research on the computer. She read about the lore of Angels and Hell and the superstitious beliefs and what Christianity meant to the norbles in the medieval days. Sarah herself was a Christian and all of this reading just reminded her of the many Sundays in church spent holding a bible and praying to a stained glass window that shined Jesus Christ in bright colors throughout the church.
Sarah read for a few hours, and by this time the sun had begun to disapait below her vision and the dinner was empty except for the waitress that had served her and the woman at the counter still moving from side to side to clean up after the afternoon rounds. Sarah’s research had almost gone on long enough until she found an article that explained a curse for Christians and it read “a complete Christian blood line must obey each and every rule or be punished for the wrong actions, they must follow the main rules. Do not steal, do not cheat, stay a Virgin Mary until marriage-“Sarah stopped reading. Her jaw dropped, her eyes teared, her emotions ran back to her heart as it stopped beating for a few intravals. The realization from the park, from the Gas Station, the realization that she was… cursed.
Sarah had lost her innocence when she wasn’t able to stop the thief the first time, but no, this was not it. Her Virgin Mary status had disappeared a year prior today, a rape, that was curse enough but to be sliced with this. “The deciever of these rules will be presuaded to go to hell, every good deed would cause suffering and pain to the one responsible and they will be forbidden from heaven or hell until proven that they must go to one. Each good deed will cause pain until the one responsible cannot endure it any longer and begins to give up, this will be the-” Sarah could not read on and half an hour later she laid a twenty dollar bill on the table to afford her soup, drink and a five dollar tip for the kind server.
Written By: Megan Lizee
Sarah’s two o’clock view was the diner’s counter. It was gray like the tables and the stools were gray with a red cushion to take a seat upon. One server doddled from one side to the other serving the gently old men just asking for a hot cup of coffee. One man stood out. From what Stone could see from her angle he was sipping a vanilla milkshake from a straw, and his thick black hair was styled up into a fohawk. A dark colored leather jacket rested upon his sturdy shoulders. His dark baggy jeans rested on his work boots as he motioned his foot up and down, as if tapping to the clock’s rhythm. Sarah thought she regognized this man, but then again she was on alot of pain killers at this point
His eyes rolled right, meeting her peering eyes as he gave a smirk of self-assurance, even she could tell how obvious it had been that she was staring. “What?!” Sarah exclaimed, knowing she had been staring for the last little while she felt unsure and didn’t need to build on another potential juveniles ego. “Nothing” the man laughed as his smirk stayed glued to his face until he twisted his stool back around to face the counter and shook his head left to right. Soon after her soup was in site, the server laid it down in front of her as the scent was inhaled through her nose. “Ah, bliss” she dreamed as she sipped her soup one spoonful at a time. Enjoying this very luxury and her hot chocolate was a defining moment for she was thankful, something she hadn’t been in quite sometime.
Sarah took out her laptop and connected to the internet, she need to know why she had a winged tattoo. She dialed a few friends numbers and asked Ruby is she ever got a random tattoo of wings on her back, one black and one white. Ruby denied any activity of that sort and said how excited she was that Sarah was now apart of the rebelious club. Sarah hung up a few moments later and began her research on the computer. She read about the lore of Angels and Hell and the superstitious beliefs and what Christianity meant to the norbles in the medieval days. Sarah herself was a Christian and all of this reading just reminded her of the many Sundays in church spent holding a bible and praying to a stained glass window that shined Jesus Christ in bright colors throughout the church.
Sarah read for a few hours, and by this time the sun had begun to disapait below her vision and the dinner was empty except for the waitress that had served her and the woman at the counter still moving from side to side to clean up after the afternoon rounds. Sarah’s research had almost gone on long enough until she found an article that explained a curse for Christians and it read “a complete Christian blood line must obey each and every rule or be punished for the wrong actions, they must follow the main rules. Do not steal, do not cheat, stay a Virgin Mary until marriage-“Sarah stopped reading. Her jaw dropped, her eyes teared, her emotions ran back to her heart as it stopped beating for a few intravals. The realization from the park, from the Gas Station, the realization that she was… cursed.
Sarah had lost her innocence when she wasn’t able to stop the thief the first time, but no, this was not it. Her Virgin Mary status had disappeared a year prior today, a rape, that was curse enough but to be sliced with this. “The deciever of these rules will be presuaded to go to hell, every good deed would cause suffering and pain to the one responsible and they will be forbidden from heaven or hell until proven that they must go to one. Each good deed will cause pain until the one responsible cannot endure it any longer and begins to give up, this will be the-” Sarah could not read on and half an hour later she laid a twenty dollar bill on the table to afford her soup, drink and a five dollar tip for the kind server.
Written By: Megan Lizee
DarkAngel chapter three : Incurable.
Waking up in a bumpy hospital bed was getting old. The smell of old people, as ghostly dressed figures prodded at her with their so called “medical technique”. Their opinions written on clipboards as they pulled out binders to recall previous incidences. “Miss Stone, you were admitted after a violent beating a year ago, to this very day in fact, correct?” presumed the Doctor as he inspected her. “Correct” Sarah answered, with a smirk on her face she sarcastically continued, “but Doctor, I’m not in any pain so can I be on my merry little way or what?” The Doctor was confused as he replied with an unsure “Miss Stone your back was covered with blood and you were left with a nurse unconscious, do you even know how you got here?”
Sarah Stone was now stuck in thought as memories flooded back until she remembered the Paramedic, “a Paramedic brought me, who did you think brought me here?” she argued. “Miss Stone the man that brought you here was not a Paramedic, did he pretend to be an emergency aid?” the doctor responded. Sarah was now a little emotional, not knowing who brought her, not wanting to accept that what happened was real. Sarah needed a way out.
“Doc, pardon me for overstepping my bounds, but can you not tell the difference between what’s real and what’s fake?” Sarah continued her blunt lie as she gathered her clothes and kept eye contact with the clocked Doctor she faced, “see Doc, me and my friends were at a party and it was a vampire theme, fake blood and oh man tons of alcohol. My buddy bobby must have dropped me off and my goodness my parents are probably so worried!”
The Doctor just squinted as Sarah continued to gather her things, but then he opened his mouth allowing an order to exhale as he spoke. “Miss Stone you cannot simply show up and walk out, there are proper instructions, documents, papers- ” He was cut off as Sarah bluntly yelled “Yah! So?! You want to cuff me, chain me up huh? What do you want, a medallion? You checked me out, I’m healthy and now I am leaving so get the hell out of my way, Doc!”
Written By: Megan Lizee
Sarah Stone was now stuck in thought as memories flooded back until she remembered the Paramedic, “a Paramedic brought me, who did you think brought me here?” she argued. “Miss Stone the man that brought you here was not a Paramedic, did he pretend to be an emergency aid?” the doctor responded. Sarah was now a little emotional, not knowing who brought her, not wanting to accept that what happened was real. Sarah needed a way out.
“Doc, pardon me for overstepping my bounds, but can you not tell the difference between what’s real and what’s fake?” Sarah continued her blunt lie as she gathered her clothes and kept eye contact with the clocked Doctor she faced, “see Doc, me and my friends were at a party and it was a vampire theme, fake blood and oh man tons of alcohol. My buddy bobby must have dropped me off and my goodness my parents are probably so worried!”
The Doctor just squinted as Sarah continued to gather her things, but then he opened his mouth allowing an order to exhale as he spoke. “Miss Stone you cannot simply show up and walk out, there are proper instructions, documents, papers- ” He was cut off as Sarah bluntly yelled “Yah! So?! You want to cuff me, chain me up huh? What do you want, a medallion? You checked me out, I’m healthy and now I am leaving so get the hell out of my way, Doc!”
Written By: Megan Lizee
DarkAngel chapter two : Cursed Robbery.
Sarah walked into the Gas Station, moving over to the hot chocolate machine as she pressed the button to pour it into the styrofoam cup. “Ahh” she thought, something hot to calm my nerves. She walked up to the counter to pay and then decided to use the bathroom before leaving to school. Sarah politly asked for the bathroom key, grasped it, and wandered over to the door. “Put your hands up!” a man angrily yelled behind her. Sarah’s hands shook as she put the key into the lock and got into the bathroom, yet again her helpless soul had been condemned to witness a robbery that she didn’t have control over. Yet again Sarah was trapped, now relying on the safety of a gas station bathroom, yet again she was terrified and alone. She immediately took a seat on the white toilet and dug into her pocket for her cell phone, taking it out so quickly that it fell to the floor and chopped her battery out of the back.
“Oh my god, oh my god, dammit” Sarah was frustrated but still managed to stay quiet while frantically trying to pick up the battery. Out of nowhere a shooting pain ejected from her back, as if her spine had knives attached to the bone that were dug into her flesh. “Ah!” Sarah shrieked out of pain and fell to the floor on her knees, she reached out for the battery and dropped it again when the pain crept up to her neck. “If you’re calling the cops, you will pay!” The sharp pain of a knife being dug into her back and dragged down and rewound to happen all over again, her flesh parting to either side of her back as a cold shiver ran down her body. Sarah Stone believed that she was going to die.
Screaming out of agony the thieves continued to bang on the door yelling at her to exit the bathroom before they take the door down. Sarah put her hands on her back, trying to end the pain she put pressure on it and brought her hand back to her chest. Her hands were wet, they were dripping, they were red. “Get out of there now!” the thieves continued to threat. Immediately taking off her shirt at the site of a blood hand print she was witness to all the blood dripping down her back, oozing out of the wound. Some black ink was still present on her back from the tattoo, but blood was soon smeared to cover the entire design and then an instant glow. Pain jerked up her neck and looking into the mirror Sarah glared into the eyes of an unknown, she didn’t understand. Confused Sarah took another look into her eyes, they were red, but how? “Ah!” Sarah continued to scream out of pain and she turned her back to the mirror again only to find that her tattoo was glowing the red color her eyes had changed to. The glow continued to burn bright and the pain went down, it went down alot.
“You’re going to be sliced the hell up lady!” Tears rolled down her naked cheeks as she became faint; blood slowing down with each teardrop. The feeling of knives wrenching out of her back swerved back into her altered flesh, as feathers emerged. A left wing pierced out of her skin, the hollow tan that once shined. Feathers as white as untouched snow, as graceful and glimmering as the sweetest sun-kissed morning sky. Stretching out, consumed by the blood they leaked. Seconds later the right wing pierced out of Sarah’s body, as her head now met her thighs and she laid her hands down in front, the hollow bone of the wing cracked into place. This wing was not as white as snow, but as black as night. Black feathers lifted as the wing stretched to the right, blood sliding off like dew from a leaf in the early morning. Sarah’s screaming quieted as the last of her tears fell to the cold blue tiled flooring. Her hands met the yellow wallpapered wall as she found her footing, tortured in the same situation that scared her with a slash of fear months before. Silence shook the salty bathroom. Such an empty place, a dry place, a wet and unwanted picture of a memory.
Pounding slammed into the door, one side of a man’s body and then the next being flailed upon the door in order to enter. A loud slam emerged, echoing off the bathroom walls as the dust soared around the room created a grey cloud. Three men stood in front of her, their faces complete with anger and emptiness, claiming nothing within their hearts as they brought upon even more shame to this room. Their torn shoes met with the blood pool and they looked down only to be astonished when their pupils met a sea of red. Sarah Stone stood directly in front of them now, as the dust settled among the blood stained blue tiles, they now saw what they came to slice. The three men, one about 5’11 wearing dark jeans and a black hoodie hiding his disgusting face with a sock-like mask. The two others were around 6 feet also wearing all black with sock-like masks. The three men all froze at the site. Black high heels beneath boot cut jeans that were ripped at the knee and drenched in blood where the skin peered out of the hole. Higher lay her red hands hugging the sides of her body and a white tank top with one bloody hand-print smack in the center of her chest. One white wing floated out to her left as the black wing floated to her left; a light and a shadow. Her lengthy brown hair was now darker then ever as her face seemed pale, lips quivered, nostrils flared, and eyes as red as our Earth’s center core. This was the site, this was the scene, this was the last time.
“Leave!” she yelled at the three men, so loud, so angry that they didn’t even flinch before turning around and crashing into one another to squeeze through the demonic doorway that now stood without a door. An echo continued out the door as she created a new order, “Run! Get the hell out of here! You should not have done this! Get Out!” the more Sarah yelled the louder she got, the more her echo rained upon the fleeing men that were once the weapon here. She screamed across all of the shelves, allowing the pain to escape her lungs and exhale through her chest. They kept running, full throttle, almost tripping when their front feet flew over the sidewalk to hit the street. Sarah Stone stood there for a moment and the next she knew she couldn’t allow them to get away with this. They walked into this gas station with masks on, held a knife to the cashier and threated her life, over what? A few hundred dollars for a life? Justice, justice should suffice.
She grasped the wind and jumped, being caught just above gravity her wings maneuvered even farther out from her body. Sarah drifted over the streets like a hawk, naturally inhaling and exhaling her answer of calm as she kept good pace upon the crooks that were dashing just North of her position. Soaring over them she lowered her position closing her wings to her body, and as hard as a nail she took the pressure from the sky and collided with them just enough before giving way to atmosphere and soaring up. The three men were now helpless as Sarah floated above for a few circles around them then delicately landed on the lamppost before descending to street level. Crouched, left knee licking the concrete alongside the right foot nailed to it. Fixing her gaze on the gate-crashers she clutched her pocket to grab her phone then soon realized it was back at the gas station, “oh come on!” Sarah exclaimed. “I got this far, I’ll just have to go back one last time” she thought for a moment and then the chant of sirens whispered to her ear. Her commendable deed was now done, as any and all physical pain melted off of her delicate flesh. Her eyes glazed over and trailed to the back of her head, a dizzy spell overwhelmed her shaking knee as she fell to the cement, her commendable deed was now done. Sirens continued to echo throughout the street, as a man walked up to her and stared at her, “my, my, my” he whispered to himself. Sarah awoke to this as he knelt down to her side and explained that he was a paramedic and was here to help. Building her trust she allowed him to pick her up, she burried her face into his chest and fell into a deep relaxation with no ear to reality. The ambulance, and police finally showed up and arrested the crooks as Sarah was now a block away in the arms of a stranger.
Written By: Megan Lizee
“Oh my god, oh my god, dammit” Sarah was frustrated but still managed to stay quiet while frantically trying to pick up the battery. Out of nowhere a shooting pain ejected from her back, as if her spine had knives attached to the bone that were dug into her flesh. “Ah!” Sarah shrieked out of pain and fell to the floor on her knees, she reached out for the battery and dropped it again when the pain crept up to her neck. “If you’re calling the cops, you will pay!” The sharp pain of a knife being dug into her back and dragged down and rewound to happen all over again, her flesh parting to either side of her back as a cold shiver ran down her body. Sarah Stone believed that she was going to die.
Screaming out of agony the thieves continued to bang on the door yelling at her to exit the bathroom before they take the door down. Sarah put her hands on her back, trying to end the pain she put pressure on it and brought her hand back to her chest. Her hands were wet, they were dripping, they were red. “Get out of there now!” the thieves continued to threat. Immediately taking off her shirt at the site of a blood hand print she was witness to all the blood dripping down her back, oozing out of the wound. Some black ink was still present on her back from the tattoo, but blood was soon smeared to cover the entire design and then an instant glow. Pain jerked up her neck and looking into the mirror Sarah glared into the eyes of an unknown, she didn’t understand. Confused Sarah took another look into her eyes, they were red, but how? “Ah!” Sarah continued to scream out of pain and she turned her back to the mirror again only to find that her tattoo was glowing the red color her eyes had changed to. The glow continued to burn bright and the pain went down, it went down alot.
“You’re going to be sliced the hell up lady!” Tears rolled down her naked cheeks as she became faint; blood slowing down with each teardrop. The feeling of knives wrenching out of her back swerved back into her altered flesh, as feathers emerged. A left wing pierced out of her skin, the hollow tan that once shined. Feathers as white as untouched snow, as graceful and glimmering as the sweetest sun-kissed morning sky. Stretching out, consumed by the blood they leaked. Seconds later the right wing pierced out of Sarah’s body, as her head now met her thighs and she laid her hands down in front, the hollow bone of the wing cracked into place. This wing was not as white as snow, but as black as night. Black feathers lifted as the wing stretched to the right, blood sliding off like dew from a leaf in the early morning. Sarah’s screaming quieted as the last of her tears fell to the cold blue tiled flooring. Her hands met the yellow wallpapered wall as she found her footing, tortured in the same situation that scared her with a slash of fear months before. Silence shook the salty bathroom. Such an empty place, a dry place, a wet and unwanted picture of a memory.
Pounding slammed into the door, one side of a man’s body and then the next being flailed upon the door in order to enter. A loud slam emerged, echoing off the bathroom walls as the dust soared around the room created a grey cloud. Three men stood in front of her, their faces complete with anger and emptiness, claiming nothing within their hearts as they brought upon even more shame to this room. Their torn shoes met with the blood pool and they looked down only to be astonished when their pupils met a sea of red. Sarah Stone stood directly in front of them now, as the dust settled among the blood stained blue tiles, they now saw what they came to slice. The three men, one about 5’11 wearing dark jeans and a black hoodie hiding his disgusting face with a sock-like mask. The two others were around 6 feet also wearing all black with sock-like masks. The three men all froze at the site. Black high heels beneath boot cut jeans that were ripped at the knee and drenched in blood where the skin peered out of the hole. Higher lay her red hands hugging the sides of her body and a white tank top with one bloody hand-print smack in the center of her chest. One white wing floated out to her left as the black wing floated to her left; a light and a shadow. Her lengthy brown hair was now darker then ever as her face seemed pale, lips quivered, nostrils flared, and eyes as red as our Earth’s center core. This was the site, this was the scene, this was the last time.
“Leave!” she yelled at the three men, so loud, so angry that they didn’t even flinch before turning around and crashing into one another to squeeze through the demonic doorway that now stood without a door. An echo continued out the door as she created a new order, “Run! Get the hell out of here! You should not have done this! Get Out!” the more Sarah yelled the louder she got, the more her echo rained upon the fleeing men that were once the weapon here. She screamed across all of the shelves, allowing the pain to escape her lungs and exhale through her chest. They kept running, full throttle, almost tripping when their front feet flew over the sidewalk to hit the street. Sarah Stone stood there for a moment and the next she knew she couldn’t allow them to get away with this. They walked into this gas station with masks on, held a knife to the cashier and threated her life, over what? A few hundred dollars for a life? Justice, justice should suffice.
She grasped the wind and jumped, being caught just above gravity her wings maneuvered even farther out from her body. Sarah drifted over the streets like a hawk, naturally inhaling and exhaling her answer of calm as she kept good pace upon the crooks that were dashing just North of her position. Soaring over them she lowered her position closing her wings to her body, and as hard as a nail she took the pressure from the sky and collided with them just enough before giving way to atmosphere and soaring up. The three men were now helpless as Sarah floated above for a few circles around them then delicately landed on the lamppost before descending to street level. Crouched, left knee licking the concrete alongside the right foot nailed to it. Fixing her gaze on the gate-crashers she clutched her pocket to grab her phone then soon realized it was back at the gas station, “oh come on!” Sarah exclaimed. “I got this far, I’ll just have to go back one last time” she thought for a moment and then the chant of sirens whispered to her ear. Her commendable deed was now done, as any and all physical pain melted off of her delicate flesh. Her eyes glazed over and trailed to the back of her head, a dizzy spell overwhelmed her shaking knee as she fell to the cement, her commendable deed was now done. Sirens continued to echo throughout the street, as a man walked up to her and stared at her, “my, my, my” he whispered to himself. Sarah awoke to this as he knelt down to her side and explained that he was a paramedic and was here to help. Building her trust she allowed him to pick her up, she burried her face into his chest and fell into a deep relaxation with no ear to reality. The ambulance, and police finally showed up and arrested the crooks as Sarah was now a block away in the arms of a stranger.
Written By: Megan Lizee
DarkAngel chapter one : Background.
Sarah Stone walked through the park, the leaves were falling as they did the year before. The memory still stinging her mind; straining every vessel. The robbery flashback from last summer when Braden Hawke and Chris Volt had walked in the Gas Station and threatned the cashier. What people do for money is disgusting. Braden Hawke was nineteen years old when he decided that he was sick of University, he dropped out and was fired from his job for bad behavior. He met Chris Volt, age twenty eight, at a bar not to far from his house because he was having a bad day and thirsted for rum. The two of them drank up and as they were leaving the pub, they realized they couldn’t pay the tab and since they needed to return the next night to drown their sorrows, they walked into the Gas Station with the mind of a devil. Braden pulled a knife on the cashier as Chris walked around the Gas Station for any witnesses, Sarah was there that day.
Chris Volt found her and grabbed her by the hair and threw Sarah into ever shelf he passed. Sarah is of normal build, she attends kick-boxing weekly so she can take a hit but in a time of panic when Chris weighed more then thirty pounds her weight, Sarah was helpless. She took a brutal beating from Chris as Braden was still content with his weapon and the cash that was being handed over to him. Sirens rained the streets and echoed through the sun bleached windows, the cops arrived and Braden and Chris were taken to jail and Sarah to the hospital. Sarah testified against Braden Hawke and Chris Volt as the police men took photos of her sliced face and several bruised ribs. It was over, until Braden and Chris got out on parol in the fall and found her in the very park she was in now, the very season and perhaps even the very day.
It had happened a year ago, haunting Sarah Stone ever since as the memory strained her heart to even think about. She had just been coming back from her friends house, after attending a party hosted by Ruby Frost. Ruby had always been a fan of drinking, dancing and feeling free on Friday nights. Ruby had blood red hair and was wearing tight black skinnies and white knee-high boots that night. The party hosted over twenty-five people and half the people drove home after a few beers while the other half doddled through short-cuts so they could pass out earlier. Sarah had injested a few shots of tequila and two bottles of gatorade to stay decent. The chill in the park was weary as the breeze combed over her face sobering her up even more. She had been walking with the other ten members who made there way home until she separated to get home faster through the park.
Sarah had walked this park all her life, and each fall the leaves fell along the pathway almost covering the concrete entirely. The park was all grass except for the path suitable for one and a half people, there was a small childrens park to the side of it that held an old tire swing a few meters away from the big old willow tree. The park held grace and wisdom as each and every afternoon the children from the towns Elementary School took refuge upon it’s silk blades and tender sandpit. This, however, was separated from the dawn. This was the falling of dusk, the darkness of night, the glow of the moon and the rustle and crunch of the fallen sunset. Sarah continued on the covered pavement as the path was less than a block to get through the park and it took about half an hour off of her journey home. “Hello tattle tale” a giggling choppy voice whispered into the night, “HA HA HA!” the voice said again, but not the same tone. “Aloha my pretty!” a different voice yelled into the dead of night, “I have only been waiting for you” the voice softened to make it clear. Sarah’s heart beat faster and faster as she didn’t know if she should move back or go forward, “home, she thought, I have to get home” Sarah decided as her step widened and her gate quickened. “Where ya going baby?!” the voices yelled in sequence. Sarah Stone was terrified, the beat of her heart was now straining as the blood couldn’t be pumped fast enough to even have a chance at calming her down.
Two figures stood in front of the path when she turned the corner, two figures that flickered in the light of the moon. A face, darkness, a face, darkness. “It’s you!” Sarah screamed as the realization that these two figures were Braden Hawke and Chris Volt. She dashed for freedom, running through the bushes, sliding over the grass, screaming for help, until her foot was caught and her face was planted. She lay there, on the grass, shocked and still. “Think you’d get away huh?!” Braden screamed into her face, “Nobody can hear you but don’t worry because I won’t let you go like Christopher did, hey toph?” the man pulled her leg under his body. “Don’t you fucking touch me!” Sarah pleaded as a quiver began in her lips. Chris Volt began to speak “oh baby stop your worrying, we know what we’re doing” he winked and moved over to her still innocence.
Braden held her down, hand to shoulder hand to shoulder. Switching hands as he undid the buttons on her white blouse, ripping the whole thing apart when he couldn’t manage the last one. “STOP IT! HELP!” Sarah screamed at the top of her lungs, screaming, screaming, screaming. “Braden shut her the hell up!” Volt scolded Hawke, “move!” As Braden got up Chris moved down over her and slammed a fist to her face, “you shut the hell up or you’re going to get your face broken!” as he threatned her he undid her jean button and unzipped her fly as he ripped her jeans off pinching her thighs as he tugged furiously.
Her pants, off, her thighs, purple, her shirt, ripped, her face, bruised, her breasts, raw. Sarah kicked and screamed, managing to punch Braden in the face and kick Chris, standing up to make a run for it Chris grabbed her calf and dragged her back down to the park. “STOP IT!” Sarah screamed as the grasp floated away and she was able to stand, sprinting out of the park, red bra torn and white panties grass stained, she ran for her life only looking back, once.
She gasped as another figure was scene in a battle towards Braden and Chris, one punch to Braden and a knee to the face and he was down. Chris was slashed with a left hook and rammed to the floor to be grabbed by the collar and hit till he passed out. Sarah was astonished, but when this “superman” moved towards her position, Sarah turned around and ran once again. These memories taunted her mind as she continued to walk through this park, the scene of the crime, the figure of a man, and the scare of assault that would stay with her forever.
Written By: Megan Lizee
Chris Volt found her and grabbed her by the hair and threw Sarah into ever shelf he passed. Sarah is of normal build, she attends kick-boxing weekly so she can take a hit but in a time of panic when Chris weighed more then thirty pounds her weight, Sarah was helpless. She took a brutal beating from Chris as Braden was still content with his weapon and the cash that was being handed over to him. Sirens rained the streets and echoed through the sun bleached windows, the cops arrived and Braden and Chris were taken to jail and Sarah to the hospital. Sarah testified against Braden Hawke and Chris Volt as the police men took photos of her sliced face and several bruised ribs. It was over, until Braden and Chris got out on parol in the fall and found her in the very park she was in now, the very season and perhaps even the very day.
It had happened a year ago, haunting Sarah Stone ever since as the memory strained her heart to even think about. She had just been coming back from her friends house, after attending a party hosted by Ruby Frost. Ruby had always been a fan of drinking, dancing and feeling free on Friday nights. Ruby had blood red hair and was wearing tight black skinnies and white knee-high boots that night. The party hosted over twenty-five people and half the people drove home after a few beers while the other half doddled through short-cuts so they could pass out earlier. Sarah had injested a few shots of tequila and two bottles of gatorade to stay decent. The chill in the park was weary as the breeze combed over her face sobering her up even more. She had been walking with the other ten members who made there way home until she separated to get home faster through the park.
Sarah had walked this park all her life, and each fall the leaves fell along the pathway almost covering the concrete entirely. The park was all grass except for the path suitable for one and a half people, there was a small childrens park to the side of it that held an old tire swing a few meters away from the big old willow tree. The park held grace and wisdom as each and every afternoon the children from the towns Elementary School took refuge upon it’s silk blades and tender sandpit. This, however, was separated from the dawn. This was the falling of dusk, the darkness of night, the glow of the moon and the rustle and crunch of the fallen sunset. Sarah continued on the covered pavement as the path was less than a block to get through the park and it took about half an hour off of her journey home. “Hello tattle tale” a giggling choppy voice whispered into the night, “HA HA HA!” the voice said again, but not the same tone. “Aloha my pretty!” a different voice yelled into the dead of night, “I have only been waiting for you” the voice softened to make it clear. Sarah’s heart beat faster and faster as she didn’t know if she should move back or go forward, “home, she thought, I have to get home” Sarah decided as her step widened and her gate quickened. “Where ya going baby?!” the voices yelled in sequence. Sarah Stone was terrified, the beat of her heart was now straining as the blood couldn’t be pumped fast enough to even have a chance at calming her down.
Two figures stood in front of the path when she turned the corner, two figures that flickered in the light of the moon. A face, darkness, a face, darkness. “It’s you!” Sarah screamed as the realization that these two figures were Braden Hawke and Chris Volt. She dashed for freedom, running through the bushes, sliding over the grass, screaming for help, until her foot was caught and her face was planted. She lay there, on the grass, shocked and still. “Think you’d get away huh?!” Braden screamed into her face, “Nobody can hear you but don’t worry because I won’t let you go like Christopher did, hey toph?” the man pulled her leg under his body. “Don’t you fucking touch me!” Sarah pleaded as a quiver began in her lips. Chris Volt began to speak “oh baby stop your worrying, we know what we’re doing” he winked and moved over to her still innocence.
Braden held her down, hand to shoulder hand to shoulder. Switching hands as he undid the buttons on her white blouse, ripping the whole thing apart when he couldn’t manage the last one. “STOP IT! HELP!” Sarah screamed at the top of her lungs, screaming, screaming, screaming. “Braden shut her the hell up!” Volt scolded Hawke, “move!” As Braden got up Chris moved down over her and slammed a fist to her face, “you shut the hell up or you’re going to get your face broken!” as he threatned her he undid her jean button and unzipped her fly as he ripped her jeans off pinching her thighs as he tugged furiously.
Her pants, off, her thighs, purple, her shirt, ripped, her face, bruised, her breasts, raw. Sarah kicked and screamed, managing to punch Braden in the face and kick Chris, standing up to make a run for it Chris grabbed her calf and dragged her back down to the park. “STOP IT!” Sarah screamed as the grasp floated away and she was able to stand, sprinting out of the park, red bra torn and white panties grass stained, she ran for her life only looking back, once.
She gasped as another figure was scene in a battle towards Braden and Chris, one punch to Braden and a knee to the face and he was down. Chris was slashed with a left hook and rammed to the floor to be grabbed by the collar and hit till he passed out. Sarah was astonished, but when this “superman” moved towards her position, Sarah turned around and ran once again. These memories taunted her mind as she continued to walk through this park, the scene of the crime, the figure of a man, and the scare of assault that would stay with her forever.
Written By: Megan Lizee
SLAM POETRY
Haters gonna hate, just a saying.
So true, so broad, so devastating, suffocating, and regurgitating.
A way to inflict pain on an already numbed essence,
to drool pity and decrease the hope of peace.
To cease any knowledge of equality
and increase the already non bandaged racism to bubble over into pure hatred.
Haters gonna hate, to rape a career on the notion of a bleeding rumour,
to start the commotion and breathe the potion of nothing.
No way to end the judgement.
Haters gonna hate!
A word, a phrase, demeaning somebody of any age.
The fat, the ugly, the jokes, the blunder,
rapidly moving like thunder, the hate, I wonder…
could I get your number?
Dial it up, 1 2 3,
I’d say fuck you!
Haters gonna hate!
Just because you hate Miley Cyrus doesn’t mean I care,
not out loud, not ever.
Fuck you!
These fancy ipods, iphones, iwaste time doing cool istuff,
they allow you the choice to not listen to her.
Haters gonna hate!
Sylvester Stallone ain’t a crippled bone,
slant to the side and one hell of an alibi
to you only means a shitload of movies you don’t have to buy, rent, borrow, see or purchase!
Haters gonna hate!
Surgery, ya know, the doctor fucked his mouth up.
Diploma, PHD, years of training for one bad surgery,
doctor, doctor, what a stale shocker.
He trusted a stranger with a scalpel and he got sliced.
You think he chose that? Hell no!
He chose to look past it not trash it.
A dream with decreased self-esteem,
like an uninsured crash or a police busted birthday bash.
He chose to create a script above the electronic dicks,
and you know what he got hater?!
He got a four star rated movie, and four sequels just as famous.
He became a director, ignoring the receptors, instigators, and interference re-creators.
An original, he created a career for himself and an all star action hero N.A.M.E.
Stallone got more than you hater!
Shut up and fucking listen to him cause his voice is worth fucking listening to!
Haters gonna hate, huh?
Well hate your fucking selves than cause the choice you made was to be a repulsive ass,
be known for that!
Be a repelling, ugly horn-dog or a juvenile priest, be a hater!
Fuck you!
Haters don’t gotta hate!
Your just an excuse for an unmistakable bad choice.
I say, be a dick,
but when your boners gone and your a shriveled up slap of skin in the corner,
than we’ll see who wants to make that choice.
Karma’s a bitch and she’s coming for you!
Written By Megan Lizee
So true, so broad, so devastating, suffocating, and regurgitating.
A way to inflict pain on an already numbed essence,
to drool pity and decrease the hope of peace.
To cease any knowledge of equality
and increase the already non bandaged racism to bubble over into pure hatred.
Haters gonna hate, to rape a career on the notion of a bleeding rumour,
to start the commotion and breathe the potion of nothing.
No way to end the judgement.
Haters gonna hate!
A word, a phrase, demeaning somebody of any age.
The fat, the ugly, the jokes, the blunder,
rapidly moving like thunder, the hate, I wonder…
could I get your number?
Dial it up, 1 2 3,
I’d say fuck you!
Haters gonna hate!
Just because you hate Miley Cyrus doesn’t mean I care,
not out loud, not ever.
Fuck you!
These fancy ipods, iphones, iwaste time doing cool istuff,
they allow you the choice to not listen to her.
Haters gonna hate!
Sylvester Stallone ain’t a crippled bone,
slant to the side and one hell of an alibi
to you only means a shitload of movies you don’t have to buy, rent, borrow, see or purchase!
Haters gonna hate!
Surgery, ya know, the doctor fucked his mouth up.
Diploma, PHD, years of training for one bad surgery,
doctor, doctor, what a stale shocker.
He trusted a stranger with a scalpel and he got sliced.
You think he chose that? Hell no!
He chose to look past it not trash it.
A dream with decreased self-esteem,
like an uninsured crash or a police busted birthday bash.
He chose to create a script above the electronic dicks,
and you know what he got hater?!
He got a four star rated movie, and four sequels just as famous.
He became a director, ignoring the receptors, instigators, and interference re-creators.
An original, he created a career for himself and an all star action hero N.A.M.E.
Stallone got more than you hater!
Shut up and fucking listen to him cause his voice is worth fucking listening to!
Haters gonna hate, huh?
Well hate your fucking selves than cause the choice you made was to be a repulsive ass,
be known for that!
Be a repelling, ugly horn-dog or a juvenile priest, be a hater!
Fuck you!
Haters don’t gotta hate!
Your just an excuse for an unmistakable bad choice.
I say, be a dick,
but when your boners gone and your a shriveled up slap of skin in the corner,
than we’ll see who wants to make that choice.
Karma’s a bitch and she’s coming for you!
Written By Megan Lizee
Thursday, August 11, 2011
"Disappointment is so underrated." -ML
This is one of the best quotes I have created because it works for everything, people don’t understand how their choices affect others. People don’t understand how trust breaks apart when ones word is broken or somebody fails to attend when they were so down before. People fuck up others emotions just by “changing their minds” every single day and it’s sickening to think that can affect your mood, but it does. The ways we keep in contact after highschool, it really matters, the gatherings we get invited to and the places we choose to go, it matters. When I have a BBQ, it’s just to get people together and experience that past all over again, it’s to laugh and have fun and create a place for everybody to catch up. When I plan things or invite people places it’s not cause I had extra tickets or cause I was bored or wanted a bigger group, I choose certain people because I think it would make a great memory. I think that it could brighten my day or make for alot of fun after midnight. I’m just, I guess I’m just done with making messages full of over twenty people and having almost nobody reply and nobody actually end up going. I’m just sick of it, I’m tired of my life.
Sometimes I live it up, but most of the time I just feel like an organized zombie.
I sleep in till whenever, spend hours playing Sims and checking my sites and than maybe eat some lunch and find a cozy seat on the couch. I stay up till atleast two or four in the morning every night when I had nothing to get up for in the first place and than another day begins. I feel like I’m rotting away, like there is just no reason to go anywhere or do anything. I’m too content for my own good and you’d think it’d be comforting but I think it’s closer to poison. Yesterday I woke up early to go to the beach but it was cold and the guy didn’t even show up cause I sent mixed messages, wonderful. All I want right now seems to be this one fucking guy or a party every single night to attend and dance at. An escape, something to believe in, someone to live for. I think that maybe if I got a job and had a healthier routine and a responsibility and a place to be, that things will get better. Right now, there is nowhere to be, just surrounded by sickness and doubt. It’s poisoning me and still I dream of better places. Everyday I treat stuffed animals and sparkly lizard rings as if they are my friends and I dream of somewhere else. Floating around in the pool I like to believe some hot guy is watching me and thinking about me, I like to drive around as if everybody drives by and wonders who that was, I wonder around aimlessly as if I’m still waiting for somebody to come and knock on my door, my life is a fake and my dreams are a sham. This Summer is dead to me and I just want it to be over, I’m fed up with deja vu and it makes me sick that I can’t escape just by leaving it all behind.
It's kinda one of those things where...
you know it’s probably nothing but you HAVE to go anyways. Some guy kisses you goodnight and you stay up all night thinking about it even though he had been drinking and could be with another chick, you ask him to meet your parents even though you just met and than he ignores you, but than that slim chance he talks to you again [which he does] just erases everything else and you start talking again… and just when you think your annoying him, he starts a conversation and invites you to the beach. So excited, than I woke up to the reality of shitty weather. Like really? Can’t my life be interesting for more than a couple hours? Cause that would be nice!
LIFE
It just doesn’t seem real, it’s as if everything is paused. As if I’m waiting for something and no big changes should be made until then.
“Life… is like a box of chocolates - a cheap, thoughtless, perfunctory gift that no one ever asks for, unreturnable because all you get back is another box of chocolates. So, you’re stuck with mostly undefinable whipped mint crap, mindlessly wolfed down when there’s nothing else to eat while you’re watching the game. Sure, once is a while you get a peanut butter cup or an English toffee but it’s gone too fast and the taste is fleeting. In the end, you are left with nothing but broken bits filled with hardened jelly and teeth-shattering nuts, which, if you are desperate enough to eat, leaves nothing but an empty box of useless brown paper.”
— The X-Files
Sunday, August 7, 2011
These are the two ideas I shall pursue with my henna art. The first one I want on the top of my hand instead of beneath but in the same place and the second design I just want the ring idea from. I can’t wait to get tattooed because lately all I want is change and since I can’t afford piercings I shall ink myself!
WANT LIST
- long sterling silver necklace with a cross on it
- left ear piercing [helix]
- belly button pierced
- add onto my ring collection
- 8" subwoofer
- fixed paint-job on my car
- white/translucent headlights for my car
- Douglas College apparel
- laptop cover
- nail-polish in all the colors of the rainbow to finish my collection
- Tim Horton gift cards
- superhero bed sheets/blanket cover
- body butter from the body shop
- gym membership to the woman's fitcity gym
- new bouncy ball in my room
- left ear piercing [helix]
- belly button pierced
- add onto my ring collection
- 8" subwoofer
- fixed paint-job on my car
- white/translucent headlights for my car
- Douglas College apparel
- laptop cover
- nail-polish in all the colors of the rainbow to finish my collection
- Tim Horton gift cards
- superhero bed sheets/blanket cover
- body butter from the body shop
- gym membership to the woman's fitcity gym
- new bouncy ball in my room
Every now and again I get these ideas in my head, as if created years ago and I have to write them down.
For some reason though, I cannot slip them away in some drawer or save them on my computer just for me. I have this need to share, this weakness for opinion, and my dedication to this art somehow needs to be shown to the world. The fever, frenzy and fury that goes on in my mind has to be spilled on keys and turned into sentences. The fictional and non fictional metaphors twirling with the chaos of telling them apart has to be witnessed by more than just one pair of eyes. For some mysterious reason I pluck my mind of ideas, opinions, fantasy and reality and gloat about it as if depression were a trophy or pity a congratulations speech. Somewhere during those English classes and Writing 12 I devoured an appetite for out-bursting my thoughts, worries and random plot-lines and discovered fame. My passion will cave upon me as suffering transforms into golden details and rage exaggerated into nouns, verbs and conceeded contentment. Poetry they say shows all, but, I don’t believe in writing unless it does just that. I guess some would say I’m not afraid or that I’m typical crazy, but maybe I just need the world to understand who I am before I can create a better self.
Saturday, August 6, 2011
Call it what you want.
The absence of you haunts me like the scars all over my body, like the scars you can and cannot see. The error of our ways clashing into one another like a tidal wave upon a city of millions, terror streaking through the once lit streets as they blunder under the ocean for only few to remember. The loss of you, your loss. The difference is so microscopic that I can’t even render the strength to pull them apart. A few mishaps and a million mistakes, choices I couldn’t make because the feelings were so arrogant and jealous. At the time, I ruined it all, without even imagining the reality that they could be my world at some point in the near future. The omission of the bravery, the stripped amour from my bones, the legacy of frozen doubt was all taken away from me. You burned it all down until I was naked and only needed you, only wanted you. We danced around, we slipped in memories and drowned in emotion. We stepped in puddles of the past and felt the rain pour down in desire. We were one, we were one for a very long time. Days, weeks, months, years, it was you and I everyday. We would part in long goodbyes and than text minutes later, we would tell each other stories and share magical places. We were perfect together. However, our fairytale relationship was botched, blotted, bleached and blown throughout stupid fights and strong opinions. We wrecked it until want wasn’t enough. Our love trickled down into the sewer until all that was left was floating trash and you burned that down too. As I sit here now, relishing in our overlooked past, my heart aches for you. We were together much to long for two months to clear everything up. I still fumble around my house to find windows when I hear roller blades or dogs barking, I still wish on every star for your appearance to be at my door, I still trip and stumble when I cross over to your town and remember everything we did there. I still wander into my room and shut my eyes when memories of you flash into my mind, even just driving down the street or more than half the bands I listen to. You were my everything, now your gone. I am left in repair, demolished at my heart and retired through my soul. I don’t mean to make a fuss baby but there isn’t a cure that exists in this day and age for that. Sweetheart, with all my flesh and blood, with every bone and every muscle, I just can’t say goodbye again. If this destroys the both of us, I hope my star finds yours, because I believe we would be the brightest ones in the sky.
This is just an updated picture of myself because I love my new haircut! I love how my bangs look now and the layered look when my hair is straightened. This is me trying to look nice for job hunting, it’s kinda funny to try so hard but at the same time a first appearance really matters in this case. Hopefully it gets me something!
Saturday, Saturday, Saturday night's alright.
Alrighty well here I am again up late, the usual. However, cool thought, if I worked at Boston Pizza I could be working till 2am and than staying up late would be useful cause I don’t get cranky like most people and they would love me for it. Anyways, later on today (since it’s 2am Saturday morning) I get to paint railings with my sister and hopefully all goes well. My Humpback Whale will come in the mail within the next two weeks and hopefully a phone call saying “Megan, you got the job” somewhere this month. I need a job before school, please please please.
My T.G.I.F. was spent job hunting.
I went to Boston Pizza cause a friend told me about a sign out front. So I woke up and got all dressed up and straightened my hair and everything, printed out resumes, stapled them and head out. When I got to Boston Pizza a nice blonde lady greeted me and ended up asking me to stay if I had time, I gladly accepted and was given an interview by a large chef and a small chef. The humor was kinda funny but anyways I think the interview was a bit nervous on my part but overall pretty good. I have my foods safe, I can work with teams, I’m fine under pressure and my last job was in a bakery so I’m good with food. The job listed was cook or prep cook and I would be fine working in the kitchen, even if they put me as dishwasher when it got really busy. I don’t care, I need a job and I like that environment and the ideal would be to move up to the bar when I’m of age and have my courses completed. This is just a good opportunity and I hope I don’t miss out on it. I also applied to Blenz Coffee and I will be handing a resume off at Coopers for the cappochino bar or bakery. I just need a job. I need to keep busy as routine is very important to me, and without it I guess I find myself depressed. It would be nice to get going on life again I suppose.
Thursday, August 4, 2011
Iced capp at night, iced capp in late afternoon, what’s the difference anyway?
I stay up till dawn seemingly without a cause. I guess I just don’t need reason anymore since misery never answered. I knocked on his door, I begged him to stay, I gave him a choice and he cursed me anyway. Simple riddles can even answer the greatest mysteries but than where do you go? Once you’ve played detective and compiled all the reasons as to why you have a lead smile what are you supposed to do? Pick one. I don’t even think Batman could choose one simple glowing piece of matter to derail happiness. It takes more than one thing to permanently ban a smile and enforce a frown. It’s never as simple and easy as it seems, it’s not something pounds of ice cream can fix. This isn’t a job for a lollipop or a doctor, nothing for a trained marine or special forces, nothing even a mother can sew. This is a haunting, a haunting the Winchesters could never discover, salt and burn. This is not unnatural or supernatural, this was planned.
“People are often unreasonable and self-centered. Forgive them anyway. If you are kind, people may accuse you of ulterior motives. Be kind anyway. If you are honest, people may cheat you. Be honest anyway. If you find happiness, people may be jealous. Be happy anyway. The good you do today may be forgotten tomorrow. Do good anyway. Give the world the best you have and it may never be enough. Give your best anyway. For you see, in the end, it is between you and God. It was never between you and them anyway.”
— Mother Teresa
The only thing every daughter wants to hear.
[show my dad the Anniversary cake I made]
Dad: Wow, sparkly and everything. That's very impressive.
Dad: Wow, sparkly and everything. That's very impressive.
The Parasite in Me:
Something is rotting inside me and hollowing me out, a microscopic parasite filling me with hopes, wants and desires. Bruising me with dreams and endless faith. A parasite, a sticky bug withering me away to the depths of isolation. A leech feeding off of my memories and slamming them into me day by day, slicing through my guard and chewing away at my will. Some alien bloodsucker draining everything I have left until I fall from the stone I lay upon, till I dry out like a slug under salt. Some flunky, deadbeat stooge thinking it can get the best of me, thinking it can devour everything from the inside out. Motherfucker, you are wrong. It is called a soul, it’s the lock and key of able bodied men, it’s the unstoppable force against all matter in the universe. The soul, it’s the carrier of the sword and the stone. It is magic, it is thoughts, it is physical and it is unseen. The soul is armored, unbreakable, indestructible, firm, solid, durable, everlasting, however penetrable. It’s weakness though, is not in the fact that it can be penetrated, that it can be felt. It’s weakness it not in the love it ties with other individuals or the death that haunts it when they go. It’s weakness is not in losing a fight or surrendering to a stronger being. It’s weakness is not in being scared and running away, it’s weakness is not in hiding or in sin. It’s weakness only makes it stronger. Little parasite, eat away all you want, but when my soul gathers enough energy it will only implode and grow larger. The beam will only strengthen and glow throughout the night and the eye will only look farther into the distance. You may be able to slow me down, but your only allowing me a break so I can sprint farther next time. You will lose. You will lose like you always do, little barbarian.
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
Gateau De Lizee: back in business.
This cake is for my friends one month Anniversary with her boyfriend. I used to decorate beautiful cakes all the time for friends and my family’s co-workers but it stressed me out so much that I just stopped. Today I spent seven hours slaving away in the kitchen making this cake and cupcakes because she also wanted three cupcakes. It took a long time and now my feet hurt and I’m just warm. Today was so hot it seemed I couldn’t make the icing thick enough for the roses to keep shape but anyways I thing that kept me going with cake decorating was the turn out. It goes something like this picture and it’s just beautiful, which reminds me of the talent and possibilities I still have to this day. I’m very proud of myself and tomorrow I’ll collect my money and be on my merry way.
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
It's as if I'm no longer afraid to get hit by a car.
It’s the faint lights headed for me as I stroll across the highway. I don’t care to die, but I also don’t care to maintain this life. It’s the act of wandering around aimlessly at night knowing all the public dangers surrounding me and just not caring to go back inside. It’s the daring effects of driving too fast down the highway and not slowing down for amber lights. It’s the sound of screeching tires and landing in the middle of an intersection on a red light and just shaking it off like I meant it to end that way. It’s the imagined scenarios of getting beaten up till I crawl away, or getting tortured until somebody walks in and saves the day. It’s the hope of getting torn apart by a werewolf only to become one, or to get bit vocals deep by a vampire so I can suck another’s blood dry. It’s allowing the man I used to write poetry about to use me for his sexual desires and than drive on home as if it’s all I wanted from him. It’s getting ignored by the people I need right now and introverting to a dangerous place. It’s escaping this nightmare of a reality with romantic movies and pretending like one day it’ll happen as if promised to me. It’s staring at bottles of liquor and wanting to drink them every night but stopping at the thought that I don’t have the money to replace them once their gone. It’s as if I look forward to saying it’s been two months to the day, because maybe if I convince myself enough time has gone by than it’ll be okay. It’s as if I’ve convinced myself that something has died on this earth, something very dear to me and all I can do is stay inside my bedroom walls and dream of a better place. It’s as if… something has been taken away; a part of my soul.
Someday - Nickelback
This song is pretty much one of my top three favorite songs of all time. When I was in grade 7 I listened to it everyday on the way to school and everyday on the way home from school. I just love the concept of not fixing something in the moment but knowing that it’ll be okay later, something like that. I just love this song. Nickelback is one of my favorite bands of all time and this song is just classic Nickelback and it’s never going to be “old” to me because the memories last forever. Even the music video I love too because my favorite music videos are the ones that actually tell a story, and this clearly does. Thank you Nickelback, I really do enjoy your methods to melodies ratio.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)