updated version of story
scat cat
Posts: 27
OK, I wrote a little bit more. I kept the begininng almost the same, and added onto it. I kept the parenthesis, because I couldn't seem to make it work without them. It's sort of long, so, sorry. Please tell me what you think.
The sun shines brightly on the horizon. Its warmth is a relieving feeling since I've suffered what seems like weeks and weeks (which is actually only a couple of days) of unbearable cold. I've misssed riding my bike down these empty streets on a warm day, gazing at the houses and people who occupy them. It sounds strange, but the little things of their lives somehow make me feel alive.
I especially find their old, rundown houses interesting. There are so many of them lining the cracked streets, and they all seem like they were so beautiful at one time. Most of them are huge, two story homes with big yards, that seem like with a paintjob, a little landscaping, and a touchup, they'd belong in a whole different neighborhood. It probablyWAS a whole different neighborhood many, many years ago, but things have changed. Some of the houses don't even have anyone living in them, but I visualize poor struggling families in the ones that do.
Actually, maybe poor, but not struggling. This may sound cruel or wrong, but living here this past year, I've come to realize that alot of these families don't strive to have better lives. Hell, most of them don't even have jobs. By 20 yrs. old they pop out a couple of kids, get wellfare and foodstamps, and never work a day in their life. Their work is smoking blunts, ignoring their kids, and working on their cars. The other day my drunken neighbor was carrying a tiny baby, along with his 12 pack of beer, slurring some sort of drunken rubish. I couldn't help but think that he'd created the next generation of ugly houses.
Not all of the houses look rundown and ugly, though. There are a few that are fixed up pretty nice with paintjobs and grass yards instead of dirt. I always imagined the people who lived in the fixed up houses were working class family folks. When I say working class, I mean people who work hard in factorys, like cheese plants and bus plants, to support their family.
I guess I think that because that's the type of family I was rtaised in. The man of the house goes and busts his ass for 12 hrs a day, makes a pretty good check, and uses it to fix up his house nicely, as if to say, "I bust my ass. Why don't you?" Of course all of this is done after the family's clothed and fed.
That's it. I don't really like the 2nd paragraph that much, and I'm not really sure if it all goes together, so please give me input. If I suck, just say it. thanks
The sun shines brightly on the horizon. Its warmth is a relieving feeling since I've suffered what seems like weeks and weeks (which is actually only a couple of days) of unbearable cold. I've misssed riding my bike down these empty streets on a warm day, gazing at the houses and people who occupy them. It sounds strange, but the little things of their lives somehow make me feel alive.
I especially find their old, rundown houses interesting. There are so many of them lining the cracked streets, and they all seem like they were so beautiful at one time. Most of them are huge, two story homes with big yards, that seem like with a paintjob, a little landscaping, and a touchup, they'd belong in a whole different neighborhood. It probablyWAS a whole different neighborhood many, many years ago, but things have changed. Some of the houses don't even have anyone living in them, but I visualize poor struggling families in the ones that do.
Actually, maybe poor, but not struggling. This may sound cruel or wrong, but living here this past year, I've come to realize that alot of these families don't strive to have better lives. Hell, most of them don't even have jobs. By 20 yrs. old they pop out a couple of kids, get wellfare and foodstamps, and never work a day in their life. Their work is smoking blunts, ignoring their kids, and working on their cars. The other day my drunken neighbor was carrying a tiny baby, along with his 12 pack of beer, slurring some sort of drunken rubish. I couldn't help but think that he'd created the next generation of ugly houses.
Not all of the houses look rundown and ugly, though. There are a few that are fixed up pretty nice with paintjobs and grass yards instead of dirt. I always imagined the people who lived in the fixed up houses were working class family folks. When I say working class, I mean people who work hard in factorys, like cheese plants and bus plants, to support their family.
I guess I think that because that's the type of family I was rtaised in. The man of the house goes and busts his ass for 12 hrs a day, makes a pretty good check, and uses it to fix up his house nicely, as if to say, "I bust my ass. Why don't you?" Of course all of this is done after the family's clothed and fed.
That's it. I don't really like the 2nd paragraph that much, and I'm not really sure if it all goes together, so please give me input. If I suck, just say it. thanks
Become a vehicle that blossoms truth and freedom
0