North Fort Myers High School - Lance Yearbook (North Fort Myers, FL)

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MODERN MAN Modern man is caught up in a game: Who's better than who, who wins the fame. He is always striving to improve, Studying hard and always on the move. There is no time for caring or sharing. Even if he manages to start a family, He ends up tired and lonely Because love loses out over money. He is willing to do what it takes, No matter the cost or how fake. 1440 WILL I FIT? Yet there are those who have the secret To love and success, and how to keep it. Others look on with a jealous eye, Wanting the secret before they die. This man is not afraid to shed a tear, For fear of a snicker ora snear. He loves people and always cares His feelings and emotions are beyond compare. He will always be the lucky one, Standing proud for what he's done. I am a fragment of a vast puzzle, hopelessly drowned by my counterparts, yet vaguely aware. That somehow I belong. One in 1600 pieces, all fitting yet all unique. My color is a lonely color. My size is an insignificant size. My shape is an ordinary shape. Alone I am nothing. But when snapped into place I am a component - a necessary part. I am vital to the intricate puzzle. But where do I fit? I must search out my appropriate place. My solitude cracks its shell and I expose myself to the parts surrounding me. I watch and observe these parts and begin to scribble rough impressions onto my mind. I venture into the vast puzzle, gaining confidence and meaning as I progress. Suddenly I am engulfed by a flood of acquaintances, profiting from all of them, but reaching out only to those with whom I seem to fit. I have experienced a new feeling through friendship: an undefinable warmth. I learn from experience. With my friends I grasp every opportunity to try something new: to grow. I am collecting a scrapbook of memories to glance through in some empty moment of the future, to reopen tothe fullness I am living at the present. lfeel through involvement: the excitement of an autumn game, the anticipation ofa candidate, the strain of competition, the throb in defeat, the relief of receiving a club bid, the pride in a successful production, the heartiness ofa half-time show, the freedom in dancing, the thrill of success. I am one. You are one. Together we are not two, but one. I am anxious to give what I can - an idea, some talent, a lot of patience, many hours. In return I receive and grow and mature. I search out that which suited me best. I learn only through experience. I feel only through involvement. One in 1660 pieces all fitting, yet all unique. There will be a new puzzle next year and the next, and the next. But never will it be the same, for never will there be the same combination and blending of individuals. Never will there be another 1984. Excalibur

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5 it 3 3 23' E 52 As L32 Q45 Ea 3 522 T14 is 2 s 2 ' '- 1 ,L , f-mm 'm mu 1,112 'TT' 'T'- Excalibur , J ! C4 A ff ' ,- 1 Q! ,f 0 l A .4 im, v Q' W TO STUDY OR NOT TO STUDY To study, or not to study, that is the question. Whether it is nobler to your parents to suffer the dateless nights and headaches, Or to take arms against a sea of falling grades, and by opposing end them? To study: to be dedicated. no more, and by a dedication to say we end the anticipation and the two worried parents that we are heir to. 'Tis a problem devoutly to be wish'd to end, to solve itself, to solve itself: perchance to learn 'ay, there is the rub: For in that solving of itself what we may learn when we have cast off the ambitious drive Must give us chance, there's the problem that makes us sad in the future. For who can bear the whips and scorns of no education.

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If -25:5 gs. +il S... 1 lil rf -'viii 6 r, ft- -5, 4 it -V i z 95 Ag i i , . ' 's. l r itil? ?lzr1 ,. was 5. sb-ard S 23 seg IN THE DARK OF THE NIGHT Outside there was a ferocious storm pounding outside the window with a fearful force. Wattson was watching television at the late hour of 2 o'clock in the morning. His wife was asleep upstairs and the children were away for the weekend visiting their grandparents. In two days it would be Halloween and there had been rumors going around the neighborhood about a pyscho- killer called Dark Night roaming around the streets and killing and terrifying people. Mr. Wattson didn't believe it, but he was a little shaken up by the thought. As he sat there watching television he heard a sound at the door. He got up and looked out the window. He then peeked through the door to see if anyone was there. He opened up the door, but only cold air blew in. He cutoff the t.v. and went into the kitchen to get something to drink. He soon heard a sound at the window. lt was the same sound he heard before at the door. He looked out the window, but there was nothing there. Probablyjust a branch, he said. His wife came downstairs and asked if he was coming to bed. He said, Right now. They fell asleep, but soon were awakened by a loud noise at the door. Wattson got up and went downstairs to see. He opened the door and the Dark Nightjumped at him, knocking him down. He was soon helped up by the Dark Night and saw it was his twin brother, Troy, from Boston coming to visit him. 51303 pf Aol,-l-Llsonl TV AND HE The TV screen glows with movement, trying to hold the attention of its last and youngest view of the day. The boy watches with a combination of emotions glowing in his eyes. He loves this friend of his, the TV, his escape. He wishes that the two of them could run away together, away from all of a young one's possible problems. He watches with such concentration and interest. He says to himself lf only. . Suddenly he disappears. But, look on the screen, there he is! He has become part of the television, how unusual! He could escape this way. The inner TV has become his dream world. He walks further into the distance of a kitchen, where a floor wax commercial is taking place. lt changes, the scenery becomes a world of rainbows, sunshine, and fruit trees everywhere. Then the boy appears on a silky cotton cloud and begins to walk on it. He comes to one that attaches to the rainbow, and he slides Mzzzz Excalibur MICHELLE CORE down, landing in a pond of cool, refreshing water, with lily-pads floating on top. Hejumps out and begins to run on the healthy green hills of grass and fields, being careful not to step on all the beautiful flowers. He plays and plays in the warm sun, and picks flowers, and seems to have no trouble filling his time with things to do. He wanders back to the pond to take a drink and sips until his thrist is quenched. He feels rather tired, so he decides to rest under a shady apple tree. Lying under it, he feels a gentle rain falling. lt feels nice. He relaxes and falls asleep. He hears a buzzing noise and decides to open his eyes, to find the fuzzy snow of the TV and the clock telling him that it is way past his bedtime. He pulls himself up, and takes one last glance at the now black television. He realizes that everything was just a dream. Wandering towards his room, he mumbles, lf only . .