The second half of my Senior year was no doubt entertaining, I had a lot of fun with the friends I’ve gathered over the past four years. One part of my senior year was this class, Creative Writing. I love reading and writing, I mostly like to write about relevant topics that I feel very strongly about, like gay marriage, racism, etc. I like to talk about topics that everyone deals with every day and they don’t even notice. Creative Writing gave me an outlet to vent a little bit about social justice issues facing our world, I loved to come in and write in a personal journal that I can keep my secrets in the very open society we live in. There’s always the obvious things we learn in class, like definitions, structure, and etiquette, but the one really important thing I learned while in Creative writing isn’t something you could teach if you tried. The most important thing I learned in Creative writing is how to take time to think to yourself and write down our thoughts in a journal, it’s extremely therapeutic to get all your thoughts you, to say whatever you want. I think if everyone took ten or fifteen minutes a day to just sit in silence or with your favorite music and just write your feelings there would be so much less stress in the world. It is actually a real treatment for distressed people to keep a journal, a private friend that only you talk to, someone who’s always sympathetic. In a world which is growing together with all our technology but constantly growing apart because of the technology it’s becoming less common to have a friend you can tell anything to. I thank Mrs. Thillman and Creative Writing for teaching me how to sit down and appreciate writing, addressing everyone and nobody at the same time. Creative writing has given me the greatest therapy ever, and when I get my phd in clinical psychology it is something I will remember and carry on to my patients to help them.
- The Perfect Cup of Cocoa
The perfect cup of cocoa
Is rich and chocolatey,
And always warm, but not too hot –
Like your mother.
A steaming chocolate sea.
With marshmallows I smother.
The surface is enclosed beneath
A thick marshmallow mound,
Which melts into a gooey cloud
Without the slightest sound.
I’m going to instagram this,
For all the whitegirls around.
When they see the perfect cup of cocoa
Their jaws will hit the ground.
A whipped cream swirl extends beyond
The surface of the cup,
All this sugar I’ll chug chug chug
And chocolate sprinkles add
The perfect touch to dress it up.
Diabetes in a mug.
The perfect cup of cocoa
Is like an old best friend –
It’s warm, it’s sweet, it’s such a treat,
And yummy till the end.
- Found Poem
Chill cheerless gallery of space
eerie, dark and spacious
I offered rose
meriting no thorns
solitary, no fears
once content, I awoke
Bright, unlike that rose
roused by change
new hope astir
cannot define, expected
- My Grandma
“They say practice makes perfect…
But my Grandma told me nobody is perfect…
So just be you.”
Letter to my Grandchild
You made it to 18! congratulations! I’m sure you’re planning on going to a good college and planning out your life just like I’m doing right now. I’m going to Northern Michigan University, it’s a pretty good school so you should be proud of your old grandpa. I’m 5’10 with dark hair, fair skin, and a friendly face. I hope you look like me so when I’m old I can look at you and see myself in you. The world I live in is in turmoil, There are riots going on because of police brutality, people want change, not to mention recreational marijuana is being legalized (you can thank my generation for that). If there’s one thing I want you to learn from me is that the world can be so cold, so hang on to your family, and I don’t mean just your relatives, because they will always be there to help you.
New Fictional Narrative: The Greedy Queen
In a land far, far…. really far away, like not on this planet far away, like beyond Star Wars faraway. Anyways, I’m getting off topic, so anyways there was a young Princess. Now you should know that the rules are a little different in this land, and by a little I mean a lot. In this far away land of Genswiznia the girls chase the boys. In Genswiznia there were still castles and beautiful untouched lands as far as the eye can see, a truly pure planet with no pollution, no sickness, no war, and no death, the sun light was always shining down from the vibrant blue sky on its beautiful green meadows, the sun truly never set on the kingdom of Genswiznia. Us earthlings have caught glimpses of this far far far away planet in our high tech telescopes and have dubbed it “Heaven.” All was calm in Genswiznia, there was one ruler on the planet, A fair King named Jezebel and her faithful husband, Queen Jim. Every night all the subjects of the land were invited into King Jezebel’s enormous luxurious castle for a feast in which they honored the good King with praises of “Oh! you’re the greatest ruler in all the land!” and “Long live the King!” and don’t forget about “King Jezebel forever!” and all was good, until the good Queen started to get jealous of the praises the King got. After all, he was important too! Every morning he got up and bathed in the crystal like waters in the meadow, he brushes his long luxurious blonde hair 200 times on each side and puts on his makeup. All the King ever did was make important political decisions, eat, fart, and keep the peace. One day the jealous Queen Jim was pushed to the edge
“You never pay any attention to me! tell me I’m PRETTY!” he exclaimed.
The good King Jezebel took a second to think about what she should do.
“My good husband.” Jezebel said calmly
“I’m listening…” Queen Jim said, waiting for her response.
“Yours is the most important part to be played in the kingdom.” King Jezebel said.
“Really…?” The Queen said waiting for a response.
“Of course my beautiful husband!” she exclaimed “you are the face of the kingdom, you are on all the coins as you requested, banners of your face hang from the castle walls, I even changed the flag to a picture of your face!”
Queen Jim pondered on this for a second. “Well if I’m so important then make me the king.” he said slyly.
“My faithful husband…” King Jezebel started “I am the one the people chose, and I chose you, is that not enough?”
“Not. even. close.” Queen Jim said while his bottom lip stuck out in a pouting face.
“I can do no more for you then,” The King said in a gentle tone. “If you still desire more then I’m afraid you will have to find someone else to get it for you.”
The good king Jezebel slept on the royal couch that night. When she awoke she walked to the bedroom to speak with Queen Jim, but he was nowhere to be found, she searched in the kitchen, expecting to find the Queen yelling at the cooks, but all was calm. She searched the bathroom where the Queen could often be found stroking his long luxurious hair. She even searched the common room where the couch warm from her sleep there. The good Queen Jim was gone.
Miles away was Queen Jim, walking through the forest, complaining because his high heels both snapped and his hair was caught in a branch. Just as Queen Jim was about to get untangled a booming voice could be heard.
“WHO DARES TREAD ONTO MY LAND?!?!”
“I’m the Queen, haven’t you seen the coins, or the flag? Who are you?” the Queen said with sass.
“I AM THE WICKED WIZARD!!” the voice responded and a man in a black cloak and red boots appeared with a wicked laugh.
“Never heard of you. I bet your face isn’t on a single coin” the Queen said getting impatient. “Are you going to turn me into a toad or something? Because I’m getting impatient.”
The Wicked Wizard saw an opportunity in the distressed Queen.
“I’d like to strike a deal with you.” he said with a snake like hiss. “I will grant one wish of your choice at a price.”
“Make me king.” the Queen said without hesitation.
“You don’t even want to know what the price is?” the Wizard said surprised.
“I was just going to sit here in the woods until Jezebel made me King anyways, this is just speeding up the process.” Jim said
“Go back to your kingdom, and you will find things much different.” the Wicked Wizard demanded.
When the now King Jim made it back to the kingdom she found it to be mostly the same. The former King Jezebel was nowhere to be found! All that could be found was a gross toad jumping around in the throne room. Jim was finally king. As he sat down in the throne he was immediately bombarded with questions, “Why are my pigs being taxed?”
“Someone stole my horses.”
“That man stabbed me.”
It was too much for the dimwitted King Jim to handle! He gave up after only 2 hours.
“I GIVE UP!” the distressed King Jim yelled.
Just then the Wicked Wizard showed up in a cloud of black smoke, laughing maniacally.
“too much for the good King Jim to handle?”
“This is boooooring,” Jim groaned “I haven’t even taken my second bath today!”
The Wicked Wizard laughed and laughed.
“Well if you would have asked what the price you were to pay was you would know that if you give up I get to turn you and all your subjects into toads and rule Genswiznia forever! Muahahaha!”
Jim was instantly turned into a toad along with everyone else in the kingdom. Now that Jim was a toad he recognized the toad in the throne room, it was Jezebel! They hopped off into the meadow and lived happily ever after as gross toads while the Wicked Wizard ruled over a kingdom with no subjects.
- The Color Yellow
Every morning when I wake up
I take a shower and prepare for the day
I think what I would wear in a Hollywood closeup
but always from the color yellow I stray
Yellow is not my favorite color
I’ve never truly been a fan
no I wouldn’t wear yellow for a silver dollar
Yellow is never in the plan
But yellow is all around us
it’s on the sun so high in the sky
in the sunset and rise at dusk
It’s mixed with blue to make the green, so much yellow I could cry
No yellow is not my favorite color
not even a close second
I’d rather not look like a bright yellow marker
I still can’t stand it in my reflection
No food or drink on the computer room
If violated you shall meet your doom
If librarians were barbarians
Then all the students would be scared again
but librarians aren’t barbarians
and I am scared no more
I’ll drink my drink and eat my food
and spill it on the floor
And if they kick me out the door
I’ll say “Thank you, please, may I have one more.”
Why is water?
Water is the lifeforce of the planet
Why does it matter?
You know water can split granite
Water carved the grand canyon
drop by drop with every splatter
Water is mighty like a lava powered cannon
but gentle like a mother’s touch
Water is the earth’s crutch
without it nothing would stand
it makes up most of me
it’s present in all the trees
water can split a seed and from it comes a plant
and that plant can feed the land for generations yet to be
So why is water? What is life without the seas?
New Blog Posts
- My Favorite Foods
When I was a child I was much more picky than I am today. In fact I will devour anything placed in front of me today but my childhood was spent poking food on my plate and waiting for the coveted dessert to come around. That is unless one of my favorite foods was placed in front of me. My dream dinner started off with meatloaf, but not any meatloaf, it had to be my mother’s home made meatloaf which tasted like it was baked in God’s oven. Next up on the menu was mashed potatoes. My mom made her mashed potatoes with more than just potatoes, she mixed garlic and spices in there and every time it was a new experience. Sometimes she would leave little pieces of potato skins in the mashed potatoes and I would be less than happy because you peel the skins off for some obvious reason, my child brain probably linked potato skins to time out or something like that, but they would be no less amazing. I was not always an advocate for vegetables, I mean they come out of the dirt. Gross. I do not think that any more but when I was a kid the only vegetable I would eat willingly was either sweet corn or broccoli. I know not many kids like broccoli but I loved it, raw, cooked, in a casserole, I would eat it all. So my dinner table always had enough corn and broccoli to fill me up. Now this meal would not be complete without one special thing. When I was a kid I would take buttered bread, a slice of meatloaf, some mashed potatoes, and sweet corn and make a delicious buttered mashed corn loaf sandwich. Call me childish but I still do that today, it tastes of nostalgia and home made cooking from when things were simpler. Now no dinner would be complete without dessert. My favorite, and I mean FAVORITE dessert was and still is my mom’s home made cookies. There’s nothing wrong with cookies from the store or pre made dough, but if you have never had one of my mother’s home made cookies your life is not complete. Everyone’s all time favorite was chocolate chip, we always had a container full of them, and when we ran out there was always a batch in the oven. Whenever we would go to a family get together or hang out with friends all the kids would ask “Did you bring any Isy Cookies??” which was the nickname for my mom’s cookies, Isy is obviously my mom’s name. I think growing up with them has lessened the amazingness of them, I mean how can you know a good cookie if you have never had a bad cookie? Sometimes I still request my favorite childhood foods because they remind me of simpler times, some are still around like my moms cookies or the mashed potatoes, but nothing beats those memories of sitting down with the entire family and enjoying a meal.
- When I Grow Up
When I was just a young boy I, like many others, had all my future plans figured out. First I would go to Stanford where I would study to be a fireman, my minor would be in being an astronaut, pretty much all the stereotypical “when I grow up” ideas. My dad used to be a volunteer fireman, as well as a businessman, so I guess sometimes childhood dreams do come true, I think he even got to fight a couple fires over the years. My mom was a florist since I can remember, her co-workers became my family because I would go there after school most days and just be a hooligan. I loved helping with the flowers, but I could never see myself seriously doing something like that one day. Over time I switched from fireman to astronaut to policeman, I wanted to help people and make discoveries. While other kids watched cartoons I watched Neil DeGrasse Tyson and Bill Nye, That was when I wanted to be an astronaut or an astrophysicist. My hero is still Neil DeGrasse Tyson, that’s right, my hero is a scientist. I realized that sharing knowledge is the greatest way to help people and advance the human race. As I grew and matured I slowly realized that people are my passion, specifically helping people. I think that a human life, or all life really, is amazing and that it’s nothing to be taken lightly. I’ve wanted to do something with psychology since I got into middle school and realized that astrophysics is mostly really hard math and I could barely pass algebra. It was always my first response to help someone who is in stress or is dealing with something completely out of their control, I’ve always been kinda funny, and laughter is the best medicine you know. Too bad you can’t get a prescription for a giggle. I have had several friends who were down in the dumps and maybe even contemplating suicide, I would stay up into the early morning talking to them on the phone, it feels good to help people out, and when someone is living because you helped them out it feels like you just beat death. Now in high school and getting ready to graduate I’m moving on to study clinical psychology so I can help people for a living being either a therapist or psychiatrist. I’ve taken psychology classes before and it’s hard, I know exactly what I signed up for and am willing to take on the challenge. What keeps me working hard to graduate is the knowledge that I will help countless people one day just by being someone you can tell anything and everything to, that’s what I love, the feeling when someone trusts you with every detail of their life. That might sound a little excessive but I could sit and listen to people’s life stories all day, and that’s what I want to do for a career, be a shoulder to cry on and an ear to talk to.
- The Happiest Place in the World
The happiest place in the world for me is a topic that brings up some sad feelings. My happiest place in the world is not a place I can visit anymore. My house was a 100 year old farm house in the country. It was the house that I was born and raised in, I was born during a huge blizzard in 1997 and our driveway had five foot snowdrifts blocking all cars from getting in and out. My mother gave birth to me in a recliner in the center of our living room. That’s where Colin Patrick Neuman is from. People always seem surprised when I tell them that I was born in the room they were in, and there were no weird side effects other than my slightly weird belly button. Most people know what home feels like, it’s a distinct feeling of utter comfort that can’t be found anywhere else. Nothing beats your first house, the one that you lived in since before you can remember. My first memory at that house is in the room my brother Dan and I shared, my dad made us these cool beds that pulled out from scratch, Dan and I were playing hide and seek and I was under the bed giggling while Dan got closer. My dad was a farm boy that went corporate, he loves to get out of his dress clothes at the end of the day and work on cars, go hunting, fourwheeling, play football and baseball with his kids, and garden with my mom, he’s a great dude, seeing the childlike look of glee on his face when he gets outdoors makes me happy. Anyways back to the house, we had three rooms in the upstairs where all the kids lived, when you walked up the stairs my sisters room was straight ahead, my brother Pat’s room was to the left (he was the oldest so he got his own room), To the right was my creepy attic, and if you stood in the hall and turned around that was Dan and my room. When Pat moved out I got his room, I was the one to find out how to climb on the roof where I would hang out whenever I would fight with my siblings and wanted to be alone. Down the stairs that curved to the left was the dining room, we never actually dined there, it was just where the arguments over the computer went down, the kitchen door was on the opposite corner of the room, there was nothing too special about the kitchen other than the millions of cookies that were born and died in that kitchen and the memories of sneaking raw cookie dough off the baking pans. The living room was always my favorite room. Behind the french doors was a big room with two massive couches and a lazyboy (not the same one I was born in) on the ceiling was a vent that led up to my room that I inherited from Pat, cool right? The living room was where all sleepovers took place, it was awesome. Off the right side of the living room was the door to my parents room, that was a buzz kill for sleepovers but we dealt with it. In the summer of 2013 my happiest place in the world was torn down but the memories keep it alive.