Keep Your Fingers Crossed Part 2 Blog #9 (Success-in this part)




What I did with my money should have been my problem, but outside influences always seemed to bombard in. Independency was key. Whatever trouble I should have to face, should be on my own. It was a skill set that extended far above education level, and class line. This was one of the many reasons why I was so mad when I entered the store for the third time. “He” was taking something that was rightfully mine, and could have the potential of a lifetimes work. I peered in before grabbing the metal handle. The darkness outside made it much easier for me to see in…and a lot harder for him to see out. He was reading the numbers in his head. He knew they were the winners of the night. With full force I drove my hand into the door.  I could see he already had started cashing out for the night. 

“Your back,” he exclaimed. 

“My business isn’t done here.” 

He could see the evil look in my eyes. I was waiting for his first move. He had the key to open the door to success. The numbers were indisputable. There was no such thing as cheating in the lottery. Once the numbers were scanned, the statistics were final. His muscles tensed. His jaw was locked. I would make the first move. 

“This can go a lot easier if you just want to turn the Disney Channel machine back on for me.” 

“Like I said sir, we’re getting ready to close for the night.”

“We are getting ready to close for the night? It sure looks like your the only man here if you ask me.”

I made sure to accentuate my words. The realization dawned over the clerk. He knew what he really wanted to do. My back was turned to the man, but I knew he saw my jaw muscles flex into the expression of a slight grin. He started to make his way over in my direction, at least to where I believed I was positioned. For a slight second I directed my eyes to the video camera. The light in the store provided a perfect image back to me on his location. He was as still as the racks holding all the goods in the store. If I did not know any better I might actually have mistook him for one. But I had the upper hand, and he knew he was in the wrong. I kept my cool. The clerk grabbed hold of one of the racks and furiously penetrated it into the tile floor. I stood just as still as he quickly grabbed his things and ran to the back room. I was in here every week, I knew the store just as well as him. I turned in a calmly manner and shouted for him. There was no way out of that back room. He may have believed it was a scapegoat, and a way for me to run out along the backside where he was, just to find it was not an exit. But I knew better now, I knew to stand my grounds. All that could be done was to wait it out. The more time he took…only the more he suffered. I would be successful in getting my ticket because this was the moment of a lifetime I had been waiting for.

I could hear his cries of weakness through the locked door. Empty boxes could also be heard vibrating against one another-this is where he must have been hiding.  He was like one of those cardboard boxes… Full of nothing. He was the color scheme of plain brown, he was going no where. Even though it was a lousy ticket I was trying to get to, I realized it had more significance that I thought did. It was paving the way to the success I would soon encounter. My mind had become fogged, but now was gradually clearing. Keeping my fingers crossed may now have had more importance than ever to what I wanted to do. This ticket would now be giving me a second chance, a way to start over, and giving me even more of a drive to move forward. 

I shook my head, enough of this emotional business for today. I fixed my attention again towards the door.

One last noise… I could hear the cracks as he too began to cross his fingers. 



Analyzing Poetry




Ryan Jennings


 A lifetime can be likened to a lonely beach of sand.
a stranger makes a mark one day, an imprint of a hand.
As time goes by the beach once clear is now a cluttered field
of memories and keep-sakes of the ones that we hold dear.
Time does its best to wash away remembrances of those –
the ones we never meant to meet – the ones we never chose.
But as though some odd twist of fate these are the ones we cherish.
The time we spend with these such friends, will never, ever perish.


  • Read the poem once. Then read it again and find the literal meaning.

A lifetime can be likened to a lonely beach of sand.  Your life is similar to that of a vacant beach.
a stranger makes a mark one day, an imprint of a hand. Just like in your life, when someone first walks on a beach, they leave behind footprints or impressions.
As time goes by the beach once clear is now a cluttered field This once empty beach is now full of all sorts of impressions from all kinds of people.
of memories and keep-sakes of the ones that we hold dear. In this cluster of impressions, the best ones are what we remember.
Time does its best to wash away remembrances of those – The beach and our brain are one in the same as they try to erase bad memories.
the ones we never meant to meet – the ones we never chose. We never really do get to chose who comes into our lives.
But as though some odd twist of fate these are the ones we cherish. But it’s funny how everything happens for a reason, even something that seemingly should have never occurred.
The time we spend with these such friends, will never, ever perish. And it is those occurrences, those impressions, those people, that we remember.


  • Read the poem again to find the connotative meaning of the poem.  “Why this word and not another?”

A lifetime can be likened to a lonely beach of sand. Everything has felt the grip of loneliness at least once. The feel for lack of substance or presence of something greater is universal.
a stranger makes a mark one day, an imprint of a hand. everyone/thing starts off as a stranger. It takes a good leap of faith to chose to make something no longer strange.
As time goes by the beach once clear is now a cluttered field
of memories and keep-sakes of the ones that we hold dear.
Time does its best to wash away remembrances of those – We do what we can to forget our pain, but it’s always subtly somewhere.
the ones we never meant to meet – the ones we never chose.
But as though some odd twist of fate these are the ones we cherish. Our fate as we all know is unpredictable. It has it’s fair shares of twists and turns that may at times astound us.
The time we spend with these such friends, will never, ever perish.


  • Find the poem’s symbolic meaning. “What could this stand for…why?”

 A lifetime can be likened to a lonely beach of sand. The beach itself is obviously not lonely because it can’t have any feelings. Rather, lonely in this context could mean ‘untouched’  by a person
a stranger makes a mark one day, an imprint of a hand.
As time goes by the beach once clear is now a cluttered field Not physically a clutter field. The multiple marks can become so innumerable it can actually be flustering.
of memories and keep-sakes of the ones that we hold dear.
Time does its best to wash away remembrances of those – Time can’t wash away anything. The waves can, and your brain can “wash away” memories from one’s brain. (Although never permanently erasable)
the ones we never meant to meet – the ones we never chose.
But as though some odd twist of fate these are the ones we cherish.
The time we spend with these such friends, will never, ever perish.


What is Luck, Really?

Photo Courtesy of NewtonianNocturn of Deviantart.

While luck is a double faced coin in one sense, it is a one-faced coin in another. There’s good luck, bad luck, high luck, low luck, the list could go on. Like a similar word, fortune, a noun that one might associate with oriental sweets or crystal balls, there is both good luck and bad luck. Good luck typically implies the achievement of good fortune in an instant, whilst bad luck implies poor fortune in an instant. But what is it that makes luck, lucky? After all, luck in itself means almost nothing without a modifier, positive or negative. Why is it that lucky implies positive connotation whilst luck is simply a noun. In the proper sense of the word, lucky would just be one prone to events of fortune, be them bad or good.

In order to find the true meaning of luck, one might start at a dictionary definition. According to the Oxford English Dictionary, luck is “success or failure apparently brought by chance rather than through one’s own actions”. While this looks like a good definition, what does it actually mean? To start, the word chance is a synonym probability, and seeing as probability is defined by math, chance is hardly an ideal choice for a word that is meant to be almost exempt from math, even though ultimately most acts of good luck are the result of factors the human mind is seemingly incapable of processing.

Does this mean luck doesn’t actually exist, then, if this seemingly random function is based clearly in mathematics, a function? It very well could. However, when fortune is factored into the equation, fortune is predetermined, which might mean then that the functions that guide our life are predetermined after all, and we lack the ability to prevent anything, as math has guided our actions the entire time, and we have no say in the matter?

Ultimately, though, it might just come down to a battle of fate versus chance, string theory versus Schrodinger’s cat. Perhaps the world will never know what factors guide our life, but for now, for it is a word and therefore must have a meaning, even if it is as abstract as the meaning of life.

The Double Faced Coin.

There are two fundamental Imagedifferences in the way people look at luck. Sometimes it is a simpler word or representation of the way people see the series of incalculable equations that make up our day-to-day lives work out in one’s favor. Some see it as fortune through a god, or simply as some unknown fate. They see the aspects of life that are simply tiny acts of fortune or misfortune, It is a product of materialism. This is the surface of luck, its dirt-covered face.  However people often forget the deeper, more beautiful side of luck.

Just think, billions upon billions of years ago, some unexplainable explosion spread matter around the universe, tiny little particles being spread farther than we can even begin to conceive. From there, they began to bond, and after a few billion years we had planets, and from there organic proteins, and from there complex molecules, molecules that began to form the very basis of life.  Then came the prehistoric life, before a single human had even walked the earth. Mammals started to show up, and after the Ice Age, the result of a stray space rock impacting the Earth’s surface, humanity began to show up, walking their first steps on the ever receding glaciers of years past. From there we struggled on, through viscous beasts to the Atomic Bomb. The raw chance of humanity existing was so slim, we as a species should not exist. And even so, with the odds ever not in our favor, our planet exists, we exist, and we are still here and we live our ever-so-fortunate lives in the utopia of modern society, with our first-world technology and access to clean water and food. And what a gross over-simplification this is.

So next time you’re outside, gazing up at the stars, think about what must have happened in order for you to exist. Think about luck.

Synonyms of luck:

  • Fortune
  • Chance
  • Fluke
  • Blessing
  • godsend

Antonyms of luck:

  • misfortune

In My Hole


“You will speak to no one, your duties will remain constant with ours, we will succeed for the purpose of only ourselves, you are one of us now.”


Several months prior:

A United States soldier is what I had planned to be. A life of earned respect, and teamwork, is what I had hoped to accomplish. The path I had seemed to place myself in did not agree with my personal values. Being a citizen of the country I grew to know so well vanished, due to my actions that arose at school. I had put those in my past, they should not still have been a part of me. I should have been able to leave that life behind. But it was still chasing me like a hungry wild animal chased its dinner… Oh how I had wanted dinner so bad. I hadn’t had a cooked meal for about 6 months, since I had been shipped overseas. Military school was the only choice, except we were the ones put in combat. My fellow peers stood next to me day by day on the front lines of the fields. Rules did not apply like they did back in CT. Nothing was justified, but nothing could be done. King Essiz exercised dictatorial power over us in a country…heck, I couldn’t even correctly pronounce the name of. If you partook in any activity not assigned, you stuck out like a sore thumb.  It was a shitty situation that I had to live with.


6 months prior:

I opened my eyes to the blaring hot sun projecting its hot rays through my tent. This would be the last time camping. We would be moving underground for the authorities to exercise more power, and for us to be even more isolated. We were stripped to our bare belongings, and it took me less than 1 minute to gather all my “tools.” I call them tools because they meant nothing to me. I would use these objects for their purpose, and that was it. Sounds could be heard approximately 100 ft in distance of others packing up their possessions. There was just enough distance between each of us, for our voices to be muffled. Faint echoes were all I had experienced for those last 6 months, and upcoming 7th. I got into place. I was number 5. Eyes followed me because I was the first in line. All I wanted was to succeed here, so I was able to come out of war alive and be transported back across the seas. I thought nothing of their stares, for I had never even heard any of their voices. The rest trekked over, and stood, their backs erect. Bad posture would result in punishment. King Essiz thrusted his arm over his shoulder, and pointed to our next direction. Words again, were not spoken. Silence was golden-seemed to be their motto. I moved forward after the four in front of me had taken their first step. We were off again on our journey, our next point of interest awaiting us. Later, at around 18:00 hours, we had reached our holes.


“You will rest now, and awake at 06:00 hours. You will NOT, by any circumstances, come out until ordered to. Your duties will remain the same,” were the last words I ever heard Essiz speak, even till this day. Day, or night, I would not know. My new personal safe zone spanned from about the range of 10 m by 10 m in length. Sleep was hard to acquire, with the jagged edges from each rock projecting out of the rocky surface. The sandy bottom would fit to my shape, but it would always make my back tense when I arose. There really was nothing to do down here but wait. If I was actually needed, I would be called.

I could sense echoes. Voices could be heard running from the pebbly surface up to the jagged tips of the cave. “shmump.” People were stepping foot right above my covert. Fragments of stone fell on to my face…something that hadn’t been touched in what felt like forever. Their distant cries moved closer, It was me they were looking for. Figures appeared out of the shadows, their faces-unrecognizable. Each set of eyes aimed down at me and waited for my response.

Search Team: “We have found you, missing person.”

But I did not speak, I was not allowed to.

Search Team: “What is your purpose”

Search team: “…Do you know anything?”

“I know I will speak to no one, my duties will remain constant with yours, and we will succeed for the purpose of only ourselves.”


Blog #2 Success

Success in Business-with my own touch


As I was pondering about what to write in my secondary blog, I stumbled upon this intriguingly designed advertisement. You know, those ones you sneer at on the side of your web browser. The ones that illuminate right as you have visited a new site. You try furiously to click away as they have bugged but one second out of your day. Yet somehow us humans let the little things get to us…But this ad happened to catch my eye. It’s beautifully crafted colors just happened to spark an idea, of a plan of how success can be found in business. It is almost like a blueprint of how a business should run and how it gets processed.

The first step: Create

You have a wonderful idea, but how can it be successful? Your plan should be to come up with the most unique of an idea as possible. This is your time to shine, and anything that goes down-you WILL go down with. This is your work of art. Use it wisely

The second step: Beautiful

You have created your work of art, now make it beautiful. You might say, you have already created your work… Wrong answer. YOU have not done anything. You have not stepped foot out into the business world as an owner at all yet. You have only gotten to step two in the process. I’m trying to reassure you in the most respectful manner possible…no harsh feelings

Step three: Website

Your rounding third base, and your art has become a beaut. If you’ve made it this far… well so have thousands of others. Nothing will set you apart until after the blueprints. Your business is just a work in the making, ready to be taken or copied at any second. Keep your work secretive and remember-one of a kind. Start networking, spread your idea through word of mouth and through the use of websites. You want people to be able to find you.

Step four: Go

You’ve reached all the bases and have taken it all with you. Now don’t stop…GO! You want to be able to run with your idea and don’t back down. A business is not just a business. You should be running right along side it. It is your partner, your friend, someone who only lets you down if you are not loyal to them. This is your one moment, your one opportunity, would you take it? Or just let it slip…