Sun Burned

From cleaning out the pool yesterday. Got a lot done just need to add chemicals i think.

aaaaand sun burned from the Yankees game today. They beat Cleveland, but it was close. Yanks didn't make a comeback until the 8th I think it was. I sat in the Mohegan Sun area, it's nice and air conditioned but couldn't enjoy the real baseball experience while encased in a tinted glass box.

Oil Burns Too

But I'm not suggesting we burn it. The whole oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico is getting ridiculous. How's this for an idea:

A gigantic Brita water purifier.

Think about it. Take the oily water put it in the top. I think it should filter the water from the oil right? Tap water is full of stuff but clear when filtered.

I dunno, sounds good to me.

BBQ

That's what it's like outside and I'm the burger. It's kind of hard to have a new post everyday. So here's some more writings. Not too long.

Abysmal Existence

Diving deeper into slumber there’s no

Wonder you can’t discover what it

Feels to be alive. Reality is shrouded

By glimpses and visions of what you

Must do to survive. Liquid illusions drown

Your dazing eyes until you sink to the

Bottom. An anchor pins you down

Until you shrivel, diluted into fantasy.

Another Hot One

Woooooweeee it's hot out. Bad day to try and get the pool open, should just hire somebody for that. I had thoughts of a new story I could tell...but it needs work. So in the meanwhile, here is a story with a little Lost easter egg thrown in.

Sum of the World

4 weeks was not enough time to prepare for this event. A struggling artist was given the opportunity to have his work displayed downtown at a local art gallery. He had all his sculptures and paintings carried into the empty showroom. Everything seemed in order until the last minute. He began to worry; maybe it wasn’t perfect. He walked around nervously, sweating, making sure everything was exact. Guests started to arrive; first they looked around, walked full circle around sculptures, studying every detail. The artist was biting his nails, pulling at his collar, sweating profusely, who wondered why they took so long to comment on his work. But he left to take care of a personal matter when they finally nodded with approval. They moved on to admire the paintings but at this time our artist ducked into the bathroom to sooth his high. He pulled a pipe from his jacket along with a pebble sized portion of crack. After indulging in his bliss he returned to the showroom to find chaos and destruction. His sculptures were shattered and his paintings torn and sprayed with graffiti. His first chance of recognition was destroyed; he crumbled just like his creations.

8 teens were reportedly caught defacing a local art exhibition. That’s what the headlines would say if they were ever caught. After their mischievous night the teenagers blended into the empty urban landscape. Running and laughing; barely breathing, they all passed out under their usual hang out spot; under the bridge. It was littered with empty and half empty beer bottles and cans; cigarette packs and cigarette butts; torn and stained mattresses. The most horrible pieces of trash, other than the kids, were the recently used syringes and blood stained tourniquets. They lay staring at the bottom of the mossy bridge, their eyes glazed over, and smiles on their faces. They sought someone to look up to; somewhat of a role model. The only friends they had were each other, their drugs, and whoever fed their habit. When do people begin experimenting with such dangerous decisions?

15 years old and they’re already a menace to society. Those troubled teens are a problem. They needed to be stopped. Where are their parents and why aren’t they doing anything about the situation? There has been increased looting and destruction through the neighborhood. Principals from middle to high school have been worried about students falling behind. They noticed lethargic responses, slow movement, slurred speech; it was like zombies sat in every class. Others became aggressive, shoving other students and even teachers. Conferences were called between parents and teacher. Their discussions were less than productive. The mothers held their ears not wanting to hear how far behind their kids were and the fathers interrupted with accusations. The parents blamed the school systems for failing to educate their children. The only good that came out of these meetings, since both sides blamed each other, the schools wanted to conduct drug tests of suspicious students. Although the parents opposed, they relented, and agreed. They wanted to solve this mystery but rather than ask their children they scolded. Beatings, yelling, and threats encouraged the teens to stray from home and seek new acceptance.

16 months ago a legendary drug lord set up shop in the next county. He’s been in the business for decades, climbing the ranks while trying to remain under the radar. Apparently he was the supplier for celebrities; actors, musicians, artists, and even law enforcement. As an acquaintance to these famous people he could easily earn thousands and possibly millions. His name will remain undisclosed to protect my own life. It’s been known that he has ties to the mafia even as high up and far away as the president of Colombia. Supposedly, he sells more than drugs. This includes guns, fake ID cards, illegal DVDs, forged passports and I heard he once got a hold of top secret FBI information, probably some machine that could instantly double his drug exports. He is a legend but nobody knows where he came from. According to legend, he was dealing dope at the age of sixteen. He took over his mother’s family business at a dry cleaner. Instead of laundry detergent he washed clothes with cocaine to give his favorite customers a new high by letting absorb through the skin. This is how much of a genius he is. He’s cool, calm, and collected. He doesn’t break a sweat and never raises his voice. His patience is thick just like his wallet. Any trouble he ever gets into becomes quickly resolved. There seems to be a special system worked out for him.

23 minutes into the drug lord’s latest trial, the judge collapsed and died. Before this unpredictable event, the judge was in the privacy of her chambers; out of the eye from media. There, she indulged in her guilty pleasure. She injected heroin into her arm. Who would ever find out the judge, a position in which the law is enforced upon others, would break the very rules she is meant to uphold? Well, everybody did. Seconds before the incident, the jurors announced their verdict one by one. A face that was locally published in the newspapers was that of juror number four. It’s been a couple of days since his art show; he was still looking distraught over that mess of a night. How ironic is it that a druggie artist was called to jury duty for a man that most likely supplied him his fix? As the judge’s fresh corpse lay on the floor, the case was dismissed. The drug lord was yet another innocent man. He held a slight smile. Perhaps there was some sort of persuasion. The entire jury all agreed to find him not guilty and it was discovered in the judge’s chambers that she had decided he was innocent long before the trial. Her bank records were looked into, for some connecting reason, and it was discovered she had recently deposited a large sum of money.

42 thousand dollars is how much a human is worth, according to the drug lord. Nobody seems to mind being paid off. This means all twelve jurors, judges, police officers, government officials, witnesses, and countless others. They are bribed by the drug lord and his cronies, money to fill their mouths with lies. They greedily accept any amount in order to speed trials along. They want to get on with their lives instead of being stuck in court; as if they have something better to do. Nothing good will ever come out of a corrupt government. Once our little town is goes under we’ll be in the headlines. “Small Town Rotting Away,” and they’ll just let us stir in the filth and mischief we created. We’ll be known as the poorest, most drug induced, intoxicated, stupidest place on Earth. Who should care about our town when they’re probably dealing with the same problems? The rest of the world will look at us with ignoring eyes and muffled ears; they don’t want to hear our pleas for help. And we’ll all be swept along with these incidences under the carpet of tenth grade history textbooks. Never to be read by the drugged out teens in our schools.

Too Sweaty

It actually is kinda hot, luckily I have a fan on. So at the moment I'm watching my cousin and running on about 4 hours of sleep (it was last minute). I also need a haircut...that's my weeks goal. Wow today is Tuesday too..feels like Monday to me, probably because I don't have a job. Anyways, I'm just helping my cousin with video games, that's it. Might take a nap when he leaves...other than that I ain't got nothin to do.

Gettin Hot in Here

Here is another poem I wrote. I'm really happy with the first and third stanza. Not really diggin the second, but I'll work on that later. I was inspired by Angels and Airwaves, all the space and beautiful words.

Orange Sky

Standing below an orange sky
Tell me your dreams I’ll tell you mine.
Everyday beings with brand new
lives. A whole new chance to
strive and make those goals true as sound.
Reaching towards still floating clouds.
I told you once of my favorite place,
where I found you lying in full embrace, of
empty stars and silent stares from
worn out scars and dying flares.
Then you took my hand as
we ran for miles into fields of tulipped smiles.
We stumbled once and rolled up high
Splashing down beneath that orange sky.

I never thought that I would feel
this way, whenever we touch I have
chills that stay. Fill my heart with racing beats
that try and escape in bounding
fleets. My secret wish is to laugh with you.
I miss the half days where I threw,
my arms around your hips
to feel them sway while locking eyes that flew me high.
These are the dreams you wanted
to pry, which make me melt into that orange sky.

There was a crack in the moon
the night we danced. It crumbled, exposed to
our romance. Its white dust crown sighted for
the ground but our toes stayed light
ready for flight. The cosmic streaks
kissed our cheeks and scattered into
flurries of moths. They flutter in a frenzy,
the night comes to an ending. A fire begins
to conspire the sun rising higher. Our night
never died even with an orange sky.

Burning Bright

I wish I could have been part of the cast of Lost. *siiiigh* I'm sad it's gone but it's a good thing. It's like they gained a new life and I'll have to start mine.

I had a fun time at the Lost party. I won a backgammon set which I will have to learn to play now. There was Dharm-ade (juices), Island golf (wii), and even a countdown timer. Kim and I were dressed as Orchid Orientation rabbits:

http://img97.imageshack.us/img97/7352/bunnyaq.jpg

It was neat, people liked it. I'm satisfied with the ending. I really have no complaints. I wish I was friends with Damon and Carlton...maybe someday.

(happy birthday honey<3)

Fire Raising Higher

I'm kinda getting the hang of blogs now. I just added a couple to follow and I'm in the process of putting a picture up on the home page. But in the mean time, if you'd like, here is my twitter if you want to follow. I'm new there too so there's not much going on.

http://twitter.com/jake_whritenour

Other than that I am currently watching Star Wards on Spike TV. In less than an hour is my girlfriends birthday aaand the Lost finale...thanks a lot. Luckily she's a fan<3

Embers begin to Glow

Good morning, well afternoon but it's still morning for me. I will post my first piece of writing now. If you like Lost and you like poetry then this is for you.


“Hearts and Minds”

This is a special night for you and I.
We shared our first kiss and love.
But that was before we got here.
And before I was drugged.
It made me think you were endangered,
by the mysterious black cloud.
Then I saved you but it wasn’t far behind.
I heard it clanking, roaring, and chirping as it came close.
It was dark and rumbling. All I could see was fear.
The Monster grabbed you, it tore you apart.
I held your shredded body in my arms.
It tore us apart.
I blamed the man who drugged me.
But he told me it was my imagination.
It’s what I wanted to see.
I felt relieved from what it showed me.
You were gone, I was free from you.
And I felt relieved.

Fanning the Fire

Well that break didn't last long, I have nothing else to do really. I'll be posting some things I've written eventually, probably the next post. Also, I'm getting used to these blog things, I kinda know what I'm doing. I'll have to get someone else to put up fancy pictures because I have no idea how to code.

I just saw the new Shrek movie, it was cute and a little sad in some parts but I didn't cry. I don't think it'll be the last movie; it really didn't seem like an ending. Plus Shrek just got its own star on the Hollywood walk of fame so why stop at four movies?

Anyways, what else should I say? Oh yea, if you don't understand my post titles they have some relation to fire (because of the blog title) so far the blog is growing like a flame, except not as hot.

Glancing Rocks to Start the Sparks

This is my first ever blog post (hooray to whoever cares). I am currently watching Jimmy Kimmel Live to watch Damon Lindelof and Carlton Cuse, two people I admire greatly. In a couple of days my favorite TV show (Lost) is coming to an end...but it's been a wonderful run. So I guess I'll be posting more later because I need to start my Lost marathon before Sunday. Check ya later.