tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-61641782011-04-21T19:16:34.064-07:00Story timeTyped when I had free time. Please don't say anything too mean, ok?Chris Nessnoreply@blogger.comBlogger131100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6164178.post-1099034558218205582004-10-29T00:21:00.000-07:002004-10-29T00:22:38.216-07:00SlidingSliding sideways down the road, he wondered how he had come to this point. So far, he had traced it back to 7th grade.
He had found a seat in the back of the class, where he was comfortable. Just out of private school, and assigned seating, he was starting a habit that would last for a while. He definitely wasn’t outgoing. The only person he met in that class was to be his best friend through Chris Nessnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6164178.post-1085809684248825372004-05-28T22:46:00.000-07:002004-05-28T22:48:04.246-07:00
And for my 200th post I will tell a tale. A tale that many of you have heard, but it scarcely seems real. Aye, even to this day, I can hardly believe that it happened to me. Gather around, lads and lasses, as I begin my yarn...The summer of 2003 it was, and Sean and I had decided to take a trip to the Grand Canyon. We loaded up my mom's Honda Accord (I couldn't afford the Gas it would takeChris Nessnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6164178.post-1085342847343911272004-05-23T12:39:00.000-07:002004-05-23T22:13:53.926-07:00He had his daughter, that's all that mattered.
He would give up his shop for her. The shop that he had worked his whole life to build up. He had never remarried, rarely dated. He focused all of his efforts on her. It was the only thing he knew.
He had loved her mother, but she had left. He spent his days sifting through his life, hoping his daughter was happy. He knew she loved him, but was it Chris Nessnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6164178.post-1085246845776592282004-05-22T10:27:00.000-07:002004-05-22T10:27:25.776-07:00Then someone fell down, landing with a thud in the wet earth.
Spinning around, I saw Allan, laying there, facedown. Blood flowed
with rain, washing back to mother earth. The light faded from his eyes
as he stared into mine. There was no pain, just acceptance. I flashed
my careful eyes over the damp walls of the jungle that surrounded us.
It was just like the other times, I couldn't see another Chris Nessnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6164178.post-1078688322048884772004-03-09T17:12:00.000-08:002004-03-09T17:16:34.373-08:00No one knows her. She stays shadowed, never brought forth. She shies away from the light, wary of the blinding brightness. Wanting, yearning for that light.
Whispers of 'that girl' float around her head. No one sees her standing there. Will she let the world in? Will the world let her in?
She wants to scream out "HERE I AM", but the fear grips her again. Shaking, she steps back, further into Chris Nessnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6164178.post-1075404881980517762004-01-29T11:34:00.000-08:002004-01-29T11:36:54.030-08:00This little gem was created in American Government.
When he sat back and looked at it, he saw what he wanted. He knew all of the things that he needed to do were questionable, would she say yes? Or was she thinking like he was. He knew that it was there, the chemistry. Of course, he had felt that before, and had been wrong. Would he pursue? After all, he knew she would stay his friend, but he Chris Nessnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6164178.post-1070944111845145002003-12-08T20:28:00.000-08:002003-12-08T20:28:43.580-08:00In response to the question:
When you are with your love, what goes through your head?
The thoughts of a beautiful future with her. The love we share, all comes out when we hold each other, in those moments before the goodbye. We stay there, seemingly forever, lost within. Within ourselves, each other, us. Warmth spreads, the world slips away. No one else exists, there is only us. We never want Chris Nessnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6164178.post-1070834527101549532003-12-07T14:02:00.000-08:002003-12-07T14:02:18.873-08:00Coffee shop writings.
Then she called. he picked up,angry at what she had done, but willing to make ammends. Why did they fight so much? They loved each other,that love that comes from years of a close relationship. They knew what the other was thinking. They spent hours, lost in each others arms, talking kissing, living. How they missed those times. The times before he moved on. Or tried to.
Chris Nessnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6164178.post-1070834495280428432003-12-07T14:01:00.000-08:002003-12-07T14:01:47.060-08:00Written at a coffee shop/diner on elle's palm zire...
DAMN! The lady was there again. On the corner. He wanted to talk to her. She was gorgeous. Long red hair and beautiful legs. He could not pursue her. Heartbroken, he recalled Her. The girl of his dreams. The one he needed, needed so much it hurt sometimes. She was everytthing he ever wanted, everything he needed. Smart, beautiful, sociable,Chris Nessnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6164178.post-1070507044243793492003-12-03T19:04:00.000-08:002003-12-03T19:04:15.033-08:00Pain - Suffering
Christa, how can I do this to you? How can I let myself keep this up? Please pray for me, for us to find a way to let me control this terrible rage. Maybe I need to see a Dr. Its like Accutane all over again. Times ten. You mean so much to me. We’ve been through so much. The pain, the anger, the happiness, its all archived in my mind. Then I go out and start more pain, stir up Chris Nessnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6164178.post-1070506948581836752003-12-03T19:02:00.000-08:002003-12-03T19:02:39.410-08:00Total crap! it was gonna be good, but I lost my train of thought. Toot
“The Frekes wont quit!” he said as he dove through the door.
“What do you mean? I thought we fixed that problem.”
“I guess not. Its just a good thing they can’t aim worth a shit.”
“Well,” I pause, unable to come up with something that might help; “yeah.”
My brother and I were home again. After moving out here, we got Chris Nessnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6164178.post-1070506779128725222003-12-03T18:59:00.001-08:002003-12-03T18:59:49.130-08:00This is junk.
He spent the days in the sun. enjoying the sea breezes that tossed his hair about. Never minding the hard labor that he put forth to make the ends meet. Day after day he would head out to the marinas, taking his ‘tools’. All day he would spend out there, on those toys, scrubbing, rinsing, polishing. Looking at what he had, he was happy. He had a home, he had a car, he even had a Chris Nessnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6164178.post-1070506747897262422003-12-03T18:59:00.000-08:002003-12-03T18:59:17.913-08:00(c) Chris NChris Nessnoreply@blogger.com