The crisp rain swiftly covers the damp ground with it’s moisturizing condensation. The earthly soil is turning into a vast puddle of water. My hair is growing droplets of mist in the foggy morning on Baxter street. All I can think about is the fresh smell the motherly rain leaves behind her on the ground. I lean my face to the sky, extending my arms backwards; opening my mouth so I can taste the life it has to offer. I want to be as free as the wind and rain. Free like the birds high up in the pine trees. Free like the wild burning sage brush in south Africa. Free like the crisp rain that has all direction upon where it wishes to land. I want the sweet rain to wrap itself around my body and take me to the heavens. This is the second day it has rained so vigorously, making me want to become part of its adventures. The crisp rain is a blessing of life upon this dry land. Full of life and prosperity. The crisp, sweet rain of Eastern Oregon.
Civics
The day was slowly digressing as I finished up the last ten minutes in my civics class. The bell rung with a mechanical beep and all the kids darted for the door. I stayed after to ask about an essay and make one more glance at the student aid teacher called Mr. Fox. He was brilliant. Every time he took a breath, I wish I were that air in which he breathed. He was seemingly dark and radiant. Knowledgeable. Creative. Mysterious. I was constantly focusing on the way his sleeve smelt, how his hair was parted gently on the side. When he helped me with the quadratic formula I could hear the gears in his brain turning, he looked like Albert Einstein in modern day. He talked about all these numbers and equations as if I could speak Chinese. I was confused. Bewildered. I was dumbfounded by the intelligence of his vocabulary. I was not going to sit there and let myself look like a fool. I pretended to know exactly what I was talking about, even though he could probably smell the uncertainty on my breath like a parent that could smell alcohol on their child. I was doomed. But then something he said clicked in my head and I was the one telling him how to solve the equation. It was surreal. I started blushing because I did not think I had it in me. He smiled and walked away, back to the little desk in the corner by which he uses to study social studies with. Everything about this man makes me crave to hear what he will say next. It it like that craving an addict has for meth a month after they have clean. I wanted him to feed me all of the knowledge that freely floated around inside his brain. Someday I want to be like him. Someday I want someone to crave what I have to say as much I as crave his. I was walking out of class with chin held high, for I had got a B on the pre-test in which I had studied for. And I cannot say how much I will look forward to being the teacher’s assistant right after my civics class period.
Candy Life
Life is like a jar of mixed candy. When you reach in sometimes you get that delicious Twix candy and sometimes you get that nasty root beer candy. Sometimes life throws you a curve ball of hardships, something that you do not want in your life. Much like that nasty root beer candy. Other times you will have everything and more that you need, much like that delicious Twix candy. Life is like a candy jar because you never know what its going to have in store for you. Take that root beer candy and work with it, make that challenge less challenging.
The Room
The small dank room suffocated my miniature lungs. I gasped for air, that sweet crisp air. My heartbeat was slowing down like a turtle in a race. My eyes were floating around in their sockets as an astronaut does in space. My mouth was dry like death valley, and my hopes were crushed like the cement below the Hulk’s feet. I was nearly gone. physically, emotionally and spiritually. The small room took away the dear sweet breath I long to breath. That small dark room stole away all the life I had in me. There was no way to escape, except the given. I could give into this cruel torture and let them take my last captivating breaths. Or I could fight to breath in this atmosphere I am surround in, the chemicals strong and overpowering. In the box I live in I can barely breath. The life is being sucked out of my body. My eyes start to water like the misty morning and the need to gasp for air and life is empowering. I need to escape this world. The small room known as the world I call my home. Where chemicals kill crops and innocent animals. I close my eyes, and for the first time I can actually relax within the suffocation. Life as we know it is just a small intoxicating room that takes our breath away.
Camp Cancer
I carelessly chomped charred chicken in the chilling campground near Canada. The chirping cheerful birds cracked chords charmingly while I continued chomping charred chicken in the campground. I coughed carefully for cancer called cunningly to capture my creature calmly meaning me. But in this cold clear camp near Canada I completed my courageous captivating last days by chirping cheerfully while eating charred chicken in the crystal clear camp. I coughed coldly choking on crisp desperation as I curled up crooked and I croaked.
School Life
I see all the loopy faces, lifelessly roaming the halls in search of someone to gossip with. The girl with pink hair is looking at herself in a vending machine, wishing she was someone else that fit in. I see a boy, no older than me, he is leaning over the counter asking for extra ketchup on his taco. He has no class or style in the world of domestic teens. I see another girl, she is smiling at what appears her boyfriend, but is longing looking at some other boy who is a star on the soccer team. The bell rings and everyone scurries away to class like ants during a rain storm. I see a few kids skipping the first period on the day of the new semester. What idiot would skip the first day? The first day you meet your teachers, get extra points for signing the syllabus and meet new people. You are stupid to skip the first day. Everyone has their group at school; people who do not, are the ones sitting in the corner wishing they were the cool girls sitting on their boyfriend’s lap. School life to teenagers these days is not about the education, or the learning experience. It is simply about a popularity contest. Everyone is trying to be the best dressed, looking and prom queen. It is all about how others view you and not how you view yourself. God, what is wrong with our society???
autobiography2016 