February 21, 2012

  • Paper Cuts

     

     

    So I know it’s a little late, but this is my Valentine’s post. (By the way, I had an amazing night on Valentine’s Eve. I took an amazing and beautiful girl to a banquet hosted by the college, then we went mini-golfing and had loads of fun. laughing)

    This poem could’ve gone a few different ways, like the melancholy way most of my poems go. But I decided Valentine’s has enough depression surrounding it, so I’d change things up a bit. I like the way it turned out, and hope you do, too. So without further adieu, here is…Paper Cuts.

    Paper Cuts

    My hand is now bleeding

    From a fresh paper cut

    As I try to write;

    But I’m stuck in a rut

    See, I can’t think straight

    Whenever you’re around.

    I can’t say anything right;

    Nothing witty, or profound.

    So I thought I might

    Write a letter to you

    Saying all the things

    I don’t, but always mean to.

    So don’t mind the blood

    That’s turned into a stain

    For the feelings that I have for you

    Outweigh this small pain.

     

    My head is now bleeding

    From a gaping hole

    That a flying bullet left

    As it passed through three seconds ago.

    But don’t worry about me;

    I will be alright

    Since the men who tried to hurt you

    Have fled into the night.

    As long as you are safe:

    That’s all that matters to me.

    And if that means my death,

    Then my death means victory.

    So don’t mind my blood

    As it grown into a stain

    For my love for you

    Far outweighs the pain.

     

    My heart is still bleeding

    From a gaping hole

    That you, my love, have left

    When you passed on three days ago.

    You were my guiding star

    When I lived in life’s night.

    When all was once wrong,

    You came and made it right.

    In darkness throughout the years

    A light, you’d always shine.

    Though I did once save your life,

    It was you who truly saved mine.

    So even though your heart

    May never beat again.

    I know I’ll see you soon,

    And that helps me ignore this pain.

     

     

February 6, 2012

  • Snow!

     

    Snow.

    It’s everywhere. Literally, everywhere. I’m used to it; I’ve lived in Michigan all my life. But Northern Michigan seems to have like pi times as much snow! It’s crazy.

    Don’t get me wrong, I like snow. It’s fun, poetic, and can be used to bury the car of someone you don’t care for (laughing). It might have to do with the fact that I love the cold. I’d rather have it be 20 degrees than 120 anyday. Maybe because heat induces migraines, but cold doesn’t (at least for me). The downside is that swimming in the winter isn’t as fun as swimming in the summer. But indoor pools kinda solve that problem. Anywho, as one friend put it, I am cool with the cold. cool

    Also, with snow, comes sledding.Sledding is always loads of fun, and someone almost always gets hurt. I remember one of the first times I went sledding, I only went down the hill one time, then got ran over twice trying to come up the hill. Not fun. But usually sledding is fun.

    And skiing! I love skiing! It was the subject of my first break-out post (here), and I make sure to go every year. So much fun, and great stories! A moment of silence for those who didn’t make it down the hill…

     

     

     

    But one of the worst things about snow is…

    Snowball fights.

    I can’t stand them! For one, I’m the biggest target, so I’m usually the one in the cross-hairs. And my snowballs never seem to find their mark, it’s not that I have bad aim cuz I’m pretty good at dodge ball. It’s something about the snow…it doesn’t like me. And then, for the rest of the day, I have to walk around wet. I HATE wet clothes. So I decided from now on, if I am assaulted by said puffs of frozen water, I shall react with physical force…

     

     

     

     

     

January 28, 2012

  • What Luck

     

    So I asked her to the V-day banquet Wednesday. She said she would love to go with me, but then she informed me that I would have to call her father for permission. This I was fine with. It’s what I want my daughters to say when they are asked. I decided I would call Friday, but I had to work and didn’t have the time, so today was the day chosen to make the call. I got the number, and last night I turned my phone off, plugged it into the charger, and went to sleep.

    Today, my phone won’t even turn on.

    Why does such luck follow me wherever I go? It doesn’t always show itself in important things like this, but still, it is ever-present. From bad draws in card games and awful rolls of the dice to car break downs and missed opportunities. It can really be a downer sometimes.

    Maybe it’s karma, like old traditions say. If so, I must’ve done something horrible in a past life.

    I’m not saying I fully support the ideas of luck and karma, but maybe there’s something to it

    What are your thoughts on luck? Do you have good, bad, or any at all? Do you believe in luck?

January 23, 2012

  • Saving Seats

    This poem is hot off the presses. I finished it today in class. Actually, the entire poem was written in one class or another, which is fitting. My favorite thing about this poem is that it can apply to any age: grade school, through high school, onto college, and whatever classes adults may be in. Heck, even the nursing home! I hope you guys enjoy. happy

     

    She sits on the other side of class today.

    The other side seems so far away.

    Though often, a glimpse, I can see,

    I’d much rather have her sit by me.

    Forgive me, if you think it wrong

    That I have, the whole class long

    Tried to keep her in my sight;

    But I cannot, try as I might,

    Focus on what is being taught.

    For she might have what I have sought.

    I have a feeling that behind those eyes

    I might find truth, not more lies.

    From her beautiful hair, to the shoes on her feet,

    Everything about her is nice and neat.

    Even the way she smells is good!

    If I could sit with her, I would.

    But alas! this is something Fate has denied.

    But Fate can not see what is inside…

    So tomorrow I would like to see

    If she would like to sit by me.

    All of my classmates, I will beat

    And next to me, I’ll save her a seat.

     

     

January 16, 2012

  • The Sound of…

     

    The loudest sound I’ve ever heard

    Still echoes through my mind

    I’ve tried so hard to drown it out

    But a louder sound, I cannot find.

    Like a shot out of a canoon,

    It shoots through my ear;

    Bouncing around inside my head:

    No other sound can I hear.

    It is the deafening roar of a hurricane,

     Though it started as a gentle rain.

    What was once the hum of a buzzing fly

    Is now the thundering of a freight train!

    It has turned my world upside-down,

    It’s shattering my eardrum!

    There’s not a thing I can do about it

    Though I know where it comes from.

    For long ago, this sounds source

    Left and went away.

    Now this noise keeps me up at night,

    And distracted during the day.

    Though not a single word she utters,

    She’s screaming in my ear.

    Now forever I must suffer:

    For the sound of silence is all I hear.

January 11, 2012

  • My Apologies.

     

    Wow. I am so sorry. I totally screwed you guys over. I started this epic series, and even left it in a pivotal point; I was talking to a handful of you guys on a consistent basis; there were things going on in your lives that I wanted to know about and vice verse; there were stories I wanted to read; contests I wanted to talk part in; girls I wanted to flirt with…maybe not so much on that last one.

    And I just left.

    Disappeared.

    I did what I would scold so many people for doing. I ignored the cry of blogging to the point that I hardly thought of it.

    And it was terrible.

    I quickly realized that, without me knowing it, Xanga had become one of my best friends. One I would talk to, share my feelings with (though at times it was cryptic and put in such a way that only I knew what the underlying message was), discuss goings-on, and the such like. And when I vamoosed, it left a hole. A void. And, try as I might, I can’t fill it.

    And so, I have returned. I have a few things up my sleeve to get me going again, then I’ll pick up where I left off in the Xeries, if you guys are still interested.

    So I am back. Even though technically I didn’t leave.

    Man, I missed you guys!

October 20, 2011

  • The Party


    Xeries Episode 4: The Party

     

    Bow tie? Check

    Vest? Check

    Cuff links? Check. Wait, since when do I have cuff links? And they’re so nice! Oh yeah, they’re supposed to be the present! But they look so good with this shirt…he’ll never notice I didn’t get him a present. Besides, I’m sure I’ve solved a case or two for him before…

    Uh-oh, it’s 5:43, the party starts at 6:00, it takes 15 minutes to get there…yeah, I’ll be fine.

    I hop in my car, pull out of my driveway, and flip on the radio. Some radio news anchor is talking about another heist downtown that happened yesterday. “…authorities are saying this job was done by the same crime ring that has hit 5 other banks in the county. Their leader has been titled the “Silent Siren,” because they never trip an alarm, and the only men apprehended have referred to their boss as being a female, though no details were given, and all 3 men were diagnosed clinically insane and committed to the Xangan Asylum.” Hmmm, interesting. I’d like to hear about those other robberies. I’ll have to research some more when I get home.

    Well, apparently I haven’t been to the Mayor’s house in a while, and it’s further away then I thought, since it took about half an hour to get there. But better late then never. I pull into the Mayor’s mansion, step out, and toss my keys to the valet. I walk through the open doors and find myself in the impressive abode of Xanga’s mayor. Everyone is gathered in the main hall, a gigantic room with a massive skylight for a ceiling, and a beautiful chandelier hanging halfway between the floor and the roof. Just about the whole town is here. I think businesses were closed today and everything. There’s a live orchestra playing, a couple of buffet tables set up, and a huge object covered by a tarp on stage. In the center of the room is a big statue of the Mayor that I recognize (except for the head) as Ringo’s duct tape masterpiece. He is standing nearby, basking in the attention. He deserves it; he did a great job. Someone else who catches my eye is Aleksa Ivanov. She’s buzzing around making sure all is in order, I’m sure. I think she was the head planner for all of this.

    “Hey, Tigah!” a voice behind me says. I turn around and see my friend Sim, holding two glasses of something. He offers me one and I take it. Ah, it’s grape juice. Classy.

    “So, I see you’ve arrived fashionably late,” he comments.

    “Yeah, traffic, you know how it is,” I reply lamely.

    “True. Nice cuff links.”

    “Oh, thanks. I got them as a present for, er, me. I figured I deserved something nice.”

    “Yeah, you’ve been pretty busy lately. Speaking of presents, what did you bring for the mayor?” Uh-oh.

    “Well-” just then, the music stops, and someone taps on the microphone. (Whew, saved from having to answer that question!) We turn our heads to see the orchestra director. “Ladies and gentleman, thank you for attending our wonderful Mayor’s birthday celebration. To start off tonight’s program, Xanga’s finest vocal professional, Ms. Kami.” As Kami serenades us, I pick my way to the buffet line and grab a few of those tiny finger sandwiches. How come these shindigs never have steaks or ribs? As I pick my way along the table, I see another friendly face at the end. “Hey, Celegaude, enjoying the party?” He turns and nods, then opens his mouth to reply, when suddenly, the music changes and Kami begins singing “Happy Birthday.” We all take our cue and join in as the Mayor makes his way to the stage. When the song ends, he steps up to the mic and begins his speech.

    “Thank you so much, all of you. Welcome to my house, and thank you for helping me celebrate another wonderful year of life! A special thanks to Ms. Aleksa Ivanov for heading this up for me.” As the crowd begins applauding, I glance around and notice Ms. Ivanov is nowhere to be seen. Bathroom break, probably. The speed she was walking earlier certainly made it look like she had to go. When the applause died down, the mayor picks up his speech again. I half listen, and half survey the crowd. I notice another familiar face not too far and wave. Nani waves back, then turns her attention back to the stage. I, too, face forward and realize I missed something. Now Gerilynn, the orchestra director, and some other lady are on stage by the huge tarp-covered object. The director steps up to the mic and announces, “And now for the unveiling of the Mayor’s present.” The orchestra starts and drum-roll, and Gerilynn and the other lady unveil a beautiful, but older-looking car. I remember Gerilynn telling me she was working on rebuilding the Mayor’s first car, but this looked nothing like the old, beat-up jalopy she’s had in her garage the past few weeks. “Mr. Mayor, some members of the city council did some extensive searching and found your first car, and thanks to Ms. Gerilynn, it is now as good as new!” Again, the crowd breaks into applause as the mayor inspects his new vehicle with a look of joy on his face. After the room calms down, the Mayor again steps to the mic. “Thank you so much, all who had a part in making this happen. I’m not sure how to-SCREEEEEEEEEECCHH!!!!!!

    The sound system starts acting up, creating a piercing sound and causing all the guests to cover their ears. After a few seconds, it stops, and a new voice booms over the speakers, slightly familiar, and definitely female. “You know, I’m told that’s kind of what an alarm sounds like, but I wouldn’t know, I’ve never set one off! Ha ha ha!” the voice laughs at her own joke, although no one in the main hall gets it. Then, a tremendous crash sounds, and the ceiling rains down glass. I glance up to see a figure flying through the air, landing gracefully on the chandelier. Then, it gives way, and with a loud clanging, it rapidly descends into the center of the room, stopping just shy of the duct-tape Mayor. The female, wearing some type of black jump suit and a mask that hides her face, except for her red lips, leaps from the chandelier onto the floor. She is quickly surrounded by a dozen men, all wearing similar clothes. A wireless mic is attached to the left side of her face, and she speaks as she trots up to the stage. “Happy birthday, Mr. Mayor. I didn’t receive an invitation, but I thought I’d drop by anyway. Aha ha ha!” Again, she cackles at her own joke. Then she leaps onto the stage, which is now empty, save the mayor and his gift. “Who are you?” The Mayor demands.

    “Why, how rude of me! I didn’t even introduce myself. I am the Silent Siren, and if all of you don’t hand all of your cash and valuables to one of my associates, you will not live to celebrate another birthday again!”

    To be continued…

    ———————————————————————————————————————————————————————————–

    Detective Aaron Tigah……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….Like_A_Tigah

    Ringo………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………#ringothepirate

    Aleksa Ivanov……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….#cestovatelka

    Sim…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….#simbathe2nd

    Kami…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….#x3style

    Celegaude……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………#galbsadi

    Nani………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………#queen-of-you188

    Gerilynn…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………#broknheartshurt

     

October 14, 2011

  • Afraid of the Dark?

     

    “I’m not afraid of the dark; it’s what’s in it that I’m afraid of.”

     

    The shadows creep, ever so slowly, up my wall. As the grow closer, I slink deeper in my covers, further from the dark room, closer to the comfort my bed promised. But it was a false promise, for I felt just as scared with my head beneath my blanket as I did above it. So I just laid there, praying sleep would take me before the darkness would.

    This was the battle I faced most nights of my childhood. In our upstairs, there were two bedrooms: the big one, and the small one. The small one was closest to the stairs, cooler at night, and best of all, the safest. The eldest always occupied it, until they moved out. Then, the next in line inherited it. Being the youngest of five, it was a while before I would have my turn sleeping without fear. The other room, the big room, was the room I got. In the wall opposite the door was a window over-looking the busy street out front. A streetlight shone through it at night, adding to the shadows. A small closet was off to the right of the door. Now that I’m older, it doesn’t seem so big. But then, it was large and intimidating. When I was really young, I shared it with my two older brothers. But the second youngest, Jordan, had to move to facility in a nearby town due to his mental illness. So Justin and I shared the room. It wasn’t so bad with both of us in the room. Although during the day, he was the worst brother in all the world, at night, it was like nothing ever happened. We knew we needed each other. To be safe. To survive.

    We’d try to tell my parents about it. But you know adults: they just roll their eyes, and blame it on bad movies or too much junk food. But my mom had never slept up there; there’s no way she could’ve known. My dad had taken naps up there, and when Jordan came home for a weekend, sometimes my dad would sleep upstairs to keep Jordan from having nightmares. My dad could’ve known; but maybe being an adult keeps you from seeing certain things. Maybe he understood something was wrong, but could quite comprehend what.

    I don’t remember when my oldest sibling, Charity, lived at home. The one who had the small room most of my childhood was the second oldest, Beth. Sometimes, she’d let me stay in her room with her. She understood. She remembered what it was like living in the big room. But I’ll never forget the night both Justin and Beth would be gone, and I would be forced to sleep in the big room all alone. Beth sat me down on my bed just before she left. I expected a pep talk, telling me not to be scared, that it all really was my imagination. She said, “Aaron, we all know something is in this room. But it didn’t get Charity, it didn’t get me, it hasn’t gotten Justin, it hasn’t gotten Jordan, and it probably won’t get you.” Then she left. Not the comforting words I expected. I think I ended up sleeping on the couch in our living room that night.

    Then the day came when Beth moved out. I tried so hard to get her room, telling Justin it was too small for him, telling my parents he didn’t deserve it for being mean, and I did deserve it for doing well in school. But it was all to no avail. I was left alone in the big room. But I was smart. I invented a few rules to help me not be so scared. Rule 1: always close the door. Normally, people sleep with the door open. But not there. Leaving the door open allowed more darkness to seep in. Rule 2: Always, always, ALWAYS cover up. There was something comforting about having a layer over you. Sealing you in bed, so nothing could take you from it. If a foot was left uncovered, there was an instant feeling of panic, lie if you didn’t cover it up, something would grab it and drag you away. Rule 3: always sleep with noise. A fan, a radio, anything. Silence messes with the mind. I always tied a long piece of string to the pull cord that operated the bare bulb hanging from the ceiling. That way, I didn’t have to stand up to click off the light, then rush into bed before the darkness could get to me. I just climb in bed, pull the cord, then roll over, back towards the advancing shadows.

    With these rules, and some smarts, I survived the nights spent in the big room. The day finally came when I inherited the small room, and I slept in peace, for the most part. I still follow my rules. And there are still times I look down the hallway at the old room, and wonder if it really was my imagination. About that time, I’ll see something stir, or a shadow grow, and it’ll remind me of what it was like.

    To this day, I believe, like my sister said, there is something up there. Something that shouldn’t be. I don’t know what, but it’s there. I’m not sure why it didn’t take us, or if it didn’t want to. Maybe it’s sole purpose was to scare us, and that was it. Or maybe, we just all played it smart. Whatever it is, when people ask if I’ve ever been afraid of the dark, I don’t give that snide answer, “No, I’m not afraid of the dark; it’s what’s in it that I’m afraid of.”

    When someone asks me if I’m afraid of the dark, I say “Yes, and all that’s in it, too.”

    If you’re smart, you would be, too.

     

September 26, 2011

  • Adventures

     

    So just a little update about life.

    First, crazy stuff with getting on the front page. It always scares me when I get publicity. People might find out that I actually write, then they might like it, then I could get this huge crowd of followers, and they’ll want me to publish a book of all my writings…

    Wait, those are all good things. Never mind, I love publicity. It would be nice if I got it for some of my good stuff. But, I digress.

    Some of the guys in my dorm but a dead squirrel under the pillow of another guy. He found it when he rolled over in his sleep that night and put his hand under his pillow. I guess he screamed like a girl, beat the pillows with a broom, then screamed some more when he saw it. He’s better now.

    I should be hearing back from Kohl’s this week about a part time job. I very much need this job.

    I’m starting a college-wide biggest loser contest. The guy that loses the most body fat percentage wins like $100. That’s alot in college. Kind of. For me it is. Any suggestions of losing weight quickly?

    For our English Grammar class, we have to turn in three journal entries a week. Not journal as in a diary, but journal as in randomly writing whatever you feel like. I’ve been using a lot of the stuff I’ve put up here. Today I shortened Morning and used it. I love that story. Is it conceited to love your own work?

    I’ve made two pretty close friends. One is a crazy guy, kinda like me. The other is a short kinda bossy girl. Both are awesome. And both like each other, but don’t know that the other one likes them. Has that ever happened to you? It happens to me sometimes. Usually, I just encourage one to tell the other and it all works out great. But there’s a problem: the guy has a girlfriend. And he currently likes her more than our mutual friend. And has thrown the word engagement around a bit. Another problem: his girlfriend lives in California. He wants her to transfer up here, but the only way that could happen, says the father of the girlfriend, is if they were engaged. My friend says he’s gonna talk to the father about it around Christmas. Tigah’s prediction: Father says no, friend is devastated, couple breaks up, then the two friends get together, marry, and live happily ever after, and name their first kid after me. I’ll keep you posted about that one.

    Lastly, yes, I did meet a girl I like, but she likes this other guy, and I’m almost positive he likes her, and I don’t feel I should get in the way of that. So, I’m getting over it.

    I hope to have the newest Xeries up nest week sometime. Hope being the keyword. If I don’t have the mayor’s birthday party ready yet, then I’ll type up something to hold you over. Speaking of the Xeries, I still accept new characters. Click the link and let me know if you’re interested. It’d be awesome if I had a Xangan character for the mayor, or maybe the mayor’s opponent. Or Mr Tigah’s secretary. That’d be nice too.

    Anyway, have a great weekend everyone!

     

September 22, 2011