Connor-Spade

He likes to go to the beach in the spring. When it's not too warm yet, so there aren't any children running around in the water, yelling and having fun. Not to imply that he doesn't like fun, he just doesn't like watching others frolic and scream and be merry. There is a time and a place for that, and when you live on the west coast of B.C. during the spring and at the beach is neither the time nor the place for such things. "How could you have fun here on a day like this?" They'd say "Gloomy days are meant to be spent indoors," and maybe they were right. But not to him. For him, it's perfect. He likes looking at the grey skies against the bl

        June eighth, 2011. By far the best and worst day of my life. It was Friday and I was anxious for the weekend, as I'm sure most tenth grade students are. This weekend though, it was sure to be amazing. After school that day, it was nice. Probably 20 degrees Celsius with a cooling zephyr, so I decided to bike home. As I was leaving the school, it was as if the students had never seen sunlight before. And through the sea of frolicking teenagers I spotted Lena Vert. The reason my weekend was sure to be so wonderful. Her hair was black with some blue at the bangs and her unique ability to be sexy if she wanted and cute if she didn't mixe

 "Mr. Axtell!" Jason Axtell lifted his head after resting at his seat, his name menacing from the mouth of his teacher. Jason's appearance directly reflected  his personality. He was wearing a chaotic mix of Goodwill bargains and military wear. Pants slightly too big, but held up by a red and black striped tie laced through the belt loops. He was of average weight and height for 17, but he was all muscle. Hair cut in layers and bleached from jet black to white at the tips. Due to straightening every day, it was hard to maintain, but nobody would refute the fact that he was good looking. "Mr. Logan?" Mr. Logan was his science teach

There you are again Just wallowing You say the same thing every time Every time someone asks you what you're going to do with  your life "Tomorrow is too complicated." You know what? It always has been and always will be People like you chose to give up In fact, you chose not to choose Because you never make the right choice It's too much of a gamble so you cashed in your chips And quit while you're behind. And the next day someone asks you "What's your favorite memory?" And it's the same kind of answer "Yesterday has passed. It cannot shape who I am" Too many dark memories. They cloud your judgement And these clo

Let me guess, This is your life: "Good morning world!" You start every day like this Usually with a bit of "It's great to be alive" But not aloud The last part you say in your head Because everybody else knows They know the difference between living and being alive But they won't tell you that Because they also know You won't accept it You are too busy worrying about other people's problems But you know what? They're looking out for you too They want your masterpiece to be for you So they made you a 'Tomorrow' You don't have it yet But that's okay 'Cause it's not finished But when it is you'll be ready You'll accept it b

Show me what you're made of You may say you cannot choose who you are, but you are nothing if not the sum of your choices And you chose to take the tools it takes to build a life and make yourself something labelled 'Yesterday' Hoping and praying that someone comes by and says "Congratulations on the master piece" But, you're just a five year old playing with lego blocks saying "When I grow up I'm going to be an architect and I'm going to build your house and make you happy" But, you know what you make? You make eight dollars an hour You make me want more because you work for a profit You know what I make? I make drinks with the

Alone, I tread the darkness Eternally frightened by the dark abyss of the unknown Too afraid of the wrong company I survive with none In lieu of living alongside those to whom I feel no compasion I chose to die with nothing but memories of those who could have been Could have been loved Could have loved me I came to regret the decisions I have made Only now do I realize that the certainty of having nothing and no one Outweighs the risk of not being wanted, loved, remembered But I guess it's too late now