Expect the Unexpected

After running seven miles I had to eat something immediately or I would pass out. In great desperation I drove through Hempstead and went to a nearby deli. I ordered a roast beef hero, which took a long time to make because I wanted it toasted. While I was waiting I felt so lonely and secluded from the others walking in. The people walking in were either African American or Spanish. I'm used to being around these races and all, but in Hempstead they take tough to a new level. To put how tough they are in perspective I always drive along S. Franklin Ave. to get to school. At least one person walks directly in front of my car to cross the street. They don't have the patience to wait three seconds for me to pass them.

When I was waiting for my sandwich this one woman struck my attention. She walked with a supercilious attitude and said these words in verbatim, "What the fuck is this shit, I walk all this way for this shit, I got better shit to do, shit." She seemed to say these words to herself. Once she reached the deli counter to order her lottery ticket. She said to the deli worker. "Why do people say the word Holla, Holla! when I walk past em'." The deli worker jokingly replied, "They are checking you out." A bunch of other customers and I were laughing at his comment. She said, "Yea, but I ain't young no more." After this conversation the anxiety of waiting eased and my sandwich thankfully popped out of the toaster. One black guy exclaimed to me, "DAYYYMMMM! You must be hungry, boy." I reluctantly said, "Yes I am." Then he said, "Enjoy." I was surprised how he said that because I would never expect someone who has the "Don't mess with me or else I will beat your punk ass" facial expression to be so sincere. This encounter proved to me that I should expect the unexpected.

I Don't Want to Write About

I don't want to write about the following criteria:

Sex

Drugs

Alcohol

Curse Words

Singing in the shower (the picture portrays this.)

Going to bed early

The thoughts that conjure up into my head

The fact that Classical music is my favorite type of music

The way I dance

How much "game" I got

Why I enjoy school

Death

Disappointments in my life

I fart and burp with the rest of the world

Awkward situations I encounter throughout my average day

How my life does stink sometimes

My Fears

Quirks I possess

My dreams

Jeepers Creepers

Cold, dark and dreary alley
.........................................I proceed to walk home
...........Subtly I hear footsteps in the distance.
.................................................................................My gait instinctually hastens
......................The air rushes to my lungs
............................................................................................in fear
.....dreadful fear
...............................It could be a man with a gun,
...................................................sword
...................................................or even worse
...................................................................................................both
....................I hear pitter patter of footsteps again
My hands, clammy and fidgety, tense up
.......................................................................................................clench into a ball ready to defend.
..................................................My eyes petrified in shock
..................by death.

cold, dark, and dreary alley
.........................I walk deeper
................................................................and deeper
........................................................................................Images of mobsters and gangs
.......................................flash through my head
..............................................................................................................................................................Why me? I did not harm anyone?!
..........................................I hear the footsteps again
....................................................................inching up even closer this time
...................., but
it stopped . . .
.........................................................I am a goner
..................................................................................................done for good
..........................................................................................................................................It stopped because
.....................................................................it discovered a good location
...............................................to kill me.
.................................................................................Will it just shoot me
................................................................................and let me die a fast, painless death with a gun
.........................................or
..............................................slice me up slowly into pieces with a knife
.......................................................................causing me to suffer the long agonizing pain
between life and death
................................The latter is not what I want
................................................................, but
It is not my choice
....................................................................................................the decision lies in the hands
.........................................................................................................................................of the killer
Knock, Knock
.................I lift up my head
.......and abruptly wake up
.......................with my mom hovering over me.

The Places That Hurt

"Guy, what kind of name is that? More like Gay! HAHAHA! Third grade consisted of so many bullies that I felt like their punching bag. In music class I remember they would torment me incessantly acting as if I had no emotions at all. Every time they would bully me I felt massive amounts of tension rush into my body. The verbal abuse I had in the third grade felt like Muhammad Ali launched his fist directly at my stomach. I remember one day I did cry in my music class. One bully said to me, "Are you crying?" Quickly I reacted by saying, "No, I'm not crying something is in my eye." For several minutes they actually believed me until my music teacher pulled me aside and allowed me to release my emotions out in the hall. After I was done with my outpour of emotions I walked to my seat in the class. From the door to my seat in the classroom was a "Walk of Shame". Everyone knew I cried from the bullies harassing me.

To My Watch

Watch, my one and only, watch

.....................................It is a pleasure to know you

.................................Changing modes upon my request

................................................................................................................Treating me like I am a guest

.............Every single time you beep

.............................................................................................I awaken from my sleep

Watch, my one and only, watch

.......Wrapped around my wrist so tight

.......................You must feel hot from my body heat

.....................................................................................................But when I lay you on my desk at night

............................All the warmth you were given depletes

Watch, my one and only, watch

........................Up, down, Up, down

You must follow my arm's swing

.................................................................................................Up, down, Up, down

.....................I'm surprised my running doesn't make you frown

Up, down, Up, down

You and I together are the perfect match

Watch, my one and only, watch

Worst Morning Ever!

Today I proceeded to wake up and get ready for school. I am a morning person so it is not much of a problem for me to get up and going. I proceeded to do my regular routine of making my peanut butter and jelly sandwich. PLOP! I missed putting the two bread slices together and the slice of bread with peanut butter on it got onto the table. UGH! I do it again and succeeded. Thank God! But that's just the beginning of the mortifying madness. I put my sandwich in paper bags usually but today I decided to use plastic instead. As I placed the sandwich and banana for lunch into the plastic bag I felt a liquid on my hands that was not viscous or anything, but just felt strange flowing across my hands. I smelt the liquid on my hands and as soon as my hand was three inches from my nose. My nose hairs jutted out from the noxious smell and my face contorted from the malodorous stench. It reeked of fish guts that smelt like it was in the plastic bag for decades. So I decided to not make lunch and take money today. Thankfully, my favorite, most wonderful, inspirational, and caring teacher Mike (I'm not brown-nosing, I'm telling the truth =]) bought us food to eat for lunch!

My Version of Freak by John Leguizamo

I had to move along with my life. Those sleepless summer nights huddled together saying we would last forever. Forever became never. You grew up and felt confined by me. Apparently I was holding you back from experiencing college. Those were verbatim from the break-up. If you substitute college with other guys, drinking, smoking, and sex then I would believe you and respect your decision in breaking up with me. Instead you insist on lying saying the word "College" thinking that you implied school and studying for tests. The word "College" is so broad, I wish you were more specific! My reaction initially was school and studying for tests due to my naive self. I reacted by the simple words, "Ok". I did not want to ball out crying, but instead I held my feelings in. Bad Idea! A balloon on the brink of popping from too much helium is the way I felt in this agonizingly painful experience. I walked away timidly without subconsciously noticing that I was rushing to my car to go home and let that "helium" burst and my true emotions pour out. When I was crying at my house I would have prefered being hurt physically than physciologically. This "scare" in my heart will always be there and never forgotten.

Extraordinary Ordinary

In desperate need of a haircut, I went to my local barbershop. When I hear the word haircut my mind conjectures waiting to get seated, waiting to get your haircut, waiting for the barber to cash the bill, then waiting in the car to get home. The word haircut reminds me of waiting (if you catch my drift). This haircut trip I experienced today I viewed with a different and extravagant perspective. I acted as if I never once walked in or heard of a barber shop.

While I was waiting I didn't muse about doing something else instead, I anticipated letting someone cut my hair to look like a rock star, soldier, or a lame five year old boy with a mushroom cut. This anticipation kept my mind off of the old man in front of me who barley had any hair. (So why was he even at the barber shop!!!!) My mind was set on the surprise of what my hair would look like. But once I got in the "hot seat" (in quotations because I got the saying from "who want to be a millionare") I told the the barber to simply trim my hair and keep it thick on top. He replied, "If I trim the side of your hair it will become to curly." I answered back, "Use your best judgement." So he went about cutting my hair and I acted like I never got a haircut. Strangely enough, I enjoyed it. It felt like I was getting a massage on my head. When the buzzer was rubbing against my head up, over, and around it induced the massage feeling that made my body relax and loose tension. Once he reached my ears with the scissors I got nervous because I acted like I never got a haircut before. My ears felt vulnerable, but thankfully he pushed them aside. After my ears he went down to my sideburns. Not much was there for him to cut, just peach fuzz. He rolled the buzzer up and down my cheek and each time he did that I felt a tingle in my thighs and it eased its way toward my feet. It seemed eons passed when I was in the barber shop, but actually only 20 minutes elapsed. My new hairstyle going from long, beatle type hair became more of a lame five year old with a mushroom-shaped haircut. This new perspective made me appreciate and engage with enjoying a simple chore being a haircut. Enjoy life while you still can before it's too late!

Untitled

I cry myself to sleep

My teary eyes I wipe still I weep

In my arms dearest you are lost

With all my endeavors at high cost

This feeling I shield and keep

Shall never be freed or unleashed

Try not to express my sorrow tomorrow

Others will look at you with such insanity

Yet I don't care! I swear, they may tear and tear

But I am in such great despair to care

So they can have their share of tear.

Does that make me unmanly amongst my family?

O' My!

You should see how much stress that I try to digress

But the stress, I cannot confess!

Thus, I weep myself to sleep.

Life Lessons

Just do it

Over thinking a situation can become a habit.

Mastery of your habit withdraws any doubt

You must flout doubt!

To fail is to live; the one who learns from failure succeeds to live.

Life is like the growth of a flower

Enjoying the days with rain shower

Despising the days when sun cowers

Rarity a day both sweet and sour.

(All lines in this previous poem have 9 syllables)

Favorite Quote

Choose a job you love, and you will never have to work a day of your life

- Confucius

I strongly endorse this quote because you cannot determine the kind of job you want by how much money you get, or how long your breaks are. If you live by that philosophy you are at great risk of living a miserable and burdensome life. Instead, look at your job by thinking in what way can you help humanity.

The Bashful Orange

Orange, why are you so bashful?

Your peel makes you incognito.

Raspberries, Blueberries, and Strawberries

are not covered up by any big barriers.

So why are you so bashful?

Breaking open your peel

Creates the same sensation and anticipation

of breaking open wrappers and ribbons of presents.

The only difference is in determining whether an orange

Is good or bad is by the amount of pits you spit.

Orange, why are you so bashful?

Get rid of your peel and unreal disguises

Would it be possible for us to arrange some mises?

What are you hiding?

I will not go about chiding!

The beauty of being bashful bemuses brilliant brainiacs.

You have an irresistible and succulent inside.

So what is it that you have to hide?

Orange, why are you so bashful?

I Remember...

I remember being potty trained. It wasn't pleasant.

I remember wearing feety pajamas.

I remember watching Thomas the Tank Engine, Barney, and Arthur every day.

I remember my grandma and aunt. God rest their souls.

I remember traveling out of the country.

I remember my first kiss.

I remember the first time I drove.

I remember as a child I thought the world was just full of generous people. Boy! Was I wrong.

I remember taking piano lessons.

I remember not remembering when I got a concussion in a snowboarding accident.

I remember karate classes. Don't mess with me =)

I remember Toys R Us being my favorite store.

I remember rejection.

I remember being accepted.

I remember November.

I remember waking up to Christmas and rushing down the stairs to open up my presents. Then I grew up.

I remember when my friend threw a toy dinosaur at my fish tank causing the whole kitchen to flood with water and flopping fish.

I remember going to camp for a month in New Hampshire.

I remember swimming lessons.

I remember dressing up as a cowboy, vampire, Zoro, and indian for Halloween.

I remember my first break up.

I remember my 20th post!

I remember when I decided to stop remembering and start living in the present, which would be right now.

Noises Heard In My Life

Drip Drop rain falls from the sky

Grumble Grumble I am hungry

Hip Hop the music in my car

Cha Ching cash register opens

Ouch Ouch the water is too hot in my shower

Snip Snap I cut my nails

Nag Nag my parents order me around

AAAHHH AAAHHH my sisters make raucous to wake up for school

Snooze Snooze I sleep with my head lying on my pillow

Puff Puff Mexican food is rough

Ruff Ruff my dog barks at the mailman

Mumble Mumble some people just don't know how to talk loud

Lick Lick Ice Cream is the best dessert

Ding Dong I have to get up to answer the door

Dab Dab my peanut butter touches the bread to make a sandwich

Sup Sup greeting my pals

Pick Pick Acne bothers my face

Fuck Fuck I'm so upset

U la la I just made a poem!

(Note: This poem was made long by simply taking the last letter of each line and creating a new noise that occurs in my life.)

Sick Haiku

Lying in bed sick

Trying to get better quick

Bored out of my mind!

Staring at ceiling

Wondering about healing

I hate this feeling!

Once I am better

I hope to seize the day

Latin: Carpe Diem!

My Steppingstones

1. I was born on the gloomiest day of the year, but now it is not gloomy to me anymore!

2. At about the age of one and a half my first word was tree.

3. At about two years old I started to walk before I crawled. My dad had to teach me how to crawl instead of how to walk.

4. First grade. First love. I remember on the bus ride to school trip I was holding Meghan's hand the whole ride. It was spectacular!

5. Third grade. Dislike my teacher so I became a rebel and stopped studying, doing homework. I started to instigate trouble instead.

6. Fifth grade. This was the year that September 11th 2001 struck everyone in America's heart. I remember my teacher getting off the phone and into the classroom with tears running down her face. The class asked what happened and she said adamantly nothing happened, lets open our textbooks. When I came home I saw these two buildings in flames and my eyes were popping out in terror. My mom explained the situation to me, but I was still confused. Also, in this year I started to work harder because our teacher treated us like mature adults and not children.

7. Seventh Grade. Started competitively running for my school. This caused me to manage my time better with my studies.

8. Freshman Year. First Year in Catholic school. Totally different environment than public schools. I met many new friends, which I keep in touch with today.

9. Junior Year. College! Started visiting and determining where I wanted to continue my education. During the year I went to visit Marist, Providence, Stony Brook, Quinnipiac, Fordham, Stonehill, Notre Dame, Iona, Hofstra, and Molloy College.

10. Freshman Year of College. First Blog site. Maturing into adulthood....hopefully!

Beach Haiku

Seagulls fly in wind

Sand dispersed in wild wind

Seashells rest in sea.

Fishermen cast lines

Fish nibble and bite at lines

Fish are surprised.

Ornithology

big word which can mean a lot

but what does it mean?

Rocks rumble reefs

Rocks preserve our vast beaches

Rocks nurture creature

Clams plankton or fish

Who shall conquer the ocean?

Clams plankton or fish

Water rats a waste

Wait they eat whatever dies

Water rats not waste

Sitting Enjoying

Waves ascend and descend

Sand follows process

Water oxygen

Hurricanes tsunami

Grass trees sand

(Note: This previous poem shows the differences between water and land. Water to Ocean is like Oxygen to Land. Hurricanes are disasters on land and tsunamis are disasters at sea. Lastly, the surface on land is mostly grass, and trees, while the surface at sea is mostly sand.)