Last week I had to write a mock college acceptance essay
Well as always I will post the rough draft and polish it (maybe) later.
3a. In order for the Admissions staff of our college to get to know you, the applicant, better we ask that you answer the following question: Are there any significant experiences you have had, or accomplishments you have realized, that have helped to define you as a person?
I am a bag of carbon matter that one day felt like becoming. My name was supposed to be Dog, but the lady who was registering was dyslexic… and stoned. I have received more hate mail than the President, I have more friends than Tom, and I have sold more books than Rowling. Jesus calls me Pops.
I can speak two hundred and twenty seven million different languages, fluently; some of them are only spoken by one person. I found a flaw on Pythagoras’ Theorem. The Big Bang Theory is based on the day I decided to conduct an experiment with a match and a fart. Microsoft Word once formally asked me to spellcheck their spellcheck. Despite the curse, I can say Macbeth in the theater. I cannot, unfortunately, measure my IQ because the machine does not go over 100,000,000.
When I was a baby, I was only fed with Jack Daniels. I can beat Chuck Norris in an arm-wrestle competition with my pinkie. I can sneeze with my eyes open while secreting mucus from my iris. I once traveled through all European countries on a unicycle—Nude.
The movie series “Saw” and all of the Cannibal Corpse albums only cover a small part of a typical Saturday night with my pals. I, currently, hold all the world records; thus the Guinness Book only shows the second place losers. I can write my English essay in txt language and still get a perfect score. Tolkien did my landscaping; in his free time he wrote a few books about his adventures in my back yard.
I can say “that’s what she said” with perfect timing. Perfect timing, Ha! That’s what she said. So you better let me in.
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Friday, October 24, 2008
Stream of Constiousness
A decent idea turned out bad.... REALLY bad but Im posting it anyways just because I haven't updated in like.... two months
Ornec Ailiph
He loves her, but he knows they don’t love his love for her. In fact, they do not love anything about him, and they always call him sick. But not sick as in fever sick, but sick as in mentally sick, but he knows he is not sick… Well maybe just a little sick, but after all who is not just a little sick? He always loved her, and he swore to God that this feeling would never change. Maybe God is the only one who understands him, well God and Ballard, but Ballard is not really his friend. God always speaks directly to him, and perhaps the hatred of the other people is caused by their jealousy.
Ah! The night is beautiful and it is just the perfect setting for him to take his beloved on a date. “Bzzzzzzzzzzzz” He knows this is God’s sign revealing that He is about to send a message from above. ”Just ignore them all, they will try to ruin your night, but don’t let that happen.” He knows that God is always right, so he tries to prepare himself for the fatuous comments of the other people. After a twenty minutes drive, they arrive at the beach. He loves the beach, but not as much as he loves her. They sit in the old ragged chair that he had brought from his house; they watch the waves break right before reaching their toes for hours and hours. The wet sand sticks to his feet creating a truly relaxing moment. Although the sand does not stick in her feet, he still loves her no matter what.
His body shivers with the cold waters, but she is not bothered by them because for the past few months she has become very intimate with the cold. He does not care about her cold body, because he truly loves her. His body mimics the gentle and yet powerful motions of the sea. Soon many bystanders gather around them and give him a look of disgust and pity. They call him insane, but he does not care because he loves her. Following God’s instructions, he tries to ignore them, until they forcefully try to separate their bond.
He shrikes and screams, but they overcome his strength. They point at him and call him sick, but he knows he is not sick, maybe sick of love but not really sick. After breaking their physical bond, the they toss his beloved in the sea, make a prayer and finally release the “mad man”. This “mad man” decides to jump in the sea in search of his now lost love. Someone tries to impede him from jumping, but another does not let him take any action thus allowing the man to jump. The man who tried to save him gets angry, but the other other whispers on his ear: “Let him jump. It is better for him, because poor man never got over the loss of his wife that died a few months ago.”
Days passed by, and the two bodies were found, he died holding his beloved wife. Yes, he kept the promise he had made to God, he truly loved her.
Ornec Ailiph
He loves her, but he knows they don’t love his love for her. In fact, they do not love anything about him, and they always call him sick. But not sick as in fever sick, but sick as in mentally sick, but he knows he is not sick… Well maybe just a little sick, but after all who is not just a little sick? He always loved her, and he swore to God that this feeling would never change. Maybe God is the only one who understands him, well God and Ballard, but Ballard is not really his friend. God always speaks directly to him, and perhaps the hatred of the other people is caused by their jealousy.
Ah! The night is beautiful and it is just the perfect setting for him to take his beloved on a date. “Bzzzzzzzzzzzz” He knows this is God’s sign revealing that He is about to send a message from above. ”Just ignore them all, they will try to ruin your night, but don’t let that happen.” He knows that God is always right, so he tries to prepare himself for the fatuous comments of the other people. After a twenty minutes drive, they arrive at the beach. He loves the beach, but not as much as he loves her. They sit in the old ragged chair that he had brought from his house; they watch the waves break right before reaching their toes for hours and hours. The wet sand sticks to his feet creating a truly relaxing moment. Although the sand does not stick in her feet, he still loves her no matter what.
His body shivers with the cold waters, but she is not bothered by them because for the past few months she has become very intimate with the cold. He does not care about her cold body, because he truly loves her. His body mimics the gentle and yet powerful motions of the sea. Soon many bystanders gather around them and give him a look of disgust and pity. They call him insane, but he does not care because he loves her. Following God’s instructions, he tries to ignore them, until they forcefully try to separate their bond.
He shrikes and screams, but they overcome his strength. They point at him and call him sick, but he knows he is not sick, maybe sick of love but not really sick. After breaking their physical bond, the they toss his beloved in the sea, make a prayer and finally release the “mad man”. This “mad man” decides to jump in the sea in search of his now lost love. Someone tries to impede him from jumping, but another does not let him take any action thus allowing the man to jump. The man who tried to save him gets angry, but the other other whispers on his ear: “Let him jump. It is better for him, because poor man never got over the loss of his wife that died a few months ago.”
Days passed by, and the two bodies were found, he died holding his beloved wife. Yes, he kept the promise he had made to God, he truly loved her.
Sunday, September 21, 2008
Blanket
Well this is a pretty crappy story that I wrote a few minutes ago... It was a good idea that did not turn out so well ><
Blanket
I laid over you in the darkest of the nights. I brought you protection, comfort, and warmth. As a child I was your best friend. We used to walk holding hands to wherever your imagination took us. I hid you from your own demons, and together we fought against the biggest of the foes.
As you grew, now being able to cope with your inner demons by yourself, I remained by your side. No, I was not just one more piece of cloth that is so disposable and weak! I was once again your best friend. The only one who heard all of your problems, the one who you cried to, and the one who never judged any of your actions. I brought you warmth, and was present in your most private relations.
Now, my friend, I am by your side once again. But this time I will be the only one with you, for where we are going no one may hear us, and we will not be heard by any one. I am truly thankful for the kindness and memories you supplied me, and really did not mind all the years of volunteer work I've been through... Because I did it all, my beloved, for the love I always felt to you.
Blanket
I laid over you in the darkest of the nights. I brought you protection, comfort, and warmth. As a child I was your best friend. We used to walk holding hands to wherever your imagination took us. I hid you from your own demons, and together we fought against the biggest of the foes.
As you grew, now being able to cope with your inner demons by yourself, I remained by your side. No, I was not just one more piece of cloth that is so disposable and weak! I was once again your best friend. The only one who heard all of your problems, the one who you cried to, and the one who never judged any of your actions. I brought you warmth, and was present in your most private relations.
Now, my friend, I am by your side once again. But this time I will be the only one with you, for where we are going no one may hear us, and we will not be heard by any one. I am truly thankful for the kindness and memories you supplied me, and really did not mind all the years of volunteer work I've been through... Because I did it all, my beloved, for the love I always felt to you.
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Random Journal
This one was written for my creative writing class, nah its not the best but some people enjoy it... The topic was pretty open but I didnt feel like writing anything "dark/deep" but I did put some time on the metaphors.
Well hope you enjoy!
Patience
Time passes by, nothing happens, and no one moves. Who created these lines? Somehow we are capable of curing cancer, and yet we have not figured out a way to stop this big waste of time! Going to the post-office should save me time. I always thought it was a way to send things without actually delivering them yourself.... God, I was wrong.
The continuous ticking of the old ticking clock drives me insane. I look to the ceiling and see those cheap fluorescent lights. Their annoying buzzing fuse with clock's ticking creating a truly hellish noise. Despite the irksome cacophony, some people manage to ignore it and even contribute to this living hell. The old ladies in front of me, for example, they seem to be having the best time of their lives... perhaps their social life is limited to this, waiting in line to talk about their pathetic existence.
When I think things could not get any worse, I look back and see three sweaty men. One of them seems to be holding a very colorful package, while the others are pretty much just standing with him. Suddenly they start talking in a language that sounds like gibberish to me. I try to ignore but I just can't, it draws my attention and I try to guess what they are saying, what is on that package, and to whom is he sending it to. Maybe it’s some kind of bomb, or perhaps a stuffed pony for his daughter who still lives in Mexico, Venezuela, or Puerto Rico.
I look down and stare at my foot that seems to be tapping on the floor by itself, marking the compass of that damn clock. As I was approaching my breaking point, I hear a gentle voice say: "May I help the next customer?" I give her a false smile and she happily smiles back to me (making me, for a moment, forget about the distress I have just been through). I reach for my wallet and pay my fee, after that she looks at me in the eyes and say with a tender voice: "Have a nice day Sir." Yeah like that was possible. Her hypocritical comment makes anger run through my veins. However somehow I can say nothing but: "You too!" I quickly exit the building, shouting anathemas in my head, but glad that everything was over and with a sense of pride for not letting myself succumb to the stress of those five long minutes.
Well hope you enjoy!
Patience
Time passes by, nothing happens, and no one moves. Who created these lines? Somehow we are capable of curing cancer, and yet we have not figured out a way to stop this big waste of time! Going to the post-office should save me time. I always thought it was a way to send things without actually delivering them yourself.... God, I was wrong.
The continuous ticking of the old ticking clock drives me insane. I look to the ceiling and see those cheap fluorescent lights. Their annoying buzzing fuse with clock's ticking creating a truly hellish noise. Despite the irksome cacophony, some people manage to ignore it and even contribute to this living hell. The old ladies in front of me, for example, they seem to be having the best time of their lives... perhaps their social life is limited to this, waiting in line to talk about their pathetic existence.
When I think things could not get any worse, I look back and see three sweaty men. One of them seems to be holding a very colorful package, while the others are pretty much just standing with him. Suddenly they start talking in a language that sounds like gibberish to me. I try to ignore but I just can't, it draws my attention and I try to guess what they are saying, what is on that package, and to whom is he sending it to. Maybe it’s some kind of bomb, or perhaps a stuffed pony for his daughter who still lives in Mexico, Venezuela, or Puerto Rico.
I look down and stare at my foot that seems to be tapping on the floor by itself, marking the compass of that damn clock. As I was approaching my breaking point, I hear a gentle voice say: "May I help the next customer?" I give her a false smile and she happily smiles back to me (making me, for a moment, forget about the distress I have just been through). I reach for my wallet and pay my fee, after that she looks at me in the eyes and say with a tender voice: "Have a nice day Sir." Yeah like that was possible. Her hypocritical comment makes anger run through my veins. However somehow I can say nothing but: "You too!" I quickly exit the building, shouting anathemas in my head, but glad that everything was over and with a sense of pride for not letting myself succumb to the stress of those five long minutes.
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
Back! And new Journal
Yes I am finally back, and I also did a clean up all the crap in this blog.... Anyways I will continue posting my writing works here, and I do have a new one.
This one is called "The Endless Search" and was written recently
Upon my consciousness I seek the source of this feeling... Which delivers me a sudden sensation of despair and of cluelessness that leads me to the fatuous desire of consuming my own soul. Yet, I have the impression that I lack something; that something is supposed to be surrounding me... Be it my sanity? Perhaps in my search for awareness I came upon the thin line between reality and fiction. I may not tell when this sensation started, for as long as I can remember it has been with me, and it is following my every move.
No matter where my face is turned to, no matter whose face I gaze upon... No thoughts I have but the imagery of my own death, yet no reason I may find... For my life has been nothing but the life desired by all. I do not recall any moment where I could deeply blame myself for betraying my conscious. Yet why does this feeling of guilt haunts me? Moment by moment I feel as I am drifting towards complete apathy and in my absence everything will interact flawlessly; my lack of presence means nothing to no one but myself. As I speak these words, life loses it's meaning... Minute after minute Death becomes my desired maid...
As I lay my head down trying to get rid of all of these morbid thoughts (which makes me wonder if I still carry a human soul) I come upon the conclusion that life is nothing but a long and painful wait, until the day that my dear Death will come and embrace me, and finally all the pain will cease...
This one is called "The Endless Search" and was written recently
Upon my consciousness I seek the source of this feeling... Which delivers me a sudden sensation of despair and of cluelessness that leads me to the fatuous desire of consuming my own soul. Yet, I have the impression that I lack something; that something is supposed to be surrounding me... Be it my sanity? Perhaps in my search for awareness I came upon the thin line between reality and fiction. I may not tell when this sensation started, for as long as I can remember it has been with me, and it is following my every move.
No matter where my face is turned to, no matter whose face I gaze upon... No thoughts I have but the imagery of my own death, yet no reason I may find... For my life has been nothing but the life desired by all. I do not recall any moment where I could deeply blame myself for betraying my conscious. Yet why does this feeling of guilt haunts me? Moment by moment I feel as I am drifting towards complete apathy and in my absence everything will interact flawlessly; my lack of presence means nothing to no one but myself. As I speak these words, life loses it's meaning... Minute after minute Death becomes my desired maid...
As I lay my head down trying to get rid of all of these morbid thoughts (which makes me wonder if I still carry a human soul) I come upon the conclusion that life is nothing but a long and painful wait, until the day that my dear Death will come and embrace me, and finally all the pain will cease...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
