The Retrospective Writings

A Life of Hand-Me-Downs – Written 5/12/15 Some would consider being born the youngest a curse, living a life in the shadows of your siblings and always feeling like you must live up to or better their achievements. Some may see it as a blessing, a way to be spoiled without guilt, or a chance to learn or approve upon their mistakes. I saw it as a little of both. My real curse was being born the day after Christmas and having to live with the dreaded combination of both birthday and Christmas gifts all in one pleasant package, which I actually quickly grew to love and appreciate. I also lived life with a series of hand-me-down gifts (or rather, donations), which were typically beat down and outdated, but which also inadvertently helped to shape my life and mold me into who I am today. My father is a lover of hobbies; he loves to fish, hike, camp, fart, and partake in many other outdoor (or bathroom related) activities, but is mainly an advocate of anything that is hands-on. As a

So here is the second short story I have written and a song that I wanted to post along with it that I created in my Music Production class last year. The song took about two months to create and mix on a program called Reason, and I know it's not perfect, but it's what I could complete in time to turn in before the quarter ended. All instruments are played by me via a MIDI keyboard into the program's interface, where I had pretty much set up a studio within the computer. Mixing took forever to learn and was the most difficult part of it, but I got it done just in time. It is best to listen to the song with headphones. Hopefully I can get back to writing music soon. With the story, it was written a couple of years ago during one of my prison stints, so it is still in rough, rough, rough draft mode, but I just wanted to transfer it from paper to computer in case I ever lose it (as I have a tendency to do with most stuff I own). The dialogue is scarce, and the detail is...we

The Ultimate Script: Inspired by Dave Barry – Written in jail, 4/24/15 Episode One – The Harshest of Tones Starring: Liam Neeson Jason Statham Voice of Reason Woman Jack Bauer Wise Black Lady Batman (Begin Scene) We enter into the scene on an airplane in midflight. The cabin is dark and most people aboard are sleeping. Others bob their heads to music or are talking quietly. We zoom in on a man sitting in his seat, reading a magazine. We pan to another man talking to the pretty woman next to him. The camera then pans behinds him to show our main man, Liam, sipping from a flask that he reached out of his pocket. His phone then buzzes, alerting him of a text. Text: Hello Liam. Liam’s text: Who is this? Text: If you want to know, you’ll have to play my game to figure it out. Liam’s text: What game? What do you want? Text: I have your daughter. If you want to ever see her again, you’ll need to wire me one million dollars. If you do not comply, one person wi

Once – Written in prison, 4/15/2016 Part II             Once I was fifteen years old, and life had begun to really make me fold. Strife would always bring on my low self-esteem, as if it were some sort of engrained new strain of a virus type of thing. All it would bring on was this new feeling of depression, and my life started feeling so damn compressed, then. There was sports, school, and family trips to resorts with swimming pools. I was constantly attracted—also distracted—to girls, new cars, and going to the bazaar to look at and envy those who smoked cigars. I had no time to savor or employ the activities that were supposed to be bringing me joy. Life seemed to be a ploy, but I have a confession, and I won’t be coy: but I met a girl that year. Soon she would unfurl into the first love I knew, adding some cheer to the gears that wound my strifed-life. This chick named Dana really knew how to tame a boy like me. My life became thick with game, a chance at fame, a life n

Once – Written in prison, 4/15/2016 Part I             Once I was four years old, still doing whatever I was told. Bold as ever, always thinking I was clever, and never quite sold to the fact that I had to grow old. I shed tears over petty fears with my head always near my momma’s chest, telling her my best lies with my loud cries just to get what I thought I always wanted but really just wanting to be held near and dear to her heart. Back then, things were easy, always so breezy, I wasn’t yet crazy or lazy, but yet it was still crazy and zany how time would fly by, but maybe, just maybe, I didn’t have to grow old after all. I can, like Peter Pan, stay small.             But then I turned five and my long days at preschool arrived. I was cast down from momma’s arms, trying to tread head first, not trying to cause no harm. I had a yearning for learning, dove head first with a burning. My teacher thought she was some type of feature, but even she couldn’t stop me from churning

This was written by me while I was homeless in Seattle sometime in 2015. At the time of writing, I was staying in the hospital, all hopped up on drugs because I was detoxing from alcohol and going through withdrawals. There are many errors within, yet the message remains the same. It will forever be etched in my memory and provided a solid foundation which sparked my newfound love of writing. The Hardness of The Homeless Some of you live in big cities, some of you don't. But some of the cruelty and pure ignorance of the people that I see bites me to the bones. It can be simple kicking of a pigeon (who are quite annoying, I know) just trying to do their thing, to passing someone who is just crashed out in the middle of the sidewalk, not stopping to see if they’re ok.  Now I know in downtown King County alone we have 10,007 homeless on the streets.  I am part of that number.  Yes, some nights I sleep in parks or under overpasses, getting my stuff stolen and beaten up for t