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He was born, and then  died

 

 

The love of my life gone

 

Gone to war, came home never

First zombie appears, shot zombie. Done

Tough roads now but sunshine ahead.

Oh they don't bite! Never return.

Sweet smiles, hidden secretes in it.

"Perfect sunny weather tomorrow!" Clouds outside.

Departed at noon, arrived by dawn.

1.     •   Best friends. Boyfriend Cheated, Friend Gone.

2.     •    Stressed. Took a vacation, never came back.

3.     •     One night. Baby came. Father left.

4.      

Wife: oooooOO!! You are better than my loser husband … don’t stop

Husband: wake up!!!! Are you being unfaithful?!!

Wife: don’t judge me! I can’t control my dreams …

1. Her eyes wandering, his love misplaced.

2. His father's sweater but his mistakes.

3. Painted ceiling blue, hid from sky.

4. "Please excuse my dust"*. Cremation messy.

5. Painted ceiling blue, forgot the sky.

6. Painted ceiling blue, cursed the sky.


*Originally said by the seminal Ms. Dorothy Parker. (She is just darling...)

            She always wondered where her life may lead as a young girl never knowing  what she wanted was right in front of her. As time went on she became intent on never fully knowing what her future had to offer and she accepted that. She accepted that she was ordinary a little less the average and bleak like her tan bedroom walls, she was fine with that. As others came into them she did not but remained the little girl sitting on the swing alone. All throughout middle school she was always the one sitting alone passing the time with literature because to her that was her friend her escape those grand Arthurs understood.  The Mark Twains and people of that nature comprehended what she went through understood that a simple girl like her felt the world pass her on. When high school presented itself in her life she walked the high school hallways as a ghost to timid to share her voice and too shy for anyone to acknowledge her. There she became friends with Maya Angelou and the Emily Dickinson’s of the world. Though the authors may of changed she didn’t just advanced her reading material. Still after so long she pondered of her purpose in the world never fully ok with the not living she now didn’t accept that she waited on the sidelines of life. She hated that she had no friends but authors with exceptional lives with power/money and most of all notoriety.   As she grew more and more unhappy she banished those thoughts not knowing who she was but bitter wasn’t one of them allowing her to see a little about whom the girl was. She laughed that still at the age of teenager she still saw herself as a girl not yet a teenager but a little girl. She accepted everything day after day she walked around and day after day she sat alone in the class while peers joked around and teachers called on students oblivious to the fact of her existence. She accepted it and she learned that her day will come and when it dose she would no longer sit one the sideline but, it will be her turn to live. No longer would she ponder the unknown but be ready to grab her life by the horns and live. One week her life would be forevermore changed and never the same this week would be her defining moment. This week was the game where nothing else mattered the few second on the clock where she had to make the shoot win or loose black or white no in-between. That week she became an official women always the late bloomer but she slowly but surely came into her self centimeter by centimeter. She was still the timid little girl who didn't share her voice but she walked a little bolder with her head slightly upright. A day after her new found strength the next defining moment would take place her call her purpose would present herself. First of all to understand this you would have to know she was very observant quiet but very intuitive in her surroundings. In the middle of the day she sat in class while others joked and were to busy with there lives she sat with her book. As she read she smelled something funny a scent of hotness. Not familiar at first with it she left the book open and wondered in the halls to see what it was. A few flights up she saw what that the smell was a fire which grew in size. She rushed to her class & yelled on the way there while no one paying her no mind. She rushed in the room in a frenzy trying to get everyone to safety but no one even noticed in a quick thought she pulled the fire alarm making everyone gather there belonging to the designated exit.  When she saw them moving out she followed them while everyone consumed with there own lives she heard a yell for help making her turn around to help once again. Someone was locked in the elevator thinking it was a false alarm with aghast of inner strength this became her defining moment the point where she came into herself. She knew what her future was but to help and save a life in a calm voice she reassured her fellow peer and began pressing the emergency exit and with luck it opened but then closed. Uable to keep it opened herself she ran and got the fire extinguisher and pressed the button once more making it open but instead of closing again jammed the extinguisher in the opening setting the peer free. Now the smoke filled her lungs and her surroundings with that last of hope fail to the ground and knew she accepted no none knew her or acknowledged her because she saved a life and her purpose was fulfilled.  As she closed her eyes she fail into a deep sleep that she would never leave. In the upcoming days there was talk about the student who saved there lives and wondered why they haven’t known her.  

Im currently in my SAT class; with Don Marcos. The students are now doing an art project based on famous artists from spanish speaking countries. They are making an art gallery and mounting their art and their artists' art on different colored art paper. Don Marcos has a calculator out, doing something on his computer while he gives me a few minutes to finish this English post. Today is the last school dance (for seniors at least) and I will not be attending. I have never been to a dance here at school. It's really never been my thing. Partying is not my thing actually.I love being to myself. I have to go pick up my phone after school. I thought I lost it; i mean I did but I'm getting it back. Apparently I left it on the trolly on my way to school. The woman who found it called my friend ( i guess he was the last person I called or texted) and made him pay her $50 to return it. SMH! whatever happened to a good deed? O well, I'm grateful.

Another life made better from being part of SLA Cappella.

Rick, Prisilla, Jesús

Amaris Romero, Joseph Parisi, Zillah Hernandez, Sammi Beattie

Blase Biello
Anwar Abdul-Qawi
Anthony Torrance
Ibrahim Ridley (SORRY HIS NAME WAS LEFT OUT OF THE CREDITS)

There once lived three special horses atop a very high cliff in Northern California. But these were not your run-of-the-mill-carriage-pulling-neigh-neigh-whinny-snicker-clippity-clop horses. No, these horses were so much more. These horses... had a destiny.

The first horse was named Job. Job was an admittedly clumsy horse, always tangling his hooves and inhaling flies (yes, this was due to clumsiness). In fact, Job was more than clumsy; he was out of his mind. Like how I made that jump? Yep, Job was sick in the head.  Off his rocker. Not all there. Nuts. Bamboozled. On crack. Well, maybe not on crack. Job tried every day to impress the ladyhorses, but he would inevitably trip over a crack in the ground or inhale a fly and scare them away forever.

The second horse was named Buster. (Yes, I know what you're thinking. Just like Arthur's cheeky rabbit friend.) Buster was a gentleman if there ever was one. He would always clack his hooves politely at horses he passed in the street, and he would always be seen with a shiny mane and, of course, his trusty monocle. Buster owned and managed several successful businesses and, unofficially, one night club.

I never did catch the third horse's real name. I knew him only as Colonel Tom. When I tell you that this horse had a mustache, I mean this horse had a mustache. I mean, seriously. This horse had a mustache! Right above his nose. It was possibly the most amazing thing I have ever seen in my entire life. I never did catch how he managed to grow that mustache. Huh. Anyway, Colonel Tom never talked much. When he did, it was usually in the form of strung-together profanities aimed at someone named "Annabelle." Probably his sister. Horses are largely familial creatures.

Repent now-- avoid the Doomsday rush.

Short skirt, tall drink, fun night.

Dancer seeking employment; significant serving experience

He parts the sea of wine.

Dead hooker. Bloody sheets. Burn everything.

Underwater wedding, no suits. You're invited.

Don't touch, didn't listen, now hand-less.

Hey everybody,
We are FISIKS or Franklin Institute Stewards In Knowledge Sharing. We are a club dedicated to posting and delivering information about ongoing and upcoming events at The Franklin Institute. So please look forward to future posts by us about The Franklin Institute's events and updates from us. Thanks and have a wonderful day!!!!!!

Home alone, or so she thinks...

Perfection, a misconception – ends in rejection.

 

I was always curious about what this show was about. So, I'm scrolling through the on DEMAND at my fathers house and I see the 2nd and 3rd season on there so I decided to check it out. I was watching True Blood for the next two weeks. I would walk downstairs and my dad would try to talk to me and I'd just start screaming. I was literally traumatized from the 2nd season. It was like watching a horror flick and mixed with the nudity of American Pie. In my head, I'm thinking, Narcissa you are crazy for looking at this, what were you thinking. My mind was so messed up, that i couldn't sleep with out having a picture of the monsters and blood that went on in the show. I had to stop looking at the show for about 3 month before I got the strength to look at any horror flick.