Yeah, It's a Green Stop Sign.

How can I tell her?

How, in my inferior being
can I articulate the burning
deep within my heart?

Insurmountable beauty radiates
from her entirety
No man can ignore it

a smile so radiant
a laugh so contagious
a love so pure
so perfect

I can't tell her
No, no I can't tell her
the truth
the way i feel.

I don't fear action
I fear a consequence

I'm hopeless
I'm the frog, not the prince
She's the princess

I'm sitting here
wasting my time
wishing I knew
what to do.

I'm sitting here
without a paddle.

Blinked

Memory Lane's a rough place
misery, love, and hurt
tagged on street signs.

Visiting for the weekend,
walking down the alleyway
I found my past.

I nearly remembered
my youth.

Rough as it was,
I stopped
and looked around.

Life, progress, confusion,
holidays, trips, siblings,
baseball, birthdays, guitar,
strange thoughts, crushes... driving

No one knows me
no one cares to know me
no one can make me care if they care
no one can stop me
Now or forever.

Memory Lane's a rough place
misery, love, and hurt
helps me become...
Me.

I Remember

I remember birth.

I remember innocence.

I remember the days of old; rather, the days of youth.

I remember preschool, the pool, and popcorn chicken.

I remember swimming lessons. Mom was so proud.

I remember beating up defenseless children

as the bully of the playground, the respected.

I remember the best show ever, Blues Clues.

I remember my stash of matchbox cars and hot wheels.

I remember innocence.

I remember leaving Ohio.

I remember getting my sisters in trouble.

I remember my phobia of rollercoasters.

I remember innocence.

I remember young love.

I remember young love as pointless.

I remember sixth grade.

I remember innocence.

I remember junior high racing past as I briefly closed my eyes.

I remember missing a good lunch.

I remember choir.

I remember my first sister leaving.

I remember the second one leaving.

I remember being alone.

I remember guitar.

I remember the desire I had to learn songs that I now know.

I remember my tastes in music as they progressed.

I remember the first Metallica song I heard.

I remember getting turned on.

I almost remember innocence.

I remember chasing my dreams.

I remember waking up this morning

wondering if it's worth it

wondering if I can make it through the day

wondering what people think of me

I remember the words of my father.

I remember rebirth.

Journal Entry

The Scientist # 12

How could he get over what just happened? He broke into silent sobs, fighting to control his emotions. He couldn't think about his wrist right now. He had experienced a great loss. It wasn't long before the man fell to his knees. Smoke was ascending high into the air. The heat from the flames was incredible. He was gasping for breath.

What just happened? It all went so fast. With the force of an atomic bomb, the research lab finally detonated along with everyone inside it. He leaped with all his might away from the building to the cold, hard ground. Sprinting from the building, his strength finally gave out.

He reached the door, and he kicked it open violently. He could see it—the exit. In desperation, he flew down the last fight of stairs. Three quarters, now. He was halfway there. Those horrible people, he thought. Why would they do this? Trying to get as far as he could from the situation at hand, he began his hurried journey. About twenty flights, he wasn't sure if he could make it. There were the stairs. In his hysteria, he lost his mind; which way was the exit?

Tears filling his eyes, he regrettably turned from them all and ran away, away, away... "Okay," he said, "but you've left me no choice. I'm so sorry."

"Don't worry about us, just go! It's better for one of us to live than for all of us to go up in smoke!"

"I can't leave all of you!" he yelled.

"You have to go," one of them told him.

His friends and coworkers at the lab looked at him solemnly. Apparently, those people had kept their word... A loud computerized voice on the intercom rang out, telling them all that they had one minute prior to detonation. He wondered if those criminals had done what they said they would do. The man had been told to stand and keep watch, not to move. This was as bad of a situation as you could get. As he stood there, he thought of his wife and his son.

The Menu Guy

Menu Guy (MG): Man, I wish I could read. (Puts down menu)
Pam: You're illiterate?
MG: No, I said I can't read.
Pam: Umm... It's the same thing.
MG: Is it, now?
(SiLeNcE)
Pam: I wish the waiter would hurry up.
MG: What? Why?
Pam: I'm ready to order.
MG: Do you want to play cards?
Pam: No, not really.
MG: I'm really good at "Go Fish".
Pam: Congratulations.
MG: It's a cool game because I don't have a job, and it's only way for me to relax.
Pam: You don't have a job?
MG: I have to poop. Excuse me.
(MG leaves)
Pam: Waiter? Waiter! Anyone!
Waiter: Yes?
Pam: I need my cappuccino to go, please. And make it fast.
Waiter: Yes, of course.
(3 or so minutes pass. MG returns)
MG: Pam! I missed you!
Pam: Uhhhh....
MG: Pam, dear, I have something I need to ask you.
Pam: (Oh, no..) Yes?
(MG gets down on one knee)
MG: I know we haven't known each other long, but..(pulls out a ring from his pocket) will you marry me?
(Pam finally snaps.)
Pam: No! You won't, nor ever will be, my husband. You're annoying, you don't have a job, and you can't even read! Anything else that I need to know?
(MG looks away somberly)
MG: Well, I do live in my mother's base—
Pam: Goodbye, Menu Guy!
(Pam grabs the coffee from the waiter on his way to their table. She storms out the door and never saw him again.)