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?
Saturday, October 25, 2008
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
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.
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...."
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...."
Thursday, October 16, 2008
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.
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.
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
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.
*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.
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