7-5: Well, here it is the day after the fourth of july. I had a lot of fun yesterday, I hung out with some friends, ate some barbequed food and shot off fireworks. Fireworks ruled. There is nothing like bottle rocket wars, I nailed one of my friends in the ass (with a bottlerocket, mind you) and ended up shooting myself in the chest one time. After that I sat around and watched people get drunk and make complete asses out of themselves.
It's raining today. i love rain. running water of any kind eases me. It just makes me feel better, perhaps its the cleansing aspect of it. so here i am sitting at home listenin' to Bob Tilton, which is probably making me sadder than I usually am, but I think I can handle it. Today hasn't been terribly exciting, which is why I'm sitting here writing in this journal. Usually I don't write because I think my writing (though this is more rambling and babbling) is terrible and I get angry at myself and end up slamming the computer down in a fit of furious rage. So, even though I don't write much for fun, I'm going to be putting a couple of essays up here that I wrote for school that I think are somewhat sincere and well-written. Maybe some day, if I ever write poetry that I think is worth putting up I'll post that too but don't count on it. Ok, well this ended rather premature.
7-6: Alright, I finally got off my ass yesterday to write some decent poetry, so here it goes.
Entitled:
the pavement slides beneath my shoes,
as I bathe in the rain,
dripping down, hiding my tears.
Eyes, raw and red, I glare at the sky.
Defiant, I defy reason.
Because I have to.
Call it what you must.
A hopeless hope, it’s all they’ve left me.
Two sides to this coin, one, marred, the other, absent.
Clawing, scraping through the mire, my angel within sight.
her shattered wings: birthed in hope and drowned in sorrow.
Broken, I weep.
Well, folks, there you go. A john guthrie original. Write me and tell me what you think. BE HONEST, I can take criticism. guthrie@alaska.net . I'm a big boy. I think this poem has potential but it needs some work.
Now, for the rest of my day. Work was exciting, I love it when cute girls come in and sometimes, i actually work up the courage to talk to 'em. Though this doesn't happen all to often, my mind usually locks up and I end up getting tongue-tied and start babbling stupid-like. After I got off work I went to a baseball game where we proceeded to get beat 13-3 by the all-stars a league below us. It was quite embarrassing. I ended up getting an argument with some of my teammates who don't really care for my "always smiley" attitude and mistake it for a lack of effort and care. That's just how I handle things, I tried to explain that to them by asking them how they could tell I wasn't working hard. Maybe they just think my head isn't in the game. This is kinda pointless to talk about, but I feel better by being loose and joking around rather than taking it all too seriously. Besides, what's the point of playing if it isn't fun. I don't care what people say, Winning does not make something fun. I mean, sure, winning can be fun sometimes, but not all the time. Needless to say, this made me angry but I got over it. Now, I'm home (on the computer, again). So ends this journal entry. More poetry to come soon (perhaps).