Jack Tracker

a recipe. ingredients in a jack.

I like purple colored fireworks.

I was expelled from highschool and college.

Jumping up and down streams on the rocks that break the surface is probably my favorite thing to do ever. Especially with friends.

I use to be a thief. I’m not that person anymore, but there were some good adventures in there to go along with the bad ones.

When I was young I thought i’d be able to love more truly than anyone else.
I was so wrong.
But I wanted to. and still wish I could.

Sometimes I make bananas look like little rabbit puppets.

I was homeless in new york and slept under tables in hotels that had sheets on them that reached the floor. One time I woke up to some girl setting up a feast on the table I was sleeping under. 
It was terrifying but fun.
That kind of situation happens far more often than you’d think.

When I hitchhike I pretend broken down cars on the side of the road are mine so people are more likely to pick me up.

I miss my jeep. I woke up in the back of it once next to the most beautiful redhead and couldn’t understand how I was so lucky. she’s kissed by fire.

My family gets drunk and opens all our presents on the night of christmas eve. We take turns guessing what’s inside our presents and we keep score.

I wanted to be a power ranger when I grew up.
I’d still do it if the opportunity came along.

A kid took my hat around a bush and peed on it when I was in middle school.
I went home, washed it, and wore it the next day out of spite.
We were friends, but I think that was a deal breaker.

I was really good at soccer.
And wall ball.
And four square.

I hit my PE teacher in the head with a basketball. I don’t remember if it was an accident. Sorry Mr. Temple.

My first kiss ever was a staged kiss. Megan. She was a senior and I was a freshman. We were working on a ‘group musical’ for competition and she felt bad because I kept trying to dodge it. She didn’t feel bad anymore when she knew why.

My first real kiss was Afton. I didn’t know it at the time, but she thought I wanted other sexual favors, whereas I was just really nervous and anxious about kissing her.

I snuck out and threw small rocks at windows.

I wrote love songs.

I cheated.

I didnt know how to handle jealousy or insecurity.

I rented a uhaul to take a girl on a date.

I stopped my car in the middle of traffic to ask a girl in the car behind me on a date. She was my ‘girlfriend’ in a community theatre show we were in.

I’ve only been in one car wreck. everyone was okay.

I broke my hand punching my brother in the dark.

My first drink was a Black Opal. Jane Elliott bought it for me at the Melting Pot in Portland. She also took a couple of my other ‘firsts’.

I never liked the color orange, or mustaches.
I don’t like not liking things though, so I found ways to include them in my life.

My legal name is Brandon.

Sometimes I worry that all these stories and movies about saving the world are just echoes from the universe, and it’s begging to be saved. and we’re all just lazing around as if nothing is wrong. 
death is terrifying.

I use to not hug people.

I put a scoop of peanut butter in my mac n’ cheese.

I love boxes, and chests and treasure. I want to set up a treasure hunt where people actually have to end up digging it out of the ground somewhere. With a map and clues and everything.

I was born in Germany.

I’m always proud when I make good choices in my dreams.

I don’t think i’ll ever get married or have kids.
Though I always say i’m already married to life.
Til death do we part.

I want to write more. in general. about everything. and me.
I feel like I’ve been forgetting myself.

Breathing. - 4mallory

Hengle was afraid of breathing.
Glad as he was that his body managed to push and pull the invisible fluid in and out of his lungs on it’s own, anytime he became aware of this process occurring the burden of it became a crippling task. Every breath became an outlandish effort.  He’d measure each and every drag he’d take in as if there were a ‘correct’ amount of air needed to survive the next ten seconds. Certainly he would die if he lost track of his breathing.

How did his body do it without him?
His body hadn’t gone to school. His body wasn’t self-aware and intelligent like he was, and yet this strange mass of tissue and blood was still far more efficient, hardworking and responsible than he could ever imagine being. ‘How?’ He thought.
It seemed impossible.

Sometimes he wondered if perhaps he’d gone hours without breathing and never knew.
Maybe breathing was a silly myth only children believed.
Surely he would die if he stopped breathing. Wouldn’t he?
Maybe death was a lie too. 
He had never died before. How could he know it was even possible?
They tell you not to believe everything you see and hear. But what truths did that leave him with?

Hengle didn’t like not knowing anything.

However, he did like thinking about the air as being a very thin fluid. It would make the sky like an ocean above the ocean. 
Hengle wondered if where the sky met outerspace you could see waves of air splashing against the nothingness.

He imagined space boats with space fishermen trying to catch birds under the surface of the atmosphere.
They would dip their feet into the sky and pull them out wet with air.

And that would make Hengle special. He could survive at the bottom of this ocean and stand against the currents that breezed through his hair. He could speak to the other air creatures because he was an air creature.  Space people would be so jealous. They would make movies about what it would be like to live down here. It was a magical place they could never go.
He felt so lucky.

All the while he imagined these silly and fantastical things Hengle had forgotten to keep track of his breathing. 

uhhhhhhhhhhhh

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