Sunday, August 30, 2009

creative writing- 501 words

Perri McCammon
Creative writing

"The root of all evil is essential to my survival". Quote. The root of all evil? Money, of course. Everyone knows that. But why? Why is money evil?
Money, and its many forms. That green, papery object that plagues or abandons wallets by the millisecond, a unit of fire that burns holes in pockets. Tiny books bursting with figures, numbers, and frustration. Our natural resources molded into minute magnetic strips that electronically deplete our bank accounts, once dollar at a time. Metal. Locks. Combinations. Pin numbers. Alarms. Pennies in parking lots; are they lucky? Checkbooks, credit cards, cash and change, so many forms this devil takes. The cowry shells of ancient Africa, barley of Mesopotamia and even bottle caps in that episode of Duck Tales: all of these a form of exchange between entities.
But what is it about money that gives it such a bad reputation? Perhaps it’s because of its history of abuse. Those who have money have power, and those who have power enjoy using it to their own advantage.
Observe the common workings of a dictatorship. While millions of people suffer from poverty, starvation, and oppression, a country’s leaders live in luxury. They adorn themselves with jewels, expensive suits, and rolex watches. They live in palaces constructed of the finest materials and are surrounded by gold, silver, and ivory. What good do these riches do? These are merely objects; unnecessary possessions. Tyrants around the world obtain whatever their heart desires, and yet we have families that are struggling to feed their own children, homes without running water and electricity, people without medical care or even decent working conditions.
Consequently, money destroys people. It can ruin a friendship. It can smother a marriage, or even corrupt a child. And yet, without any kind of unit of exchange, what would drive and motivate us? We are a species which relies on something that is beyond our control, for money is ever changing, always altering the world in which we live in. Over the course of our lives, the decisions we make are based on currency. Without it, trade, consumption, the global market no longer exists to provide the world with everything it could possibly ask for. Without it, how would we survive?
Exchange. I’ll give you this cow for three chickens. I demand payment for access to my water. You will work for me or you will be killed.
No matter how destructive money is, it is necessary. I work for a company, which makes money from my labor, and in turn gives me a portion in return. I take this money and use it to pay for housing, transportation, food, and other necessities that allow me to live and work for this company. So, in a sense, the company that employs me is paying to me have a high enough standard of living to continue providing them with my personal skills and training. It’s a continuous process that will forever hover over mankind. Without money, we would die.

Thursday, August 27, 2009

Poem of my day

I got to drive a truck today,
Big, Noisy, Rough,
Weaving in and out of
the people walking by.
Swarms of them, its a
Miracle!
I didn't hit anyone
Swerving, weaving
Through cars, students,
Flying around corners,
Don't you walk in front of me.
Large, clumsy vehicle,
this truck,
Finally wobbling into my
Parking spot.
Walking away...
God, I hope that scratch
was there before...

Friday, April 27, 2007

i was emo that day...

I once believed I had the potential to become a great person, someone i aim to be. Someone who will one day do something amazing, something huge.

i just came across the idea that maybe I'm wrong. This "potential" is an illusion. My self-encouragement is empty. Everything I do or have done is in vain.

I've done things that made me feel amazing and momentarily accomplished. These things were only temporary. They made no difference. They had absolutely no permanent impact on anyone.

And it's everyone else that matters.

Monday, April 9, 2007

Heirarchy of Needs.

Do you think its possible to reach perfection? Benjamin Franklin was constantly examining his faults. He would spend time fixing each one, one at a time. He was an eccentric man. He spent a large portion of his life trying to find ways to save time. He unsuccessfully tried to invent the air bath. His accomplishments are recognized and praised by the world, but if he were alive today, and you were to ask him if he felt his life accomplished, I wonder what he would say.

I thought I wanted to pursue perfection; to rid myself of the many faults I possess. But then what? If by some miracle I was able to lose all of the characteristics that make me dislike myself, would that cause me to then look down on others who can't? Maybe I need to focus on learning to accept other peoples faults. but then that would be controversial. because thats like saying I won't look at their faults, I'll focus on mine. But thats what I do anyways.

The path to self-actualization is a never-ending circle.

Maslow. You're a douche.

Tuesday, March 13, 2007

come play with me T^T

I see it. I can see it.
Small things come to mind.

I want to show you where I live and the places I go. I want to be able to sit and chat in the square outside Gallery Expresso, sipping on hot chocolate and watching the night life. Cars swivel around corners and a horse and carriage that slowly amble past, the ‘clip clop’ of its hooves echoing on the pavement.

I’m going to make you climb the Tybee lighthouse, all 492 steps. Huge ships will float by, disappearing on the horizon. Sea gulls will flock together on the beach below us, just visible over the dunes and tall grass.

Maybe we’ll both chase ducks at Lake Mayer. Maybe I’ll chase ducks, and you’ll laugh at how ridiculous I am.

One night we may walk down River Street and the old man with the trumpet will be there, playing a song from his soul. On he will play, the lonely notes of his heartfelt tune fading over the open water. Or maybe we’ll hear the bellowing of old gospels at the corner, accompanied by a humble guitar. The old man in with the fancy boots, the black suit, the shimmering silver top hat, and the long gray beard, he will be there, dancing his heart out, tapping his heels and swaying to the music.

I want to take you to the old catholic cemetery. If we’re lucky, the moon will be bright, shining on the tombstones, and an eerie fog will creep in, blanketing the soft grass.

Of course, I’m going to teach you some of the best ways to break the law. I’m going to drive you over the Talmadge Bridge to South Carolina and buy some good fireworks, which we will promptly set off - in Georgia. I’ll show you my traffic cone collection! Maybe we can steal one together.

I plan on pushing you into a swimming pool. You will, of course, be fully clothed.

On a stormy day, when the rain sounds like thunder and the thunder sounds like bombs, we can curl up in big, fluffy blankets and light candles and watch the shadows dancing across the walls. The rain may last a long time. Being cooped up inside will make us restless, so we’ll say ‘Fuck it!’ and run outside. No umbrellas, no coats, we’ll get soaked to the bone.

And say, after three or four days of not sleeping, we’ll pass out together, slipping into a dream state, warm and comfortable, completely undisturbed by the world.

Monday, January 29, 2007

Jumping off bridges and Pepto Bismol

The world is full of opportunities. With new opportunities being opened to me, I like to take advantage of them. Losing an opportunity is criminal. I want to travel the world, meet new people, learn new things! I also want to invest in doing something I love. But risk is hard. You're never sure which risk to take.

It's kind of like... vomiting. Imagine, on one hand, your stomach feels like you've just been gorged with a rhinocerous horn. You could throw up, it may make you feel better. But throwing up is so incredibly disgusting, that even the thought of forcing yourself to makes you cringe. So you're stuck. Violently expel acidic, potent material from the same orifice that you use to speak, eat, and kiss your mother, OR you could take that sleeping pill, curl up into a fetal position and sit it out til morning. (hopefully by then, your ailments will no longer exist)

Interpret that how you like.

oh, choices, choices.

Wednesday, January 24, 2007

Hide and Seek

They were here first...

Does that mean anything at all...?

The takeover...

ahahaha this song is so amazing ^___^

mmm whatcha sayyy, mm that its all for the best! <3

ransom notes keep fallin out your mouth... [ you dont care a bit, you dont care a bit ]

the one thing i miss above all else.. i fear will never return to me. i have many fears. this is my greatest. but should my fear come true, i have a special place to run off too ^___^

aahahaaha, how come i never make any sense??? xD