Confession Tuesday

1. I hate going to bed early. I always manage to stay up late texting or listening to music.
2. I never study for quizzes. But somehow I always manage to pass them.
3. I've drank a shot of rum. Only one. ;)
4. I prefer pens over pencils. Pencils just write too light for me.
5. Obese people gross me out. I don't know if its because they always seam to be eating or if its because they have to much fat.
6. I like playing the sports I enjoy watching (instead of the other way around).
7. I am "secretly" a Red Sox fan. I haven't told many people so you are probably one of the first to know.
8. I have the best of friends. You can ask them if you don't believe me.
9. I spend way too much time on Skype while I should be doing my homework.
10. I am on Skype as I post this.

I Walk in the Wolf Room

because everyone has to be there
just before class begins.
I proceed to our usual spot,
where they are talking about the same topics.
They complain and laugh at
events that occurred in the weekend.
I pull over a chair and place
my backpack and binder on it.
I join the conversation,
adding a comment here and there.
We where happy to see each other again,
but sad that class had begun.

Wordly Wise Wednesday: The Witness

I was clad with a leather jacket and a red, abrasive scarf around my neck, almost suffocating me. It was a cold night, even though the paper had predicted otherwise. I took a deep breath, briefly looking at the fog it left. I took a right, walking down a dark alley, succumbed by the uncertainty of where it lead to.

Suddenly, a loud, piercing shriek echoed around the empty night. I grimaced. I immediately surmised that a gruesome event had occurred. I ran, ran as fast and far as I could. But I was lost. The pitch black night forbid me to look at the path in front of me. I endeavored to derive a way back to Eighth Street, until I found my way back.

I continued to dash around the streets, gingerly avoiding the seldom walker on the way. I began to feel dehydrated, but this was no time to stop for water. I saw my destination. I panted as I grasped the rusty, metal handle to the wooden door. I walked in the police station, directly going towards the officer. I told him about my occurrence, but he wasn't very electrified he dealt with events like this every day.

He called out to two other officers, as they came out a while later, ready for duty. I informed the newcomers about what happened, this time being briefly interrupted with questions. They thanked me and assured that they will investigate the alley on Eighth Street. I walked out pushing open the wooden door, walking into the coldness and darkness of the night. Walking out into the bleak uncertainty. Thinking about the shriek that still echoed in my head....

I'm Not Actually That Busy...

I'm a very patient person, and when someone is talking to me, I'll pay attention to them. But if you are texting me or instant messaging me, and I'm tired you will either read a I'm busy (with actually have the letters it needs to be and more than a single 'y') or I'll probably not answer at all.
And again don't get me wrong here, I will pay attention to what you are saying if you are talking to me unless of course I can't understand a word you are saying, in that case I will just fake a smile and nod. But when I'm tired and I've gone through piles of Ms. Meadows' homework (it is lots) and I just want to relax and listen to my good old music, (that Nicholas just loves) techno. Maybe I'll talk to one person, maybe even two, but not three or more. So I'm sorry if I put you off saying that I was busy, and that I would be back later or anything of that nature, I wasn't busy, I wasn't gonna be back later, I was just too tired, too exhausted to care about the usual Hi's. I apologize if you wanted to talk to me, I apologize if your feelings where hurt, but I just get to my house really tired sometimes.

Memoir Monday: When the Going Gets Tough, the Tough Get Going

I was remembering the good old days when you would just color and glues papers together while in class, remembering how easy it was to pure glue on a paper, and stick it on another. Believe it or not you would get an 'A' for that. Later on it got a bit more difficult as you would now have to actually write sentences with more than five words, and you would get an 'A' for that too. You could also take a ten question multiple choice quiz, open notes! (There would even be full credit retakes for those.) It was just so easy back then....
Nowadays you actually have to write reports, essays, and summaries on everything; research, study, and analyze each chapter. It has made me realize that as I grow, things get tougher, but you'll know the saying, When the going gets tough, the tough get going.

What I Want This Year...

I sat at my desk,

looking through the window,

thinking.

Thinking of the shame I had,

for not completing the homework

that was due today.

I began to ponder

about what excuse

should I come up with today.

I had used up many on previous occasions,

that I had ran out of them.

What I want this year…

I would like to

sit comfortably

knowing that I’ve done

what I needed to do for the day.

Believe

Why won't the coach play me? Bobby thought. The game was 0-8 in the eighth inning, and there was no chance of winning this game, or any other game. The umpiring throughout this game was very uneven, constantly blowing calls in the other team's favor. They where not always outplayed by the enemy, but it always ended in an acrid loss. They finally retired the side, after allowing three runs to score, all because of Jeff's error at shortstop, Bobby's position.
As if effortlessly, the pitcher retired the first two hitters on six pitches, all swinging strikes. The loss was almost inevitable. The pitcher–a guy that looked like he was sixteen, measuring over six feet tall and Bobby could swear he had a beard– was a little negligent, as he threw a not so fast fastball, right over the middle of the plate. The hitter, Andrew, hit a weak grounder to third base, but used his speed and a lack of communication by the infield to reach first-base safely.
"Bobby!" Coach Robinson yelled across the dugout, "You're up!"
Bobby couldn't believe his ears, he finally had a chance to play, and have a chance to be an impediment in the enemies' plans too. He walked through the dugout to retrieve his bat, and on his way, he spotted something peculiar on his glove. On his glove, there was a small human, with wings on its back. He immediately recognized it from his book, Peter Pan. It was a fairy! He was flabbergasted. He had never seen one in his entire life.
"Hello!" the fairy hollered at him.
"Hi," Bobby answered slowly.
"Want to make a wish?" It questioned.
"Sure," Bobby answered, "I wish we could play well enough this game, just this one game."
"Okay," the fairy nodded as she swung her wand around. "There!"
"Awesome!" Bobby exclaimed.
Bobby stepped up to bat, no worries on his head, no nerves, nothing. He knew, no matter what he did, he would end up winning this game. He entered a stare-down with the pitcher. The pitcher slowly chewed his gun as he held the ball behind his back. Bobby rolled his bat on his hand, griping it from his palm then his fingers, as if trying to get a feel of the bat. Andrew took a small lead at first base, stepping out no more than five feet. The pitcher moved his hand from his back, and into his glove, and began his motion. When the pitcher raised his knee, Bobby griped the bat hard and watched the ball come towards him. He swung at the first pitch, a sharp curveball on the outside corner. He connected with it hard and sent it soaring over the first baseman, slicing away into foul territory. The ball bounced right on the line making it a fair ball. Bobby dropped his bat and sprinted to first base, rounding it and making an attempt to reach second base. The outfielder collected the ball and threw it in softly. He stopped at second with a double, and Andrew came around to score easily. Not only was that his fist double, it was his first hit! One-by-one, his teammates were sending balls soaring into the outfield and beating out grounders until the side was retired with a score of 6-8.
They got out to play defense and Bobby took control of the shortstop position. It wasn't long until he got some action, as the first batter hit a sharp ground ball between second and third. Bobby twisted his glove and backhanded it, and unleashed a perfect throw to first for the first out. The second batter hit a soft pop-up to second base where Andrew made an easy catch for the second out. The final hitter hit a line drive single to right field which brought up the opposing, sixteen year-old-looking pitcher. On the first pitch he belted it hard, but straight at Bobby for the out.
When they came up to bat, two outs fell quickly before Tyler hit a double to left field, and Andrew hit a single to center. There were runners on second and third, and two outs. He went for his bat and thought the fairy would still be on his glove, and it was.
"Wow, you guys really pulled it off!" the fairy said.
"Well, actually no, you made us win this game," Bobby responded.
"Yeah, but didn't you want to win?"
"Yes, I did, but now that we are close to winning with your help, I realized that it isn't as valuable if you don't win it by yourself."
"You want to take back the wish?"
"Yes, yes I do."
"Fine," the fairy said as she waggled her wand around, "There, it's taken back."
Bobby walked back up, this time he was worried. Believe, believe, believe! Bobby thought as he stepped into the batter's box and got ready for round two of the stare-down. He swung and missed at the first pitch, a change-up on the lower center of the plate. Come on Bobby, you can hit this! At the next pitch he swung hard, and managed to get the bat on it, sending it rocketing to the outfield. He watched as the ball continued to soar, and the center fielder raced back all the way to the fence and jumped. The crowd roared. A home run! Bobby thought. They had won the game nine to eight. He ran the bases with glory, making sure he stepped on all of them. After he stepped on home, Coach Robinson approached him.
"Bobby, I think I owe you an apology.," Coach said as Bobby just nodded, "But way to win it, huh? Listen, how would you like to be our new cleanup hitter?"
"But Paul hits cleanup?"
"Not anymore, he will be hitting third from now on."
"I'd love to!" Bobby yelled with joy.