Stereotypes

This is acually a play I acually wrote for ADV. Drama but feel free to leave a  comment or suggestions. thanx =]

Stereotypes

Devan:  It’s happening again! She all over me!

Felicia: Who? Maria Jose?

Devan: Yes, Maria Jose! She’s so stubborn! You know what she tried to do today? Kiss             me! (Felicia giggles). It’s not funny!

Felicia: You can’t teach an old dog new trick. She’s used to getting every guy she wants, it’s hard for her to let you go. She thinks she has what it takes to make you             straight.

Devan: Ewww, no thanks. Why doesn’t she hit on Jerry, he’s gay too.

Felicia: Because he’s gay, gay. (Laughs) You’re just gay.

Devan: See that’s the problem. People stereotype gay boys to be all wannabe girls that       move their hips like this when they walk (he does the walk). Omg! I think I just       broke my nail! (more…)

What’s so Funny?

What’s so funny?

It’s a question asked when one doesn’t get the joke.

At least for a man with no sense of the actual world around him, his own personal thoughts drowned him.

So caught up in his own personal love frenzy, bathing in his self indulgence.

Lives life through a screen and every day dives deeper into the things that make him scream, when awake in the day he feels as a raining king.

But when his head hits the pillow all the dreams and aspirations willow, falling deeper down the rabbit hole of what is but humanity dished on a silver platter, is his life just chatter?

I see a man do nothing, yet claims everything. I see a man receive in a time of need, then only ask for more

I’ve seen women give in and cheat over and over again, I’ve seen men break hearts from across countries wide spread apart, I’ve seen men piss on art and praise a life of a subatomic plague of self praise. (more…)

REALIZATION OF LOVE

A good friend of mine, I’ll call her kuheli, stopped by one day for a cup of coffee, and sure enough, before we knew it, we were deeply involved in a conversation, discussing the “ right and wrong” ways of being in a relationship. After all, I was writing a book about it, wasn’t I?

“So often, when we are absolutely convinced we are right, we are not that right at all,” I said.

“Really?” Kuheli raised her eyebrows.

My friend is an open-minded woman. She is always eager to learn, always ready to hear a different perspective. Her relationship of two years had recently ended, and thought she was okay with it by then, the wounds had not yet fully healed. The memories of fights with her ex-fiancee were still fresh. She would relive them again and again in her mind wondering if there was something she could have done differently. “Was there another way?” she’d ask herself, arriving each time at the same answer. No. she had been right. She had handled it correctly. She was making sure her needs were met, and no, she wasn’t selfish and unreasonable. It was her boyfriend who had been stubborn and childish, while she was simply respecting.

“So what you are saying is when we are sure we are right, we are actually wrong?” she asked. (more…)

Man of Happiness

Man of happiness

Morgan sat in front of the Safeway for an hour before her mother called. Her Support our Troops sign still stood and her donation box was half-full. Pure devious genius, that’s how her father described it when he pulled her closer to whisper the idea, his breath moistening her lobe.

She brushed her hair back behind an ear and smiled as a smirking man placed a can of Green Giant, cream-style corn in her box.

He stared from behind a set of dim blue eyes. His lips quivered as if he wanted to say something.

She looked away and raised an eyebrow, leaving the smile on her face to be polite, but praying he didn’t ask for her number. The guy puffed a disappointed laugh through his nose before he walked off into the parking lot.

Her smile faded to a frown as the man left, and she picked up the can of food. Ugh, I hate cream corn. Couldn’t he give something better?

She tossed the corn back in her box and it clonked against another metal can. She took out her cell phone to check the time, but just holding the device caused her mother’s sobbing words to echo in her head. (more…)

Every Day

Every day I look upon the sea of people in my life

Only for my eyes to betray what I know I should see

I try to guess and hope for God’s best,

but sometimes His truth escapes me.

Every day I look upon the sea of people in my life

Paddl’n' and swayin’ in this old wooden dinghy

Waiting for God to shake me from my trance

So that I may leap and stand on His raging sea.

Every day I look upon the sea of people in my life

And doubt that God could love people like us

I am constantly reminded that if I were my Lord

This doubting world would drive me nuts.

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