Become a Fan.

This is for the lurps.

This is for the ungrateful teachers.


This is for the child with his hands down his pants.


This is for the people who wear white collars to work,
and those who wear blue.
This is for the people who don't wear anything to work,
and the people who don't work.

This is for the bass players.

Become a fan.

This is for the tweeters,
and the Facebookers,
and the bloggers,
and the pinterest-ers?

This is for the dreamers,
and the realists.

This is for the insomniacs,
and Rocky Balboa,
and Philidelphia.

Become a fan.

This is for the beauticians,
and the magicians.
And anyone who ever tried to dream after fourteen.

This is for the elderly who still hold hands.

This is for the dead,
and this is for the kid who gets picked last in gym class.

This is for the fingerless,
and the blind.

This is for the 'perfect' girls.

This is for the undercover whores,
and for the tuba players.

Become a fan.

This is for the 9 to 5-ers,
and the avid smokers.

This is for the addiction,
and the ones it holds underneath unclean fingernails.

This is for more than you.

Become a fan.

This is for idealists,
and the atheists.

This is for the kid who never had a dream.
This is for the sweet talkers,
the desperate teenagers,
and the emotionless lovers.

Become a fan.

Forget who you are for one simple day.
Become absorbed in something bigger than yourself.
Sit back, and enjoy the game.
Eat some popcorn.
Become a fan.

There's so many things to do in this exotic world.
So, I'll pose my question.
Why not?
Explore.
Walk.
Hike.
Dream.
Be a kid again.
Smoke.
Breathe.
Drink.
Run.
Write.
Make-out.
Have fun.
Get in trouble.
Ride a bike.
Swim.
Scrape your knee.
Cut your hair.
Plant a tree.
Live.
Breathe.
Become a fan.
Sit back, and enjoy the game.

Good Ghandi, I'm writing again.

I want something. The only problem is, is that I keep forgetting what I want. The world keeps evolving too fast for my mind to analyze, and then react. So I sit here emotionless, quietly trying to figure out what is happening to all of us.
One day, I will be somebody. The morbid truth behind that is I keep forgetting that day is going to be the day I die. I'll be in the morning news' obituary. I can see it now. It won't be a big article, just a few lines stating my name and showing the world that I am a somebody. Was a somebody.
But now I'm six feet under, with one question on my mind.

"When will we own ourselves completely?"

And from the moment my blood stopped pulsing through my veins, I started pondering if it was the moment I 'became a man', or maybe when I committed my first sin, or when my emotions died.

I want to know when I will own myself completely. I just keep forgetting it can't be in this life. It just can't be, and that is something I do know. No matter how old you are, single or not, you are owned by something, or someone.
Looking at people from my perspective, everyone is trapped in a dark tunnel, and they don't know how to get out. Since nobody in this world knows how to do anything for themselves, they turn to whatever resources are necessary to escape the darkness. Some believe in turning to a God to help, and people will scratch, claw, push, and do whatever is necessary to be free.
Everyone keeps forgetting they're owned. Teenagers are owned by their parents, couples are owned by their spouse, and single people are owned by things such as fast food, Call of Duty, and work.
So the question arises again, when will I own myself completely? My answer is never.
I have heard that drugs will free your mind, and make you free. What confuses me is that I can't understand what are they free from. You are completely owned by the drugs the second it touches your lips, nose, or bloodstream. It's called addiction.
I keep forgetting that one day, we're all going to die. The world will be nothing more than an unmoving, lifeless planet. But tonight, I'm not going to die. I'm too strong to stop. There's still so much I haven't done yet, and I will do. "Make love to 'Let's Get It On' by Marvin Gaye" is on that list and I will do that before I walk into the light. When people almost die, they say they see a light. A light at the end of a tunnel.
Is death the only form of freedom?
For as much as we living beings know, yes.
Tonight, I don't want to see that light.
But tonight is not the last time I'll see the light.

People live to be 100 years old, and they can tell stories upon stories.
I'm 17 years old without a story to tell.

Tonight is not the last time I will see the light.

I still have a story to tell.

Title and Registration

Stan Littlefield is your average man. Lives in the average city apartment, alone. With a normal job where he sits at the computer all day long and types complete garbage onto a dimly lit screen. Walks from his apartment to work, regardless the weather to maintain his physique. Which honestly, after all of the late night McDonald's runs, isn't working out. Gets his hair cut every two weeks at the local Sports Clips half a block away from his apartment, and showers and brushes his teeth twice a day. Until one day, while on his walk home he is struck by lightning. Electricity illuminating from his body, he lies there. A crowd of bypassers surround his lifeless body as his eyes shoot open to the most immaculate woman he's ever laid eyes upon. He closes his eyes again as the sounds of ambulances and flashing lights take him over. Waking up alone in a hospital room, he touches the alarm clock on the nightstand next to him only to watch it explode. Tries to turn on the lamp, but it explodes as well. Looking down at his hands, he sees a glow from within his veins. Looking outside the window, he sees an ambulance being hosed down by local firefighters.

Will he ever meet this girl again?
Is there a cure for his newfound disease?
Why is he alone?

Blurbs

Never Forget You - Lupe Fiasco

Have you ever walked through life without ever looking up to see the surroundings? Skylar White did this for the first 23 years of his life, and is now realizing he is a lot more successful than he had anticipated. Not knowing what to expect out of the future, he recalls the good times of the past and the bad things going on in the world. Each day he strives to remind everyone at how good being alive actually is, one person at a time.

 Landed - Ben Folds

How do you say goodbye to your whole entire life? When all you do is make excuses to keep her around. This is the life of Todd Silverman. Holding onto something that had left him a long time ago, he moves away to Seattle, to sit in the rain, and wait for someone to come and pick him up.

 Iris - The Goo Goo Dolls

You know that thing that is constantly running through your mind? The person that you would give anything for, but they don’t know you exist. You want to show them the real you, just scared of the outcome. John String puts himself out there, for better or for worse.

My Story

Hey, what's going on? I don't ever know how to start these things. What has television come to? This is so weird. How do kids enjoy this crap? A show named Fred, honestly? It's not hard to suck up a whole balloon filled with helium and then act like you're seven. Fred, grow up. He's acting jealous over a band-geek-bully who can only play Wang Chung's "Everybody Have Fun Tonight" on the piano. Then move onto 'Chopsticks' - way to impress the ladies, Fred. My baby cousin can play that, and she's 3.
The more this show goes on, the more I want to find him and kill him with a spoon. How do kids enjoy this crap? Seriously? Why can't kids enjoy normal shows, about normal people like 'Drake & Josh'? A great show about a semi-nerdy fat kid who becomes step brothers with a boy who plays guitar, and makes out with girls. Even look at 'Spongebob Squarepants'. A snail that meows, a squirrel in an astronaut suit, and a crab with whale for a daughter. I don't even want to know about the third one.
What happened to the good ol' cartoons like Tom & Jerry, or Ed, Edd, and Eddy? Oh, some writer thought that kids wanted to watch a 16 year old boy freak out like a five year old, or see how Phineas and Ferb file for bankruptcy after one summer.
I love television. And Sundays I get to spend all day watching it.

Love, Ralph.

Untitled.

I wanna have a dream
my dearest friends close in around me
Life's waiting to begin.

Here I am -
I cannot breathe
My hope has burned over time.

My eyes are burned open
As I wake up
and, I'm still alive.

Here we go.

Sincere Letter to a Toilet

Dear Toilet,

How are you? Honestly? Do you wish you were another brand? or had a wider base?
What about the people that sit on you? Too fat, too skinny? Tell me about it.

To be honest, I've never written a letter to a toilet before, but we do new things every day. For example, you might take a spider wrapped up in toilet paper. Speaking of toilet paper. How are you two? I hope you're working things out. Honestly, cheating on him with the plunger probably wasn't the best idea. I mean, I knew you weren't flushing right, but c'mon! The plunger? Nevermind.
I don't have many positive things to say about that one. I just can't stand seeing you flush away what you have with toilet paper. For heavens sakes. Can't you tell that the plunger gets around? I mean, no offense but he's kind of a player. He hits up all the other toilets in the house. I just.. I don't get it, just because he has a stick he thinks he can just go around and 'help out' the other toilets in the house. Whatever.. stupid players. I mean plungers.

Now I'm feeling angry, so I hope you have a nice day. Try not to get 'clogged' this week.

Sincerely,
     Soap in the Shower

P.S. You're looking kind of dirty.

You.

The iPod doesn't lie. When in doubt, put it on shuffle.

Dear You,

How are you? I hate small talk.

You, what about you?
When I think of you, what do I think of?

Sunshines, and butterflies, and rainbows?
No.
Not exactly.
I think about jealousy, passion, and what teenagers call 'love'.
It's riding a roller coaster, you are.
Not literally, pervert. But emotionally, you're 'Wicked'.

You, I can't stop thinking about you now.
I want you out, please.
Actually, since you're here.
Stay, have a cup of hot cocoa.
It is kind of chilly out.

I miss you.
But, that'll be our little secret.
You put me in a vertigo, each and every day.
I like not knowing which way is up.

Because, I'm thinking about you.
And that's all that matters.

Have a nice day.

Yours truly, Ralph.

Honey-Do List

You have been given direct orders to rock out.

Rock out like it's Halloween night, and you've got your Superman suit on, with your empty bag and a mindset to say "trick-or-treat" as many times as you can. Rock out like it's the last day of school, the biggest game of your life, like you just got an 'A' on your math test.

Rock out like you just filled your pillowcase with candy, like you just won the State championship, like you had the highest score in the class.

Rock out like she said 'yes'.


Rock out like you got all 7 digits this time.


Rock out like you just got paid. And yes, it's time for the money dance.

Rock out like you're black and you're proud.
Rock out like James Brown did while singing that song.

Rock out like you just found out that 2Pac, Biggie, and Michael Jackson are actually just chillin' in Tahiti.

Rock out like they didn't die.
Rock out because of what they did.

Rock out like you've got nothing but a chair, the sand, the ocean, a pretty girl, a notebook, a pen, and a cool glass of strawberry lemonade.

Rock out like Happy Gilmore when he finds his 'Happy Place'.

Rock out like the streets are empty, and all you want is to dance with your girl.
Rock out like you finally kissed the girl.

Rock out like you just hiked Mt Everest, and you're staring off the back edge gazing at the rest of the world.

Rock out like today is the last day of your life,
                                                            you just don't know it yet.

Life, and Death.

The other day, I heard an interesting concept.

We die.

One day, we're all gonna die. So, why is everyone so timid?
One day, we're all gonna die.
So, starting today what am I going to do?

Live.

Life is a beautiful thing. There's so much to do, so many things to see, so many people to meet.
And yet, most of the world is stuck in their little cubicle staring at a computer screen playing solitare.
Then one day, they're going to have a super bad day. It'll be snowing.. no raining outside and on the commute home they're going to get an a car accident, and then...
they're dead. Gone forever.

So, who knows? Death could be at my own doorstep. I never realized this, but I could die on my way home from school. A simple 2.2 miles, I've driven over 1,000 times.

I don't want to die today. I didn't even get to hug my mom goodnight, it was a simple 'Goodnight mom, love you' from 20 feet away then I crawled back to the basement. I never want to miss another night, I love you, mom.

If I did die tomorrow, I know that I'ld die happy. I would like to think that people would miss me, but who knows? I never want to miss another opportunity again. An opportunity to help, to love, to simply say hi. Life seems to fly by way too fast, and can be taken away all too easy.
So, "pray about everything, worry about nothing".
You'll be good, just live without regret.
Learn from the past, and don't hold onto it, too tightly.

Not now.

I walk alone.
This is all I seem to know.
Countless steps I've taken.
Down this godforsaken road.

I walk alone. The wind is bursting, the rain isn't just falling, but pouring.

I hang my head, just to walk alone.

All,
alone.

Walking, taking each step
like I've never done this before.
On my feet, is a road
and on the road, is me.

Peering, I see people.
All huddled together,
breathing as one.
Faces blank.

My sopping mop covers my eyes,
as their eyes stare at mine.
Diappointment is all they see of me.
But they dont know my side of the story. 

Buildings are broken, windows shattered.
Cars - torched.
Not a thing in sight that is worth a dime.

Why keep going?
Because maybe, just maybe.
She'll call.

The same scene flashes in front of me -
I fall upon one knee,
gaze up in her eyes,
pop the question,
pull out the ring,
and just like a hammer hitting a nail,
I got put in the ground.

I walk alone.
I walk alone.

The world goes dark, as my eyes shut.
I keep walking, it's all I know now.

I walk alone.
I walk alone.

I'm Thinking About You.

As I stare at this blank piece of paper before me,
the only thing I really want to see -
Is the sight of you in my eye,
because my mind just won't justify.

I'm thinking about you.
I'm thinking about you like crazy,
like Jamaican ladies think about braiding,
or skaters think about skating,
like the sun thinks of the sky,
or every penguins desire to fly.

I'm thinking about you like hammers think of nails,
or skates think of rails.
I'm thinking of you like birds think of worms
or a lawer about his firm.
I'm thinking of you like the desert thinks of rain,
or the insane think about being sane.

I'm thinking about you like a square wishes it could be a circle.

I'm thining of you like pens think about paper,
and people think about paper.
And I don't want to stop writing this paper,
because I'm thinking of you.

I'm thinking of you like rock thinks of roll,
like Mary Kate thinks of Ashley.
I'm thinking of you like kids think of summer,
or cops think of robbers.

I'm thinking of you like summer thinks of winter,
or boats think of hoes.
I'm thinking of you like shampoo thinks of conditioner,
or ears think of... being a good listener.

I'm thinking about you like you wouldn't believe,
now my question is...

Are you thinking of me?

Love is...

Love is a gamble. Love is a secret. Love is a bottomless drink. Love is an spending all of your time. Love is a fat kid lusting for cake. Love is a day skiing. Love is when you were five, without a care in the world. Love is a box with no expiration date. Love is a roller coaster. Love is that person who keeps coming to mind while I'm writing this post. Love is a clock. Love is just a game with no winner or loser, just a desire to keep playing. Love is Friday (everyone can't wait for it, but once it gets there, you don't know what to do with it). Love is 'my drug.' Love is the reason why we live, die, and do stupid things. "Love is the answer to most of the questions in my heart" - Jack Johnson. Love is a box of chocolates. Love is a Disney movie. Love is a fight. Love is underrated. Love, is love.

- Love is the word which can be described but never DEFINED.
- Love, a crazy, stupid, simple, four letter word.
- "Love is a green stop sign. Love is trying to learn colors in the dark." - K. Nelson

Introduction.

Honestly, my name isn't really Ralph Abraham. It's my pen name.
A few years ago, I had  this crazy desire to write down every single thought I had. But in the past year, I lost it. Just like a kid loses his toys. I didnt' know what happened! Maybe it was the crazy summer. Who knows?
I'm very excited to begin to my blog because now I am an official BLOGGER.
Thanks for stopping by, hopefully you come back.
-Ralph.