P4+EEssen

The House on Samar Dr.

My house is nice. Everyone says because I live in a 2 story house that I'm rich. Emphasis on "I'm". Which is totally not true. My 'parents' have a nice income but most of it pours into the house payment and the bills. Only a little trikles down to me, and I mean a little.

"Hands"

You could tell who everyone in my family is just by looking and feeling their hands. My mom's hands are soft like deer fur, all smooth and calming. My dad's hands are coarse and rough, they kinda hurt. They're like granite, un-polished granite chipped and scraped. My twin's hands are fast. Always looking for something to do, always quick to react. My older brother's hands are textured and hairy. Sorta like canvas but shredded canvas. My hands are soft and leathery with lots of scars from my cat who took a liking to rip it to smithereens and there are alot of freckles too.

"My Name"

My name is Eric Stephen Essen. I was named after my dad's dad, Eric W. Essen. See the resemblance. According to my english teacher's pc its from 'Old Norse' and means "Ruler of ALL" which is totally awesome. But then again, because there are soo many different forms of it, it used to get me made fun of alot. It's kinda like the number 5 with all its different uses and all it can be used for. 'Eric' sounds like an 80s rock song, it seems like it should be longer but is just a whole bunch of words put together and a potato masher taken to it. Kinda like trying to swim underwater in a kiddy pool. It'll never happen without some work but no one wants to try. It’s not like my older brother's name, Brian. Hearty, manly, perfect son like name. I wish I was a Dylan. All filled with miscevious schemes and plots to make you happier or ruin your life and not give hoot about either.

Me and My Brothers

My brothers and I are completely different. They like cars and I like... well not cars! But anyways, they are 'outside people' and I'm and 'inside person'. What's really bad is that they always pressure me into stuff like say going to an arcade of ehish i got bored of a long time ago. Going to a friends house when I seriously don't want to. I have my reasons. Um... what else...They see the glass half empty where as I might see glasses.

King of Whatever You Don't Want

I like to keep junk. Alot of junk. I have old T-shirts, broken toys, computer parts, literally anything anyone doesn't want. So then yes I am a pack-rat. Allthough you might think the only bad thing about being a pack-rat is loss of space but there are serious side effects. Well for one your always trying to fix the broken stuff but the you end up just breaking it even more. So in turn you yourself feel like a broken toy; you wont work no matter how hard you try.

"Stereotypes"

I grew up without much outside influence. My parents never said anything that might have been even the slightest bit racist. So like the good christian they wanted me to be, I grew up not seeing skin color, accents, customs, or cultures but seeing personality and how someone's personality changes their appearance in my eyes. Although when middle school came along, "Mexican", "White", "Asian", and other labels came into view. It was then that I started worrying about what I say to other people and how I act around them. If maybe swearing at someone might offend their, shall we say, 'people'. It scared me to think that anything I might do could bring the world crashing down on me like a frenzy of rabid birds. This changed me for ever. I soon began to think that all people of a race were alike, hence stereotyping, and it was hard for me to realize that not all people of that race or religion or any other genre are alike.

"Spooky Dutch Lady from the Corner House"

On the street where I live there is and old, old Dutch lady with an over-grown garden, meaningless path, and creepy vine trellis arc with no vines. Occasionally her daughter visits her and the talk and yell and whisper in Dutch at each other. "...SPRECHIN SAY...wirgen...dirgen yer...” like that but with real words and it makes them look like they're mental. Every Christmas she brings us Christmas cookies. Well not cookies like danishs-es but they look like chunky lotion clumps with yellow, lemon-smelling stuff oozing out. They really, really creep me out so I never eat them. She always wears her nice old, perfect-grandma smile acting innocent, even though she probably is.

"Chanclas"

I never thought very much of myself. I guess it started in late middle school. I lied alot, "Mom I'm done with my homework..." I'd say or "Ya, I took the dog for a walk while you were out running errands...". Then there was the biggest mistake of my middle school life. One boring after school, ditching Project Success day with 2 of my friends I had the ingenius idea of permanently locking the classrooms of my most hated teachers. Brilliant! No? Well it worked and some of the locks had to be removed and repaired it costed the schoold $100 and thoroughly succeeded in the plan with no possible way of being caught. HA! HA! Like I wouldn't leave something around for me to get caught by/with. I left the "murder weapon" in my backpack and it fell out and my teacher immediately caught me. Kill-Cut-Cook. More like roast. My parents had to pay for the damage to the locks and I got suspendedand my parents stopped trusting me. It seems like I should have been punished more but that was alot for an eitghth grader to handle.I deserve what I got and now I can't lie without it resting in the back of my mind slowly killing me untill I confess.

Incorrect

Have you ever asked anyone a question and gotten a completely wrong answer? Well that happens to me, alot. I'll ask my parents, What's it mean when you 'kick the bucket', and they'll say it doesn't mean anything you just kick a bucket. I hope your see what I mean, and this happens alot, like alot alot. and maybe vice versa too. I might anwser a question of their's wrong then they get mad and then that makes me angry and then...and then...

Mother, O Mother...

My mom likes to think that she's got everything under control. The defrag process on her computer, the garlic bread on fire in the sto-ven for spagetti dinner, Scott and his constant, constant bickering. And soo many, many, many more. She likes to volunteer too. Don't get me started on that...


 * Mother, O Mother...

My mom likes to think that she's got everything under control. The defrag process on her computer, the garlic bread on fire in the sto-ven for spaghetti dinner, Scott and his constant, constant bickering. And soo many, many more. She likes to volunteer too. Don't get me started on that...**


 * Sabilla, Pizza, and the Boyfriend

Sabilla, pretty german nanny, Sabilla. Don't get me wrong she was that of a rose. Down to the park, she said, we're gonna meet my boyfriend, he's got pizza! O so many times, pizza and the boyfriend, the velvety dark curtain keeping all the light for himself. All the light that put you to bed all the light that made you breakfast. No Sabilla! Don't go Sabilla! No more boyfriend, but then no more pizza, 'cause no more Sabilla. Like putting a dead rose in a broken vase.
 * Incorrect
 * Incorrect

Have you ever asked anyone a question and gotten a completely wrong answer? Well that happens to me, alot. I'll ask my parents, "What's it mean when you 'kick the bucket' ", and they'll say it doesn't mean anything you just kick a bucket. I hope your see what I mean, and this happens alot, like alot alot. And maybe vice versa too. I might answer a question of theirs wrong then they get mad and then that makes me angry and then I usually go play on the computer.**