Original Suggestion: A father, wife, son and daughter at the dinner table when two gun shots go off
Suggested By: Chris Gutekunst (@CRGutekunst)
It was a typical evening in the Rancor residence. Mother was preparing the dinner table; Myself on the steps playing with my toys; Father and my sister we sitting in the living room, reading by the fireplace, the cackling and cracking of the wood a reminder of how cold it really was outside. It had been one of the coldest winters by far, at least in my memory. There was almost no snow to be seen, but the bitter air left our little corner of the neighborhood frozen to the core.
As it neared six o'clock, mother rings us to dinner. We gather around in the same seats as always; Father at the helm, sitting with his back to the window, which showed our tiny backyard, the beaten fence that covers us from the alleyway beyond out plot. Across from him is mother, doing her best to ignore the mess in the living room that I had just left by the staircase. To her right is my sister, disgusted in the meal that lay before us (she was a very picky eater, and never had much of an appetite). And my seat sat across from her, back towards the entryway to the tiny, dirty kitchen. I try to eat a slowly as possible, knowing that once out meal is over, it is my duty to clean up everything.
The normal dinner talk took over the rest of the evening. Father began complaining (again) about the state of the office he works in; the incompetence of some of his fellow workmates, and going on and on about how much he hates his bosses. Same old, same old. Mother didn't have too much to go on about. She seemed to have exhausted her supply of drama and gossip over dinner the previous night. I remember hearing something about the neighbor lady and a very sultry conversation she was having with the postman. I wasn't really paying attention to be honest. I never show too much interest in anything my parents have to say, as it normally is nothing of importance to me anyway.
Father was just about to ask my sister and I about our days in school, when a weird bang interrupted him. Something has just happened outside, but what, none of us knew. We waited a few moments, but didn't hear it again. We assumed it was a car backfiring or running over the pothole in the street, as is usually the case. As my father opened his mouth again to speak, we heard the bang again, this time in two quick succession. My father, with a note of hesitation, told us to stay as he jumped from his chair and ran outside to see what was the matter. We aren't quite sure what happened from there, but father came back inside, unable to discover the source of the disturbance.
We finished eating, I cleaned up the mess in the kitchen, and then ran up to my room to get ready for bed. I went to my window, as I do every night, and looked out into the nighttime sky. I sat there much longer than I usually do, so enthralled in the dark sky, with it tiny sprinkle of stars cast throughout the deepening vastness; the faint glow from the distant city beyond the horizon. Peace. I looked down towards the backyard and saw something rather curious just beyond the fence by the alleyway. Someone was lurking just on the other side by the trashcans, as if trying to look for something, or hide whatever was in his hands.
It was nearing eleven. So, as quietly as I possibly could, I made my way downstairs, careful not to step on the creaky floorboard at the top of the steps, so not to wake up mother and father. I wasn't sure what this person was doing outside our fence, but my curiosity told me to take a look. Even from my window, the person looked vaguely familiar. But without a good look at his face, I couldn't quite put my finger on who it was.
I scampered through the kitchen and out the back door, careful not to let it slam shut behind me. I crept through the yard, feeling as if the tiny lot had suddenly bloomed into a deep, overgrown jungle. Finally, I reached the fence in the rear of the yard. Walking along it, I reached the spot where I knew there was a tiny, hallowed out knot in the wood so I could peer into the alley, virtually noticeably.
I looked left and right down the alleyway, but could not see any sign of the stranger. I looked down for a moment because I thought I had felt something around my ankles. Possibly just a bug crawling around. When I looked up again, I let out a huge gasp and ran back towards the house. An unknown eye had been peering right back towards me.
Not caring about subtlety this time, I flew through the kitchen, up the stairs, and burst into my parents room. I was blithering, talking so fast that I wasn't making any sense. Father did my best to calm me down, and mother brought me a glass of water. After a few minutes, I tried to explain what I just saw, but neither believed me. I wouldn't give up, but still, they wouldn't hear it, telling me it was just a nightmare. Finally, I grabbed father by the hand and dragged him downstairs and out to the backyard. It all happened so fast. He opened the gate to the alley, took a couple steps, then a deafening bang cracked through the silent night, and father collapsed in a heap. I scream, and cried, and fell over the unmoving mass, now lying in a sticky pool of it's own blood.
We found out later that the stranger was actually the neighbor, waiting for the "unknown suitor" of his wife's to come back after he shot out at him earlier in the evening. Being the nervous man that he was, he shot at the first person to enter the alley.
Another senseless killing.
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
Trapped in a Cage
Original Suggestion: Puppies in Space
Suggested by: Kevin Pitts (@kevinmpitts)
It was a beautiful Thursday morning. Bright blue skies, no wind, perfect temperature. Ideal conditions for one of the last shuttle missions in the history of NASA. This particular launch, however, remained fairly secret. The reason? The controversy.
With the fear of backlash brought upon by PETA, NASA kept this particular mission under wraps, as they would be sending animals into space to test the effects that the new space station, and all of it's tremendous scientific advancements, would have on animals. Dogs, to be more specific. Despite all of the other missions they had done involving animals, this mission remained vital to NASA's research, as the believed dogs would help humans with various tasks in space, just as they don on solid ground. But, the question remained: will the dogs be safe on their trip? And how will they react to their new environment once they reached their destination?
So the mission was set, the subjects chosen and ready to go. For obvious reasons, the dogs will be joined by two men to take care of them while they were in route. They would also be observing the dogs' behavior while on board the station.
The men strapped the dogs in, ready for their month long endeavor into the depths of the final frontier. They set themselves at the helm of the ship, readying themselves for lift off.
"You ready, Jonathan?"
"As ready as ever, Pete."
"Houston," said Pete. "All systems, check. The subjects are set, let's get this started already."
"Roger. Prepare for launch. Initiating launch sequence."
10...9...8...7...6...5...
Pete and Jonathan gave one last look to each other. Neither were happy about their mission. But as important as it was, they took it as seriously (in appearance, at least) as any other.
4...3...2...1. Liftoff!
The rocket burst upward in a glorious cloud of smoke and fire. Higher and higher they rose into the sky, trailing behind them a stream of fumes and rocket parts began to fall away. Traveling higher and higher, the smoke billowing behind them, they finally reached the outer atmosphere. The first part of the mission was a success.
"Houston, everything has gone according to plan," said Pete. "Going to check on the subjects to see how they handled lift-off."
"Roger. Report back when you have the results."
"Take control, Jonathan. I'll go take a look."
"Whatever," said Jonathan.
Pete disengaged his belts to head down to where the dogs were strapped in. As he opened the door, he expected to hear them barking and whining. Instead, he was greeted with a cold silence. He checked each dog noting how they all looked, their breathing, etc.The first two, German Shepherds, seemed fine. The Retriever also seemed healthy. He reached the fourth cage, the Chocolate Labradors, to find the dog hasn't moved since they had strapped her down. He reached in her cage to check her out. To his dismay, she was not breathing. The thrust from the launch, coupled with they dogs system of straps had caused her to panic, and at some point, die. Pete made the necessary notes in his journal, telling what was wrong and how to avoid this end next time.
As he reached the fifth cage, Pete noticed something strange in this dogs eyes. The Rottweiler was staring at him, following his every move. Pete went to reach inside to make sure it was o.k., but the dog barred it's teeth and him and started to growl. Pete hastily backed away, wrote down some information in his journal, and retreated back to Jonathan in the cockpit.
"So, how'd we do so far, Pete?" asked Jonathan.
"The Shepherds and Retriever are fine. The Lab didn't make it. We'll have to put her down in the cold storage to keep her safe until we get back."
"Or we could just launch the bitch out to space," Jonathan said with a sneer.
"You know we can't do that," said Pete. "The vets will do their thing on how and why she passes when we get back."
"Right, whatever. How about the Rottweiler?"
"She seemed o.k.. Scared the hell out of me, though. Just started at me the whole time, and damn near took a bite out of me when I reached in to check on her."
"Probably just scared," said Jonathan. "Just let it be until we get a little farther and we need to feed them."
"Sounds good. I'll get on the horn and report back."
As time went on, Jonathan and Pete both took turns checking in on the dogs, Jonathan a little more reluctantly than Pete, not really caring for the animals as much as Pete did. He generally wasn't much of a dog person, not after having been bitten by his own dog as a child, then having to witness it being put down. Pete, on the other hand, was always fond of any animal. He aspired to be a veterinarian as a child, but found his fascination with outer space to be something better to follow through with.
Neither man found any problems as they checked in and took care of the dogs. They both noted, however, that the Rottweiler always acted the same whenever the entered the room. Never blinking, not eating much, and never letting Pete nor Jonathan linger too long around it's cage. Neither man was able to tell exactly what was wrong with it, and none were willing to find out so not to get a chunk taken out of them by the beast.
It wasn't much longer than that things really started to seem strange. Jonathan and Pete started having communication problems back with NASA, all the dogs started acting like the Rottweiler, and once in a while Pete would notice something was missing from his quarters, but never knowing what it was since it seemed like something different every time he had those feelings.
Jonathan wasn't much help in Pete's suspicions. He only thought about getting to the station and getting these experiments over with. One afternoon, though, Jonathan came running back to the cockpit, both hands covered in blood.
"Dude, another dog is dead. And the Rottweiler was out of his cage somehow. Took everything I could to get it away from that Shepherd. Have you had this problem before?"
"Not at all," said Pete. "I have more bad news though. Something has cut the power again for our communication back home. You think that Rottweiler had something to do with it?"
"It's very possible," said Jonathan. "I saw a lot of exposed wiring in their section of the ship. Too much damage to know what is out though."
"We need to go in there and find out," Pete said, a note of hesitation in his voice. "There's no fixing it if you don't go."
"Fine, but I'm taking something with me just in case."
Pete and Jonathan started making their way to where the dogs were kept. Once they reached the door, though, they could hear one of the dogs whining more than usual. As they reached to open the door, they heard a crunch, a short whine, and then silence.
They both wretched the door open. There was nothing inside. The dogs were all missing, there was more exposed wiring and the vent leading out of the room was ripped off of the wall. As they looked around, they noticed a few drops of blood around the Shepherds cage, leading away towards the vent.
"How could they get up there?" asked Jonathan. "That's gotta be a good five or six feet off the ground."
"I don't know," said Pete." Wait... listen."
As they got closer to the vent, they could hear a faint clicking, like a dogs claw on a hard floor.
"Is that... where does this vent head towards?" asked Pete.
"It sounds like it was heading toward the sleeping quarters," said Jonathan.
"C'mon. Let's check it out."
They left the dogs room, when suddenly the lights in the ship went out. From behind them, they heard a low, mean, growl.
Pete and Jonathan had no idea what to do. They stood there, frozen. It wasn't until Pete heard the thud of Jonathan hitting the floor did he gather his senses, and started running. He ran down the hall, and threw himself into a room off to the left. He hated having left Jonathan behind, but there was nothing he could do. He found himself in the sleeping quarters. Not sure where to go from here, he barricaded himself inside, and began pacing the room, feeling like a trapped animal.
He stopped. He could hear the growling from the hall, becoming louder, and louder, until it was right outside the room. This was it, no where to go. Suddenly, Pete felt something around his ankles, he searched around to find the Rottweiler, pining for his attention, as if something scared it to hiding in this room. How it got in here, Pete had no idea. All he could think of was if the Rottweiler was in here... what was outside the room?
He continued to search the room, until he found another gruesome sight. The second Shepherd, or what was left of it, was found underneath one of the bunks. Now Pete was really freaked out. What else was on the ship? Nothing got in that he could think of. The room started to grow colder. The Rottweiler staying at Pete's side the whole time...
A year later, a fisherman was sailing off the coast of Cocoa Beach, Florida, when he spotted something in the night sky, heading towards the water. With a splash, the ship hit the water, sending a giant wave toward the coast, and nearly capsizing the the boat. He immediately radioed the Coast Guard, telling him what he just witnessed. Hours later, they searched the lost ship from that failed mission. It was completely void of any signs of the crew, or the animals.
Suggested by: Kevin Pitts (@kevinmpitts)
It was a beautiful Thursday morning. Bright blue skies, no wind, perfect temperature. Ideal conditions for one of the last shuttle missions in the history of NASA. This particular launch, however, remained fairly secret. The reason? The controversy.
With the fear of backlash brought upon by PETA, NASA kept this particular mission under wraps, as they would be sending animals into space to test the effects that the new space station, and all of it's tremendous scientific advancements, would have on animals. Dogs, to be more specific. Despite all of the other missions they had done involving animals, this mission remained vital to NASA's research, as the believed dogs would help humans with various tasks in space, just as they don on solid ground. But, the question remained: will the dogs be safe on their trip? And how will they react to their new environment once they reached their destination?
So the mission was set, the subjects chosen and ready to go. For obvious reasons, the dogs will be joined by two men to take care of them while they were in route. They would also be observing the dogs' behavior while on board the station.
The men strapped the dogs in, ready for their month long endeavor into the depths of the final frontier. They set themselves at the helm of the ship, readying themselves for lift off.
"You ready, Jonathan?"
"As ready as ever, Pete."
"Houston," said Pete. "All systems, check. The subjects are set, let's get this started already."
"Roger. Prepare for launch. Initiating launch sequence."
10...9...8...7...6...5...
Pete and Jonathan gave one last look to each other. Neither were happy about their mission. But as important as it was, they took it as seriously (in appearance, at least) as any other.
4...3...2...1. Liftoff!
The rocket burst upward in a glorious cloud of smoke and fire. Higher and higher they rose into the sky, trailing behind them a stream of fumes and rocket parts began to fall away. Traveling higher and higher, the smoke billowing behind them, they finally reached the outer atmosphere. The first part of the mission was a success.
"Houston, everything has gone according to plan," said Pete. "Going to check on the subjects to see how they handled lift-off."
"Roger. Report back when you have the results."
"Take control, Jonathan. I'll go take a look."
"Whatever," said Jonathan.
Pete disengaged his belts to head down to where the dogs were strapped in. As he opened the door, he expected to hear them barking and whining. Instead, he was greeted with a cold silence. He checked each dog noting how they all looked, their breathing, etc.The first two, German Shepherds, seemed fine. The Retriever also seemed healthy. He reached the fourth cage, the Chocolate Labradors, to find the dog hasn't moved since they had strapped her down. He reached in her cage to check her out. To his dismay, she was not breathing. The thrust from the launch, coupled with they dogs system of straps had caused her to panic, and at some point, die. Pete made the necessary notes in his journal, telling what was wrong and how to avoid this end next time.
As he reached the fifth cage, Pete noticed something strange in this dogs eyes. The Rottweiler was staring at him, following his every move. Pete went to reach inside to make sure it was o.k., but the dog barred it's teeth and him and started to growl. Pete hastily backed away, wrote down some information in his journal, and retreated back to Jonathan in the cockpit.
"So, how'd we do so far, Pete?" asked Jonathan.
"The Shepherds and Retriever are fine. The Lab didn't make it. We'll have to put her down in the cold storage to keep her safe until we get back."
"Or we could just launch the bitch out to space," Jonathan said with a sneer.
"You know we can't do that," said Pete. "The vets will do their thing on how and why she passes when we get back."
"Right, whatever. How about the Rottweiler?"
"She seemed o.k.. Scared the hell out of me, though. Just started at me the whole time, and damn near took a bite out of me when I reached in to check on her."
"Probably just scared," said Jonathan. "Just let it be until we get a little farther and we need to feed them."
"Sounds good. I'll get on the horn and report back."
As time went on, Jonathan and Pete both took turns checking in on the dogs, Jonathan a little more reluctantly than Pete, not really caring for the animals as much as Pete did. He generally wasn't much of a dog person, not after having been bitten by his own dog as a child, then having to witness it being put down. Pete, on the other hand, was always fond of any animal. He aspired to be a veterinarian as a child, but found his fascination with outer space to be something better to follow through with.
Neither man found any problems as they checked in and took care of the dogs. They both noted, however, that the Rottweiler always acted the same whenever the entered the room. Never blinking, not eating much, and never letting Pete nor Jonathan linger too long around it's cage. Neither man was able to tell exactly what was wrong with it, and none were willing to find out so not to get a chunk taken out of them by the beast.
It wasn't much longer than that things really started to seem strange. Jonathan and Pete started having communication problems back with NASA, all the dogs started acting like the Rottweiler, and once in a while Pete would notice something was missing from his quarters, but never knowing what it was since it seemed like something different every time he had those feelings.
Jonathan wasn't much help in Pete's suspicions. He only thought about getting to the station and getting these experiments over with. One afternoon, though, Jonathan came running back to the cockpit, both hands covered in blood.
"Dude, another dog is dead. And the Rottweiler was out of his cage somehow. Took everything I could to get it away from that Shepherd. Have you had this problem before?"
"Not at all," said Pete. "I have more bad news though. Something has cut the power again for our communication back home. You think that Rottweiler had something to do with it?"
"It's very possible," said Jonathan. "I saw a lot of exposed wiring in their section of the ship. Too much damage to know what is out though."
"We need to go in there and find out," Pete said, a note of hesitation in his voice. "There's no fixing it if you don't go."
"Fine, but I'm taking something with me just in case."
Pete and Jonathan started making their way to where the dogs were kept. Once they reached the door, though, they could hear one of the dogs whining more than usual. As they reached to open the door, they heard a crunch, a short whine, and then silence.
They both wretched the door open. There was nothing inside. The dogs were all missing, there was more exposed wiring and the vent leading out of the room was ripped off of the wall. As they looked around, they noticed a few drops of blood around the Shepherds cage, leading away towards the vent.
"How could they get up there?" asked Jonathan. "That's gotta be a good five or six feet off the ground."
"I don't know," said Pete." Wait... listen."
As they got closer to the vent, they could hear a faint clicking, like a dogs claw on a hard floor.
"Is that... where does this vent head towards?" asked Pete.
"It sounds like it was heading toward the sleeping quarters," said Jonathan.
"C'mon. Let's check it out."
They left the dogs room, when suddenly the lights in the ship went out. From behind them, they heard a low, mean, growl.
Pete and Jonathan had no idea what to do. They stood there, frozen. It wasn't until Pete heard the thud of Jonathan hitting the floor did he gather his senses, and started running. He ran down the hall, and threw himself into a room off to the left. He hated having left Jonathan behind, but there was nothing he could do. He found himself in the sleeping quarters. Not sure where to go from here, he barricaded himself inside, and began pacing the room, feeling like a trapped animal.
He stopped. He could hear the growling from the hall, becoming louder, and louder, until it was right outside the room. This was it, no where to go. Suddenly, Pete felt something around his ankles, he searched around to find the Rottweiler, pining for his attention, as if something scared it to hiding in this room. How it got in here, Pete had no idea. All he could think of was if the Rottweiler was in here... what was outside the room?
He continued to search the room, until he found another gruesome sight. The second Shepherd, or what was left of it, was found underneath one of the bunks. Now Pete was really freaked out. What else was on the ship? Nothing got in that he could think of. The room started to grow colder. The Rottweiler staying at Pete's side the whole time...
A year later, a fisherman was sailing off the coast of Cocoa Beach, Florida, when he spotted something in the night sky, heading towards the water. With a splash, the ship hit the water, sending a giant wave toward the coast, and nearly capsizing the the boat. He immediately radioed the Coast Guard, telling him what he just witnessed. Hours later, they searched the lost ship from that failed mission. It was completely void of any signs of the crew, or the animals.
Sunday, February 19, 2012
The Trees
(This story that you will be reading is true. In my Feature Writing class that I took in my last semester at the University of Akron, we were given the ability to free write on a topic we all discussed and agreed upon during our last class of the year. We were given 30 minutes to write as much we could, and after that 30 minutes, we must stop. We then all read our stories to the class. After I read my story, I was given the greatest reaction to any story that I have ever written... silence.
The topic of that class was "Our Neighborhood." What follows from here may not be word for word what I had written, but it is damn near close to it. It stuck in my heart for a long time. I haven't looked at it for so long, not even knowing where I put it since that class, I still remember it like it was yesterday. Enjoy).
Like in most neighborhoods, change is inevitable. The people change; the politics change. My neighborhood is no different.
My childhood home has changed a ton over the years, and for what I feel is for the worst. I remember a time when nothing outside our little kingdom mattered. The view was perfect for the younger me to enjoy, for you couldn't see the monster that is the outside world. The trees in my yard, so tall and protective, keeping all the insidiousness of those who intend to harm my family and myself on the outside, where it belonged.
Those trees were my wall, and yet my plaything. My brothers and I spent countless hours climbing and running around it's trunks. It was our oasis; something to do, somewhere to go, when we didn't want to sit inside anymore. It was a time for us to bond and become as close as we ever had before. Even as we grew older, and we grew apart, those trees were still there to protect us; to keep our struggles and our lives our own.
But there came a time when those trees had to be cut down, and not by choice. And as they came crashing down, our privacy became the knowledge of the outside world, and the horrors of the outside world entered our paradigm. We could see everything. The cars whizzing by as they struck each other, leaving pieces scattered throughout the street. The drunks, walking by the house, getting into fights with the neighbors or with themselves, sending bodies flying, into the authorities trying to keep things in check. The bike riders, enjoying their time out while it was nice, only to be left on the side of the road to die as those bastards who couldn't even give a shit strikes them and drive away without so much as a blink of the eye to see what they had just caused. The death, the forgotten, dilapidated memorials, the hideousness that is the real world flooding in.
This is how we became who we are, because of the horrors and reality of our world changing our view of what is waiting beyond our grove. Change creates a fear within us. We yearn for those times when things were simpler, where we had no cares in the world except what was within our own little world. And once that opens up and we broaden our boundaries, we are thrown into this new world that we aren't ready to fight.
Though the trees are torn down around us, we must not fear what is on the outside. We can't control those around us to make it the world we wish it should be. All we can do is live with the pains, with the loathing, the death. We must plant new trees, if anything but to keep ourselves sane.
You never know what the life outside those trees can bring. Hopefully, you can find the change in yourself, and flourish within that brand new world that you are growing.
The topic of that class was "Our Neighborhood." What follows from here may not be word for word what I had written, but it is damn near close to it. It stuck in my heart for a long time. I haven't looked at it for so long, not even knowing where I put it since that class, I still remember it like it was yesterday. Enjoy).
Like in most neighborhoods, change is inevitable. The people change; the politics change. My neighborhood is no different.
My childhood home has changed a ton over the years, and for what I feel is for the worst. I remember a time when nothing outside our little kingdom mattered. The view was perfect for the younger me to enjoy, for you couldn't see the monster that is the outside world. The trees in my yard, so tall and protective, keeping all the insidiousness of those who intend to harm my family and myself on the outside, where it belonged.
Those trees were my wall, and yet my plaything. My brothers and I spent countless hours climbing and running around it's trunks. It was our oasis; something to do, somewhere to go, when we didn't want to sit inside anymore. It was a time for us to bond and become as close as we ever had before. Even as we grew older, and we grew apart, those trees were still there to protect us; to keep our struggles and our lives our own.
But there came a time when those trees had to be cut down, and not by choice. And as they came crashing down, our privacy became the knowledge of the outside world, and the horrors of the outside world entered our paradigm. We could see everything. The cars whizzing by as they struck each other, leaving pieces scattered throughout the street. The drunks, walking by the house, getting into fights with the neighbors or with themselves, sending bodies flying, into the authorities trying to keep things in check. The bike riders, enjoying their time out while it was nice, only to be left on the side of the road to die as those bastards who couldn't even give a shit strikes them and drive away without so much as a blink of the eye to see what they had just caused. The death, the forgotten, dilapidated memorials, the hideousness that is the real world flooding in.
This is how we became who we are, because of the horrors and reality of our world changing our view of what is waiting beyond our grove. Change creates a fear within us. We yearn for those times when things were simpler, where we had no cares in the world except what was within our own little world. And once that opens up and we broaden our boundaries, we are thrown into this new world that we aren't ready to fight.
Though the trees are torn down around us, we must not fear what is on the outside. We can't control those around us to make it the world we wish it should be. All we can do is live with the pains, with the loathing, the death. We must plant new trees, if anything but to keep ourselves sane.
You never know what the life outside those trees can bring. Hopefully, you can find the change in yourself, and flourish within that brand new world that you are growing.
Out of Line Comment via Social Media
Suggested by: James Monastra (visit his blog at printedvisuals.blogspot.com)
Status Update: So glad I get to relax today! Working hard lately. Not much time for myself, so I'm spending today along in my bed doing whatever I want!
This is the update I put on my profile recently after having spent the past few days working tirelessly into the night. It doesn't bother me much. It;s the busy season, so it comes as no surprise. As long as the paychecks are good, I have no complaints.
So I go through with my plans for the day: sit on the computer for a bit, catch up on some television shows I missed due to work, and finish a bit more of a book that I've been trying to get through. After a while, I decide to see what some of my friends are up to online.
As I log on to the computer, I see the notification icon lit up. Someone must have comment on my last post. I click the icon and see that one of my friends comment on the status update I had left. I go to it, and instantly become upset. It reads:
You would stay in bed all day, you lazy fag. How many guys you have with you this time?? lol lol
I was confused. I know my "friend" likes to joke around a lot, but sometimes his jokes go a little too far. This one, though, whether joke or not, really struck a chord. I don't know why, but it really left an impression on me. I may act a little eccentric sometimes, but it's all in good fun. Believe me, I'm not gay in the slightest, but I do have some good friends that are and we've all had some great times together. Never anything like that, mind you. I understand and appreciate why the do and like what they do, just as I understand and appreciate why anyone does and likes anything they do. It's doesn't bother me in the slightest.
I've heard my friend throw that work around a lot. Usually it isn't directed towards anyone in particular, but he does use it quite often. Thinking back, I realized that every time he has used that word, I feel a slight pang in my guy and get really agitated, like I want to punch the one that said it.
I've held myself back up until now, but I can no longer hold it in. What is wrong with being gay? Why do we as a nation find it so taboo? I know we are moving in the right direction as of late, but that still isn't going to change the fact that people are afraid of it. Why are we so afraid of moving away from the "norm," that any difference from our beliefs and likes that are shown in this world warrants such abusive and aggressive behavior? It's not going to solve anything by being so ignorant and forcing what you think the world should be like. It's only going to make you look more like an ass to anyone who thinks differently of you.
And why do you even care in the first place? It has no direct effect on your life, so why let it get to you? If you feel so strongly in the negative about it, then believe me, most anyone else, including myself, are better off without your company. Your negative energy need not weigh down on my being. You can go and be the arrogant, and self-righteous jerk that you are and leave the rest of to live how we intend to live... but our own means.
Status Update: So glad I get to relax today! Working hard lately. Not much time for myself, so I'm spending today along in my bed doing whatever I want!
This is the update I put on my profile recently after having spent the past few days working tirelessly into the night. It doesn't bother me much. It;s the busy season, so it comes as no surprise. As long as the paychecks are good, I have no complaints.
So I go through with my plans for the day: sit on the computer for a bit, catch up on some television shows I missed due to work, and finish a bit more of a book that I've been trying to get through. After a while, I decide to see what some of my friends are up to online.
As I log on to the computer, I see the notification icon lit up. Someone must have comment on my last post. I click the icon and see that one of my friends comment on the status update I had left. I go to it, and instantly become upset. It reads:
You would stay in bed all day, you lazy fag. How many guys you have with you this time?? lol lol
I was confused. I know my "friend" likes to joke around a lot, but sometimes his jokes go a little too far. This one, though, whether joke or not, really struck a chord. I don't know why, but it really left an impression on me. I may act a little eccentric sometimes, but it's all in good fun. Believe me, I'm not gay in the slightest, but I do have some good friends that are and we've all had some great times together. Never anything like that, mind you. I understand and appreciate why the do and like what they do, just as I understand and appreciate why anyone does and likes anything they do. It's doesn't bother me in the slightest.
I've heard my friend throw that work around a lot. Usually it isn't directed towards anyone in particular, but he does use it quite often. Thinking back, I realized that every time he has used that word, I feel a slight pang in my guy and get really agitated, like I want to punch the one that said it.
I've held myself back up until now, but I can no longer hold it in. What is wrong with being gay? Why do we as a nation find it so taboo? I know we are moving in the right direction as of late, but that still isn't going to change the fact that people are afraid of it. Why are we so afraid of moving away from the "norm," that any difference from our beliefs and likes that are shown in this world warrants such abusive and aggressive behavior? It's not going to solve anything by being so ignorant and forcing what you think the world should be like. It's only going to make you look more like an ass to anyone who thinks differently of you.
And why do you even care in the first place? It has no direct effect on your life, so why let it get to you? If you feel so strongly in the negative about it, then believe me, most anyone else, including myself, are better off without your company. Your negative energy need not weigh down on my being. You can go and be the arrogant, and self-righteous jerk that you are and leave the rest of to live how we intend to live... but our own means.
Thursday, February 16, 2012
A Man Wakes up in a Small Row Boat in the Middle of the Ocean
Suggested by: Cathy Beasley
Where am I?
Oh... I’m still here .
He has lost track of time. How long would be remain afloat upon this vast, desolate body? Time could no longer tell..
He picked up his oars again and continued on. To where, he had no clue. That didn’t matter anymore. Somewhere... anywhere. It surely had to be better than this hellish isolation.
As he rowed toward the unknown, his eyes caught the stains of blood on the handle of his oar. Memories quickly fading into the darkness of the struggle he’s had up until now. His whole life, it seems, has been a struggle.
He keeps pushing, and pushing. Pushing through the pain; the agony. One stroke after another, he keeps pushing, until he can no longer move his arms. He collapses again, like so many other times before, in extreme exhaustion.
I’ve never given up before. I’m not going to stop now.
Slowly, he gathers himself, and rises.
This is not the end.
With all his might, he continues on his fatal quest. It’s nearing midday, but it seems uncharacteristically dark. The water begins to churn. The winds pick up.
He hesitates for a moment. A whisper echos in his mind, bringing with it memories of his family.
I will see them again someday. I will make it through this. I must find my way.
The skies darken. Thunder and lightening rumble and flash overhead. The rain pours down from above. The waves crash on the side of his boat.
I WILL GO ON! I MUST FIND MY WAY BACK!
His boat capsizes. He struggles to make his way back on, as the waves drag him down below the raging sea.
A mother and her daughter sit bedside to their loved one, crying. The tubes keeping him there with them no longer necessary, as the deafening tone rings out around them...
Where am I?
Oh... I’m still here .
He has lost track of time. How long would be remain afloat upon this vast, desolate body? Time could no longer tell..
He picked up his oars again and continued on. To where, he had no clue. That didn’t matter anymore. Somewhere... anywhere. It surely had to be better than this hellish isolation.
As he rowed toward the unknown, his eyes caught the stains of blood on the handle of his oar. Memories quickly fading into the darkness of the struggle he’s had up until now. His whole life, it seems, has been a struggle.
He keeps pushing, and pushing. Pushing through the pain; the agony. One stroke after another, he keeps pushing, until he can no longer move his arms. He collapses again, like so many other times before, in extreme exhaustion.
I’ve never given up before. I’m not going to stop now.
Slowly, he gathers himself, and rises.
This is not the end.
With all his might, he continues on his fatal quest. It’s nearing midday, but it seems uncharacteristically dark. The water begins to churn. The winds pick up.
He hesitates for a moment. A whisper echos in his mind, bringing with it memories of his family.
I will see them again someday. I will make it through this. I must find my way.
The skies darken. Thunder and lightening rumble and flash overhead. The rain pours down from above. The waves crash on the side of his boat.
I WILL GO ON! I MUST FIND MY WAY BACK!
His boat capsizes. He struggles to make his way back on, as the waves drag him down below the raging sea.
A mother and her daughter sit bedside to their loved one, crying. The tubes keeping him there with them no longer necessary, as the deafening tone rings out around them...
New Blogs
So recently I decided that I wanted to get back in to writing. I took tons of writing classes in college in all different fields, and was even an English minor in school. Even though I focus on media and media production now, I still love to write, but had never gotten back in to it once I graduated.
But this is my chance now! I decided that I am going to write to my heart's content!
I also came up with an interesting way of how I am going to write and post things on here. Whomever sends me a word/idea/theme/whatever, I will take that, write on it, and then post giving credit to the person who told me to write on that topic. I hope to get a lot of suggestions and hopefully I can fill this thing up!
I must note that every blog posted, unless otherwise noted, is completely made up and completely original (minus, of course, the story suggestion).
So please, send me your suggestions! You can message/post on my facebook (Jake Kordan), tweet at me (@J_Kordan), or email me at jake.kordan@gmail.com or jake_kordan@yahoo.com! Hope to get your suggestions soon so I can continue with something I have always been passionate about!
(Note: I am having you suggest things to me, not because I can't think of anything myself, but more as a way to interact with you all as well. Let's see where you guys can take my mind!)
But this is my chance now! I decided that I am going to write to my heart's content!
I also came up with an interesting way of how I am going to write and post things on here. Whomever sends me a word/idea/theme/whatever, I will take that, write on it, and then post giving credit to the person who told me to write on that topic. I hope to get a lot of suggestions and hopefully I can fill this thing up!
I must note that every blog posted, unless otherwise noted, is completely made up and completely original (minus, of course, the story suggestion).
So please, send me your suggestions! You can message/post on my facebook (Jake Kordan), tweet at me (@J_Kordan), or email me at jake.kordan@gmail.com or jake_kordan@yahoo.com! Hope to get your suggestions soon so I can continue with something I have always been passionate about!
(Note: I am having you suggest things to me, not because I can't think of anything myself, but more as a way to interact with you all as well. Let's see where you guys can take my mind!)
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