Thank You.

A special thanks to the following bloggers:

Thyne Sarcasm

Ann Ominous

Gene Wilder

Lucy Loveable

Ember Lilly

William Lee Barefield III

Erica

You have all amazed and inspired me throughout the semester. Your writing is equivalent to that of professional writers. I salute you all.  

                               While in Paris, I found my  crayons.

Simple and Accessible Complexity

Wisdom and War

We do not care-
That much is clear.
Not enough
Of us care
Anywhere.
We are not wise-
For that reason,
Mankind dies.
To think
Is much against
The will.
Better-
And easier-
To kill. 

-Langston Hughes

Simplicity and Accessibility are the hardest things to mesh. Add some Complexity of Depth and its practically impossibe to convey in the way desired. But apparently Hughes doesn't apply himself to the rules and complications of writing because almost everyone of his poems are all of these things and more. Like this poem.

Of Doors and Hell

No one will push the door the extra foot. No one will push it far enough for the magnet to hold it in place. No one will save their peers behind them from the burden of pushing the door open again, you think: "Who cares? They wouldn't push it the rest of the way for me.". And you're right. They wouldn't. Because no one cares enough about anyone else. No one cares about what hell a peer goes through every day. No one will push the door the extra foot.

Nothing good happens after 2am.

A little background: Basically I drank a lot of caffeine the other night and I decided to text some people. I sent this at like 2am. There are some spelling errors but I won't edit them cause heck, its funny. I sent this to a friend of mine whose birthday happened to be that same day (or morning). Within the text, it mentions some people that were at the party, these people were on posters that were hanging up in the room. Ali was not really there. Anyways, here it is:

"This is probably a little weird...but happy birthday! I've drank about 2 and soon to be 4 lieters of dr. Pepper and mtn. Dew. My head hurts, I can't stop laughing, and jimi hendrix is here, along with ali, vader, and batman is passed in joshs closet because he fell down. The rest of the star wars group is on stage rocking out. Wish you were here to enjoy the party, cause heck, its your birthday! Cordially Trace, Josh and Peter. Hope your birthday is awesome! P.S. (Post Script) nothing good happens after 2 am. So I sure as ghandi hope that this gets to you before 2. P.P.S. (post post script) gotta go, stinson just showed up with the rest of the How I Met Your Mother gang and georgio armani so it is time to suit up, and be awesome. Its gonna be legen- wait for it......................................................dary! Legendary! P.P.P.S. (post post post script) its after 2. Crap."

The post below this one is another text I sent. (it's even funnier)

Stu Peed

This one I sent to a friend that I invited to our party but he never responded. Once again, it has spelling errors, it was 2 am, and I was out of it.

"Too bad you didn't come to here at this place we all call home. It is a p a r t I. Up in here, in dis hood. So next time be good. I hope you understood, what I sayin to you, you big poo, I will sue, you cookoo, moo. Stu. Peed in the hot tub like a pig. Batman is dead. Apparently he fell to the evil clutches of the jokester. Called masking tape. #scotch. You are a jester, which is a joker so you are nice. You killed bagman. And also batman. You sneeeaaakyyy mom. Well played. you pink shorts attracted the lobsters of lying government agents. Including sara palin. And also bin laden. Yes, he works for the Internal Revenue Service.  The moon shown briight on this lovely christmas night and all felt right, I had a fight, with all my might in joshs sight, it was contrite and quite (pause) flight. The bottle is so far, I cannot reach, but to reach is to live and to bleach is to give...whiteness to the eternitys of all that is latino. -Trace & Josh (but mostly trace)"

We didn't realize until the next morning how racist that last line sounded.

Somewhere, out there, beneath the pale moonlight.