Dan in Real Life

2. I think the tips I would give to parents of teenagers are:

· Be assertive about your rules

· Keep an open line of communication

· Value his/her opinions, otherwise they'll want to rebel.

· Compromise is key!!!

11. I never found the good hiding spots, but my dad would get up in the hallway and prop himself on the walls above our heads. We never found him, at least until he got tired anyway.

14. It's hard for me to explain. I think there's one true love out there for us all, but i think a  lot of people are close to the same frequency, enough to make you happy.

16. I’m not too great at a lot of things, but I’m actually really awesome at work. I work in the kitchen area of McDonald’s, and anytime they get too backed up or things need to get done back there, they call me. I’ve even been referred to as the “Grill God”. I take a lot of pride in my work, and I’m very happy to be working there, even if everyone else says that’d be a terrible thing to do. All I have to say is, believe it or not, I’m making more money than a bunch of kids here, and that’s not something to be ashamed about.

20. I think listening and your input make you a good conversationalist.

27. I don't think parents get as much credit as they should. I usually find myself doing things my parent’s way to make them happy. I tried rebelling once- It just caused a bunch of hurt feelings and resentment on both sides, and I did it all for some guy that cheated on me. You need to value your family as much as you can. They'll let you down, but everyone else lets you down so much more.

Ice Storm!

I remember laughing and playing in the snow. We were too old to play, but something about the white crystal palace our street had become beckoned us to do something.

I remember a full week of sleepless nights, when my electric fan was powerless, and wishing I could get past the cold.

I remember being stuck inside my house, trying to huddle next to the fire so I could read without the book shaking from my hands.

I remember going with my dad to help my grandparents with firewood, who had hung big sheets of fabric from the ceiling, trying to corner the heat into one place.

I remember my damned dog, running around, trying to carry a tree limb in his mouth like it was a twig, slipping and sliding and tripping with a wagging tail, and everyone around me laughing.

That Picture of That One Lady

I am quiet, though I should not be.

I am the searing sun, beating down on the dirt, baking away whatever coolness resides underneath.

I am the flawed stitching that holds lank fabric, blowing in the afternoon breeze.

I am the anger of injustice.

I am the grinding of an already stripped joint.

I am the adoring look in my children’s eyes.

I am hurt when they are.

I am screaming to deaf ears.

I am hurt, bitter, tired, and sick.

Mooovviiieess

I don’t really have a favorite movie, but I do enjoy watching them. I just can’t choose one! I really like Inception, Lord of the Rings, Harry Potter, Forrest Gump, Titanic, Braveheart, Moulin Rouge, Atlantis, etc, etc. I don’t get to watch too many movies nowadays, mostly because I’m usually at work, or at school, or sleeping. You can never go wrong with some nice snacks and drinks with movies, and my living room is awesome to chill in for a couple of hours. That survey said I like the escapist movies, along with the thrill seeking and violence. I suppose that’s fair enough.  I just really can’t stand the super unnecessarily gory movies, like Saw or whatever. If my life story was made into a movie… well I really don’t see that happening, and in all honesty, I have no idea who would play me.

This is...

This is an escape.

The one place you can be with a thousand strangers

And a thousand life-long friends

Where everyone is moving to the rhythm

Of a deep angry bass

Threaded with the sweet disengaging melody

Of tortured souls and lost love

Fury pounds through the speakers

And through the veins of us all

All alone

All together

As one

The need to feel something more

Than just the average contentment

And the frustration

Of wanting nothing but the (ever-familiar) numb indifference

Knowing emotion is reawakened

Leaving us breathless as we fight the battle

Against eachother

Our brothers

And Between the shelter of silence

And this newfound sense

of emotion.

Window Poem

I see a busy bank parking lot, where people half-jog in and out of the glass doors.
To the left there is a tightly packed street. Hundreds of worker bees move through the lights.
Today, it almost seems like there is a massive sense of urgency, like the street will disappear if the cars don't push through fast enough.
Sometimes, when it's late and the stoplight down the way starts flashing, you can almost imagine what it would be like if the world were deserted, robbed of any disease or humanity.
Rain pelts the pavement, and the clouds hover right above the street lights.
A homeless man pushes his way through the wind, his hand sheilding his eyes.
Still yet the cars hustle their way to their ever-important destinations, like blood through veins.

Off in the distance you can see a flash of light in the sky, and hear the powerful rumble of thunder.

Picture Poetry

Sometimes, if you just hold it in, it makes life that much better. You don’t feel as overwhelmed as you did before. In fact, you feel a little lost. But not really. You know in your heart of hearts that you’ll find your way back eventually. Or at least, you hope to god that you do. Right now you have to focus on what your feelings really look like. What you mean when you say those petty phrases- I love. I hate. I feel. Good. Great, in fact. What were you so upset about in the first place? You know (even deeper in that heart of hearts) that this flows from you. You are not the creator, nor do your ideas and opinions matter. You are simply the conduct. Some sort of unknown celestial passageway to that deep ocean of emotion you know everyone feels. The rage and frustration comes from not knowing which shade can show your darkest hour. Or what tint tells your fairytale. The sorrow is when you give up.

Sometimes

if you just hold it in

it makes life that much better.

You don’t feel as overwhelmed as you did before.

In fact, you feel a little lost. But not really.

You know in your heart of hearts that you’ll find your way back eventually.

Or at least, you hope to god that you do.

Right now you have to focus on what your feelings really look like.

What you mean when you say those petty phrases- I love. I hate. I feel-

 Good. Great, in fact.

What were you so upset about in the first place?

You know (even deeper in that heart of hearts) that this flows from you.

You are not the creator, nor do your ideas and opinions matter.

You are simply the conduct.

Some sort of unknown celestial passageway to that deep ocean of emotion you know everyone feels.

The rage and frustration comes from not knowing which shade can show your darkest hour.

Or what tint tells your fairytale.

The sorrow is when you give up.