Treatment. Summary.

"Well, here I am. 23 years ago is when it all ended. I saw it happen. I saw the flames. The smoke was inevitable to dodge."

The beginning: A lonely girl starts out just being simple. She is pretty but not noticed that much. She stays to her self for the majority of the time but that doesn't stop people from seeing her. She is the kind of girl that is invisible because you don't want to see her. I am sure you know that type of person. She tries to be out going but it just fails miserably until someone says hello.

The Middle: They start to talk. He turns out to be this fairy tale of a guy. You know, the guy that ever girl dreams of. She falls for him, of course. He seems to be falling for her even though he really isn't. Every moment they spend together, they always are losing track of the time. It is a grand feeling but it isn't going to last.

The End: It ends pretty rough for her. She is crazy about him but he tells her she doesn't mean a thing to him. With that, her flame ends and his begins.

so this is lame but what is on my mind. sorry if it a suckfest.

the lies
draining from your lips.
your hands
clenching on to my hips.
my tears
wiped by my own finger tips.
laying alone
you couldnt be further away.
i know why you left
why you couldnt stay.
i feel
as though i was a toy for you to play.
a broken and used piano
with sticky keys.
no one else would want it
you heard the pleas.
i was calling out for something greater
this isn't what i need.
i hold on to my pillow
just like you, it wouldnt hold me back.
all the things i wanted
is all the things you lacked.
i remember when i got you mad
across my face you slapped.
the only time you'd hear me
is when tears were pouring out.
even though i was talking loudly
you couldn't hear me shout.
I'm moving out.

My Gift. Final Draft.

"Only a life lived for others is a life worthwhile."
-Albert Einstein

We are all guilty of a crime. The kind of crime nobody even notices the significance of who is affecting. It is the crime that everyone has been guilty of but yet nobody gets convicted. I know you who are reading this are guilty too; even I am guilty. How often have you walked passed someone crying whether it was a child or someone your age and did not speak a word? Did you ever stop to think the hell that they might be going through? Maybe their mother just passed away or maybe they found out that they have an illness, which might end them. I am sure it broke your heart just seeing another human in pain and you thought about how bad you feel for that person. Notice how you just thought and did not speak a word to them. You didn’t even sit down by them seeing if there is anything that you can do to help. How often have you driven past a car with their panic lights flashing and they are just sitting in the car? Did you stop by to help? Some of you may have, but how many times, once? You always have your phone on you, couldn't you let that person use it for a couple minutes to call for help or are you too paranoid that they would steal it from you? You hear all this hype about how these immigrants should not have the same rights as "native" American citizens. Just like these people who are immigrating now, we are all immigrants. The only difference is about 250 years. Our families were all in the same position but did they discriminate them back then? Did they deport them or did they welcome them? We hear these “immigrants” referred to the minority but if they are the minority, why would we care so much? Do they have value to you? Do they mean anything to you or are they just a nuisance to your life even if they leave you alone? How often have you walked passed a homeless man on a street corner holding up a sign that reads something along the lines of ANYTHING HELPS? Did you think that all he wants is money for crack and booze? For God's sake, the sign said anything helps, you could have ran into McDonald's and bought him a dollar menu hamburger or into Wal-Mart and bought him a candy bar. You are barely spending any money for that one item. He says anything helps, do you believe it? Have you tried giving him food? No, I am sure most people haven't. Did you even stop by and ask him questions or did you walk passed him as though he were invisible, just another cement block along the wall he is leaning against? When you walk passed him, did you avoid eye contact because you were afraid that he would mug you? How often do you put aside some time to help somebody else feel important; maybe somebody who doesn't have family, maybe somebody who is crying and just needs a shoulder to cry on, a person to listen to them, someone who cares, maybe somebody who just needs a simple phone call to have someone come get him or her. Is this the American Dream that our ancestors have sacrificed and died for? Did they die for us to become a selfish and ignorant society? Did they dive up everything for those people to be ignored? Did they die for the better of mankind, the better of their generations? Do you think that your ancestors would walk passed someone who is holding that sign and ignore them when they probably were homeless when they first came to America? Would you walk passed your own brother if he were holding that sign and ignore him or would you help him? I am a strong believer that people should step outside of their comfort zone, out of their safe haven, and really try to put themselves in others' shoes. I am aware that you personally cannot feel another persons’ pain the way that they do but if you can just see yourself having those problems, challenges, struggles and tried to feel the most small fraction of their pain, it will change your outlook completely. I hope that someday the people that surround us will try to see other people for people and not just objects. I hope that someday people will acknowledge that some people do not have it made as good as they do. I hope that you can go pay it forward and pass this message on. I'm starting this now, I'm not going to walk passed people as though they are invisible, if anything helps, anything does help, and I commit to acknowledging people for their validity.

My Gift

The gift I would like to give to someone is the gift of reality. So few people have grasped that idea that they are not the only people on this planet. There are so many other people, so many other problems and they are just to confined in one place to realize it. How often have you driven past a car with their panic lights flashing? How often have you walked passed a homeless man on a street corner and not said anything and avoided contact? Did you stop to ask them any questions or did you just walk passed them as though they were invisible? How often do you put aside some time for someone else that you haven't met and did some service? I am sure very few people have done such things. If there was one thing I could give to anyone, it would be reality.

Love Poem Attempt. This probably sucks... alot. Just a warning.

did I seriously fall for you?
did I seriously fall for your front?
I know that I'm young and stupid,
I am still learning.
does that give you an excuse?
does that give you an excuse to use me?
is this a little joke you play on every girl?
is it fair that you mention the other girls when you were with me?
was it necessary to mention her?
was it necessary to compare me to the rest of them?
really, was it right of you to treat me like shit the whole time?
well, at least part of the time.
for the first few minutes it was great.
you actually cared...you actually pretended to care.
you got me comfortable.
you got me to feel safe.
you got me to trust in you.
I still remember every line..lie.. that poured from your lips.
I honestly didn't know you were going to be this way.
I thought you would be better.
remember when you told me you were different?
I'm now putting that together.
you are different...from a gentlemen.
from someone who cares.
someone who gives a damn.
you're different...than who you told me you would be.
thanks to you i can actually walk on my own 2 feet.
I know what i want.
I know what TO look for.
someone who exactly the opposite from you.
and guess what.
I found that.
your exact opposite.
he actually cares.
he doesn't use me like a pair of favorite shoes.
he doesn't treat me like i am nothing, emotionless.
he makes me feel worth something.
he makes me feel beautiful.
something you have NEVER made me feel.
so thank you for using me, thank you for making me cry, thank you for lying to me, and thank you more importantly for letting me feel low.
thank you.

my life.

I was born
like everyone else.
I was raised by parents
like everyone else.
I was taught
like everyone else.
But I twisted everything I learned into what I wanted it to be.

I remember....

I remember my favorite stuffed animal, a cat named Custard, she was the best stuffed animal....until my dog devoured it...
I remember my first dance class...at my first recital I was dancing and eating out of my bag of peanuts and my leotard was very tight and it would bunch up in all the wrong places...
I remember my first kiss...it was from a kid named Austin who was trying to save me from a kid who thought that he was a jedi and stalked me...sometimes when I would piss off this jedi kid he would say "don't make me take out my light sabor"...
I remember when my grandpa came down to visit us after he went through chemo therapy and we were eating fresh picked nectarines and he showed us his toe nails...they all came off...
I remember swings, sand, and slides...one time after a kid jumped off of a swing, I ran infront of it and it hit me in the head and I bled...alot...
I remember the sounds of the ocean, I would run out there in the water and when the tide came in I would run for my life from it...but since I was probably about 5 I didn't run fast enough...it caught up with me...
I remember playing in the backyard with my sister and we pretended we were dinosaurs...
I remember when I would get my sister very mad she would yell at me saying "I HOPE YOU FALL INTO A BOTTOMLESS PIT!"
I remember my first time I slapped a guy for being a jerk...he deserved it...
I remember a time when a boy told me he loved me...he was talking with me and said, "I love you" and I replied with "uhh...I have to go to class...bye!!!" Obviously...he didnt talk to me after that...
I remember when I prank called someone and forgot to block my number...bad idea...
I remember when my sister and I would reinact scences from plays, musicals and movies...those were the only times she would really say I love you with out adding "When you aren't annoying me..."
I remember smoking it up.
I remember giving up.
I remember making it back.

Stan #11

Dear Stan,
I thought I knew you so well; I thought you were someone else. Evidently, I just fell for your front. How long have I been with you for now? Too long. I remember, but you can't. Something is wrong with that. Everytime I am around you, you always mention the other girls, you mention the rest of them. Am I like them? When I get you alone, you still talk about her. You still talk about the things she does, the things she would do. Do I remind you that much of her? God, I sure hope not. You have changed so much since I first met you. You were so good to me, you held me tight, you kissed my nose. You were the greatest thing I have ever had. You showed me how a guy should treat me. You were amazing in the beginning. I could never have imagined to be treated so good, to feel loved, to feel needed but then you changed. You now use me every chance we're alone. You use me infront of your friends. You tell me to keep my mouth shut when we are around people so I am not an embarrassment to you. You just want me on your arm to show the world that you could catch me. That you own me. Well you know what? You don't own me. I am not an object. Evidently, I am worthless to you. I mean nothing. I'm yesterdays newspaper, just throw me out on the curb along with all your other garbage. You would always talk yourself up saying how you are different from all the other guys out here, that you cared more, that you treated girls with more respect but no, you are just like every other guy out there. I thought you were different. Evidently not. The hell did I do wrong? Nothing. Why can't you see all that you were, all that we could have been. Why did you pretend to be someone else? Why were you being fake with me? I was falling for you, I was falling way too hard. What happened to that? You were falling too. What happened to that? What happened to who you used to be? You were so good, you were so grand, but you lied! You blend in with all the people around you, trying to be someone you're not, and you are doing pretty good at it. Can't you see that you are not meant to be some conformist bastard? You're different, well at least you were, but now baby, I am done being used by you, I am done being hurt by you. As I am about to fall in, nothing you can do or say can stop me now, Honey, I hope these words echo in your mind: YOU COULD HAVE SAVED ME FROM DROWNING.

Impulse Deux

Franz: this is a cozy little place, isn't it?
Kate: yeah if you call cozy harboring bacteria and microscopic organisms that will put an end to all human LIFE!!
Franz: Okay, well...how are you?
Kate: I am fine. The ozone layer is still there, I am not dying from radiation from the sun. Slowly I am though, and so are you. You know you can't stop it from happening.
Franz: Oh, okay...where are you from?
Kate: Belmont, Massachusetts. I live at McLean.
Franz: Oh..what is that city like?
Kate: Actually it is not a city. It's what you civilians call an "asylum". I like to call it a nice community of people who think they are animals and their best friends are forks and the paint peeling off of the walls.
Franz: Right. And I am Hitler.
Kate: Seriously? Oh shiz..I better run away, my family are jews!
Franz: Well, alrighty. It was nice meeting you Kate. Have fun with the paint peeling off the walls!
(picks up his stuff and runs out)
Kate: I love shutting annoying guys down. Hmm...Now where is Joey? (Looks at a wall) There's his cousin, Paul!

Sketch...y

His precious candle lights up in the darkest of dark, brightest of day, like a glowing coal that ceases to be put out. He and his candle are inseparable. She sometimes wonders if his candle is more important than her. She is his girl, but the candle seems to take the place of her. Everyday, every chance he gets, no matter what the situation is, he goes off alone with the company of his candle to light it until there is nothing left but its fragrance lingering. He lights his candle to release the pain, to release the emotions, release the feeling, to escape for the moment as though he is some where else. Once finished with his candle, he goes back to her. He treats her like an angel until the candle beckons him to come back to it, to be lit, to be touched, to be held. Its call, its sound, its feel, rings in his mind, the feel of it is still on his fingers, the smell of it draws him in. Echoing in his mind, it is as though it was a siren, now its wailing, screeching through his mind, now its speaking to him in its soft sound, drawing him in. He leaves her for a moment for time alone with his candle, but what he isn't seeing is this love for his candle is tearing him and her apart, it pushes her away. She is moving on with him by her side. It makes it easier for her to move on because she sees everything that is falling apart with them and the love he has for the candle. It feels as though it is an affair he is having with his candle. In the past week he has held the candle more than he has her. His love for the candle is so strong, so immense. As though him and the candle were Romeo and Juliet, it would ultimately be the poison his lips would press against, touch, grace, the sword he unsheathes and holds to his chest and penetrates through his flesh. The love and passion for the candle would kill him. Maybe not soon, but it eventually would.

The Impulse

SCENE 1

(Driver looks over a few times and focuses back on the road and the rain.)
Passenger: What do you want?
Driver: What do you mean?
Passenger: You keep looking over at me… Do I have something stuck in my teeth?
Driver: No
Passenger: Is my make up smeared? Is my hair messed up?
Driver: No, nothing is wrong with how you look. You look fine to me!
Passenger: Then why do you constantly look at me? It makes me think that there is a stain on my shirt or something.
Driver: It isn’t that, it’s just I don’t really know what to say or where to go from here.
Passenger: What’s wrong?
Awkward silence
Passenger: Well?
Driver: I don’t know, it’s just been a tough year. My dad got sent to prison for his second time, he broke his parole, my brother had a drug bust and is going to juvi, my mom, well she is hardly around. I just, I just am not sure. And on top of that, my dog got ran over. That put the icing on the cake. The red icing…
Passenger: Blaine, I am so sorry! I had no idea what had been going on!
Driver: its fine I guess. I mean, you didn’t do anything wrong.
Passenger: I know but still! I feel bad.
Driver: I pretty much have lost my family. All I have left is you. I am scared to lose you now. I know that probably sounds queer or femme but it’s true and you know how much I hate sounding all emotional or whatever, Heather.
Passenger: You won’t lose me. I will always be here for you. I love you, Blaine.
Driver: I love you too.

Non-Existant

Driving in the rain. Almost home. One more exit until they can get off. Rain pouring. Swerving truck in the wrong lane. Headlights heading closer. Head on collision. Hearts slowly beating. Metal grinding, denting inward. Glass breaking, shattering all over the pavement. Shattering all over them. Wounds that cannot be healed. Sirens drawing nearer. Last thing seen; flashing lights. Hospital room beep, beep, beep. Drifting away into a state of deeper unconsciousness. Family surrounding. Tears of heartache pouring from eyes. "It may be fatal, but we will try our best." Time passes. Several attempts. Worst words to hear. "There is nothing more to do. Say your last good byes."
It is never a good thing to attend a funeral for children. It is never a pleasant thing to see when it is a brother and a sister. Family stand around, catching the last glimpse of their babies, wallowed in their own misery and selfishness. They think that it is their fault and they want them back. Do they ever stop to consider that maybe it was just their time to go? Maybe there is a greater plan for them? Maybe there is a stronger force than what is in this home people call Earth? Maybe there is a better place to be than here trapped with a bunch of people. Perhaps, if there is a life after this, the ones on the other side wanted them to be there.

Intro

"I'm never alone. I'm alone all the time. Are you at one or do you lie? We live in a wheel or where everyone steals. When we rise it is like strawberry fields. I treated you bad, you bruised my face. Couldnt love you, boy, you've got a beautiful taste."

Glycerine- Bush

Am I a reader or a writer? It all depends on the material I am reading. I tend to get lost inside the lyrics of a song but I do not expect that to be called reading. If I am reading a book, it seldom captures my attention but if I am reading a poem or a peice that actually means something to somebody it brings me to a whole different level. If it talks about how someone is feeling now or at a point in their life, it opens my eyes. I can put myself into their position.

When I write, I tend to base characters on people I know, friends that I spend my time with, struggles people I know have had. When I write, it isn't usually some mystical fairy tale about unicorns, dragons, and prince charming; when I write, it doesn't always have a happy ending because in real life, endings do not end happy for everybody. I can elaborate a bit in my work but I tend to keep the plot real, the people real, the situations possible, the story imaginable.

So, the question. Reader or writer? I would much rather get lost in my own imagination than some 72 year old mans' imagination who is blazing it every night to get more inspiration.