More Art

A painting I did a year ago for my high school art class. It was inspired by Serj Tankian, the lead singer of System of a Down.
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Im not just a good writer

I am an avid artist, and I just thought of sharing this with you guys. I usually don't do "art for art's sake" as it was for a project. I do not actually like Ninja Gaiden whatsoever (yes, I have played both games), but he is a badass nonetheless.

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Fantasized Journal Entry #2

#2. Age 14, January 17^th, 2003, Anger management, and severe depression.

Depravation. I have no idea what’s wrong with me… my parents just don’t seem to understand! They kicked me out… I can’t really remember why though. I guess they had enough of me getting “just 70’s”, even though I’m trying my hardest. All they fucking care about is the number on the top of my report card. If it’s not over 80, then I get grounded. Maybe it was that one time I turned Freddy the Ferret’s face into hamburger because he called me a chump… I just snapped. But my parents… they transformed me! Now I hate everything, even playing guitar. It’s because of them that I can’t keep a job, or a relationship, or be a better guitar player. Also Uncle Vernon just died of cancer. He was the only person in my dysfunctional life that could make everything seem brighter… now he’s gone. God dammit! If only I could just show them what they’re doing to their son… to me… their only son. Fuck! I stormed outside of my room as they were watching their CNN Newsroom and eating their Chinese take out. Tears were rolling down my cheek, “If you don’t care about me, I don’t care about living in this world!” As I stormed outside. I just sat in the middle of the road and began to cry, waiting for ongoing traffic to come take me away from this place. It was freezing, like 10 or something below zero; I was just in my pyjamas. Then, something weird happened. I started to recollect all the decent things that happened in my life, and then I understood that I had more to live for than taken for granted. I had realized this just seconds before an ongoing truck almost ploughed into me. Being the son of middle class white trash made me realize that there is actually greater purpose in life: to live. I realized that suicide is the ultimate form of giving up, which from that day forward I made a pledge never to do. I still hate my parents, but now I respect the fact that raising a kid like me can be difficult. 

(RE-EDIT) This is why from now on, REMEMBER, whenever I have mood swings, I have to think about everything I have in my life and asses it, and then come to a conclusion. MAKE SURE YOU CALM DOWN AND THINK OF EVERYTHING YOU HAVE IN YOUR LIFE.

Fantasized Journal Entry

This was something I had to do for writing class, which means that I actually put some effort into it. This was a part of I short story I wrote.
Hope you enjoy.

#3. Age 17, September 5^th, 2005: How I fell in love with June.

June’s Rock. It was the last time I was to see June before I left to travel across Canada, so we decided to spend as much time as we had left together. We had taken the family paddle-boat without permission across the lake (a paddle boat is basically a two person bicycle that can tread water) to our “secret spot”, a slightly slanted bed of rock facing the most beautiful view in all of the Kawartha’s. The rustling leaves on the trees were turning into an intense array of reds oranges and yellows, the furry little animals were scurrying to collect refuge for the winter, water-skiers being pulled by motorboats were zooming across the water. The sound of people conversing, laughing, dancing on their decks and patios could be heard from miles away as the lake acted as nature’s natural microphone. June and I could hear basically everything: barbecues, parties, family reunions, fireworks. It also happened to be my birthday. It was paradise.

So, this unnamed island was the only undeveloped property in amongst our township, due to the fact that it was a kilometre long island in the middle of the lake we were on. On this island, is our “secret spot”, as only June and I knew about it. When we finally arrived, the sun was about to set in the distance, just as I had planned. I set up the rock face “picnic style”: chips, ginger ale, even going as far as making a makeshift bed with an old foam mattress and wool blankets. Unfortunately though, I had forgotten the pillows from home, but we didn’t care, we just used each other as pillows, it was cute to say the least. We laid on the bed together, munching chips while taking in as much nature as we could. The air around us felt cold and edgy, but being together made it seem warm and comforting. The smell of June’s auburn hair drove me mad. As it started to get colder, she cuddled up to me; our stiff wool blanket scratched us every time we squirmed about the foam mattress. The rock’s surface beneath us felt coarse even underneath the mattress, the smell of pine needles and burnt cedar filled our nostrils. I could feel her heart beating inside of her chest. Suspense filled our thoughts. Then suddenly, the sun rested over the valley. The hill we were sitting on was now filled with the radiance of the sun’s rays. The warmer air instantly made us feel more relaxed. She rolled on top of me. June looked into my eyes with a glow about her; the sun setting beyond the island eclipsed her head like an angel’s halo. It was one of the most stunning things either of us had ever seen, but we both knew it wasn’t the sunset in the distance. She just stared into my eyes and smiled. I had never wanted something so badly in my entire life.

(RE-EDIT) The day after I decided to nickname the rock that we spent on together “June’s Rock”, for obvious reasons. Since that day, as a couple we try to come out to our little spot in the Kawartha’s at least once every summer.

Once a Week (Song)

Sitting, sitting,

On mountains high

It seems only fitting,

(why) You always wonder why,

Only once a week…

Stand by me,

Just like birds in the trees

Together we’ll be free

Nobody but you and me (girl)

But I just can’t wait,

But I just can’t wait…

All these little things

That you and me try

Just try to spread your wings (babe)

And teach me how to fly!

Only one a week…

Sadly there’s an in-between

Its really quite obscene

She’s addicted to the caffeine

My girl of only eighteen

But I just can’t wait,

But I just can’t wait,

For my once a week.

A little poetry?

Heaving

He can’t repress the mentality

Born of bleak dejection, but not

of dire necessity. From father to mother

Reputedly waging insignificant wars

of words. How can this be real life?

My mind is full of confusion

Listen, voices of your children

Power, they choose your fate

Sitting futile domicile for old,

waiting to die, only to reflect life

Why can’t I hear you think?

Why can’t I help you see?

Why can’t I see you strive?

How can I feel you now?

But you’re not here.

Mary is a liquor whore

            “Mary! Mary! Maaaaaaaary!! Where are you?”

          “I’m just over here being happeeeeeey!”.

“How can you keep stuffing your cheeks with that… that filth! You’ll gain five pounds just by eating one of those things!

            “Its just foie gras, and its soooo good. Here, try some!”

            “No I would not thank you, you’re being impossible Mary. Look, right now, you have a full cabernet (sauvignon) in your right hand, and fucking duck liver in your left What do you think is going to become of this?”

            “But, but, I feel fine! Everyone feels fine! You’re fine! Haha… Well, except for that betty bitch Sylvia… cunt…”

            Ballroom of the Venetian. Christ. What a place to throw up in, AHEM Mary... Anyways, it was warmer than usual, the AC had cut out, so the wedding guests retired to the patio where there was a nice refreshing pool and mini bar. The sound of mingling filled the air; sipping casually on wine glasses and laughter. Mary was the most beautiful face in the room: Black flowing hair, a smile that would melt a man’s heart. Normally, she attracts one hundred percent of the attention anywhere she goes, but her sister, the bride, was taking it away from her, but it was her sister’s night rightfully so. As a result, Jealousy filled Mary’s conscious.

            “Look, here’s some water from the mini bar to help you calm down. I’m going over to get you some Pepto to help with the, throwy-uppy, erm, so you stay here and don’t do anything stupid,?”

            Mary listened as contently as a soldier doing drill.

            “Your wish is my command Sire!”

            Nobody was in the pool swimming. What better way to attract attention besides taking off your clothes off. The pool was in the middle of the entire party, the bride (sister) and groom sitting right in front of it… perfect.
            “AHEM. A toast to the bride and groom-

            “Oh god Mary what are you doing?”

            “To my sister! Cheers!

            Everybody raised their glasses in harmony to toast the newlyweds. While everyone was downing their cheap concierge wines, Mary tripped over her own feet, landing face first into the adjacent swimming pool. Ouch.

I sawr a gerl at a ye olde coffee shope...

I was wondering what the red haired girl across from me at this little coffee shope was thinking, maybe we had been friends in a past life?

"At Costa’s coffee shop, Jim told me he loved ham sandwiches. I was ordering at the cashier when I heard that familiar voice. My insides screamed like a schoolgirl. I put the biggest smile I possibly could get on my face, and then gave him the biggest hug that I think I’ve ever given anyone. It was a Sunday afternoon. I couldn’t tell whether it was holiday; people seemed too scarce apart to be a regular day. It was just me and Jim in the coffee shop. Delicious – I love the smell of coffee shops. Whenever I stroll into a Starbucks, I’m in heaven. He was just there to grab lunch and read the paper, nothing too fancy. But we decided to chat anyways. We used to go to school together. We were in the same art class. It was almost love between us, all class we would do nothing but stare at each other eyes. He had a glow about him that made us inseparable. Which, maybe is the main reason our teacher gave us such a low mark. Good times. I wish I was a teenager again"