Today,

I fell upon another grenade in the great thresh-hold of life.  The minimum wage job these days is a heart-attack waiting to happen.  Why can't people see that standing on the side lines of life, and watching as everyone else plays the game is no way to win.  More importantly no way to make a living.  Some can say, they don't mind, or let it go, but can they honestly say they are happy grudgingly trotting along on the path of life?

I on the other hand can't stand it! It makes me want to scream! Sometimes I wonder what life for us animals would be like if their was no money involved.

On a similar note, quitting your crap job for just another crap job is no way to live.  Not for me any way.  So, I ask myself and anyone who reads this how do you survive?  How do you find the job that will get you to where you have to go, but more importantly where you want to go?

These days most jobs want you to show, or even more act as if you are planning to stay with the company for a good long time.  They want you to slave away and be ready on their beck and call.  If anyone is like me, they know this is humanly impossible to do when all you want is a respect and appreciation.  This seems only possible by first putting up with all the bull.  Well I ask you yet another question.  Do you put up with bull from your significant other?  If you answered no, then you know what I am talking about.

 If anyone has an opinion on this please share.

Write Away!

Today,

I decided I wanted to join a Writer's Workshop.  The thing is there are none.  Not in Kingston, NY anyway.  If anyone wants to, or knows of a Workshop that's write for me please let me know.

I want to start a club.  Where writers no older then 30 can come and share their stories, poems, or any bits of writing they have. I am interested in publishing my own work eventually, but first I'd like to see if it is any good.

Here is an example of my writing below.  Nothing too exciting, but still has potential.

Hero’s and Pizza

“Hero’s all the way!’  Terence shouted enthusiastically.

“No way man.  Pizza is the way to go.”  Harold shook his head.

This debate had been going on since the two buddies had gotten into the Italian restaurant.  This was their favorite place to go, and almost every single time they went they would have the same disagreement.

The end of it would always be the same.  Terence would order the Hero’s to prove to Harold it had more meat, and Harold would order the Pizza to prove it had more cheese. 

Then after both finishing their food, and paying the bill they would leave the restaurant bragging about how delicious their meals were and then as soon as they would walk out the door their bickering would end.  Only to start up again, and only when they returned to the restaurant.  This day however, was different.  This day their argument would end.

 They could hear the screams as the exited the restaurant.

“Help! Help!”  A woman was crying at the top of her lungs.

Smoke was escalating from a silver car in the in the parking lot.

 Harold was the first to notice the staggering man to come out of the smoke and rushed over to help him.

He was bleeding pretty badly, and Harold helped him towards the restaurant.

Terence had helped the shouting lady calm down.  Which only resulted in her passing out. 

People started rushing out of the restaurant. They were all gasping and pointing at the smoking car.

“Call 9-1-1!” Terence shouted to one of the Mexican places employees.

“My daughter I couldn’t get her out, I couldn’t get her out.”  The bleeding father cried to Terence.

“I’ll get her.” Terence assured the father as he sat him down next to his unconscious wife. 

Terence glanced at Harold with a fearful look.  Harold noticed and responded with a reassuring smile.  Then headed back into the smoke.

The smoke enveloped him at once.  He took the button up shirt off his back and wrapped it around his mouth and nose.  He could barley see, but he could make out a vague outline of the car ahead.  He reached out his hands until he felt the car door, and then the handle.  He opened it up and immediately a cloud smoke filled his lungs.  He felt the baby’s car seat, and got her out of the car.  He covered her face her face with his shirt, and started running out of the smoke.

Terence could hear the sirens getting closer, and nervously anticipated to see his friend come out of the smoke.

But his friend was nowhere to be seen.  Then as small figure of his friend Harold grew closer, and a smile grew on his face.  The smile quickly disappeared, and turned to a widen hole of doom with one loud boom.

Flames engulfed the smoke and car. 

“Noooooooo!”  The father shouted from the top of his lungs.

When the firemen arrived and the flames had been distinguished Terence ran into the clearing smoke to find his friend.

He knew there was no chance of him surviving no chance of even anything left of his long time friend, but his instincts overcame him and he needed to find Harold.

The chartered body of his friend lay on his stomach.  His skin was red and black.  “No, no, no!”  Terence cried as he turned his friend over.  Lying under him was the smoky faced girl he had saved. 

A team of Firemen rushed over and checked her pulse. “She’s still alive!  Get an air mask on her now!”  One of them shouted.

Terence still starred at his burnt friend.  Then he began to tear up.

“Hero’s.”  Harold whispered.

“What?”  Terence could have sworn he just heard Harold say something. “What did you say?  Harold!”  He shouted.

“Hero’s are the way to go.”  He could barley laugh, or smile, but he did just the same.

“Oh man.”  Terence laughed.

Harold’s eyes closed, and Terence looked at his best friend for a few more minutes before the Medics took him away. 

Terence didn’t smile because he was happy his friend was gone.  He didn’t smile because he had been right the whole time about Hero’s.  He smiled because his friend had gone out in a hot raging ball fire.  He had gone out like a Hero.