"C'mon, you know your tired."
"But I can't."
"You know, if you don't go to sleep now, you'll end up staying up past three and waking up at two-thirty, though you won't ever really wake up, you'll spend the other ten hours in a daze and-"
"I just can't. Oh there's so much to do, so much to do.."
"Like what?"
".... I don't know yet."

I was walking and my shadow caught my attention. I liked the way it made my legs look, all trim and healthy, but it left every part of my body that was above the waste horrifically disfigured. I wondered if I twisted myself a certain way and waited long enough for the sun to cast my shadow at a more desirable angle, if I could look completely perfect. Of course, I could just wait for the sun to burn out.

I have a scab on my lip
that I think used to be a zit
but I picked at it too much.
It bothers me enough
to keep picking at it
and if I pick at it enough
it peels away
but the air stings my flesh.
I poke and nudge the exposed skin
until the stinging goes away
or I find a better excuse of my time.

Your daily dose of depression

It's really weird: sometimes I'm swept by these waves of sadness and when I peer deep into the crevices of my limbic cortex all I find is songs on the radio. I search deeper and come up with kittens, then random movies. Soon I'm all spaced out and sort of just absorb all the words and sounds and every stimulus I can find, then I don't feel so blue anymore. I'd just like, just for once, to remember what I was thinking in the first place.

Blog to (hopefully) contain all random thoughts on today, Thursday, the eighteenth of December, year two-thousand and eight

Poor Caylee. They've found a body and they're waiting for the autopsy results. For some reason, I had a feeling that she was gone long ago.
Now, this is a horrible case and I realize that a lot of people feel very passionately about it, but do they have to have an update every day when there's no new information? During the first month or so, I was thinking about Caylee's family and I thought that they could not possibly be liking this. I thought it would be hard, missing someone and literally seeing their face everywhere you turn. And this news is important to her close family, and the people involved in the trial and such, but does anybody else really deserve an opinion? If anyone has one, it's what the media has anyway, so it's obvious to everyone else that you're thinking exactly the same as they are.
Then, what really hits me is that people get all worked up over a missing white child, when this sort of thing has happened before and no one made such a fuss. It's like, until CNN put a face on child abduction, no one really cared. And everyone will gladly voice their redundant opinion, but only a small percentage of those people will act on it.
And if all this is true then you're talking just to hear yourself talk right? Or else you want everyone to know that you dislike child abduction, that it's a terrible, terrible thing? Well if that's all agreed upon then, that it's a terrible thing and that it happens all the time, then shall we move on?

The Curious Case of Benjamin Button written by F. Scott Fitzgerald, turned out to be a great book. The only problem I had with it was that it's so short (roughly 26 pages, one sided), that a few of the characters aren't entirely developed. Though the film adaptation may be longer than the book, I don't feel that will necessarily be a bad thing. The cast certainly looks well enough to meet my expectations; Brad Pitt fills my mental image of Benjamin Button perfectly. Definitely worth your dollar.

And, Christmas is only seven days away! I hope I'll be able to sleep on Christmas' Eve. I haven't been good about that the past few years. Maybe because of all the hot chocolates and cookies and sweets? No, it must be insomnia :P

I got a cool, blue plaid jacket today. It has plaid, thermal pockets.
I also found a white chain lying on the floor near the mall and decided to give it a home. Now, that home was supposed to be on my wall, but alas, laziness prevails. I'll get around to it sometime during the break. Sometime after sleeping in, I shall hang it neatly below my band posters.

Fun Test Thing [ +5 for origonality! ]

Haha I don't care if I get points for this or not.
I tried this the first time and it utterly failed.. like I couldn't answer at least four of the questions haha.
So here's take two. A few of the names are obviously computer-generated...

1. If Evan and Marissa teamed up, what would they most likely accomplish?
O.O I'd rather not think about it... It would probably be something like War of the Worlds only with more giant Robert Trujillos crab-walking people to death.

2. What song could be Ashley's theme song?
"do dee do Transformers. Robots in disguiseee." :P

3. What is or would be a good nickname for Alyssa?
Blue-eyed she devil! I'm watching you...

4. Have you ever been in Kim's house?
Once or twice. We watched House!

5. Who's She-Ra dating?
Lars, Prince of Shlarganovia.

6. Marissa just got vaporized in a freak accident. Now what?
Ahhh poor Garrett :[ (....how many freak accidents involve vaporization?)

7. Who would be a better superhero sidekick between Eliysha and Marissa, and why?
Eliysha! Because she wouldn't fit anywhere else in the quiz xD

8. What would you do if Alex and a Disney prince were going out?
I dunno, give them a cookie?

9. What is one thing a girl isn't exactly made for?
Urinals? Only thing I could come up with.

10. A Disney prince is actually Kim in disguise, you know.
Ahh Kim and Alex are dating? and my mother's a man?!

And on a more random note...

I've just realised that if you hit the tiny blue preview button on the corner of your posting box and you click on the title section of the post, you can effectively type in real time! Like, as you type, words appear on the preview! I must have typed "I like waffles" ten or twenty times before I remembered that it was supposed to be a serious post...

The Intriguing Tale of Edward Edmonton

The only movie I'm looking forward to seeing this Christmas is The Curious Case of Benjamin Button because it seems like it's the only film that wasn't made specifically for Christmas. Then again, my only other options are a remake and two "feel good movies" But I'll save those rants for later.
The Curious Case of Benjamin Button is about a boy named Benjamin who's born an old man and as he ages, he seems to become younger. It's kind of like that Robin Williams movie from the times of olde, only in reverse and presumably more enjoyable. Benjamin falls in love with a girl named Daisy and the two sort of have to deal with this peculiarity as she ages and he grows young.
I think I'm mostly curious to see what happens when the two become middle-aged. Better yet, what happens to Benjamin when he actually reaches 80 years? Does he die an infant? Well, it's supposed to be based on a short story by F. Scott Fitzgerald so I really won't have to wait for Christmas day to find out. After, I guess I'll decide if it's worth watching.

Christmas Trees.

I honestly don't think it's such a huge sin to chop down a tree once a year and decorate it for a child's amusement. It brings so much joy and wonder into the room! Sometimes, I can wake up feeling lousy, but when I reach the foot of my stairs and stare at this wonderful cone of bright pink, blue, and green lights, it sort of slaps me awake. I'm like "Oh yea today's supposed to be a good day!" If I ever stare at a plastic or inflatable tree for that long, it's only because I'm wondering who buys those.
Why didn't people fight the companies that cut down trees to print dirty magazines?

I am Jack's smirking revenge.

Often, I find it interesting to think of people as nameless and faceless: just gray figures bending in unimaginable ways and speaking about nothing absolutely. This is most enjoyable during my P.E. period, when we're all grouped in two's or three's with other gray figures, before we all fall in line for roll call and daily movement. If you think of everyone as void of a personality, almost everything seems mundane, the rest oddly disturbing. Gray figures moving by choice or coercion or sometimes choosing to be forced to move, to be compelled to benefit themselves. We have to do this because we can't do it ourselves and often it isn't that we don't enjoy it, but that we don't enjoy being told what to do. Are we completely incapable of keeping ourselves in good health? Do we have to be told to live?

So today in my 5th period, the class discussed the positive and negative effects of purging the East Side Union High School District's entire sports program, and how that action may indirectly affect Gunderson. Teacher brought up the point that, if they cut out sports, we would see an increase in dropouts and criminal activity ie. vandalism both gang-related and not. When those who participated in after school sports were asked if they would still maintain a basic 2.0 gpa or higher without sports to motivate them, only a few raised their hand in agreement. Student elaborated that he would still try his best to succeed at whatever he does. Teacher responds that not everyone is self-motivated. Many people require some sort of external-motivation.

I questioned not only what I do but why I do it. I suppose some days I feel like just getting through the day, so I do whatever I'm told just so it ends sooner. Other days I feel like really overachieving, but then I become too critical of everything I do so that nothing gets done. This mindset has sort of placed me snuggly between complacient and ambitious: on the brink of average. Nothing draws me in everyday, but then again, no one's really pushing me either. My grades aren't extraordinary, but then again, not much is expected either. "Then what is motivating me," I ask myself. I believe the answer is equal to fish.

I am Jack's unnoticeable indecision.

Chain-eating grapes.

Boy, whenever my parents buy grapes or baby carrots, I usually have to pour a portion into a bowl so that I don't just down the whole bag in one large, sit-down binge. They make me feel much better than when I stuff my face with Dorritos because they're sweet and they don't make you thirsty. So, really, eating healthier compliments laziness just as much as unhealthy food does. I mean, it's a lot easier to prepare an apple than to microwave a burrito. I think it would even take me longer to open a bag of chips than to wash a piece of fruit. Besides that, it leaves you with natural energy. Except, now I've eaten too much and have a little queasy stomach .-.

Ah Muse... so relaxing....

Incredible. They're singing about apocalypse and revolution, yet all my troubles are just being swept away, into the clouds and above, past the exosphere, past the planets, out of the milky way and past other galaxies, past heaven and hell. And I have so much to happy about. Thank you, Muse for allowing me to see that. People I don't know are so welcoming. Or rather, because they don't know me...

Mirror Trick

If you look at yourself in the mirror and close your right eye, the person looking back at you closes his left. But if you take a picture of yourself, you would see that you clearly have your right eye closed. If you take a picture of yourself in the mirror, you would think you had closed your left eye when the photo was taken.
If photos are the only way to see yourself through other people's eyes, who are you really looking at in the mirror? Sure, he looks and acts like you but only to an extent. His hair is combed to the right, not the left. His shirt says yaD neerG and he's probably never even heard of a band that calls themselves "Nirvana."
What is his life like beyond the borders of that reflective glass or even, what if, you could view the entire world through a mirror? What if every day you walked out the front door, but you went right instead of left and you drove on the other side of the road, would it make any difference? Is he as completely bored or confused as you are, reading this? Maybe he's not even on the internet. Really, he could be doing anything. He could be wondering the same thing. He could stand up, walk to the mirror, and check to see if that person was still there. He could try to prove that you appeared in his mirror only because he made you appear, because you are him, only exactly the opposite.


[Editor's Note: I see my idea's already been realized. Twice. Oh well, it's still trippy to think about...]

I am Jack's complete lack of surprise

First period is really boring. I'm afraid that my grade will drop as a result of all the talking I've been doing to help alleviate the boredom. Of course, I do all the work in that class, besides a couple of homework assignments that the teacher decided to write at the end of class while everyone was working fervently on these ten questions we were given seven minutes to do.
Notebooks generally don't receive a grade for organization, only presence. If you turn one in, you'll get full credit (I've seen her, she just marks a check next to your name). So, I like to draw in the empty spaces between notes, examples, warm ups etc. Practicing almost daily in this spare time, I've gotten better at drawing faces and expressions, but I can't resist adding a cartoonish touch because realism belongs in photos.
A few of them are actually quite embarrassing, although anyone who may appear remains nameless and faceless. I wonder if she's ever gotten past the inside cover, where my name is written. She might find a lover, a pessimist, someone who knows too much and cares too little. [For some reason I'm reminded of Nicholas Cage's role in Next because the look on his face did not vary from three different expressions: I'm very bored because I know everything that's going to happen two minutes from now, I'm depressed because I'm such a tired soul/ I've lead a very tortured childhood, or I'm smiling because I think I'm clever for remembering a line I've heard before and being able to relay it back/ I have charm.]<--- the sort of things I think about while she drones on.. I sort of want to ask her if she's ever seen the doodles, if they've interrupted her daily routine in any way. If they so much as made a smirk last on her face for more than half-a-second, it would make me feel much better than what I felt after seeing the red check for notebook "presence."
Maybe after this semester I'll sift through my notebook for pictures I really enjoyed, then cut and paste them to something like a poster I could hang in my room. Sounds like a great way to consume the hours I spend pondering the meaning of dessert-pies, planning how to run an economy consisting entirely of human feces, and questioning the sexuality of various wholesale items.

I am Jack's naive ambition.

Cake > Pie

My parents bought me a banana cream pie for my birthday. What's the point? Pies are just cakes with crust and who likes crust? Communists do... communists eat the crust on their peanut butter and jelly sandwiches...

Really, they put candles in it and everything. Every time they buy dessert pies like this I never eat them, so why would they think I suddenly like them?

Saying grace.

My Thanksgiving Day completely transcended my already insanely high expectations of it. Sure, I didn't glutton myself or park on the couch to watch two football games I could've predicted the outcome of, but I saw Twilight (finally) and talked to my cousin Yvonne, whom I hadn't seen in nearly two years!

It seemed as if almost everything significant in her life had happened in just that short period of time. However, after a bit of conversation, I realized that I didn't really care for her at all before she left. Still, I was remarkably impressed by how greatly we had both changed since then. It wasn't like meeting a stranger; The pretense of family quickly buried any awkward greetings. Yet, it was hard to believe she had belonged to this family, my family, for fifteen years and I'd just begun to know her. I wondered what I'd been busy with during the childhood I had shared with my cousins because I didn't have anything to show for it, but I let my inner turmoil go unspoken. Without a word, I was forgiven.

After showcasing to her a few crude sketches I'd finished on the drive up to her house in Sacramento, we wandered off to the local creek. Now, I wouldn't say her neighborhood was entirely hidden from the rest of the city; There were a few kids riding bikes or scooters, working on cars, shooting pool in their garage, or shooting hoops into portable baskets held by sand or water. But when we got to the creek, not a soul could be found. Only a railroad suggested civilization but Yvonne told me that it hadn't been used in years, that it was abandoned just like this old farm shed that seemed to stare at you so intently that you felt it bore through your forehead. Yvonne occupied the space between the shed and I, blurring my vision, and I noticed I was staring. Then and there, I was certain of a creator and I suspected it had designed the shed, the railroad, the grass, the creek, the rocks in the creek, all to produce a resounding sense of panic and distrust. We agreed that neither of us would want to stick around at night, that it would be a cool spot for a horror movie later and an even better spot for spontaneous photos now. We gathered some photo-evidence and, after a quick game of "let's see who can throw a rock the furthest down this railroad" and a classic spitting contest (distance obviously), headed back to her house.

As always, a complication is what keeps a story moving forward. If the evening went by as planned, Yvonne and I would have promptly boarded her minivan, drove on to the theater nearby, and relish the directorial wizardry of a certain film involving vampires, humans, shiny, silver Volvo's, rainy beaches, sprawling meadows, and romance, romance, romance. Time complicated this simple plan. We had plenty of it before we started trying to figure out how we would all be returning home and she had asked to go, before we went to the creek and she had asked to go, and even while we were planning the entire day a week before and she had asked if she could treat me to a movie, sort of like a gift because she wouldn't see me on my birthday. But, then it was our faulty planning skills that prevented us from seeing the dream realized. So my mom and I made a compromise: we could still see the movie, but, I would not have time to be background scenery at another cousin's party, I would have to leave as soon as the movie was finished, and I had to pay back something to every one of my cousins who didn't get to tag along. I had no trouble missing the other party, we watched the movie until after the credits were done rolling, and as for my cousins, they're all about seven or eight years old and would get the same joy out of a blockbuster as they would get from a tootsie pop. So I was out seven dollars, assuming they haven't already forgotten something that they were only associatively involved with...

And after the smoke faded, everyone was satisfied. My sister made it to her job on time with thanks to the traffic being so light, my parents made it to a Black Friday sale at The Great Mall in Milpitas with thanks to coffee, and I enjoyed probably the most exciting Thanksgiving I'd ever had. No complaints.

I am Jack's cold sweat.

Wow. Busy, busy day. One of those stressful, rewarding days: tests, construction, walking, waiting, guy bumps into you, "Oh, hey sorry-" he continues without pause. Step, step, step, step, stop. Sit. Gather required materials for the day. Hey what are we doing? I don't know. Enough sedative to lay a rhino to rest. Pack your things and prepare for departure. Ringing, shuffling, shouting, numbing... grinning, hugging, talking, laugh-- ringing again. Goodbyes are too soon, but hellos come sooner.
Hallow!... Wait where's -censored-? Drama- Oh yea. Slight disappointment... over. It's sit and stare time. Rummage through your stuff. Pull out something. Slight grin. All too interested in everything again. You were staring at something but that has moved. Now, nothing's there but that's all it takes to hold your interest. Shake head awake. Click, click, click, high score. Okay, I'm done with this now. What's this? Oh yea, I remember that. Yea I'm playing it again. I flew to Uranus once. Ringing, shuffling, shouting, numbing... grinning, hugging, talking, laugh-- ringing again.
Squish, squish, squish, squish. Should I, or shouldn't I? No, you shouldn't. Whatever. Casual Friday. But they canceled that two weeks ago. And it's Wednesday. Turn left two whole turns, then right to first number. Turn left, pass first number once to second number. Go directly to third number. Click. Feed something that's already full. Squish, squish, squish, squeak, squeak, squeak. Stop. Sit. Is he looking? Cover me. Cell phone clicking thunders. Okay, you can move now. Participation. Dribble, dribble, shoot. Missed. Catch, shoot, miss, catch, shoot, hit, pass. Please return the equipment to their designated containers. Running. Click. Shut door. Ringing, shuffling, shouting, numbing... grinning, hugging, talking.
Laughing and dancing and spinning in the rain. I am six years old again. Oh, quit it you guys, so immature, I'm gonna laugh if you guys all got sick- Good. I'd laugh if you cared at all. Hiss, stare back, shuffles away. Ringing. Goodbyes are too soon, but hellos come sooner.
Squish, squish, squish, slouch in your chair. Why are you guys drenched? Pause. It's raining? Shake your head dry. Work is given. Work done. Fiddle with, chew on, toss your writing utensil. Catch. Think, think, think, draw. It's a monster. Doo dee doo dee doo RAWR! Giggle and everyone's staring. Blush and again face forward. Ringing, shuffling, shouting, numbing... grinning, hugging, walking and talking. Quite nice, actually. Did you? I did! And? Yea! I told you so!
Settle down, settle down. Now, before we can get to the movie, we have to get through- Dig, dig, dig, aha! here we go.. It's a monster. Doo dee doo dee doo RAWR! AND IT EATED YOUR NOSE! Giggles. Well recieved. Shh, Listen!- gonna do them today but I decided I didn't want to. So be ready for everything on monday. Flip on the tele'. Mayella Ewell was beaten savagely by someone who led, almost exclusively, with his left. Tom Robinson now sits before you having taken the oath with the only good hand he posseses, his right- lowly, are you asleep? Shakes head. They didn't even show his hand, he just said it was crippled. Yea... On and on. Such and such. Boy cries, kids awe. Clicks off. That's all for today. Remember to finish the book by monday. It should be only about thirty pages so you should be fine. Ringing, running, laughing, dancing.
All I need is you to be fine. Suspended in a moment of fulfillment, we are twirling and singing and hoping and forgetting it all. They just don't see it. Soon, I am empty again.

I am Jack, hollow inside.

I am Jack's raging bile duct.

A bile duct is any of a number of long tube-like structures that carry bile.

Bile, required for the digestion of food, is excreted by the liver into passages that carry bile toward the hepatic duct, which joins with the cystic duct (carrying bile to and from the gallbladder) to form the common bile duct, which opens into the intestine.

The biliary tree (see below) is the whole network of various sized ducts branching through the liver.

The path is as follows: Bile canaliculi → Canals of Hering → interlobular bile ducts → intrahepatic bile ducts → left and right hepatic ducts merge to form → common hepatic duct exits liver and joins → cystic duct (from gall bladder) forming → common bile duct → joins with pancreatic duct → forming ampulla of Vater → enters duodenum

[source: www.wikipedia.com]

Though I don't think that's what The Narrator in Fight Club really meant.

So today, something really got me mad and it reminded me of this quote from the movie. Really, whenever I think of something interesting, the first thing I do is hop onto my computer and look it up on Wikipedia or Google, though I prefer Wiki because when I read the pages in my head I sound smart to myself.

I am Jack's inflamed ego.

waka waka waka

I just saw that Alyssa added Pacman to her blog!

Pacman and Galaga are two of my favorite arcade games. In fact, if I ever met a girl who was as passionate about the two as I am, I'd probably be all, "Burt wants to battle!" and she'd be like, "bring it on!" And the sun would rise and set until only one remained. And we would probably both cheat and get into a huge fight...

But it's not forever. But it's just tonight. Oh we're still the greatest. The greatest.

Kings of Leon - Sex on fire.
Just one of those sort of sexy songs that has a nice, rock sound. Of course, it's about sex but, what I really like about it is not only the descriptive language, but that the singer's voice truly personalizes it in a way that cannot be replicated. Also their sound is unlike any you hear today. The order of the song is pretty plain but what I mean is, well most bands either go really "heavy" or they try to be punk or whatever; They aim for predetermined genres of music instead of just playing music they like to play. I would embed the video but it's been "disabled by request"...

When I was young we used to play a game of hide and seek. Someone go hide and count to ten.

In To Kill a Mockingbird, Jem wants to be a lawyer; I think when I was his age I wanted to be an assassin. I asked my friend about this and he said that it was fine and that it was "a hell of a lot better than 'garbageman' (apparently, that was all he thought of when he was a child)." Then, we started fantasizing about, if we ever split apart after high school, how an assassin and a garbageman might end up crossing paths. Eventually we decided on this: I would end up working for China's military and he'd be taking out the garbage for the white house, obviously the peak of either proffesion. China would assign me to kill the president of the United States while, meanwhile, Evon is driving his daily truckload of garbage out to the nearby plant. I would lock my sights on Mr. Pres with my sniper rifle and instintcively take the shot but, just as I pull the trigger, his truck backs into the bullet's line of fire. He had left it in neutral without pulling the handbrake and it was on a slope. Frustrated at my error, I would have to move closer, as they surely would be closing in on me and I was NOT ready to just give up on this mission. I ditch my gear bringing only a pistol, ammo, and throwing knives as I board a sleek, invisible motorbike a la Die Another Day. The humiliation of missing my target still ringing in my ears, I'm too distracted and I nearly collide with Evon, but quickly recognising him, I powerslide to a halt and backtrack to say, "Hey! Dude it's been soooo long!"
"Burt? Woah, yea I didn't recognise you there in your kick-ass ninja gear!" [editors note: ha. ha.]
"So..... how's.. garbage?"
"Good, good. Pays great but still working nine to five you know?"
"Yea man, that's rough."
"How's the.. assassining?"
"Not so great, actually. Today, they had me all over friggin Europe. I don't even know how I'm still walking."
And then Evon had to walk to Chemistry and I had P.E. :[

I am the cause of, and the solution to, all of your problems.

You love me, and you hate that you love me. And you hate yourself and I hate myself. And you won't let me help or even look at you. With a monopoly over the space around you, attempts at reconciliation are quickly destroyed before they even start. Yet, you miss me. Or maybe, someone like me, only better. Better to you because, to you, I couldn't ever be them. You find solace in familiarity, things you know you know. And I was the unknown. What we had is what could not be simplified, no matter which way you looked at it. And you looked at it over and over, analyzing and reanalyzing. Until you saw nothing. Until you could not see anything. And at last, you had the answer to the problem: it isn't there.

I'm not a racist but-

-Queen Latifa kind of scares me.. I don't think I've ever liked her and can't even think of a movie with her just being a side-character that I liked. I don't know, does that make me a racist? Maybe I just don't like 'feel good' movies. After all, they always left me feeling bored, envious, or just generally sick. Actually I do like kids movies like Finding Nemo or Wall-E because they actually have jokes that lead to moments I would define as heartwarming. I wouldn't define Queen Latifa trying to ski down a mountain as heartwarming. It's like, "Hey I'm in this whacky situation. Watch me get hurt, then laugh at me." [insert bland story with obvious message]. "I've learned [movie's message] and I'm sorry." Oh yea, and don't forget, they all have to cry at some point. No 'feel good' movie is complete without a tear-jerking feel good moment. :D

Vultures

Vultures

You're walking down the street and you're wearing someone else's clothes and hair and your listening to music other people wrote, singing their song and dancing their dance, and you're singing and dancing and walking with your eyes closed because you don't care, you just want to get home and laugh at someone else's jokes and study someone else's moves and philosophies and fashion and friends and who do you think is having more fun? You, or the disease ridden vultures circling the empty space above your rotting head?

I wish I could start out writing a post with no particular point and then develope it into something great...

Two things annoy me to no end: Bob Saget and when people say I look stoned, dead, or emo. For now, I shall only focus on the latter. I like to consider myself a pretty happy guy. My friends have always had the capacity to make me smile, even on some of my worst days. But, when I'm walking to classes alone or even sitting in class bored out of my mind because we're doing the same math problem for the fifth time, I tend to drift off into my own little world. Apparently, in this state of mind I wear this blank mask to hide my thoughts; I don't remember ever smiling or tilting my head without noticing, just staring off into the endless depths of that hole in the wall that no one else seems to notice.
People wonder what I'm thinking about when often I'm just replaying a song in my head that I really like, turning my brain into an iPod only with better choice of flow for music. That is, when one song ends I can usually find a cool song to follow it up with, that would compliment it somehow, like a controlled, shifting playlist. It's really a skill I'm glad to have mastered after all these years of practice.
Wow this time I actually started with a point but lost it somewhere. Oh well I think it's a fine rant for today.

Like some cruel, pointless joke and I'm waiting for the punchline...

This election just saddens me. It used to fill me with passion and anger and now it's driven me to the point of sheer hopelessness. Most of the people that I talk to tell me, "Well if [insert candidate] wins, at least we'll be less screwed than [insert opposite candidate]!" which tells me that no one really likes either person at all. In fact, a large amount of people interviewed on the news the other day said that this may be the first time they voted because there's actually a candidate they could vote for. I am still waiting for a candidate to represent me, which would be to represent both "democratic" and "republican" views.
Or maybe we have just completely surrendered to our apathy.

"We need a black, lesbian, woman running for the green party."
"That would be interesting.."
"Yea. At least until they are assassinated...."

skip this post. (its for your health!)

Today was too busy to describe in words, yet at times it felt as if I wasn't doing anything at all. Actually, suffice it to say that today was hectic. Well, some parts were slow. It's like "I have a time machine, but it only moves forward at regular speed." but does that really count as an embedded quote?
Something caught my eye yesterday while reluctantly attending church (I had been on a creative roll, writing a story.. looking back, it really has gotten worse since). I tore my gaze away from the streets and cars, to look up at the stars and noticed that the moon was gigantic that night. Not only, gigantic but it seemed to be setting behind the mountains! As I continued to glare at the moon the mountains shifted into the angular roofs of townhouses, then it shaded the silhouette of a dozen dead trees; they were truly beautiful sights. It seemed odd to me that moonlight had the power to turn ordinary buildings and trees into objects of such beauty, things more beautiful than most paintings I've seen because if you blinked the trees and houses would disappear. Sometimes they'd come back amplified after the brief hiatus and you could enjoy them once more, better than the first time you'd seen them.
When the moon reflected the shadows of a thousand tortured souls, I quickly retracted my eyes and found myself at the church steps.

A Short Story

The Chase

*Huff* how long *huff* has it been? It seems like I've been running for hours until I find myself bent over, resting my hands on my knees, in this long, winding hallway where earlier it was an alley. The hallway could have been one of those roller coaster tunnels you find at amusement parks, but the walls were damp, water leaking from the cieling although the hallway did carry the faint smell of freshly painted walls. Or was it gasoline? Exhausted, all sights and sounds and smells seemed like a blur of emotions. All that seemed real now was the wave of relief I felt as my lungs greedily inhaled oxygen. Like a fish out of water, I was drowning.
Well, at least now it seems I've lost my attackers so at least I could lean against the wall for a bit, so at least i could think and soon I remembered why I was here. Everything came back to mind with exaggerated swiftness and clarity, yet the images came so fast they blurred together, and I found it hard to focus on any one event in particular. But I did know why I was here. I pushed, they pushed back. I ran, they chased. I spoke, but they didn't seem to listen or care for that matter. They never do. And I knew that, soon, I would cave in like I'd seen topple around me. One, by one, by one.
A new sound stepped forward from the hysteria, footsteps violently shoving water out of their cozy puddles, no doubt due to the leaky cieling. Or was it gasoline? I sat cross legged floor, staring at the lit end of my final cigarette, as the inferno crept across the damp floorboards, and up my back.

Family Traditions

One thing that seems to always bring my family together is food. While my immediate family doesn't eat together often, it seems that the pretense of seeing any of my cousins, aunts or grandparents is food. And when we do eat together I feel a great sense of belonging. Then we start talking about politics and the feeling gets swept away.

Just a thought that kept popping into my head today..

And you don't have to understand it all. Or read it for that matter. But you are here so I guess I should give you something.

Constantly, it's occurred to me that I take more interest in everything I don't understand and for some reason once I can understand it then I neglect it. For instance, I'll read someone's thoughts on their blog or see someone on T.V. or just life in general and I'd really wish I had gotten to know them more. The rest of the day, I'll find myself constantly thinking about that person I'm only given a snippet of information about, not able to completely summarize them. I start to wonder what my life would be like had they somehow been able to contribute something to it or I to them. I wonder about how other things could be different if I had done something else in a split second that could have altered my entire future somehow, but I just go on living, assuming that these things happened to me because of some reason or another. Suddenly, I become deeply and erratically paranoid over everything I do, be it a few seconds or a few years ago, and I start to wonder whether I'm doing the right thing, or if I do this, then it may affect that person. Or could some decision I deemed insignificant at the time really lead to my own death? Well, it seems crazy to think that I deserve life more than anyone else deserves it. And it becomes instantly, painfully clear that I should be waking up by now.

My turn to rant about politics...

Today I went back to Mr. Thompson's blog to see if I was added to "the list" yet and Rachel K's blog title really caught my eye, "My rant on politics part 2" and I thought "Wait there was a part 1?!" so I checked it out and she had some really interesting things to say. They were things I thought I would never hear another person around my age talk about in that way so it did cheer me up but also got me agitated in a way. (towards the topic not the poster). So definately check it out - http://rachelksblog.blogspot.com/

Personally, I would take it a step further and say that they know that it's easier to reach the people through Ads rather than through speeches, but their dream is for us to vote for them without them ever telling us what they're going to do in office. Believe me, we've almost reached that point already! It seems like they are more interested in winning the moniker, the title Mr. President, than actually doing what the people want to do. So, today, it seems we can break down campaigns into a series of promises, accusations, and denials.

Each of the two parties makes promises. It doesn't really matter what each of them promise so long as it's the exact opposite of the other party.
"If elected, I will abolish the citizens' right to own guns and replace it with a mother's right to an abortion," said the member of the one party anyone in the U.S. ever cares about.
"If elected, I will give every 18 year old a gun, and force every pregnant woman to have their child, no matter how prepared or unprepared they are for the baby," said the member of the other party anyone in the U.S. ever cares about.
"If elected, I will pass tighter gun laws and make sure our teens have access to various methods of birth control," is what would have been said if that particular party had been given enough money to get their message out in the first place.

The top two parties continue in this fashion for an indeterminable period of time, stating their ideals. After they are sure they have won the vote of their respective sects of followers, they start playing the slander game. They bring out their oppenent's dirty laundry and declare, "Aha! Here we find that my opponent's step-brother in law running a red light! By the association, we can assume that my oppenent also runs red lights! He is not fit to run this country!" The other candidate, in turn, denies his step-brother in law ever running a red light in his life and accuses his opponent's distant relative of commiting some kind of worse debauchery, proclaiming himself the lesser of two evils.

So, the two parties continue in this fashion for an indeterminable period of time, until election day. By now, such and such celebrities have been arrested, such and such T.V. shows have been cancelled or have ended, countless children have fallen down wells or been kidnapped or been the victim of a drive by shooting, and almost everyone in America can not recall what either of the two candidates really stood for anymore. They give their candidates peculiar nicknames like "republican" and "democrat" to help distinguish one from the other, so they know they are voting for the person that will make sure that the half of the country that voter belongs to is happy.

Slowly, we divide ourselves into two goups: those voting "republican" and those voting "democrat." Between then and election day we watch the campaign go on through the T.V. As it turns out, those who consider themselves to be "republican" end up watching one channel and those who consider themselves to be "democrat" end up watching another. The two channels jump on this opportunity to further divide us and each offers us bits and pieces of the same story, only allowing us to hear what they decide we want to hear based on who we are voting for.

And election day comes and half the country votes one way and the other votes the other way and one side wins and one side loses and pretty soon we can carve turkey, open presents, make promises we know we won't keep for the next year, fall in love for a day, watch the super bowl, light a bunch of explosives, and repeat. We fall back into routine, watching our favourite shows when we're not working, eating, or sleeping.

Occasionally, we'll check back on our government, you know, just to check if everything is running according to plan and we find that it surely is. The three branches are still there, which means the people we voted for are doing there job. Which is to do what we put them there to do. Which is... what they promised to do... that.. umm.. we agreed with! and.. we thought it was good too! so now.. uh.. they are there and doing those things we can't do you know? Like, passing laws and putting the bad guys behind jail and veto, veto, veto, and making speeches.

Sure we could take more interest in our government, but why bother? The system works! We designed and set the system to run like a giant machine, perpetually in motion, needing no maintinance. We take comfort in it's complexity, the sheer size, design, and efficiency.

And soon, election day comes and half the country votes one way and the other votes the other way and one side wins and one side loses and pretty soon we can carve turkey, open presents, make promises we know we won't keep for the next year, fall in love for a day, watch the super bowl, light a bunch of explosives, and repeat. We fall back into routine, watching our favorite shows when we're not working, eating, or sleeping....

We make a big deal about something that we not only do not completely grasp, but something that doesn't matter as much as we think it does. Yes, the president is a big deal, but not nearly enough attention is paid to congress, the house of representatives, or the supreme court. More importantly, we don't pay enough attention to ourselves! You don't have to be a politician to make a change, but you also can't change the world with one vote for the president either. It's up to you to attend rallies, sign or write petitions, and really take action and interest in the changes you want to see. Without the people's participation governments can become very corrupt very quickly.

Okay, wow, I realize this is really long but it took me a really long time to write so I would love any comments.

What feels like my first real post

Well, here we are. Coming up with things to write about that others might find worth reading. Hopefully, eventually, I'll come up with things worth debating for you instead of just writing down my thoughts and hope you were thinking the same thing. Really, I think I see myself posting more comments than my own posts. But if you're interested in hearing about myself as that's all i can think of to talk about lately, then right now I hear the T.V. playing some fake reality show, the radio playing some song I don't even know the name to nor bother to know, and as i find my own thoughts harder and harder to grasp i can only think of trying to finish this sentence in a way that sounds like it was written by someone who can hopefully talk better than he writes.

I miss the beauty of my own handwriting. I used to be able to be satisfied knowing that even if what was written wasn't my best work, at least it was neat and different and in it's own way beautiful at least in my own mind. Even if i could write something better than what i could on paper, if i could somehow copy it down to the paper then it might benefit from my handwriting, and in that way isn't it the blog posts that are at a loss here? I think just the venue of a computer makes everyone appreciate the words less, but at the same time you want to be heard and passing around papers of material might prove to be problematic. Hopefully I won't end up sacrificing quality for convenience.

crayon

"Money! No discovery ever made by man is worse than the silver coin.
It's this silver coin which turns countries upside down.
It's this silver coin which sends men away from their homes.
It's this silver coin which turns the minds of wise men; makes them wander about, lost to evil deeds, teaches them to commit every sacrilege." - Creon

This is a very blunt statement by Sophocles about what the love of money can do to people. He says this obsession with silver can, not only distract wise men, but entire countries. Some who chase the silver coin may leave their family behind or not even start a family at all. All for their own success, to see their own dreams of fame and fortune become reality. But for some that is all they may need to be happy.
I think I know where I stand. I can say "Money is no object for me," not because I have it (which I don't) but because I don't want it. Some will tell you that it is needed, that it is necessary to survive now. I agree we all need money to just get by now, but do we all know when we will stop? Will we even be able to recognize if we have enough or if we need more and when we do will it be too late for us to do anything about it?
Who is teaching us to know our own limit? We surely cannot trust the T.V. or the radio or the magazines to teach us; they only have their best interests in mind which is to get you to have more money to splurge on their product: luxuries you don't need that don't make you happy.
So i have another message for you: go and do the things you love to do! Find something that makes you happy and chase it! But don't let anyone tell you what you want either. Only you can figure out where you fit in and if you don't then feel free to be the first. Feel free to be yourself. Feel free to express every little thing that makes you unique. Feel free from the accusations of your peers. And feel free to think for yourself! Just after you hear something and just before you accept it as true, process it on your own for a while before deciding whether you agree or not. Everything! Including this post from which I hope I've given you enough to over-analyze by now.