A Unique Group of Letters

Wheels:
Skateboarding is probably one of my favorite things to do. It works as a stress reliever from all the crap in my mind. Whenever I need a break from doing homework, I skate. That crispy feeling when I pop an ollie is so refreshing! It’s one of those feelings you have to experience to understand. No words in the English language can be arranged in any structured sentence to describe the amount of joy landing a trick on a smooth concrete platform one feels. If there was a song that was basically just the sound of someone’s board rolling on the mind-easing ground of tranquility, I would have to lock myself in my room forever, so i can experience a limited amount of happiness. Some people smoke to relieve stress, but all I need is two pairs of wheels attached to piece of wood. The wheels are the engine and the deck is my world, and I can take it wherever I want. Sometimes I ride with my earphones plugged in to a little device which produces a strange phenomenon known as music. It gets me in the mood, and it tells everyone around me to just leave me alone. I used to do it all the time. I used to be really good at it. But now it seems as if I’m drifting apart from it. It’s like everything I do slowly detaches me from that source of happiness I used to know. Now every time I try to get back on my board, I find it hard to keep balance. I can’t land the same tricks I used to land. My wheels won’t spin as fast as they used to and it’s frustrating. The friend I once loved is now my enemy. It's good to know your enemy. Know Your Enemy.

The Value of Life:
I remember I went to Disneyland last summer with my family. I went there when I was in first grade, and now it was time for my six year old brother to experience the fun. It was so boring over there. There was nothing but rides for little kids. Everywhere I looked there were guys in the costumes of Disney characters, I bet they liked hugging the children. Every day was as boring as f**k, same annoying kids and stupid rides. The food there was terrible and so freaking expensive. Junk food every day. I think I gained five pounds that week, I felt so unhealthy. The worst thing I ate was this burger. It just looked gross and it tasted weird. I can’t really describe the taste, all I remember is it tasting gross. I still ate it though. Eating that burger made me think about how they made the patty. Then that made me think about how humans attain the patty in the first place. I thought about it for a while, visualizing men slaughtering cows. There was blood EVERYWHERE. The next day we had to go back home. Two days later I went on Facebook. I was scrolling down the statuses and I found one that caught my attention. “Just had the nastiest burger…it’s not even worth killing cows if they’re going to taste this bad!” It reminded me of that nasty burger I had in Disneyland. Then I thought about cow slaughtering again, but this time I Google searched it. After three hours of watching videos and reading articles, I finally stepped out of my room. I was so astonished, the way cows are massacred is so inhumane. I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Visions of animals suffering in agony were locked inside my mind and I couldn’t find the key to get them out. I ate cows that day, but I couldn’t finish it. A couple days later I finally found the key I was looking for, I stopped eating meat.
             


Earphones Predict Your Thoughts:
Everyone I know listens to something. My parents, uncles, and aunts listen to Spanish music. I personally don’t like that stuff. I can tolerate it up to the point where it’s overplayed, then it gets really annoying. Sometimes when I go to parties they have their music turned up so loud. Then at night (when the men are drunk) they sing along with the songs. Sometimes I see them with an acoustic guitar, playing and singing…embarrassing themselves. My sister used to listen to R&B only, but something inside her changed because now she listens to rock. She listens to punk and emo bands. It probably has something to do with the way she dresses. She wears skinny jeans, black shirts, bracelets, and has one eye covered with her hair. She listens to music all the time. I always see her with her earphones plugged in. Music so loud I can barely hear myself think, when I have something to think about. She does it because she doesn’t want to hear it. She’s tired of people telling her what’s good for her, reminding her of her expectations, her parents asking her about her personal life, and people telling her what to do. Punk rock is freedom. She doesn’t care if too much sound will make her develop a hearing problem or something because according to peers, she already does. She locks herself in her room and doesn’t come out unless she’s hungry. Her parents worry about her and ask what’s wrong, they say they want to be aware of her problems and how she’s feeling. But she doesn’t care if they think she’s crazy, she doesn’t want them to understand. It’s not worth talking if you know nobody can help you. That’s why she writes her own lyrics. That’s why no one ever sees her without her I-Pod. As for me, I don’t listen to music. I don’t have to.

Six-String Darkness:

We have to go to this barbecue at my cousins’ house. I’m not too excited; it usually isn’t very interesting when I go there. But this time it was different. I saw this kid. He was about my age, my height, and looked bored. He has a blue electric guitar strapped to his shoulder, with a pretty big amp plugged into the outlet on the wall. His guitar was covered in stickers. They all meant something to him, and sent a confusing yet important message to anyone who looked at them. One of them said “In Rainbows”. That painted a bright visual of a group of a perfect group of people living in a perfect, colorful world. By colorful I mean healthy, full of ideas, and no depression. I can imagine a variety of species arranged in a line, creating poetic symbol of life in a way not many people notice…kind of like a rainbow. I see another phrase, it says “Shut up! Don’t Wanna Hear It!!!” That reminds me of my parents. Recordings of their demanding voices playback in my head. It annoys the hell out of me, and I hate how it does. The guy doesn’t talk much, but he’s not shy. He demonstrates that in the way he plays. He strums the living hell out of his guitar. So aggressive, but it’s addicting to watch. I wonder what’s on his mind as he’s playing. Is he thinking about his problems? Or is he thinking about how cool he looks when he plunks the power chords and throws them at my face? Or maybe both. Those power chords he’s playing are pretty solid. I feel that sense of rebellion he feels. He probably doesn’t care about school. I’m sure he’s desperate to be in a band. He locks himself in his room for several hours writing music and lyrics. I’m impressed. And he’s depressed.

Motivation is Such an Aggravation:

So I was talking to this friend of mine about school. He is doing really poorly in school.

“Dude, you have to work harder in school.”

“I know, I know.”

“Are you planning to going to college?”

“Maybe, I don’t think I can though.”

“You can, just do your freaking homework!”

“I’m just lazy, you know.”

“At least give it some effort, you’ll ruin your life if you don’t.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Doubt it.”