To my future wife: One day, we'll be sitting in a restaurant with some friends over coffee and they'll ask us, "How long have you two been together?" And on that day, or any other day we're asked that question, I promise I'll never say "Too long." Because I've lived too long without you.

I don't want to be forgotten, but I don't want to be remebered this way I don't want to be forsaken, but I can't find the will to stay I don't want this bondage, but I just can't get far enough away Freedom, my soul longs for sweet freedom My eyes need this holiness But my sin is my kingdom Release me Lord from myself Release me Lord from my sin I release me Lord to you again You don't want this life for me You can't keep this life from me I won't let you set me free Since the beginning of time We can't be torn in three But your grace sets my feet from earth Your prize for this race, rebirth And now my eyes can see The life that you offer me And.. Freedom

the urge to I saw "Murder In The Wings" today. It's play put on by the local Christian school. I really enjoyed it. And although it sounds like a scary, it was a comedy and I laughed way out loud a few times. Watching the play again makes me want get right back into theater. I want to get up on that stage and rock the planet! I love the hot lights beaming down, the sound of the audience breathing, and the rush of live theater. Here's the tragic part, I don't have the time!! In fact, I'm going to be looking for a second job. My current job can't support me while I'm living on my own. So sad! Hopefully I'll be able to land something like hosting at another resturant. The best of the best would be if I could waiter. Waiter? Waitering.. if I could be waitering? How do you use that word properly... anyway. I'd like to start doing something creative again. Recently, I decided stuff looked much cooler if you burnt the edges of whatever it was. And I was right, they do! I got a new haircut. A bold new step for mekind. -BRiAN

I blinked as a drop of sweat blurred my vision. The sound of the officers voice still was ringing in my ears. My head was swimming. All my sense were muddled. The bitter smell of blood in my nostrils, Steven's wrinkled and writhing face danced in my vision and the taste of warm, salty sweat filled my mouth. "I didn't mean for this to happen." Steven said, as he sat down at the end of table. "I mean, everything just seems so impossible. School is so hard and my Dad is always on my case!" "Steven, please... listen to me, the police are here now, why don't you just let us go and everything will be ok." Mr. Patterson said. "Come on, Steve, he's right. You're right man, everything does seem impossible. But if you just set that thing down and let us walk out the door it'll be ok. No one has to get hurt. I'll even help you with your school stuff." I said, leaning forward. Steven looked up at me, I could tell he was tired. His eyes stared blankly into mine. His face a mix of tears and sweat. "I just don't think I can do this. There's no way man. It's true, I'll never amount to anything. After today nothing will be the same, just worse." Steven took a deep breath and ran his fingers through his hair. "Maybe you're right, though. All I need is a little bit of help, right? Some tutoring or something. I could get another home, you know? A nice home, bro.. Things could be better for me." "Steven..." the megaphone blasted from the outside. Steven jerked up and covered his ears. His eyes went wild. "Steven, please listen to me. There is no way you're getting out of the cafeteria. You need to let the people inside go. Just set down your weapon and we'll talk this over. We can talk this out." It clicked off again, the last few words echoing in the room. The gun leapt around in Stevens hand. He cocked it back, loading a round. Standing, he pointed it at Mr. Patterson. "Steven no!" I shouted and began to stand. Steven grunted and shoved me back into my seat. "Don't move, Dave! Just sit there." He turned his head toward the cafeteria doors, still pointing the gun at Mr. Patterson. "No way, man! I'm not coming out of here! I'm tired of all of this! Don't tell me what I can and can't do!! This is the last time I get pushed over or ran around! You hear me?!" Steven snapped his head back to Mr. Patterson. His face twisted as he curled back his lips and squinted his eyes. Shaking, he stood there staring at Mr. Patterson. It was like everything just stopped. I could hear the sirens and people murmuring and crying outside. Faint, distant, in the back of my mind. The lights around me seemed to wash out. My hands felt cold on the bumpy, orange plastic chair. Like a bug on a windshield I was unable to let go of my chair. I looked at Mr. Patterson. His face was all scrunched up as Steven aimed straight at his head. His hands were in front of his face like a child about to be doused in water. He fell backwards in his chair. His hands flapped as they landed on the floor. I couldn't hear anything, I could only see his head slam back onto the hard white and green tile floor. The shell casing fall and bounce like a gymnast on a tumbling mat. His blood started to seep into his jacket and hair. I looked up at Steven crying as he held the gun to his side. The barrel smoked and caressed his arm. Reality hit me. The doors of the cafeteria flew open as the SWAT team burst in the room. They stopped and crouched at the entrance, little red lights danced on Stevens back. "Drop the gun and put your hands on your head! Do it now! Drop that gun right now!" They're muffled voices shouted from behind their masks. I dropped to the floor and looked up. Steven just stood there, facing the wall, not moving. They continued to shout orders at him until he began to turn around. He turned slower than I have ever seen anyone turn. His arms swung at his sides and his head hung down. "Now set the gun down! Just put it on the floor and put your hands on your head." Steven looked up at the officers. He lifted the gun to his head and pulled the trigger. I watched his legs buckle and his body drop next to mine as I screamed out. Another shell casing landed with a clink. The smoke from the gun drifted into my face as I stared into the eyes of my friend who couldn't take it anymore. The end.

I wish your air....... breathe me

I WENT TO UNIVERSAL STUDIOS AND A DODGERS GAME! Pictures coming soon!

i love the fashion industry     More t-shirt irony.I just turned on COPS. I'm welcomed to the show with the shot of a big red ghetto car. I hear dogs barking, there are about six cops around with attack dogs. "Get out of the car." the cop says.     A woman steps out with grey shorts and socks. She's wearing a Harvard shirt. A HARVARD SHIRT. HAR.....VARD. Apparently there was a robbery, she was driving. Something about a crack house. A HARDVARD SHIRT. Bring it on, t-shirt makers of the world! -BRiAN