Ian’s secret legacy, Part 2.

“Nice job, Steve,” Ron sighed. “You just demolished the bedroom and there’s no box in sight. What is this, some kind of joke?”

“I swear, there is a box hidden here somewhere,” Steve countered before he was consumed by a sudden, illuminating thought. After a lengthy pause, he announced, “I think I know where it is.”

“Where?” Ron asked.

Steve pointed at the closet. “In there.”

“Oh great, here we go with more demolition,” Karen complained as Steve opened the closet door in preparation for tearing down the walls inside. Once again the crowbar flew into action, tearing out large chunks of wall before piling them on the already large pile of drywall on the floor. After a few minutes of vicious hammering and ripping, the noise suddenly stopped.

“I found it.”

Steve emerged from the closet holding a small jewelry box held shut by a snap hinge. He handed it to Ron, who eyed it skeptically.

“I’d like you to do the honors,” Steve said, “I think it’s fitting for you, Ian’s parents, to unseal his legacy.”

“Very well.”

Ron gripped the jewelry box and struggled to unsnap the rusty hinge that held it shut. Suddenly the lid flew open as a giant spring loaded snake jumped out, filling Ian’s parents with terror. As they stood in place screaming, Steve fled the room, not out of fear but in satisfaction that he had at last fulfilled Ian’s secret legacy – to prank parents and mess up his old bedroom one last time.

The End

The world’s most relaxing song.

If you’re looking for something that will really, really relax you, look no farther than the Mindfulness Pack on the archive.org website. It has four tasty tracks that mix soothing synthesizer music and binaural beats to create a truly unique meditative experience. There are tracks for quick meditation, endorphin release and lucid healing, but the real find here is the fourth and final track entitled “The World’s Most Relaxing Song”, a 9-minute track that will truly immerse you into the deepest relaxation you’ll ever feel. I’ve yet to try out the other tracks, but if it can relax me to the point of pure calm, then I’d expect the other tracks to work wonders as well. This album is a real find.

Ziplining at Icy Strait Point.

Icy Strait Point, Hoonah, Alaska.

The single most memorable excursion on my vacation to Alaska was going ziplining at Icy Strait Point. This was my first time on such a ride and I was a little nervous but at the same time was excited about it.

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Should I or shouldn’t I?

The excursion began with a bus ride through the neighboring city of Hoonah, a seaside community small enough where everyone knows each other. It has its own post office, school and a general store whose motto is “If we don’t have it, you don’t need it.” Then the bus began its bumpy climb up the mountain on one dirt road after another. At least the driver had enough of a sense of humor to announce that everyone was about to receive a complimentary back massage. Finally, the bus reached the top of the mountain, and from there it was a short walk down a steep trail before I arrived at the zipline. The mountain was high enough for me not to see the ground without the clouds in the way.

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Abandon all hope ye who enter here.

The ride has 6 cables to accommodate 6 riders at a time. After the riders are strapped into the specialized chairs and given safety instructions, they are sent plummeting along the side of the mountain, descending 1,330 feet with speeds up to 60 miles per hour before the ride ends less than two minutes later.

But what was it like? Not scary in the least, not by my standards. Although the ride is fast, the descent is smooth and the view spectacular. At once you can feel what it’s like to be a bird in flight high above the trees. I could use my arms to adjust my view of the surrounding area but it felt wonderful to be alive and so free as I have never felt before. Never mind that it was cold and rainy, never mind that I got rain on my goggles, never mind that I got wet, this was truly a thrill of a lifetime. I’d do it all over again, rain or shine.

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Woot.

Incident at the border.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we are now arriving at the Candanian border. Please have your passports and paperwork ready.”

All the passengers aboard the tour bus retrieved the requested items from their purses and wallets, myself included. I gazed out the window and saw the customs and immigration building underneath the Candanian flag flying in the breeze. I was hoping this part of my vacation would go smoothly.

The bus coasted to a stop as the driver announced, “Ladies and gentlemen, please gather your belongings and meet the customs officers inside the building. This shouldn’t take long.”

Everyone unboarded the bus and made their way inside the building where they formed a line to present their passports to the customs officers. The line moved swiftly as the officers glanced at the passports and paperwork and welcomed the tourists to Candana. Maybe this won’t go so badly after all.

Then it was my turn to go to an available customs officer. He greeted me warmly as he examined my passport. Suddenly the smile on his face vanished as his eyes widened with shock. “Come with me, sir,” the officer ordered as he led me to a back room where five officers surrounded me and immediately began shoving me around.

“Wait, wait!” I yelled.”Why are you shoving me around?”

“You are from Loridfa, correct?”

“Yes, that’s where I live.”

“And that’s where tourists from Candana go for the winter, correct?”

“Yeah, so?”

“On the morning of November 15th of last year, you were driving on the interstate when you swerved and cut off a driver who happened to be a tourist from Candana. An attack on one is an attack on all! It’s payback time, beeyotch!”

And so the shoving continued, much to the chagrin of the other tourists who seemed to know the reason for the delay.

Dryekoff.

I glanced at the clock and groaned.

9:30.

Time for bed.

I don’t want to go to bed.

The usual arguing with my inner self.

I slowly strolled to my bedroom, continuing this silent arguing as I turned off the lights in the hallway before entering my bedroom. To get to my bed I had to squeeze past the large speakers, the amplifiers, drum kit and four guys that stood in my way near the middle of the bedroom.

Yes, there was a rock band in my bedroom.

“Going to sleep, dude?” asked the drummer.

“Yes,” I replied, “and I would very much appreciate a quiet night for once so I can sleep.”

“But we gotta practice!” complained the guitarist.

“Look, you guys had all day to practice!” I shot back. “Why do it now when I have to sleep? I gotta be up early!”

The four guys stood silently as if my words finally got to them. Then slowly, one by one, the four guys left my bedroom, grumbling.

Finally.

I turned off the lights and rested my head on the pillow. Just when I felt myself drift away to sleep, the four guys dashed back into my bedroom, turned on the amps and let loose with a deafening jam that shook me awake.

“Waugh!” I screamed as I sat up. Abruptly the band stopped playing and stared at me with mischievous grins.

“So, what do you think?” asked the bassist.

“I think it’s too late!” I yelled. “Can’t you guys wait until morning when I’m not here?”

“But we’re busy in the morning!” the singer yelled back.

“DOING WHAT?”

“SLEEPING!” the four guys yelled.

“GET OUT!” I screamed. “ALL OF YOU!”

“But-”

“NO BUTS! OUT!” I screamed. Abruptly the band quickly left my bedroom and I closed the door behind them. For good measure I locked it, too.

Finally.

I collapsed on my bed and a few minutes later felt myself beginning to drift away to sleep. Suddenly the door was kicked open as the band rushed back into my bedroom and began jamming with the volume on full blast. Once again I sat up and screamed at them to stop and they did, only to resume playing when I was nearly asleep.

And this went on all night.

Needless to say I didn’t get much sleep, no thanks to these guys who call themselves Dryekoff.

The band name is a play on the words “dry cough”, the most annoying part of getting sick. Long after the other symptoms have cleared, the dry cough lingers, staying quiet during the day but getting worse at night, especially when you’re trying to sleep.

And now you know the rest of the story.

The day after Halloween.

It’s the day after Halloween
The time is right
To buy stuff on clearance
And go out tonight
With my scary mask on
As I go door to door
Starting a trend
No one’s heard of before
Then I get in the car
And drive around town
To look at decorations
Not yet taken down
While I’m at it
I think I’ll go browse
And scream my way
Through an old haunted house
Just when I see one
I mumble and pout
The house is still there
But the props are all out
There goes my night
And my evening of fear
Time to go home
And then plan for next year

My amazing mind.

[An entry from my old journal book, presented here unaltered, unabridged and uncensored.]

An article in Woman’s Weekly said that 1 in 6 Americans have a 6th sense – psychic senses. I have this sense as well as ESP. Here are some incidents to prove it. They are not in order, but categorized for easy reference.

  • The earliest known experience I know of was the time I was a bagboy at Publix. I was bagging groceries when I started visualizing a little boy’s face. A few seconds later, I saw the same boy enter the store.
  • Another time I was working, I wanted to get a piece of bubblegum. So I went over to the gum machine and put the dime in, and visualized a pink gumball that would come out. It did.
  • My abilities are linked with radio waves, which controls my mind. I was cleaning my room when I started thinking of a tune called “Causing A Commotion”. I went over to the radio and turned it on, and heard the same tune.
  • More recently, the radio experience came back to me. This time I was expecting it. I asked myself, “What song is on right now?” Song titles flashed through my mind until I decided on “One More Try” by George Michael. I was right.
  • My first experience in ESP took place when I was driving to jogging class. I stopped at an intersection behind a huge truck who was blocking the traffic light. After a while my foot headed for the gas pedal. The light had changed green the very second it happened.
  • I was looking through TIME MAGAZINE when I saw the People section, a department dedicated to newsmakers. On the page, I saw a picture of a girl. I was immediately thinking of a tune called “I Think We’re Alone Now” by Tiffany. The second I looked at the caption, the picture was indeed of Tiffany.
  • June 17, 1988. When I stopped by K-mart to pick up my check, I had a shocking experience about what someone was going to say. As I was parking my car, I said aloud, in a feminine voice, “The checks will be in at 4 o’clock.” I was right about the time!

 

A freewriting experiment.

I’m going to try something different with this post. Instead of agonizing over what to write about, I’m just going to type away and stop only when I’ve reached the 500-word limit. Well, WordPress doesn’t have a limit on the number of words in a post, but 500 words should be enough for a few minutes’ worth of reading anyway.

I still don’t know what to write about but already I’m on the second paragraph, so things seem to be going according to plan. I could write about my job but I really don’t want to turn this blog into a diary. Rather, I want my blog to serve as a digest of my literary creations, be it a poem or a short story. Not do I want to express any political opinions, although I certainly have strong feelings about the state of things in Washington right now, but I won’t go there either. Again, the strong emphasis is on my poetry, stories and miscellaneous thoughts.

Wow, this is going better than I thought. Already on the third paragraph and the words just keep flowing. I could write about the weather or my plans for the day but for now I want to cast all those boring thoughts aside and just write as fast as my fingers can type. The funny thing is, that when I started this post, I had no idea what I was going to write about but a few minutes later the post is filling up nicely.

When I was in high school, I took creative writing as an elective course as I thought I’d have some fun with it. I’ve always enjoyed writing as a way of expressing my thoughts and to let out some steam at the same time. One of the things I learned in class was freewriting in which I just pick up my pen and write whatever comes to mind, and along the way, ideas start popping up and my case of writer’s block is instantly solved.

Lately I’ve been short on ideas for what to write about in this blog so it was time for me to do a freewriting experiment to keep things going. I just renewed my domain for another year and if I am to get my money’s worth I need to keep it updated with fresh stories and thoughts. There will certainly be more of that along the way.

Or perhaps I could go through the 17 saved drafts I have and see what I can do to finish those and get those posted for the world to see. Too often I feel I’m too busy to just sit down and write for a few minutes, let alone work on those drafts to completion. There;s been too much on my mind lately with work and money matters, but I cling to the hope that I could possibly utilize my writing talents to ease my financial woes a bit.

And I still have those unfinished novels I’d like to get published someday and get my name up there with the literary greats. I need only the time to work on them and get them submitted.

Well, I’ve exceeded the 500 word limit and looking back, I think I have another fine post for the world to read. There were times when I paused to ponder my next sentence but other than that the words came out virtually nonstop.

This concludes my freewriting experiment. That wasn’t so bad, was it?

Your Shadow and you.

While reading the ground-breaking book The Tools, I had a rare spark of creativity while reading the chapter on the tool that uses my Shadow to boost my self-confidence. According to the book, my Shadow is a physical manifestation of all my negative traits that emerge whenever I talk with someone whom I find difficult or intimidating. These traits can also emerge whenever I find myself speaking to an audience. The book has me focusing not on these people but on my Shadow to channel its presence so we both work together instead of against each other.

And when me and my Shadow both drink a bottle of Diet Coke, my burps will come out twice as loud.