"Erin... why are we going on this trip?" The sudden question posed by Blake caught her off guard.

"Uhm, well, wasn't this your idea to begin with?" she replied.

"Well, yes. But, I mean, why are we really doing this? Is it for fun? Are we trying to prove something? What?" The slight urgency in Blake's voice surprised Erin. This was undoubtedly the work of Blake's father. He was always getting Blake worked up about things, even if he didn't intend to do so; Blake over-analyzed everything. Erin looked around her at the playful river, the sunshine, the forest stretching out along the banks that was undoubtedly full to the brim with wildlife, and then softly laughed when her eyes fell on Adam and Caitlin struggling with tethers on the canoe.

"Well Blake, I came on this trip to experience some adventure with my best friends who really know how to live life to the fullest. And who knows, maybe I'll learn something about myself along the way... Is that a sufficient answer for you?"

Blake smiled and shifted his eyes to the sky. "Yes. That is perfect."

Erin couldn't help but wonder what was going through Blake's mind in that moment; he was an enigma.

"Where do you think you're going?" His father's voice still rang in Blake's ears as he helped Adam get the canoe out into the water. The voice pierced his psyche. It wasn't that his father was too hard on him. His old man was always looking after for Blake, making sure his boy was growing up strong, healthy, and smart. What really troubled Blake about this question was he really did not have an answer.

"Why am I taking this trip?" he thought to himself. He looked at his friends, all anxious to start heading downstream. As soon as he proposed the idea of taking this long trip, they were all for it just like any good friends ought to be. Whether they were up for any kind of adventure or they had individual desires, Blake did not know.

     At the age of 17, Blake was young, adventurous, passionate, and not to mention a little bit reckless. His jet black hair and crystal blue eyes demanded anyone's attention, if only for a moment. To say he was the leader of this group would be an understatement. He had single-handedly convinced all three of them to come on this trip. Of course, none of them needed much convincing. Each of them possessed characteristics that Blake had always been drawn to, and each of them were all aware none of them could ask for better friends.
     Adam, a tall and muscular blonde of 17, was Blake's right hand man. Adam possessed wisdom far beyond his years and was often the voice of reason in Blake's ear. Even though Blake sometimes felt held-back by Adam, Adams wit, reason, and powerful brain often came in great use. Adam had also stopped Blake from doing things that would have gotten him into a world of trouble had he followed through. Blake knew this and, in spite of his faint annoyance with Adam at times, he was grateful to have Adam at his side. Adam and Blake had known each other since kindergarten and had been taking on the world together ever since.
     Erin, the youngest of the group but still 17, was a bold brunette who could take on the president in a debate if she wanted to. And yet, at times she was so calm that you would never know she was in the room. Erin wasn't bipolar by any means. In fact, her range of boldness and calmness ebbed and flowed together seamlessly. She knew how to handle any situation with a grace and a poise that few ever achieved in a lifetime. A fighter, a diplomat, a peace maker, and a breath of fresh air, Erin was the heart of the group.
     The voice that Caitlin possessed could set the actresses of broadway heart's ablaze with jealousy. A true dreamer, Caitlin possessed a passion for life that infused everything she did with joy. She brought hope to people in a very real way, and it was most likely in the way her green eyes radiated with the love that flowed in her veins, or the way she would hug anyone as if she had known them for years. Caitlin could win over anyone, and it would be in the utmost sincerity that she did it. Also 17, Caitlin had so much life ahead of her, and she would no doubt live it to the full. Caitlin was the dreamer and the joy.
     An extraordinary group indeed; it almost seemed as though, when they were all together, they were but one person. Each of their strengths complimented the others weaknesses, and they worked together in such a powerful way that no one who knew them doubted they could take over the world if they ever chose to. But, for now, it was the river that they would set out to conquer. The adventure that ensued would be one that they would remember for the rest of their lives. Then again, most everything they did was worth remembering forever.

Summer was ending beautifully. The sun, in full effect, warms the country but the nights are a bit chilly. Nothing a nice fire and a hand-me down sweatshirt can't help, though. These are the days kids spend as much time as they can outside for they know fall means less freedom and school. Most of the trees remain their greenish summer shade but a couple of the anxious ones were already turning. They freckle the hillsides, a dash of reddish purple. The sunsets of these days are the best all year. Especially on a river, winding, the colors streak the sky, mixing with the coloring trees descending down to the waters. The river meanders through the country, home to fish, ducks, and adventure.

Hey, why not?

Jeniuses: So glad to see you back on your game. I do so miss you when you're gone. Now listen to this----The Spektors and the Mutts have both tried writing ongoing collaborative serials with much success. In fact, the Spektors are at it right now! Their story is called The Game---you should check it out.

I thought maybe we could try something like that for a while. What do you think?

Pat is Superman

We put new gravel into our driveway

and now a pile sits by the basketball hoop.

I remember way back when we first got the gravel

my brother would hop on his bike

and start at the very top of the driveway.

Looking down the sloping smooth stretch

and the pile of gravel resting by the basketball hoop,

he would pedal as fast as he could

face full of determination and hopefully not ground.

He'd hit the pile of gravel and fly maybe 1 or 2 feet through the air,

but it was the most incredible thing I've ever seen.

Accidentally already posted as a comment . . .I'm sorry---

I can see that what I intended as a humorous post has ignited a firestorm of ripostes that I find myself unprepared to deal with. Jeniuses, I officially withdraw my pleas for posts, both direct and indirect and in the future will confine myself to only supportive and positive commentary such as---"of course, it's more important to focus on your REAL classes right now " and the occassional "wow, that's remarkable!"

What, What Is Wrong With the World Today?

bombarded with so many pitches
"you need this!"
"it's revolutionary!"
"this will change your life!"
"it's man-genic!"
who knew that consumerism
would run rampant
in an english class.

i think i'll just sit and drink (chocolate) milk
out of my plastic dora,
while i ponder this for awhile.
thank goodness my swop bot
will take care of the chores.

*Thank you to Flight of the Conchords for the borrowed title.*

Another Thing to Hate

A tumble weed rolls by and the dust is kicked up by a gust. It's quiet.

I stare down my enemy, teeth snarling.

I whisper the words, "Don't you dare."

But the flashing red numbers mock me,

and that pasty white plastic, so putrid and vulgar.

The serene, wonderful quietness will be interrupted, maybe.

For a few seconds I wonder, perhaps it is broken

perhaps I don't have to get out of bed.

But a wave of sound hits me.

Same old Bee Jee's beat startles me awake like an icy cold slap.

And I am helpless save for a lousy 7 minutes

my snooze button grants me.

Oh, If Only.

Forgive my inconsistencies.
I'm sorry I don't post
About how I'm graduating at the end of this year
In every other post
I'm sorry I don't talk about
How youtube doesn't load,
I'm sorry I don't write away
In a "let's insult the Jeniuses" mode.

Oh if only I had the brilliance,
That the Spektors seem to possess,
Maybe then Ms. Rut would like me,
And I wouldn't feel so stressed.

What gives? Seriously?

Okay---did the school year end and nobody told me? Somebody---and I'm not naming names here---Jamess and Sara----has forgotten to write for the last two weeks.

The Spektors have already declared victory!!!!! So sad that you don't care about the class.

What the?

And April 8th is even longer!

Sometimes when I miss you most

I miss you most when

you don't laugh

and don't show up

'cause you're in New York

and wander off

and go to gym class

But sometimes when I miss you

most there you are

right in front of me

as days go by

faces smiling

cracking wise

looking like everything's

normal

normal days

normal faces

normal laughter

normal normal normal normal

normal

April 9th

so far away

It's times like these

when I miss you most

I caught myself a' whistling

I caught myself a' whistling

a beautiful, American song

and low and behold my teacher

caught the tune and disappeared, gone.

And as I stopped at my locker,

the melody continued to ring.

for behind me, a couple kids

were walking and whistling.

From one to another the song caught on

like laughter, the flu or a yawn.

But after awhile we forgot the tune.

the song had disappeared, gone.

I walked home quiet and down,

the earth was quiet like a tragedy

But behind my green front door

my parents whistled the melody.

Excitedly I turned on the tube

and switched it to CNN

and low and behold the tune

was ringing out once again!

America for once was care free

the song carried on for miles

and upon the billions of faces,

I found my teacher with the biggest smile.

Surrounded By Greatness

Everyday,

I am surrounded by greatness.

More than I will ever be able to grasp.

Sometimes I fail to see it,

And sometimes I fail to appreciate it.

But I know it's there.

When I do see it,

When the revelation hits me from time to time,

I just have to stop.

I have to stop,

And sit in awe,

Of how blessed I am.

Because there are just so many people,

So many people,


Who have impacted my life.


Who have shaped the person I am,
Who I've become,


Who I will be.


And I am just so grateful,
So grateful,


To be in the presence of so many incredible people.


My life is so rich,
Because of so many.


Who am I to be so blessed?

Sorry Rut!

Oh my Rut,

I am sorry for my jokes with all my heart.

In choosing to be a jerk,

and failing to be mature,

I have offended you,

whom's class I should care about above all things.

I firmly intend, with your help,

to write creatively,

to be a tool no more,

and avoid whatever leads me to say, "Calm down."

I'm sorry.

Handlebars by Flobots

courtesy of youtube.com

This song is about the American dream. No matter how small you are or where you come from, you can grow up to be whatever you want. Corruption is a scary thing, though. Do we know how a person is affected when given incredible power? Do we know how we will act with that power?

Ode to Getting Deodorant on my Shirt.

From the haste after a short sleep,

the early morning following a late night,

stressing to get ready for the all important school day.

Stressed from having such a short sleep.

Like a freshly paved highway, the white strips of paint,

stretching for miles and miles through the magnificent country side.

The majestic hills and mountains, decorated by a ribbon,

The freshly paved highway and glistening white lines.

So much like the elegant forest creature,

its beautifully combed black hair covering its body

and that identifyingly brilliant stripe from its head to its tail,

just like that elegant creature.

And those old school chalkboards, blackboards,

the white chalk is an instrument for the wonderful art of the kids,

who so gleefully play tic-tac-toe and sketch monsters and bunnies.

The white chalk on the blackboard like that new highway.

My shirt, already raddy, could it take anymore carelessness?

My dexterity shot from coming across PA before a school day,

but I will take full responsibility for this horrid incident.

Oh my shirt, I am sorry.