THE Introduction

This blog will consist of great writing pieces because-well- you know I'm amazing at writing, just saying. These writing pieces are just a collaboration of my thoughts on paper. It does not mean that if one thing is heart filled that the whole rest of this website will be. Anyways, whoever is reading this--I hope you're not a complete weirdo--you should be in for a show. I'm Kyle, but call me tonight, I am a senior at Spring Lake HS. I have not always been here but I have seemed to call it my ¨home¨. I really don't know where else to go with this introduction to this blog so hopefully my writing can keep you here. I hope you enjoy.

Dreaming

I’m not one for sharing my feelings, but this is my heart on my sleeves. Knowing that I am leaving soon I can't stop seeing you when I close my eyes. I had a dream last night about you. Not one like a typical teenage boy but one maybe seeing into the future. I was standing there, I could feel my heart sink--heavy with pain--knowing that maybe if I would have figured this all out sooner than--maybe--it wouldn't hurt so bad. I don't know where we were or why we were there, all I know and all I cared about was that you were there. I looked up at you to find your face close to mine smiling--letting me know that everything is alright--I put my hand on your cheek softly; I could feel a single tear roll through my fingers. It seemed it didn’t want to fall to the ground, but it wanted to stay…. As it finally left my hand, I found that time stopped as I looked into your eyes, you glowed, bright lights shined as your smile came back through the sadness in your eyes. I felt okay, finding myself thinking Are you the one? Is this really meant to be? What will this lead to? I know we are young and a little starstruck by this feeling but I have this sense that this is true. Then time returns and everything starts moving faster and faster, we embrace each other in our arms, just standing there.. The surroundings disappeared as we found ourselves standing in a single spot light, the rest of our surrounding was black. As I felt it was now or never I leaned in for a kiss that would be the true deciding factor, to know if this was meant to be or not. My lips inches away from yours I could feel that this was the moment I was looking for, after all these years, when I used to try and find 'the one'.  You disappeared as I found myself there in this spotlight all by myself.

Then I woke, staring at a clock that read 6:35 A.M.  

My Questions To The World

1. WhatIf I wet myself and I told the teacher?
2. How would I look in a dress?
3. WhatIf I eat bacon around vegetarians? 
4. Could I stop drop and open up shop all by myself?
5. Is Ice Cube my cousin?
6. WhatIf I was the lead singer in One Direction?
7. Could I really have a V8?
8. Where do babies come from?
9. Does my junk look weird in these shorts?
10. Is Abby Lee Miller, from Dance Moms, anyone else's role model?

The Crackle

That crackle of a bat

That smell of freshly cut grass,

A little hint of a breeze.

Hearing small silent footsteps,

As players creep

The pitcher starts leading his hip towards the plate

Seeing everything with a focused lens

In the zone

A simple slap of a hand

Running towards the leather that you call a mitt

That crackle of a bat, hitting

The little 5oz white ball caressed with red laces

running every which way

Holding,

Tightly spinning on its travel to the sky.

Higher,

Higher,

As if God himself is holding it gently in his hands

All of a sudden it halts at the peak of its destination

Remembering it was alive.

Then it comes back to reality

As if its journey was coming to a finish

Descending

Cutting the air in half on its path back to Earth

The sound of footsteps,

As if someone was running to safety.

The smack of a glove,

Not of hand but of excitement

That little white sphere with red laces

Held like a newborn baby in the hands of a fielders leather mitt.

___________________________________________________

Hearing those small silent steps

Becoming loud  as if their cleats were handcrafted from cement.

The smell of freshly cut grass

Drawn in by the playful breeze.

Quieting all the surroundings and sorrows

Filled in with loud yelps of excitement.

Because,

This is a game made for man but played by kids who

This is Baseball.

The Monster You Never Knew About

What if your favorite food was turned into a monster-- with arms and legs-- and wanted to eat you? What would you do? Would you bring together a group of "heroes" to save the day; What if you wanted to serenade the beast--Or--come up with a way to kill the monster and make it so everyone on Earth could taste the freedom, with every last bite.

Let me just give you an idea of what this thing would look like. Picture a normal slab of lasagna put some noodle arms and around eight noodle legs, like a octopus.

Okay got it......Good.... Cause’ I'm not going to explain it any other way. Now go up to the top layer of the lasagna, where the meat and the cheeses meet (haha), put eyes of a demon--rivers of red--looking to eat you for breakfast.

After that, look down a little to find its mouth... Just to see the smallest little slit and then when he sees you....BAM!!!

That mouth opens with a large creepy like smile--sharp teeth like razors. Knowing you'll be sliced in half of you would touch it. Now take all of this and imagine it around 30x larger!!

DAMN!!!

Michael

Standing on a street corner in downtown New York City. Holding a cardboard sign, rugged: as if it was used for shelter from the rain. This sign said ‘Will work for HOPE’ written with the E backwards, like a kindergartner,-- sounding blunt and obvious to all the power walkers, shoppers, and drivers that go by him in New York. Your eyes travel through the sign to find this young adult on the other side. As you scan him low-to-high, you've notice every little thing. His ripped Levi jeans,-- held up by one of his mud-filled shoelaces. Going farther and farther up his body; your eyes begins to go on a journey of struggles. His body was caressed and held together by a chemical green jacket; puffy and warm even though it was the middle of July. His thick wool hat, itchy and prickly like a cactus. running down rivers of sorrows to find his scratched out name tag, yet still being able to make out a name. Michael.