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Ethan_Emissary
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Name: Ethan
Birthday: 11/15/1987
Gender: Male
Interests: Writing, reading and study hold a great deal of interest for me, history and english being my two most favorite school subjects.
I enjoy soccer above all other organized sports, closely followed by basketball. But soccer is first, definitely.
All outdoor activites such as rockwall climbing, hiking, swimming, canoeing... you name, I probably love it.
But my number one interest will always be getting closer to God and being his emissary to every nation, tribe and tongue.
Expertise: I am highly experienced in being too proud and grating on people because of it. You must excuse me in this regard.
I am a non-licensed piano technician, which is an interesting trade, if a little monotonous at times.
My expertise also includes making any and ALL strikers on the soccer field VERY sorry they ever even THOUGHT about trying to get the ball past THIS defender. *cracks knuckles* VERY sorry.
But, I'm really not and expert on much besides a little strange.
Occupation: Student
Industry: Other
Message: message meEmail: email me
Website: visit my website
Member Since:
7/7/2004
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| The first paragraph of a letter I recieved on Monday from poetry.com;
"Dear Ethan,
After carefully reading and discussing your poem, our Selection Committee has certified your poem as a semi-finalist in our International Open Poetry Contest. Your poem will automatically entered into the final competition held in July 2005. As a semi-finalist, you now have an excellent chance of winning one of 104 cash or gift prizes--including the $1,000.00 Grand Prize. We wish you the best of luck as you compete for these prizes in the coming weeks."
So. As if that weren't mind-blowing enough, the second paragraph;
"In celebration of the unique talent that you have displayed, we also wish to publish your poem on its own page in our most recent and promising collections of poetry, Eternal Portraits. Scheduled for publication in Fall 2005, Eternal Portraits will be a classic, coffee-table quality hardbound volume--printed in two colors on fine-milled paper specifically selected to last for generations."
The fluff and obvious flattering aside, the rest of the letter continued, stating what that one just said. Not only did the poem I entered make it to the International Semi-Finals, but also was selected for publication. To remain copyrighted in my name.
The phrase, "..." comes to mind.
A friend had entered a poem on poetry.com and told me about it. On a whim, I just copied and pasted that poem Wandering that I put on this same xanga a few months previously, changed a few of the lines and the title, recasting it as Shades of Strife. You can go to http://www.poetry.com and look up Ethan Isaac May and find it.
It was so odd. I just did it for kicks.
And then I got a letter and my first publishing opportunity.
The upcoming trip to Jacksonville, FL for Botball Nationals is fast approaching, and I've got work. So, I need to get some sleep.
Feeling a little like an author,
-Ethan | | |
| To elaborate on my plans just a tad;
I will travel mostly on foot, on bike, or by train for most of the voyage. Some of the most important destinations for me lie in France (Paris, Marseille), Italy (Venice, Florence), as well as many castles that may be found in Germany. But in regards to travel to Japan; I will take the Trans-Siberian Railway, which stretchs across the length of Russia to Japan. And it will be mandatory to take a boat from Japan to South America.
But I left out one other destination that must, and I do mean MUST, be visited. And that is India. If you don't know why, then I don't feel inclined to explain. But if you have seen anything, watched anything, or read anything regarding the jungle country of India, you must understand. The history, the beauty...
-makes a big red circle around India in permanent marker-
MUST.
Today was my best friend Corey's 18th birthday. Even though you rarely, if ever, read my zhanga, here's a shout out to you, man. Hardcore, 'till the end.
Yesterday, I logged a 14 hour work day. Yes, it was pain, but I made over 150 dollars. So you will hear this much complaining from me.
...
...
...
See? That much. Which is the same as none.
But now I am far too tired to do anything more than go to bed.
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| A throbbing independent spirt is screaming in my chest, bursting my eardrums with one, aching shout,
"Don't wake up and wonder why you didn't."
It's a big world.
Wouldn't it be nice to see it all?
Sometime, probably before I turn twenty-four, I will make a trip that will take me across the face of Europe, traveling however I can wherever I can, from the west end to the east. I will take one small piece of something from each country, as I reminder of the land I trod. By foot, by bike, or by train, I will traverse it.
And then I will find my way to the island of Japan to walk from one end to the other. From it I will take nothing less than a blade. This I will ship home.
From there I will take transport by boat or plane to South America. In this land, my journey will take me north, ultimately leading up through Central America to the States.
It's too big to not go and see some of it.
I played three games of basketball in a tornament today, in a gym with no air-conditioning, while outside it was a solid 100 degrees. Sweat would not evaporate because of the insane humidity, so it clung to you and ran off you onto the floor. It made one over-heat and totally sap energy.
Nonetheless, we played and enjoyed ourselves. I was voted one of the two team captains this year.
To conclude; life is too short to not live full-throttle. | | |
| Last night I completed my second song.
It has a far more soothing and wavering melody than the previous composition, and it has more lyrical depth. I don't know if I am able to, but if I discover some way to record it, I will endeavor to get it up here so you guys can listen to it.
But that may never happen. So don't get your hopes up too high (right, like they were way up there anyway).
If I look down at my hands now, a see large, thicked calluses that have not existed to such a degree in all of my life. They are largely unfeeling to the touch, and are rather rough to the touch. And I am fascinated by them. They are badges of labor, ugly and uncouth, but somehow honorable and fulfilling. They testify that I'm not just kidding myself, but that work has been done to earn them.
I'm having difficulty making time to write. It seems like I am swamped with projects, like preparing for Botball trip to Jacksonville, Florida (which includes renovations on the robots themselves, designing and making our own team t-shirts, which I am in charge of, gathering money, etc.), further work on the yard (which includes several hundred more pounds of mulch and bark that need spread in various places, plus the clearing out of the trash tress, tall bushes, and shrubery along our old concrete wall so that we can plant a hedge of short, fir-like trees), plus working for my Uncle Mark and my father (which includes full days of work on Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday for my uncle, and I'm working on replacing all of the bass strings on a piano for my dad, which is a time consuming and important task which will bring in important funds for the family).
On top of all this is my sporting activities. This week, I'm getting together with my basketball team for a mid-summer tournament which will be all day on Thursday, that I forgot to get work off for until today, which put undue stress upon the lady at the office. So that puts a weight of guilt on me, adding to my overall stress.
And then, my younger brothers Jared and Jesse along with myself are scrimaging a squad of U-16 girls who are practicing for their upcoming 3v3 tournament this weekend. So we're scrimaging them both tomorrow night and on Thursday night.
This final activity is the one I am probably enjoying the most because, 1) It's soccer. 2) I'm friends with most of the girls, 3) Because the girl's coach [who I know pretty well] specifically asked me and my brothers to play them, which is like calling on the May legacy to prove itself. 'Cause the May's are known for being fairly good soccer players in our area, and my pride demands I defend this image with great vigor. And 4) 3v3 play is some of the most intense and most enjoyable soccer a player can ever experience. It is extremely fast and calls on all of your speed and abilities to sprint and pass and fake around the space. It is nothing short of absolutely enthralling, and I delight in every minute of it. Plus, my brothers and I play together fairly well, except that Jesse and I usually argue while we are playing about what the other should or should not have done. Heh. It's actually kind of amusing.
::sigh::
But that is a lot that needs done in one week, and a lot to concentrate on. Plus, like I said, I'm trying to find time to write in the midst of all of this, and it's just crazy. And when I do find the time to work on my novel, I end up writing song lyrics. Not necessarily wasted, but not what I'm trying to do at that moment.
Gah. My life is running faster than I care to compete with. But I can't stop working 'cause I desperately need braces before the summer is out, my team is counting on me in both Botball and basketball, my family needs me to help with the yard, and I simply must defend the family's honor on the soccer field.
-grin-
And, as though all this weren't enough, I'm on the crest of another of those hormonal waves. Which is really miserable, given all that's going on. I'm like, "I don't need this. I don't need to be thinking, 'Man, I really like a girlfriend. Like, a LOT,' while all this is going down."
But unfortunately, my hormones do not greatly care what my schedule looks like.
To those who know what I'm talking about; yes, I'm reading your story and will try to get back to you as soon as I have a breath. I have not forgotten the pictures. And no, you did not see me streaking down your sidewalk the other night.
-shifty look-
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