Suspended

There was a huge metal slide out in the playground area. The old school ones that just went straight down. I was sliding down the slide and some kid was running up he tried to climb over me but in doing so pressed my arm into the very hot slide. My arm was burning and he was not letting me move, I was a very little kid until probably my junior year of high school. I bit him, I drew blood, I actually took a chunk of his arm. I specifically remember spitting out the chunk of skin and him screaming at the top of his lungs and me just rubbing my burnt arm. Obviously I could not defend myself as the two wounds were nowhere near the same in the way that they looked. I am under the personal impression and can't prove this but everyone will do anything if the circumstances stacked against them or for them. People will vary on what the circumstances are and how far they will be pushed, but everyone has that point where they will change their actual mind frame to support their decision. In this circumstance it was my arm getting burned to bite another kids arm.

Life story...

Her hair was really curly naturally curly, there is something sexy about curly hair but yet there is something sexy about straight hair. In fact, there something sexy about hair in general anyway its styled. At A.H. we brought or own lunches sack or boxes if you forgot your lunch there was a sort off unwritten law of consecration/sacrifice of everyone's lunches. There was this time when I forgot my lunch and a girl offered me sprouts for her dessert, I don't like sprouts nor have I ever liked them but ate them because I looking back, knew that she did not have as much as I did. I did not have alot growing up compared to others and we may have been considered lower class but I never went without. My father always had a job and always went to work. I never really understood money and how it works until I was probably 22 and am still learning. I hope I can teach my kids much earlier than I learned.

What will eight months do?

I wanted to give the thousands of people that read this an explanation on the lack of writing over the past eight months. I did not get accepted to Grad school and internally took quite a blow. I have had many ideas but the will is not there. I somehow knew that at some point this would happen because 99 percent of the people that write actually don't get read.

I have decided to try and write my life story from beginning to end. I have committed to an hour a day of which will take away from my hour of reading but who cares. So at the end of the year I should be about 8395 hours behind just what happened this year including sleep. I have some work to do and since no one reads poetry anymore who gives a shit right.

If I were God or a God I would want to punch everyone in the face people are so stupid including me.

Ok so somewhere close to nine months before my mother gave birth to me in American Samoa, my mom and dad made me. My father claims that he can remember when each of his kids was concieved, I don't know if thats true or not but there is no way in hell I could tell when any of my three kids where concieved.
I was born in a hospital on the Island of American Samoa into a devot Mormon family who was there on a Mission/service arrangment by the church. I really don't recall anything until I was probably 4/5. The first Memory I can think of is of a family argument talking place in our station wagon with the wood on the sides. We were talking a drive up Squa Peak Road checking out the seaosons changing colors. Somehow I got a bloody nose and my older brother got smacked upside the head by my dead and I think now that I thought it was funny then. So I should probably tell about the make up of my family so when i mention a name you will know what im talking about. I have a mom, a dad, older brother, older sister, older sister (deceased), younger sister. The hospital where my mom had my little sister was an ugly green and the hall ways didn't have pictures or window. Like an insane asylum sort of at least thats what the movies say of which my mind thinks is what real asylyms look like. Its only been 20 minutes and I am already bored of my life.
Growing up in Utah your church friends are your school friends and thats pretty much the standard way of making friends. There is no way to put this in any form that will make sense until I separate things into categories so here are the categories School Church Friends Girls Family.
School-my birthday is past the deadline so I started a year earlier than all the other kids in my class. I went to a private school named American Heritage which has been rebuilt and started again with in the past few years. I don't think we had the money to go to a private school I just remember that my mom taugh there or was a room mother or something like that. My older sister went there for a while but then she went to the high school that was byour house. I don't remeber if it was a mormon school but I remeber that we said a prayer before class each day and said the pledge of alligience.
American Heritage is on the Purple Turtle road going to Bryce's old house or Discovery park I forget which one comes first either way it is on that road on the left side as you drive up the canyon. I remember riding a bus to the school and a girl name mary ann hopkins short curly hair.

Like snow on naked leaves
this decision weighs me down.