..P..u..L..s..E..p...U..l..S..e..
i havent updated in a while, but i'm still alive.
been working and classes and then hitting the 295PLAY circut.
i dont think ill be singing for a while now..
Its crazy how something can build you up and make you feel so happy to be alive, and then without warning something is said or done that just leaves you feeling tired of life and just wanting to curl up and die somewhere. life is truely bittersweet.
So today is friday the thirteenth and i am skipping class to hop a bus with courtney and visit my best friend in the city.
Dame - I love you and am so glad we finally have a date! ;)
I would say "Dos vie donya"
but I don't sing Russian.
And for those of you who are bored, a short story i wrote one day for kicks:
The storm grew worse by the minute as Neil continued to run down the hard street against the cold rain that stung his face and handicapped his vision. From the moon's pale light, he could see he had come to the end of the alleyway and needed some direction. Hearing the engine closing in on him, he grabbed the top of the metal fence ahead of him and barely thrust himself and the suitcase up and over as the car spun to a stop in front of him. Even though he slightly bent his knees, the landing on the pavement sent a sharp pain to his calf and up his spine, and it was hard to hold the suitcase while running. The unbearable pain left him un-steady as he swayed into a brick wall for support, but he couldn't stop now. Running as fast as he could and limping on his right side, he fell hard into the broken curb he had failed to see and he had flung the burgundy case across the pavement. Although covered in sweat and drenched to the bone, Neil rushed to retrieve the scattered paperwork to only fall again into a puddle of street-side waste. Collecting the papers and closing the case, he had ripped off two of the airport ticket stubs and through them in his pocket in case they were needed in the future. Through the rumble of thunder he heard the car coming down the street and, disappearing into the shadows of a dumpster, closed his eyes and tried not to make a sound.
The rain had froze and the once stinging drizzle had become a cannon blast of ice and hail. The sound of activated car alarms and barking dogs surrounded Neil as he stopped dead in his tracks at the sight ahead of him. Breathing hard and holding onto a lamppost for balance, he could see the same black car with the cracked windshield that was chasing him. A large automatic teasingly poked fun at him through the passenger seat window, and after the world fell into a moment of uncertain silence, the gun began to shoot blindly in the dark. Neil spun around the street corner to duck down and watched as the bullets hit the innocent mailbox and convenient store window. At the sound of the store's alarm, the driver sped off paying no attention to the abandoned red light and clearly forgetting about the man he was chasing.
Slowly getting up, he unbuckled his gun from the holster and held it tightly in his already bloody hand that had lost its battle with the metal fence. Peering around the corner he could only make out the green traffic lights and the worn out neon signs of the stores down the street. Leaning the case against an iron bench, he took off his soaked suit jacket thinking that if he needed to run again, removing the heavy clothing would increase his chance of a faster escape. Tossing the soggy mess into a heap on the ground, he removed that mandatory black tie from around his neck and wrapped it around his broken hand. Wrapping it diagonally between his fore finger and thumb to his wrist and back again made it impossible for him to grip his gun, so he switched hands and thought that even an inaccurate shot would still be adequate. The storm had quickly amplified into a deafening crash of thunder and lightning. He shook his arm downward to reveal a cracked watch past his sleeve that read 3:24 am on the 4th. Kicking his jacket into the street and grabbing the suitcase, he continued to walk along the broken sidewalk trying to shake the feeling that someone was watching him. He didn't know where he was going or what he would do when he got there, but doing absolutely nothing wasn't an option. He starred blankly at the traffic light and could hear Ami’s voice in the back of his head.
"If you're not there by 4:00 with that paperwork, I'm handing over what I have and it'll all be over for you." She was the kind of girl that would punch you in the chest for complimenting her outfit or telling her she was cute, and yet she said she'd wait for him there. He could picture her smacking him upside the head for being a couple minutes late, but he had no idea where he was now. If Ami could easily make a buck on his information or his head she would take it, and he knew it. Giving him a deadline showed her taking charge, and having passed all her tests, she had proven to be his equal. He stepped off the curb and into the street. He couldn't think of a reason why she needed this suitcase and those files by 4:00, but it was his job to deliver them no matter what. Too bad he didn't have the files.
At the intersection, he looked up at the blurry street sign that would illuminate every few seconds from a shot of lightning. Out of habit, he put the case down and searched his pants pocket for his glasses. "Damn." The glasses had probably fallen out during his daring leap over that metal fence. He needed to stand on garbage cans to reach the top of the fence, but a daring leap all the same. He raised his hand in the air for the only taxi speeding down the street to recognize him. Realizing he was holding his gun, he quickly switched hands as the taxi driver overlooked him and continued his route. "Same to you!" he screamed back, but the taxi had already passed him and was going too fast for the driver to have even heard him. Starring ahead into the pouring rain and bolts of lightning, he heard a car horn. "Finally some luck!" he said to himself turning around to what he thought was the taxi coming back for him. But there wasn't a taxi in sight. With butterflies in his stomach, he stood alone in the middle of the street staring down the black car as if they were having a western draw. The car honked again as to say, "I see you and I won't let you get away this time." He thought of running but what was the use? It had already seen him and with his busted leg and that heavy suitcase he wouldn't be able to get far. Grabbing the case and lowering his gun, Neil walked toward the car and noticed the crack in the windshield. When he had hit it with the suitcase before, he was sure that he’d loose them. As he approached the driver's side, the window lowered to reveal the same automatic that had shot at him before. At the sight of this, Neil dropped his gun and rolling across the hood of the car, clutched tightly to the precious suitcase and ran. He started to sprint down a narrow street and to another abandoned intersection.
Two black vans were heading straight for him as he dodged down an alley on the right, and tripping over a garbage can, he made his way to the Steinward Warehouse. He had no idea where he had gone before, but he had to have gone in circles, because this was where he started. This was where he picked up that suitcase and where the black car first spotted him and began the chase. At the sound of shots being fired, he slid under a partially open garage door and faced a flight of stairs.
As the shots got closer, he ran up the stairs to the abandoned office still holding onto the suitcase for dear life. Half way up the stairs he reached a window where he could see that black car get shot at by one of the vans, causing it to spin out of control and end up in the corner store. The vans were turning around and approaching the warehouse as he walked into the opened office. At the sound of the garage doors opening, he dropped the case, rushed to close the office door and felt around for a light switch. Banging his leg into a desk, he stopped what he was doing, and closed his eyes for a moment. Sighing to himself, Neil felt around and pulled over the desk chair to finally sit down. The hairs on his body stood on end as he heard the creek of the door being slowly opened in the dark. Just then, the lights of the office came on and Neil had forgotten to breathe for a minute."You call that a fight?" An older man in a navy colored suit leaned against the far wall beside the doorway. He began to loosen his necktie as he picked up the suitcase and slowly walked toward the desk. After throwing the suitcase onto the desk, he Removed a small silver cell phone from his inner jacket pocket. The man wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his left hand and wrinkled his forehead as he squinted hard to use the phone. "It's over,” he said into it. Then tucking the phone back into his pocket, he looked up at Neil with red eyes. Clearing his throat he began to raise his voice with every word he spat. "You can't run. You can't fight! You missed every clue we left you, and you couldn't even get to that apartment!" The man was leaning on the edge of the desk and bending forward so he was face-to-face with Neil. "And to make matters worse, you ended up here! Dammit Thomson this is where you started for God sakes! Or haven't you realized? What the hell kind of run through was that? What you should've done was..."
As the man continued, the office walls behind him began to fade away like the end of a movie and Neil could barely make out the outline of a crowd of people. Through
the office door came the drivers of the black car and two vans. Neil rose and started to walk over to them when he was pulled back. "You're doing it again, kid." said the old
man. Neil turned to look at him, but the man had walked over to talk with the crowd of people beyond the office wall. Ami was walking toward him with her ripped up sweat
pants and tang top. She threw a new jacket and towel at him with a look of disappointment on her face. "I..uh.." began Neil. "I thought you'd do better than me. Oh well." Ami gave him a punch in the arm and walked away." What are you doing?" shouted the old man from across the room. "Get back downstairs and get ready. And for God sakes Thomson, shoot something this time!" The End.
-meg
been working and classes and then hitting the 295PLAY circut.
i dont think ill be singing for a while now..
Its crazy how something can build you up and make you feel so happy to be alive, and then without warning something is said or done that just leaves you feeling tired of life and just wanting to curl up and die somewhere. life is truely bittersweet.
So today is friday the thirteenth and i am skipping class to hop a bus with courtney and visit my best friend in the city.
Dame - I love you and am so glad we finally have a date! ;)
I would say "Dos vie donya"
but I don't sing Russian.
And for those of you who are bored, a short story i wrote one day for kicks:
The storm grew worse by the minute as Neil continued to run down the hard street against the cold rain that stung his face and handicapped his vision. From the moon's pale light, he could see he had come to the end of the alleyway and needed some direction. Hearing the engine closing in on him, he grabbed the top of the metal fence ahead of him and barely thrust himself and the suitcase up and over as the car spun to a stop in front of him. Even though he slightly bent his knees, the landing on the pavement sent a sharp pain to his calf and up his spine, and it was hard to hold the suitcase while running. The unbearable pain left him un-steady as he swayed into a brick wall for support, but he couldn't stop now. Running as fast as he could and limping on his right side, he fell hard into the broken curb he had failed to see and he had flung the burgundy case across the pavement. Although covered in sweat and drenched to the bone, Neil rushed to retrieve the scattered paperwork to only fall again into a puddle of street-side waste. Collecting the papers and closing the case, he had ripped off two of the airport ticket stubs and through them in his pocket in case they were needed in the future. Through the rumble of thunder he heard the car coming down the street and, disappearing into the shadows of a dumpster, closed his eyes and tried not to make a sound.
The rain had froze and the once stinging drizzle had become a cannon blast of ice and hail. The sound of activated car alarms and barking dogs surrounded Neil as he stopped dead in his tracks at the sight ahead of him. Breathing hard and holding onto a lamppost for balance, he could see the same black car with the cracked windshield that was chasing him. A large automatic teasingly poked fun at him through the passenger seat window, and after the world fell into a moment of uncertain silence, the gun began to shoot blindly in the dark. Neil spun around the street corner to duck down and watched as the bullets hit the innocent mailbox and convenient store window. At the sound of the store's alarm, the driver sped off paying no attention to the abandoned red light and clearly forgetting about the man he was chasing.
Slowly getting up, he unbuckled his gun from the holster and held it tightly in his already bloody hand that had lost its battle with the metal fence. Peering around the corner he could only make out the green traffic lights and the worn out neon signs of the stores down the street. Leaning the case against an iron bench, he took off his soaked suit jacket thinking that if he needed to run again, removing the heavy clothing would increase his chance of a faster escape. Tossing the soggy mess into a heap on the ground, he removed that mandatory black tie from around his neck and wrapped it around his broken hand. Wrapping it diagonally between his fore finger and thumb to his wrist and back again made it impossible for him to grip his gun, so he switched hands and thought that even an inaccurate shot would still be adequate. The storm had quickly amplified into a deafening crash of thunder and lightning. He shook his arm downward to reveal a cracked watch past his sleeve that read 3:24 am on the 4th. Kicking his jacket into the street and grabbing the suitcase, he continued to walk along the broken sidewalk trying to shake the feeling that someone was watching him. He didn't know where he was going or what he would do when he got there, but doing absolutely nothing wasn't an option. He starred blankly at the traffic light and could hear Ami’s voice in the back of his head.
"If you're not there by 4:00 with that paperwork, I'm handing over what I have and it'll all be over for you." She was the kind of girl that would punch you in the chest for complimenting her outfit or telling her she was cute, and yet she said she'd wait for him there. He could picture her smacking him upside the head for being a couple minutes late, but he had no idea where he was now. If Ami could easily make a buck on his information or his head she would take it, and he knew it. Giving him a deadline showed her taking charge, and having passed all her tests, she had proven to be his equal. He stepped off the curb and into the street. He couldn't think of a reason why she needed this suitcase and those files by 4:00, but it was his job to deliver them no matter what. Too bad he didn't have the files.
At the intersection, he looked up at the blurry street sign that would illuminate every few seconds from a shot of lightning. Out of habit, he put the case down and searched his pants pocket for his glasses. "Damn." The glasses had probably fallen out during his daring leap over that metal fence. He needed to stand on garbage cans to reach the top of the fence, but a daring leap all the same. He raised his hand in the air for the only taxi speeding down the street to recognize him. Realizing he was holding his gun, he quickly switched hands as the taxi driver overlooked him and continued his route. "Same to you!" he screamed back, but the taxi had already passed him and was going too fast for the driver to have even heard him. Starring ahead into the pouring rain and bolts of lightning, he heard a car horn. "Finally some luck!" he said to himself turning around to what he thought was the taxi coming back for him. But there wasn't a taxi in sight. With butterflies in his stomach, he stood alone in the middle of the street staring down the black car as if they were having a western draw. The car honked again as to say, "I see you and I won't let you get away this time." He thought of running but what was the use? It had already seen him and with his busted leg and that heavy suitcase he wouldn't be able to get far. Grabbing the case and lowering his gun, Neil walked toward the car and noticed the crack in the windshield. When he had hit it with the suitcase before, he was sure that he’d loose them. As he approached the driver's side, the window lowered to reveal the same automatic that had shot at him before. At the sight of this, Neil dropped his gun and rolling across the hood of the car, clutched tightly to the precious suitcase and ran. He started to sprint down a narrow street and to another abandoned intersection.
Two black vans were heading straight for him as he dodged down an alley on the right, and tripping over a garbage can, he made his way to the Steinward Warehouse. He had no idea where he had gone before, but he had to have gone in circles, because this was where he started. This was where he picked up that suitcase and where the black car first spotted him and began the chase. At the sound of shots being fired, he slid under a partially open garage door and faced a flight of stairs.
As the shots got closer, he ran up the stairs to the abandoned office still holding onto the suitcase for dear life. Half way up the stairs he reached a window where he could see that black car get shot at by one of the vans, causing it to spin out of control and end up in the corner store. The vans were turning around and approaching the warehouse as he walked into the opened office. At the sound of the garage doors opening, he dropped the case, rushed to close the office door and felt around for a light switch. Banging his leg into a desk, he stopped what he was doing, and closed his eyes for a moment. Sighing to himself, Neil felt around and pulled over the desk chair to finally sit down. The hairs on his body stood on end as he heard the creek of the door being slowly opened in the dark. Just then, the lights of the office came on and Neil had forgotten to breathe for a minute."You call that a fight?" An older man in a navy colored suit leaned against the far wall beside the doorway. He began to loosen his necktie as he picked up the suitcase and slowly walked toward the desk. After throwing the suitcase onto the desk, he Removed a small silver cell phone from his inner jacket pocket. The man wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his left hand and wrinkled his forehead as he squinted hard to use the phone. "It's over,” he said into it. Then tucking the phone back into his pocket, he looked up at Neil with red eyes. Clearing his throat he began to raise his voice with every word he spat. "You can't run. You can't fight! You missed every clue we left you, and you couldn't even get to that apartment!" The man was leaning on the edge of the desk and bending forward so he was face-to-face with Neil. "And to make matters worse, you ended up here! Dammit Thomson this is where you started for God sakes! Or haven't you realized? What the hell kind of run through was that? What you should've done was..."
As the man continued, the office walls behind him began to fade away like the end of a movie and Neil could barely make out the outline of a crowd of people. Through
the office door came the drivers of the black car and two vans. Neil rose and started to walk over to them when he was pulled back. "You're doing it again, kid." said the old
man. Neil turned to look at him, but the man had walked over to talk with the crowd of people beyond the office wall. Ami was walking toward him with her ripped up sweat
pants and tang top. She threw a new jacket and towel at him with a look of disappointment on her face. "I..uh.." began Neil. "I thought you'd do better than me. Oh well." Ami gave him a punch in the arm and walked away." What are you doing?" shouted the old man from across the room. "Get back downstairs and get ready. And for God sakes Thomson, shoot something this time!" The End.
-meg