Owl City Dedication Song! (:

http://soundcloud.com/chasin/owl-city-dedication-song    Dedicated to Adam Young. (:

EP (:

http://soundcloud.com/chasin/sets/instrumentals-451 My First EP. Enjoy. (:

Michael Davis- Presenting and Representing

Check it!

The Sun Shouts Hello (Instrumental)

Latest Instrumental (:

Michael Davis- Untitled

Enjoy. (:

Five Finger Death Punch- Far From Home

Etienne Sin- Kiss Through The Veil

Wake Me If You're Out There

Struck Out

The ball flung through the air, swinging and spinning vigorously like the roll of white collecting decadent cotton candy through the machine, in which children so thoroughly enjoy. But this wasn't the carnival. This was baseball. The eyes dazzled of my peers as they gazed at the leather wrapped object, piercing the sky, and to some, they even imagined it caught fire. I had to admit, it was a great shot. The kind of swing we all envied.


The cage had several holes, as it was weaved, though the young ones liked to stick their stubby, pink fingers through it. Maintaining its special qualities wasn’t too difficult. The booth wear the players sat smelled of dust covered water bottles and sunflower seeds. It was odoriferous and obvious to us all. 
Again, adding to the special qualities. As he slipped his batting gloves on and twisted his knuckles, the spring in his step was portrayed well, as he marched slenderly forward. The glint in his eye caught my attention; I figured much determination was present.  He tipped his cap downward, and continued having a staring contest with the sun. He whispered to it. Sounded like fighting words to me. The devilish smile never left his smug face. 


Switching batters now, he was up. He strode on, towards that beautiful diamond in which so many feet have trampled upon. And everyone leaned to the front of their seats in the stands due to their anticipation. Anxiety hung in the air as much as the sand did, the sun again glaring down at the players, set in position on the field. He lifted his bat as high as his spirits, and all eyes on the pitcher. 


Crack!  The ball flew again. It seemed everyone was hitting except me. In fact, I haven’t gotten a hit all year. My swings never registered, they never went through. It seemed like everyone was way better than me. Oh wait, that’s because everyone IS way better than me. Go figure. I was gaudy, and definitely with a stature below my age group. I was disfigured, and uncoordinated. Scrawny and a little dull. I preferred to think, rather than do. I’m not a “do” guy. I don’t really don’t recall why I joined the team. I don’t even like sports. Maybe I was feeling nostalgic, maybe I was missing something, or maybe I just wanted something to prove. Whatever it was, I didn’t have much time to think about it. While I was dozing off, and the other players, including my brother, were spitting their seeds, I didn’t actualize I was next in line to bat. 

They scooted me out to the home diamond and I looked at my feeble hands, gripping the bat handle with might. It seemed instantaneous, but The pitcher took a deep breath, and swung at me. I swear the ball glared at me, as it was on it's way to hit me, so I freaked. I leaped, and squealed, scrambling to my feet and was horrified to justify I was outside the chalk lines we called the batter's box. I stepped back in, nervous as hell. 


The rest of the night seemed to slip from me. It was the first strike, second pitch, and third time I slapped myself awake. This is surreal. I didn't have time to collect my thoughts before the second pitch was complete, and I found myself out of the box again, I kept jumping. By now, you know somebody would say something, certainly the coach would. He grabbed me by the air and whispered ferociously in my ear; explaining to me that if I did not make this hit, that I would have to run ten laps around the whole field. Not just the diamond, but the field.  


And the punishment seemed reasonable. Bottom of the ninth, bases loaded, last pitch of the game, and I was the batter. I mean, I was the WORST on the team. There was no sugar-coating it. I haven't hit all year, or even caught a ball. I hated my reason for joining: I missed it. How can you miss something you were so horrible at? It didn't make any sense to me. Third pitch, and I couldn't believe it. I was out of the box again. But I struggled so hard, why is this happening? What did I do to deserve this? I haven't a clue as to what. 


I blinked, and our team was exchanging "good game" pats on the back with theirs. And after that I took off running, around the field, that is.Ten laps. Ten reasons I shouldn't have started this. I lost the championship game. For all of us.

FedEx Truck-- Test Vlog

Test Vlog.