Sunday, March 29, 2009

Does this look infected to you?

Being sick is so annoying. Well, not really, you get special treatment. Not having inhibitions is annoying. When I'm sick I can't control what I'm saying. Often I'll just ramble about my deepest worries and fears in life to unsuspecting passers-by. Like my mother, or my girlfriend. I once told my mom about how cool it would be to have a trenchcoat! She eventually told my dad and they made a huge deal of it... I forget what it's all about now.

Anyway, another cool thing happens when I'm sick though: I have awesome, insane dreams! Like, on Friday night I slept for thirteen hours and had three dreams. The weirdest, went something like this:
It was PE class at school, only it wasn't at Gunderson, it resembled John Muir, my middle school, more. At John Muir, beyond the gym and the attached locker rooms, there's a section of concrete basketball courts, an expanse of grass large enough for about a baseball field and two more backstops, and across from four tennis courts, a swimming pool. All my friends were there, even some kids I didn't go to middle school with, and we had to climb a fifteen foot chain-linked fence to warm up.
On the other side of the fence, we proceeded into classrooms that were not ours, like open house day only we were the parents. In one of the classrooms, Mrs. Miller was teaching a class full of first-graders. Half of them were sitting patiently at their desks, and the other half were riding this sort of curved, piano keyboard slide, sitting atop the black keys. As we stepped into the classroom, Mrs. Miller unbuckled a girl who had finished playing on the slide, and strapped in a boy with blonde hair. She pushed him through these velvet teeth at the foot of the slide and he teleported to the top, as the girl who was done playing took his desk and obediently waited for her turn again. We marveled at this spectacle for a few minutes before filing into some empty desks at the back of the class.
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You're right, I'd have to say supermarkets depress me more than any other setting in my life. I go in and consume mindlessly like cattle for the sole purpose of surviving long enough to do the same thing later, while working for something that's meaningless to me in the first place. And they wonder why America has such high suicide rates. It's because we've established such a big comfort zone for ourselves that living has almost no meaning. It's easy, it's boring, it serves no greater purpose.

It's A Youtube Comment
And I Feel Like I Should Write It Down Somewhere
So I Don't Forget About It.

Still not as efficient as the iPod in my head.

I really like this website called Jango.com [/shameless plug] because it reminds me of the old Yahoo music player I used to listen to that would play song's I like, when I rank them by how much I like them. It's like a TiVo (Did I spell that right?), only it judges your musical taste and figures out what you would like to listen to.

Well, when I first got a Jango account, some of the first songs that came up were by Radiohead, then Oasis, then this artist whose last name seemed french, because I had rated Radiohead first. The two Oasis songs to play were Wonderwall and Champagne Supernova, both songs that I liked. I only like those two songs from them though! Even though I've rated a lot more artists, every now and then I get like three Oasis songs in a row! I'm afraid to just remove them though, it might affect the way the songs show up in my playlist...

Friday, March 20, 2009

The difference between boys and girls.

Today, Mom and Dad took Sean and I to Golfland to play in the arcade. My favourite games there are pinball machines, Galaga, any Time Crisis, and The House of the Dead series, in that order too.
Pinball went rather smoothly. On the first machine I tried, the bumpers would not bounce the pinball. On the second machine, the pinball got stuck and I went for someone to get it unstuck; He followed me to the machine, tapped it on the side, and the ball popped right out! He gave me a free game too (I had lost mine because I tried to fix it myself and the machine went TILT). I won four free games as a result of playing that gift. Needless to say, I was quite smug, even though pinball is almost forgotten.
Next, I played Galaga. It costs a quarter more to play Galaga at Golfland than it does to play Galaga at the Century Theater in Oakridge because it's an older machine, I guess. Also because it's older, you can only fire two bullets at a time, unlike the Oakridge one that lets you fire as many bullets as fast as you can mash the button. All this means I play worse, and when I play worse, this happens:

"Number of Hits: 39/ Bonus: 3900"

That's what the screen says when you've played a challenge stage and at the end of the stage, you've shot thirty-nine of the forty enemies on the screen. The difference between hitting 39 enemies and hitting 40 enemies is that you only get 3900 points instead of 10,000. I was rather dissatisfied with myself.
About Time Crisis, I will be brief. I tried to play it, but it only counted one of the three tokens I put in to play. I pressed the red button to give me my tokens back, but it failed so I walked away.
One of the guns on The House of the Dead was broken, the first one I used. Undeterred, I noticed that someone had left me a free game, so I used the blue gun. However, when I arrived at the first boss, Mom walked over to me and I died.
Then we left Golfland.

"Breathe."

Hey I'm writing a blog so I don't fail English and I can get in an honors class and not feel like a failure and I have to keep up and stay away from girls they're just distractions and they keep me from my real goals and no one wants a loser and I should have this many credits and I have reports and projects and tests on top of regular homework but my math teacher cut us a break but it gets harder I've heard and it's the most stressful point in your life I've heard but no one wants a loser and it's okay it's okay things will just take a little longer. You're not far off, it's fixable. Relax, hon. Breathe.

(10 points?)

Tuesday, March 10, 2009

This guy was bald, he had a goatee, tanktop, sunburned. I knew I was in trouble, this guy fought the sun!

Soldier's Poem
By Muse

Throw it all away
Let's lose ourselves
'Cause there's no one left for us to blame
It's a shame we're all dying
And do you think you deserve your freedom

How could you send us so far away from home
When you know damn well that this is wrong
I would still lay down my life for you
And do you think you deserve your freedom

No I don't think you do
There's no justice in the world
There's no justice in the world
And there never was


Since the song's so short, I thought I'd just post it here for reference. The text doesn't really capture the feeling though, because on the CD it's sung like in a barbershop quartet.. except there's only three bandmembers. But anyway, anyway..

I first heard this song in eighth grade, when I had to write a speech about something political. The entire time I was supposed to be writing, I fantasized about just reading the poem in front of the class, completely convinced that Mr. Jacobs would never find out. Long before the due date, I had frightened myself out of the idea, and I had nothing to present. In a split second I decided to just wing it and I'd like to say it went well. I failed the assignment, but to me, this one song seemed more important than any of the standards I had failed to learn in his class.

Monday, March 9, 2009

Who's watching The Watchmen? (SPOILER WARNING)

Wow. Watchmen. I don't think I've felt so violently in quite a while. I had to think twice about everything that happened, because a later event would change my previous assumption. Like, what happened to The Comedian. After everyone revealed what he had done in those private, last respects, I'd abandoned what little sympathy I had for him. Halfway through the movie, Raw(r) Shack made me understand what had made him that way. The Comedian chose to take all of Man's deepest impurities and magnify them so intensely that he became a sick parody of life. But he was one of the goodguys!
And every character was so complex in this way; no one was perfect and no one was purely evil. They all had real flaws we could see in each other every day, those people we're supposed to trust to be our saviours.
I have so much more to write but I fear it's beyond my level of coherency at the moment. I don't think I'll find I've made sense or just spewed mindless chatter until I read this all tomorrow.

They may lure you into a rather luxurious coma.

Diamond Leash

I saw a dead tree,
Twisted, limbs reaching
For sustenance.
I looked behind me
And, reassured,
I thought,
"I can't die that way."
Still,
I felt sorry for the tree.
But I could not spare any sunlight.

I saw a clown,
Twirling, desperately searching
For an innocent heart
To give warmth too.
Finding none,
He was reduced to tears.
I looked behind me
And, reassured,
I thought,
"I can't crumble that way."
Still,
I felt sorry for the clown,
But I had not known a pure heart myself.

I saw two crows
Picking at the corpse
Of a poor man,
His arms still
Held outward, pleading.
I looked behind me
And, reassured,
I thought,
"I can't be forgotten that way."
Still,
I felt sorry for the man,
But I knew a quarter would be of no use to him now.

Besides, I had already spent
All of my money
On this diamond leash.
I looked back and-
Hm.
I knew it felt lighter...

This lullaby.

I suppose listening to music until I fell asleep was a ritual that died shortly after my first girlfriend left me. Almost every night, I would listen to this CD that she burned for me from one of my favorite bands, Radiohead. I liked this specific album though because it was noticeably gentler than their others. The slow, rhythmic melodies combined with Thom's soft voice would soothe all my petty worries until I was brain-dead, finally able to rest.
Anyway, in the ensuing series of empty arguments following our break-up, I learned that she hadn't burned it for me, that it was actually her sister's CD. Some of the tracks are missing. The songs that are on the silver disk aren't in the right order, the order that Radiohead wanted them in.
She hates them. Says they don't have any energy, says that listening to them always makes her want to fall asleep, and that's a bad thing. I don't mean to put her in a bad light, I just can't get any sleep.

What's in a name?

I read a friend's blog, well sort of just skimmed over it because I thought I had read it before (I had) and when I got to a part that was like "BURRITO BURRITO BURRITOOO!" I read it,"BURT BURT BURTTT!" After realizing it, I remembered all the times I had felt resentment towards people who heard my name and responded,"BURT BURRITO HAHA YOUR NEW NAME IS BURRITO NOW *CACKLE CACKLE* I'M GONNA GO STICK MY HEAD IN THE MICROWAVE!"

Okay, yea, I embellished the last bit, but maybe they should have. Or at least suffered a mild brain aneurysm...

For some reason, karma seems to be the only thing able to make me feel remorse now..

Sunday, March 8, 2009

Shiny thing go "boom!"

Blue Jacket

The blue jacket still,
Kind of,
Smells like you,
But It also smells,
Kind of,
Like rainwater.
Like the kind of rainwater
That makes puddles.
That makes spending
Every day with you,
Sun, or rain, or fog,
More enjoyable
Than the last.

Why did the chicken cross four lanes of traffic and an agry mother-in-law to reach the other side of the road?

In a way, it's kind of nice that my English homework is so easy. Anytime I'm out somewhere doing something, it counts as doing homework as long as I post it up here!

Over the weekend I:
-slept until noon on the couch.
-lied in bed for two more hours, just staring at the ceiling, listening to the same CD on repeat.
-bought a video game and still haven't gone halfway through it.
-laughed, cried, and got angry at The Watchmen.
-had not a single piece of vegetables, except maybe lettuce on a burger.

And you don't have to care at all! Marvelous!