Kenobi15's blog

Nothing

Life begins, we reach new heights,
We walk after no time at all.
Sooner than a flash of white,
We’re proud and standing tall.

Life’s given us new wings at last,
We’re able now to fly.
We’re locked in now, the die is cast,
We still are soaring high.

Nothing ever lasts forever,
That’s something we must know,
Life goes on regardless
Through it’s highs and through it’s lows.

We’re walking towards the sunset now
With a determined pace.
Perhaps it’s not the why but how,
We wound up in this place.

And then the night engulfs the sea,
We watch it as it goes.
We’ve survived the day, it seems to be,
With much more friends than foes.

Nothing ever lasts forever,
That’s something we must know,
Life goes on regardless
Through it’s highs and through it’s lows.

It’s a struggle to get up,
just to get out of bed,
To go where it all ended,
Trying to forget what’s been said.

It’s just going through the motions,
Until it’s all gone away,
They say it all takes time,
But be that as it may,

What do I do,
When every single day,
I so badly want to talk,
But I don’t know what to say?

It’s a façade of reality,
An illusion of satisfaction,
When everything’s a wreck,
And all is just a fraction,

Of what it once was,
Of what it still could be,
But hopeless optimism,
Never benefited me.

There's nothing I can say.
My silent screams abound,
I want to get away, to forget,
But I cannot make a sound.

Trapped in a shell,
Like a moth in a cocoon.
How is it that everything ended,
So suddenly, so soon?

As though all the pieces
Of my puzzling life,
Seperated all at once,
Causing undue pain and strife.

Acceptance is the hardest step,
Accepting what’s now gone,
Accepting that the world won’t stop,

Are you happy? You act like nothing affects you, like this was just a minor bump in the road. It mattered to me, though. I am there. I wanted to be a part of your life. Why didn't you let me? Why do you push me out? Why am I at the beginning again? I hate pretending not to know you because you don't even look at me. I hate this separation.
I look at old photographs, and I remember all the fun we had.
It wasn't long ago.
All it was was late summer nights, hang outs by the lake, only us. It was perfect.
But you forced me away, then gave up when I asked of you what I'd been doing for you all along.
Why do I still care? Why can't I forget you? Why have you forgotten me so easily?
You pushed me out of your life incredibly easy.
All of the things we planned will never happen now. It's crushed into a meaningless void, like so much else.
Why is it so easy for you? Why is it so hard for me?
Will it ever be the same?
Will I ever be the same?

He walks quietly through the woods,
The darkness is setting the tone.
Despite his confident demeanor,
The traveler walks alone.

Isolation is not an enemy,
He’s dealt with it long before,
But he misses the haven behind him,
And fears what else is in store.

He’s unsure of the way forward,
The woods are strange to him now.
He knows he must venture onward,
But he is still quite unsure how.

His sanctuary long behind him,
No longer a welcoming place,
The traveler continues onward,
Sadly, he quickens his pace.

He no longer relishes the darkness,
He wants to return to his home.
Despite his hopes, dreams, and wishes,
The traveler walks alone.

Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog is the greatest show ever.
Ever.
That is all.

Chapter One
The First Day Back

It’s the first day of my Senior Year at Jefferson High, and I am incredibly nervous. I clutch a small sheet of paper with my schedule on it and hurry to the front steps. I stop for a moment, relishing my last free moments without an ocean of homework. Several kids I don’t know rush past me to get inside, apparently eager to start the year. Typical Freshmen.
It’s not that I don’t like school, but I haven’t exactly loved Jefferson High since I’ve been here. The truth is, I transferred to Jefferson mid-way through last year. Even though I have been here for a while, I’m still an outsider. My dad’s a surgeon, and apparently he’s something of a big deal, because various hospitals are clamoring to have him. He gives lectures at conferences nearly every weekend, so I rarely see him, but it’s not like that’s really a problem for him.

You know, at the very end of the story, when most if not all of the loose ends are tied up? That's what last week was like. So, why is it that so many things were resolved in one week? Ties were broken, mended, and completely severed, but why? Why now? Why is it now that things are changing? Is it because these resolutions wouldn't occur later? Is it that things are supposed to turn full circle? Why is that I find myself in a similar position to three years ago? Are these friendships mended simply because I wanted them to be fixed? Are the severed ties permanently that way? Is there hope for more? For another chance? Am I supposed to let friendships that are certainly ended stay that way?
Is there a reason for everything?
Or are we simply living in a chaotic, nonsensical world that has no rhyme or reason?
It's frustrating to have so many questions, and so few answers. But I guess that's the definition of living, though, isn't it? I suppose I might as well get over it.

I am isolated.
Shut off.
Cut off at the source.

Why?
Because of friendship?
Because of ties
that will be broken?
Because of an alliance that exists
on the illusion of being "there",
when, in fact,
it is not reciprocated?

There is no such thing
as a one sided relationship.
It ends like a fire
squelched of it's fumes,
and reduced to ash.

How long can this cocoon
contain me, until I finally choose to break free?
The time draws closer with every tick of the clock.

One week from today I will be in school.
How disheartening is this news?
I'll be forced to awaken early,
when all I want to do is snooze.

This summer's been quite long, it seems,
and simultaneously, quite short.
Soon I'll dust off my cleats,
and begin again to play that sport.

So much has happened since the day
I drove away in my new(ish) car,
this summer's been spectacular,
as all good summers are.

This summer's had many memories,
Boy's State, Indianapolis,
California, movies, ice cream heists,
golf, work, three words, and more summer bliss.

I've made new friends and been content
with these new experiences of mine.
And so, farewell summer of '08,
here comes school year '08-'09.

This is the first part of a new story I'm writing called Heist. It will be told at various different times in the week surrounding the robbery, including different accounts of the heist. Any comments would be appreciated, and more will be uploaded soon!

3 Days After
3:46 PM

The security guard paused the footage taken several days ago, thrusting his cigar at the screen. “Right there!” he wheezed. The black and white footage had stopped as a figure on the screen wearing a black mask stared at the camera, holding a bag of money. The Americon bank at the corner of West and Third had been robbed three days ago, and three primary suspects had been detailed. All in all, a sizeable amount of money had been taken by one man—very suspicious circumstances. The lone robber had been exceedingly careful about being caught on camera. His work was so diligent that all of the cameras had been shot out before they had a chance to catch him in the act: but he had forgotten one.

After plans changed earlier tonight, Ethan and I decided to go to hit a bucket of balls at the driving range, and then decided to get ice cream. We arrived at the window and saw a girl waiting to take our order. I noticed that there was a coconut flavored soft serve available. I asked the cashier if it was good, and she offered me some. I accepted, and decided to get that flavor.
Meanwhile, however, Ethan overheard the exchange.
"Hey, is brownie batter good?"
"If you like chocolate, yeah." she said, rebuffing his obvious attempt at free icea cream.

I've just returned from california and, I suppose it's needless to say I had an excellent time (it was california, after all). Anyway, an experience in the ocean led me to decide to write about my vicious battle with the waves.

Me versus the waves.
I will not be defeated.
Regardless, I lose.

The next morning we woke up and went straight to breakfast, where we were informed that we had another few hours to sleep. Ethan and I hurried back to our rooms and collapsed for another hour. After another breakout session and state meeting, we boarded the bus to go to community service.
We arrived in the state park and, after hearing a commencement speech, we all paused for a picture. Until that moment, I hadn't realized the sheer amount of people there...it was insane. Afterwards, Ethan and I went towards the center of the park on another bus to go clean up a different section of the park. An older man of about 60 saw us approaching the truck to get trash bags and gloves and asked us if we wanted to paint instead. We agreed and got in the back of the open truck. The road was rather bumpy and unpaved in some parts, resulting in us nearly falling out several times. Thankfully, we were spared.

I wrote this a few months ago, and I thought I'd upload it here, too. This is a true story, and none of it was made up.

Noah's POV

This occurred on my birthday, 2008. We filmed some awesome stuff, and decided to go into the woods to film a routine bloody hell. And that was how it started. Brett, Ethan, Alex, and I were filming a bloody hell and then Alex and I remember this video me made 2 years ago (on 6/6/06 nonetheless) and we found a dismantled tent with coke cans and a red shirt with a pillow ripped open. Flashforward to now, and we arrive. The first semi creepy thing was that the tent was standing up halfway. Someone had stood up the tent, and Brett noticed it was like perfect for one man to sit inside.

Do pirates get sunburned a lot?

Entrance
The tickets clutched safely in the palm of my hand,
time is running out, a hourglass's loss of sand,
the lights go down, the band comes out,
the start to play, there is no doubt,
this is the time of our lives.

Music blaring,
people stamping,
lights flashing,
players riffing,
fans screaming,
this is the time of our lives.

The music is coursing through my veins,
as they begin the chorus to "All the Same"
we scream and jump, and sing along,
and listen to those blasting songs,
this is the time of our lives.

The band concludes and closes up,
an encore demanded from the Sick Pups,
they rush out and play twice more,
then end it for good, and we head for the door.
that was the time of our lives.

I left off Part 1 with an ending that sounded exciting and mysterious. It was exciting for me, although not at all mysterious...my girlfriend had left for Australia 2 weeks prior, and I had missed her call a few days after she had arrived. I had kept my phone on after that in the hopes of talking to her, but I had only done so once, about a week after her initial call. (At one point, Ethan called me very late at night and I was sure that it was my girlfriend...to say the least, I was rather upset that it was Ethan, and I used some choice words that expressed my anger at being woken from a sound sleep, but that's another story). At any rate, I was finally able to talk to her about her time in Australia. I was really excited that after a series of trial and error (like a bad episode of one of those annoying shows where the communication is screwed up for a half an hour every week) I was able to talk to her. After that, I entered the main hallway for the main ceremonies.

Hello everyone,
I returned last night, thoroughly exhausted but very much enthused about the 4 day trip I had just taken. The following is an account of everything that occured while we were away--all in all, it was a great trip.We left the night of the sixteenth and drove up to Burlington--we being Ethan, Drew, and myself. We arrived at around 9:30 and Ethan and I went to our room. Since we had to get up the next morning at the ungodly hour of 5 AM, all of us decided that sleep should be soon and as long as possible.
Of course, Ethan and I planned to be asleep at 11 for 6 hours of sleep...not great, but certainly better than nothing. However, we continued to talk, joke, and laugh until 1:15 AM. Definitely not recommended when at 5 AM the thoughts of killing the person calling to wake you up overshadow everything else.

Hello everyone!
Right now, I am working on several stories, one, a shorter humorous piece called Dreamwalker, which is about a man who becomes mysteriously able to control his dreams, but things quickly get out of hand when his dreams start to become reality...and, for my thesis project for the Honors Program in high school, I am writing a novella about a reporter (Sam Dodger) who finds the body of his high school classmate in Central Park. This discovery prompts the realization that his boss and some fellow coworkers are also mysteriously tied to the murder.
I've finished the rough draft, and I'm going back through and editing the entire piece, and I'm almost finished with the first edit. The only problem with the novella is that I am not sure what to title it. If anyone has any ideas of what to title it when I post the story, or if even the description is enough to warrant a title, I'd really appreciate it.
That's about all for now!

~Noah