School

I’m not even gonna call this a random writing.  I guess it technically is… but whatever.

School starts in 4 days, and I’m not ready for summer to be over yet.

I guess I’ll be able to enjoy the relaxed first week… and seeing my friends again… and the bizarre things us middle-schoolers start to talk about… and the novelty of being a seventh grader… (Yow… that’s hard to believe.  I still feel like a small sixth grader…)

But I’ll get lots of homework.  And I’m sure that Algebra is gonna have me either put to sleep, because my brain doesn’t want to think about it, or up all night, because I have to think about it, because homework.  Ugh.  Not ready for that.  Oh man, don’t y’all remember the good ol’ days when all we had to do was a small book report on this or that?  Good times…

And then there’s projects.  I know I won’t fail, that I’ll figure it out… but that doesn’t make it any less stressful.

And, of course, P.E.  Relatively not that bad, but there’s something to be said for not doing the FitnessGram tests.  Or dancing to Just Dance videos on YouTube.  Or being sent outside to run the track over and over again.

 

But sometimes it’s worth it to go to school.  I mean, sometimes there are field trips.  Or movies.  Last year, we watched the Polar ExpressMoanaHidden Figures, and Boss Baby in math class.  And then there are subs.  The awesome subs—like, one time, I got a World Cultures sub who sat us down, and then talked about college football and student loans.  Sometimes a student would say something, but we literally just spent an hour and forty-five minutes doing nothing.  It was great.  And it was at the end of the day so everyone could just sit back and relax.

Then there are the okay-but-not-the-greatest-sub-ever subs.   Last year I got another World Cultures sub who was like, “Okay, who wants Pringles?”  Every hand shot up.  The sub walked around the room and gave each anticipating child one pringle.  Only one.  I’m not sure–and I can’t say this for everybody–what I was expecting, but one pringle sure wasn’t it.  Still, though, one takes a pringle when one can.

 

Well… at least I got all my summer homework done.  (Yes, my school gave out summer homework.  I… it… I… sighhh)  Anyway, that’s something, and it’s not like I have a choice to go to school, so I guess I’ll just have to make the best of it.

Movie A Series of Haikus

In fifteen minutes

Only fifteen minutes more…

Fifteen too many


I’m watching ads, pics…

Kinda boring, tbh

Oh well… I will deal.


I wish I’d brought cards.

Alas, I left them at home.

Could’ve played “Go Fish”.


Instead, I write these.

Haikus inspired from bored.

(That phrasing is weird).


Running out of stuff.

Warning: subject matter low.

I hope it starts soon.


Just four minutes left.

And counting, of course. (tick, tock)

And now only two.


It is almost time.

This waiting is killing me.

JK. I’m (near) fine.

Tylerian, house of Tryan.

My name is Tylerian, and I am an alv.  Not an elv.  Not an elf.  An alv.

 

I have been told that you humans aren’t familiar with the term.  An alv is a humanoid creature whose most distinguishing features are long, pointed ears, and big, amber eyes.  Alves average about 7’4″, fully grown and in their prime.

Elves are humanoid as well, and also have pointed ears, but they are shorter, and more majykal.  They can create such majyk that elfs and alves cannot.  Alves can make basic majyk, like healing lacerations, but if the lacerations were created by a basilisk, or some other type of enchanted weapon/creature, then we would be out of luck.


Figuratively, of course.  There have only been a few alves in the past eras who have run out of luck.


Elfs are the least dignified of our brethren.  They are small, pudgy, and spend most of their time hibernating.  When they do get up, they make widgets and junk to give to you humans under the supervision of the biggest and happiest of them all– Saint Claus.  This, of course, all happens during the winter.  And then, in the middle of winter, Saint Claus gets all riled up and decides to go on a gift run.


I think he might be high, or mentally impaired in some sort.  You humans have a song called “Grandma Got Run Over By a Reindeer”, I believe?  Yes?  Yeah, that actually happened.  Someone called in a few elves for cleanup, but they didn’t get there in time and… you know the rest.


 

There.  I hope that cleared things up.  If not… try to just avoid trying to classify by species.   Trust me when I say you really, really don’t want to call an alv an elf.

 

Surviving the Zombie Apocalypse… A Random Writing

The shambling figure approached the little girl, eyes devoid of life.  The pupils were somewhere in the back of its head.  Its clothes were in shambles.  It bled from a head wound, and multiple chest injuries, yet it kept moving.

Somehow the little girl had gotten ahold of a gun.  With shaking little arms, she fired away, her pigtails dancing as she literally shook in fear.

Blam, blam, blam!

The figure seized up as each bullet found its mark, but nonetheless kept moving on, towards the little girl.

She hid in doorways, locked gates, kept shooting… it didn’t matter.

She was close to tears.

She tripped… and fell.

The figure was soon upon her.

In what she thought was her last breath, she cried, “Go away!” snf, whimper, “You’re mean!”

The figure stopped, drool dripping onto the girl’s face.  All of a sudden, it burst into tears, and got up.  The last time the little girl saw the figure, it was shuffle-running away, weeping.


 

 

Thanks, guys, for showing up again at my Random Writing.  I just, truth be told, reenacted this with my sister… and, heh, I think you can guess which person was the zombie.

Yeah… So, she played a part in this as well.

I think you know the drill.  My next Random Writing will be at a random time, about a random thing, but not on a random site.

That would be weird.

 

How would I even do that?

 

Yeah.  It’ll be on Sphnx Stories, and I hope that you will come back and read it!

“Parenting” (A Random Writing)

Today I was eating lunch.  Me, my sister, my dad, and my mom.  It was a rather simple lunch: fruits, veggies, and chips in the middle of the table, with hummus to the side for dipping.  I had just had a rather frustrating conversation, although it made sense, about me being on the computer all the time, with my mom, who, unfortunately for me and my sister, knows a lot about how screens and screen time affect people.  So, she limits it a lot.  Depending on your perspective, this could be beneficial, because screens have more of a degenerative effect on us, but… yeah.  Our perspective is a wee bit different.

 

Anyway.

 

She was frustrated that 2/3 of the time I seemed to be on my computer.  She was like, “Is there anything else that you do??”

I responded along the lines of, “Well, I, um.. read, and… uh…”

Not extremely effective, but I was scrambling for an answer.

She said something like, “And also, you and your sister have not been very physically active this summer.  Maybe you could, like, ride your bikes around in the morning, or you could do some weight training/fitness stuff with Dad in the morning.”

I wasn’t very excited about this, but I could deal with it.  Exercising might have been a death sentence for some people, but I am much stronger than lots of kids my age, and I am very physically fit.  If you can get me to start, I will mostly enjoy it, but… it’s hard to start.

This is how that conversation went.  Now, remember it, because it will come up later.

After that conversation was over, I messed around with organizing stuff, because the stuff in question was a mess and driving me crazy.  This is irrelevant.  When lunch was called, I ran upstairs and washed my hands, and then ran downstairs again, to the table.

 

Patience, please, I’m building up to the key point, or punchline, I guess you could call it.

 

Lunch was rather straightforward.  We talked about stuff.  I can’t really remember.  But then Mom brought up to Dad, “Remember how we were talking the other night about getting the kids to work out in the morning with you?”

This was a shocker, but, really, I shouldn’t have been so surprised.

I brought up my hands to my head, and responded with, “You guys are conspiring against us!?”

And then my dad looked at me, smiled, and said, “It’s called parenting.”

 

 

…This post was sorta all over the place.  Oh well

Last night… (a random post)

Last night–oh, by the way, this is a random post–I had the weirdest dream.

It was a back to school dream.  I have had a couple of these.  They always start off the same way.  I think I get them because my stress over the summer homework, namely algebra and english.  It sucks.  I really don’t like summer homework.

But anyway.

It always starts the same way.  I am, somehow, somewhere, in my school.  I don’t know how I got there, not any background information, except for my knowledge of the grounds and teachers.

Then, I realize I am in school.  And I think, Oh, time to turn in the summer homework.  And then I realize, OH SHOOT!  I didn’t finish my summer homework!!  Crudcrudcrudcrud…  And then I relax, because I realize, Hey, it’s okay, it’s just a dream.

From there on, I am usually able to enjoy the dream.

This one, I’m walking to first period algebra 1, and stop outside a classroom where, for some reason, they have two lines, for two different math classes.  I try to enter the one for algebra high school— Y’all please remember, this is a dream with weird dream logic.

Anyway.

I try to enter algebra high school. and these super tall girls are like NOPE this isn’t where you are supposed to be, and so I’m like oh boy, where do I go!?  Oh, and I start carrying my French horn when I try to enter the line.

So, after this, I go away from that classroom, and towards the real algebra 1 classroom.  I get there, and see my neighbors walk in the door, and I think, that makes sense, because one is a year older than me, and one (okay now for some reason, I have déjà vu, writing about this, but… no matter). And one is a year younger than me.  At my school, sometimes sixth graders can take algebra 1, and 7th and 8th graders can take it.  So that kinda made sense.  Except for the fact that my neighbors don’t go to my school.

As I walk into the classroom, I pull off the green link cap I have been wearing, and mess with my hair.

My hair really bothers me, how it looks, and stuff.

I don’t know why I wore a link cap (see below image) to school.

at93akoginsyqla9bmde

All of a sudden, the room’s orientation was different.   I was called to sit down at a stretched desk,  not the same desk where I had thrown down my link hat, but right next to the teacher, who, in fact, was one of the more disliked subs. I remember thinking that this made sense (dream logic) because it was the middle of summer, of course there was a sub– the regular teacher was on vacation.

Class flashed by.  I don’t remember it at all.  But then, at the end of class, I was called up to the front, and the sub was suddenly a different teacher, one people liked a lot more.  I don’t know why this matters, but it happened, so I’m writing it.

I was called up to the front of the room and the teacher announced that she was going to make me pound cake.  And she did, but what she did was more like cementing together already cut pieces of red velvet cake with icing.  For some reason, I took the last pieces myself, and tried to replicate what she was doing.  This was a mistake on my part, because, apparently, I was just supposed to stand up there and watch.  Anyway, I felt bad, because then some other kid wouldn’t get to make one, which, now, awake, doesn’t make any sense, but I swear–it made PERFECT sense in the dream.  So now, I apologized again and again, and I was told that it was okay, it was okay.  Eventually, while stuffing my face with red velvet “pound cake” the teacher, who was suddenly the sub again, said that it was time for the next period.  I locked eyes with my neighbor as she left, which was kinda strange, as I was still stuffing my face with pound cake.

Then I went over to the teacher’s desk, still eating (it was good stuff) and asked what my next class was.  Because, even though everyone else knew what to do, I didn’t have my schedule!  My teacher went through files on her computer trying to find my schedule, even though the files looked like Vacation Bible School posters and the like.

Somewhere in all this, my younger neighbor disappears from class, and then the only person I know is the older neighbor, and the teacher.  I can’t remember of at some point my neighbor texts me or not, which was definitely part of a different dream, but could’ve happened.  I had her phone number, which was strange, because in real life, I don’t.  I don’t think she even has a phone number in real life.  But, hey, dream logic.

We never found my schedule, but it didn’t really matter, because during the search for it,  the dream segued into a dream about nautical firefighters.  They were doing some weird swimming training thing, over and under seaweed and rock formations, worried about a shark, because one dude had a pet otter nearby, and of course that would attract sharks who go for the humans.  Dream logic.  I’m not real sure where I fit in in that, but thinking about it now, I’m all like, Firefighters?  Underwater!?

They weren’t even trying to get anywhere through the water.  I know they were firefighters, because they wore fire fighting suits, in addition to their handy scuba gear, which they wore along with their yellow (!?) firefighting hats (see below)429_cairns-660c-metro-composite-fire-helmet

 

Ugh.  I had really strange dreams last night.

 

 

Anyway, thank you for joining me again in a Random writing!

Another time, sometime random, I will post another random writing, at a random time, about a random subject off the top of my head!

Trae

The solution was so simple.  In fact there were many solutions.

I could take off my shoe and use it as an extension of my reach to push the power button.

I could do the same thing with a hanger.

Or I could try and jump from the armchair, most likely breaking expensive equipment and myself in the process.

 

In the end, I decided to just go with the hangar idea.  It worked, but the TV just showed static and white noise.

Frustrated, I climbed (yes, climbed) up and into the armchair.  I sat.  And I sat some more.  I stared at the TV, as if it would work if I gave it the hairy eyeball long enough.  It took ten minutes, which is a long time to anyone who’s not doing anything, but, in the end, the static intensified, and then lessened.

“Hrm.  Took you long enough,” was the first thing I heard.  A grizzled man had appeared on the TV, and was watching me disapprovingly.  “Do you have any idea how long I had to wait for you to turn on the TV?  Jeez, kid.  You were supposed to have brains,” he said.  He wiped his hand across his brow, and then pinched the bridge of his nose.  He sighed, and then told me to sit tight.  “I’m going to go look through the archives for what I’m supposed to tell you.”

“Ah.  Here we go.

Zrt ZRrt

I am Stevan, your computer.  Don’t look so surprised, Blaise!”

Here I am going to interrupt, and try to explain– I am named Blaise, but I am not the Blaise.  Blaise Pascal was another dude, and I was just named after him.  Personally, I like the name, and I think it sounds pretty cool.  Sorta like Blaze, ya know?  Yeah, so, anyway…

“You have been converging for… what, five years?  Okay then.  Please sit still and focus on this nicely done orientation film.”

I then went on to watch 40 minutes of explanation and history.  Long story short, I was one of the few humans lucky enough to be able to converge.  Converging is the term for bringing one dimension unto another with one’s own spirit.  My spirit, a converger’s spirit, does not belong in my dimension, and yet, because of the fact that Trae, the 2nd dimension’s sister world to Earth, can’t support human life, I was born on Earth.  My spirit would periodically converge on Trae, but since I couldn’t control it, and because I didn’t know of it, it would happen at random times, and I would always converge into my bunker, as it was my default converge location.  This was, in fact, a good thing, because outside my bunker are the reasons that I had a nuclear-apocalyptic-secure-and-armed bunker at all.  Nasty creatures, whom the convergers were made to keep in check, if not destroy.

Unfortunately, they cannot be destroyed, and sometimes they converge on Earth.  That was where I, and the others of my converger generation, came in.  We were supposed to use our powers, and the supplies given to us, to kill them, or send them back.

This sounded awesome.  But I wasn’t told much about the monsters, because, in the words of Stevan, “They would give any kid like you nightmares…”

In a few hours, I converged back on Earth, to find myself still in the corner, still sleepy.  I roused my weary self, and then went off to gain back the time I lost.  The rest of the day was filled with arcade, laser tag, and friends.  It was the last birthday I had that wasn’t filled with nervous glances around.  Essentially, it was the last birthday of my childhood.  In the coming year, I was forced to grow up much faster, mentally, than any kid should be.  It was… akin to a military draft recruit straight out of high school having to throw away  their hopes and dreams out the window.  Except, I was much younger than 18…