Those Moments

Are the best. When you can just sit back and relax with your friends or whoever and not have to worry about anything else in the world. Just talking about whatever whether serious or not. Just kickin' back waiting for someone to come or just burning the midnight oil at that donut store down the street. Makes me think how much I really love those moments and how I take them for granted. Just want those moments to never end.

Sleep when you're dead.

I can taste my sleep nowadays. That taste in your mouth after you wake up where everything in your mouth tastes stale or something. I'm starting to taste that in school a lot. I guess it's my fault for being a procrastinator...but that's too hard so I'll just blame school and everything else for my being so tired.

Like French. How I despise. Deliver me from French. I hate that class so much. To do well I have to study, but to study I need to stay up later for it there by making me sleep in class, but if I sleep in class my grade is lowered. Is that a Catch 22? I'm not sure....too tired to figure it out.

But I suppose in the end there isn't really I can do. I can sleep when I'm dead. But, "To work hard, to live hard, to die hard, and then go to hell after all would be too damn hard."

Humans need to just evolve out of sleeping already. I've partly started I reckon.

The Fuzz

Pirating. It's so easy. I used to believe I pirated for a just cause or for a just reason, but who am I kidding? I pirate so much that I scare myself. I mean to stop, but it's just so easy. It's there for the taking. What can a man do?

TCB

Taking care of business.

It's what I'm not doing.

Seinfeld has is crippling my productivity. It has a choke hold on me. Half way through season 8 I'm relieved that it'll over soon, which could mean a return to my regular levels of procrastination, but at the same time I'm saddened. The show is simply too good.

But worse than Seinfeld is the internet.

I find myself aimlessly wandering through page after page of the same thing I've seen over and over again or just clicking at links that just keep leading to one thing and then another. Then when my internet goes out suddenly my world seems to go with it. My umbilical cord to the rest of the world is suddenly severed and I'm left a helpless baby wallowing in my own anger and sadness. Then when that cord is reconnected I'm crawling back into the womb of the information super highway. I mean how useful is a computer without internet? It's like an empty refrigerator.

The thing is that if I'm not in front of my computer then it's fine. I can go days, weeks, months without the internet I reckon...I don't actually know, but I'd like to think I can otherwise I'm a pathetic excuse for a human.

Or am I?

How different is having internet than from having a radio, television, newspaper, a phone, mail, or a group of friends. It's almost like a fix for a junkie of the 21st century. But in many ways the internet is to our generation as what the television or radio was to the last generation. It's not fair to be singled out for something like that in my mind. Jazz, rock and roll, comic books, and now video games and the internet. Everyone is looking for a scapegoat for their problems.

Deciding whether or not to destroy this virtual city or trying to figure out how the gang in Seinfeld is going to get themselves out of another pickle is mine. At least for now. It's just reality is so...hard.

Day

"Shit. How am I going to pass this French quiz? Wait...what's this joker...shit!"
My fingers scrambled for my breaks, but got tangled up. It was too late. I couldn't do anything.

Next thing I know I'm on the ground. I get up on my knees and first thing I see is my yellow banana. I grab the banana and wonder how it survived, then check my other jacket pocket for my Danimals yogurt drink. Still intact. I grab onto the unrolled window driver door and pull myself up. I feel shaky all over. My body vibrating and I can't control it.

"What the shit"

I thought to myself.

I hear, "You okay?" Some guy walking by. Doesn't even bother to stop and just keeps on walking.

"I'm going to be late for school" I said to myself.

I look over and the car is still there. Now I'm on my feet, still shaking. It's hard to stand straight and I wobble around. I feel two hands on my shoulders.

"You okay? You want to go to hopeetuhl?"

Broken English with a heavy Asian accent.

"Spend my life trying not to give Asians a bad name and this happens."

I try to push myself away from them, after all I don't really want comfort from these idiots that just pulled up right in front of me. Then again it could be my fault...shit they should still be looking. They guide, or push, me over to the curb and sit me down. They bring me my frozen water for the practice that day and I put it up against my head. I could feel the the part above my right eyebrow starting to swell. Where else should I put it? I'm shaking all over and I can't control it. I try to figure out whether it's because I'm cold or because I'm in shock. Pull out my phone. 7:20.

"Now I'm really going to be late to school..."

I debate in my mind what to do. Call my mom. Call the police. Text Gloria.

Eventually I call my mom and tell her what happened. Her voice is alarmed and tells me she'll be there.

I think a while longer wondering whether or not to tell Gloria I've been in an accident. I don't want her to worry, but at the same time she'd be worried if I didn't say anything.

So I text her.

I see a bright yellow firetruck race past me and the accident site with its sirens blaring.

"Hm...maybe I should call the cops."

Out of the corner of my eye I see Kevin. He's running across the road towards me. Asking me what happened. He can't do much and I don't expect him to, but he stays like I think a good samaritan should do.

My jaw is chattering. I still can't stop shaking.

A motorcycle cop pulls up. Kevin's mom pulls up. Jaine's mom pulls up. My mom comes down. Ambulance on the scene. The fire truck I saw race past me is now coming back. All matters of questions being asked.

Broken English to my right.

Officers talking to my left.

I recount what happened to the cop in front of me.

Paramedics check my body. Neck. Legs. Back. Put me on a stretcher and strap me in tight. Ants are crawling all over me from the grass nearby. Paramedics are swatting my body trying to get them off and finally put me in the ambulance. I hear them talking about which hospital to go to. Asking their boss or dispatcher or whoever is in charge of paramedics.

IV tube. Wince. Ouch.

I don't really know why. "Just in case," is what I get from what they were saying.

I only see the ceiling of the ambulance. I can't move my head. The guy in back with me makes small talk. I converse with him, but not really caring. Apparently I broke the window in the back door. Just wanting to think for a minute about what happened. I talk anyways all the while I hear "Staying Alive" from the radio. I feel ants biting me. More swatting.

The ride must have taken at least 30 minutes. How urgent.

I arrive and they pull me out of the ambulance and roll me through the trauma center. It's strange only being able to look at the ceiling. You just see everything roll by you. Maybe this is how Tralfamadores see life.

They pull me off the stretcher and put me on a bed. They give me a nice warm blanket.

The doc comes over and checks my body. Neck. Legs. Back. Tells me I'm fine. Get released. On my way back to school. I wonder why I hadn't some kind of epiphany or life changing experience. Maybe I'm not just that kind of guy. Or maybe that kind of stuff only happens on TV and in books. I come back half way during 3rd period. I start taking notes. I'm spelling things wrong and writing down the wrong words. I go through my day as usual except for people coming up and asking what happened.

I guess it was just another day.

The Real McCoy

To do:
-Billy Budd
-Shipping News
-United States History Advanced Placement
-Get shit together

Talk about time flying by. One day it was June 4th, 2008 and now it's August 13, 2008 with only a few weeks until school left. Back then...I was looking forward to getting out of school, relaxing, Japan, and whatever else I was thinking about. Now I'm wondering if I can power through and get my work done. Sometimes writing down what is happening or what is going on and what needs to be done puts things into perspective.

PERSPECTIVE?

Late Night Jibber Jabber

Walking is lost. I think walking with your friends or just whoever is a good thing that many people might not do anymore. Sure it's nice to have a car, but walking is just as good as any to get to somewhere. With walking you share the journey of the walk. The heat, cold, pain, and whatever else that may happen during the walk. Maybe it's just me. It would be nice to have a car sometimes, but at other times it's just fun to go on a random walk to who knows where without any prior plan as to what you're doing or where you're going.

Kind of like letting go of the wheel.

Letting go. That time of year. For some their time is up. Saying bye to some is tough whether or not you show it. Even if you don't really think about when they're gone you'll notice that they are gone, and then you'll be missing them. It's weird to imagine a year with so many people gone, so many things changing. Right now, it doesn't seem like it'll be a change for the better, but isn't that how change always seems like? Especially if the way it is right now isn't bad. If you're at bottom then something has to change.

Rock bottom.

You know when you've hit it. Something has gone wrong. Maybe you know exactly what went wrong other times you don't. It all feels the same regardless. What is rock bottom? How can you know how it feels to be at the lowest of the low? You've only touched the bottom of how much you know. There can always be a lower point, can't there?

1 AM

How I told myself that I wouldn't be awake this late again. How many times I have told myself this, but always find myself in my chair with my legs stretched out, crossed, and staring at the bottom right hand corner of my computer screen wondering, "Where did all that time go." As if some how I just lost that much time to a void where all lost time goes to and just piles up. Then I wonder. Wonder what I did to make all that time disappear. It only happens when you actually have something important to do though. When you have nothing to do wasting time isn't fun.

Fun.

A relative term. Do you ever wonder how life would be different if the things you thought were fun were things like waking up early, doing homework, doing work, etc. For some it is. For me it isn't. What a stupid thing to think. Where am I going?

With this?

I don't know. Stream of consciousness. Ulysses, Joyce, existentialism, Age of Anxiety. Knowledge that is seemingly useless, but may come in handy one day. Until that day though, it's useless. Seeing is believing? If I never saw Earth again would that mean it didn't exist to me? That I would be dead to the planet? Or would memories keep it alive? Or are memories things that just make you miss something more, and ultimately hurt you more once you realize that you don't have it anymore? All a matter of how you perceive it I suppose.

Perception.

People make me wonder. How can someone think of that? Who saw this and thought that it was a good idea? Do these people ever listen to themselves? Do I ever listen to myself? Do I really believe in what I think I believe in? Maybe I just don't give people enough chances. Or maybe I just can't accept some peoples' perception about things. Like leadership. Some people just seem so closed minded and cocky about themselves. Sometimes I point it out, but other times they just won't listen. People are so full of themselves. I may be one of those people.

Stubborn.

That's what they are. That's what I am. I'd like to think I'm accepting of other ideas, but sometimes it's just so absurd. They don't see the other side or just refuse to believe it. It feels like watching a basketball game where the teams can't see each other. That didn't come out as I thought it would. Things never seem to really come out the way I hope they would.

So I'm glad she did.

If you're still reading this nonsense -cough-Nick-cough-. You're probably the only one that ever seems to care if I write in this or not. Rightfully so. You seem to be the only person to ever be as bored as me and act in the manner that I do. Sometimes you come off insulting me and what not, but I suppose that's just the way you are and despite that fact you're still one of my role models. Oh well, if and when you do read this you'll probably call me gay. I can already see it now. Hahahaha.

The End.

Of my post is approaching. I always write down what I'm thinking or feeling in these, but it never seems really specific enough to really get anything out them. Just vague thoughts that run through my mind one day and maybe come back another. But always coming back. Always.

Always.

Always coming back to nag at my mind. About something...there's always something..

Until then, nothing.

AAA

AAA - WORKING TITLE

WRITING SCRIPT.

Surreal

It feels all very...surreal.

Camera trails across ground leading up to a body with a pool a blood forming around it.

Camera rolls up to show a man in a chair with his head down holding a hand gun.

Cut to behind the man in the chair, overlooking the dead body.

V.O.: Oh well...

Cut to title. Cue violins.

A A A

COMING SOON?

Koyaanisqatsi

I'm sure I'm not the first. A strange thought came to me as I sat on my couch petting my cat. I sat there looking at my cat and then it struck me, like a bat at my head. My cat is something living. She breathes, hears, sees, smells. It's strange because I always knew my cat was alive, but it was something else. The strangeness of the situation. A living thing owning another living thing. If you read this you'll probably wonder at my thought and think how dumb, but it was something else that really hit me. I imagine that that's what it must feel like to reach enlightenment, even for a split second.

Out of the loop. Never been in it.

Cold like the street, stupid like the city.

Got. Kept.

Or maybe it was a brain tumor.

Heavy

We're strapped to a train cart on a rail. Head encased in metal with only one tiny eye hole with six feet of pipe welded onto it resting on a bipod. We can't touch it or move it. Our perception of time. Our perception of life. And we have no choice but to say, "That's life." - Taken from Slaughter House - Five

What else can we say? There's nothing we can do when our life takes a sharp turn to suck town. Like when your binder crashes to the floor and sprays out all of it's contents across the floor. Twice in the same week. Or when you get a C on Chem test that you could have gotten an A on. Or when you look at life and wonder how people can hang onto something seemingly so hopeless for so long. It doesn't make a difference. It's out of our control. All we can do is look back on the pleasant moments and ignore the bad ones. The universe's destiny is set.

I thought we controlled our future. We can change the course of history and there was no set destination. If we tried hard enough we could change the future. No inevitable future.

I don't know what to think anymore. Then again, I don't think I ever did. The only thing we can do is to keep on moving, to soldier on, even when things do get heavy.

That's life.

HAPPY VALENTINES GABBY AND NICK!

HAPPY VALENTINES GABBY AND NICK!
HAPPY VALENTINES GABBY AND NICK!
HAPPY VALENTINES GABBY AND NICK!
HAPPY VALENTINES GABBY AND NICK!
HAPPY VALENTINES GABBY AND NICK!

Solitaire

is the master of games. It brings sadness and loss in morale from the sheer difficulty of the game. Brings joy when you beat that first Solitaire game, which you thought was impossible at first. It lets you customize your deck from a number of preset pictures. You like frogs? No problem, Solitaire's got a frog style deck. You like fish? No problem, Solitaire's got that too. The simplicity in the game drives sane men to the loony bin. Anyone who plays on Draw One is a wuss, everyone knows that Draw Three is where it's at. Try Vegas style scoring for an added challenge.

The British called it Patience. They knew what they were talking about.

HOPE. PROGRESS.

Climbing Ever Closer

to the near two months I haven't updated. In fact I do believe that anyone that would care to read this would be Nick. Yes, you Nick. I know you'll read this once this goes up since you're the one who told me to finally update my blog. So I may as well dedicate this post to you. In fact I might as well just have a conversation with you right now and break that fourth wall. Even though if I really wanted to do that then I could just talk to you in the IM box that's open right next to my Firefox window so that would be pretty pointless. Then again people have conversations through Myspace comments, so how much more absurd would it be to have a conversation through a blog? Not absurd at all if you ask me, there's plenty more things to be worried about in this world anyways. I don't know why I use punctuation, capitalization, or any other grammar marks in this. I mean even if I tried there would be grammar mistakes everywhere anyways so to me it would seem to be pointless. Like this part of the post, it really should be another paragraph. And that comma I used in that last sentence and this sentence, are they even used correctly? Or is that all a part of my writing style? Or it's just me not having a good handle on the English language? Whatever the case I suppose it doesn't make that much of difference in the end. We're all working towards a moot goal. When we leave this place all that will have been left behind are the scars we leave on this planet from all the strip mining, pollution, etc. But that shouldn't be the way of human thinking and to many it isn't. Thinking like that only get you two things:1. Hopelessness that'll drive you to give up on life and pursue nothing higher in your life. 2.Drive for a better future and a will to survive. Number 2 is the choice that the primal side of humans will make, but for many by the time that happens it'll be too late. Hopes of alternative fuels, clean air, a green tomorrow all seem to be always only 5 or 10 years away yet by the time that rolls around it's just another 5 or 10 years away. How long will it be before we actually put these technologies to use? Greed is a tough monster to overcome and many in business suits would rather bow down to. Strange thoughts come to mind when you let you're mind wander and have a writing utensil nearby, be it keyboard or pencil. My own personal future seems ever cloudier every day that goes by. What do I want to do? It seems like every time I come to write here that question always comes up and I find myself answering it in a similar fashion. First I'll talk about it and then I'll go on to ways to possibly fulfill that goal, but this time I don't think so. It just seems like a way to lie to myself with me actually believing in the lie. Always waiting on external forces to push me and my future. It's about time that I find my own drive. See what I did there? Another lie that I seem to have conjured up. Who knows though, maybe this time I'll actually follow what I say. I suppose if the future was clear there would be no point in living, but the mystery haunts me everyday. Scared for my future and my laziness. Too much to do, too little time. It always seems like that doesn't it? To people like me anyways. Those who sit around for 2, 3 hours doing nothing and then think to themselves, "What! Where did all the time go!?" Then we find ourselves panicking and rushing, putting out sub-par work. To depend on that randomness factor to swoop in and save me from myself is nothing, but a fantasy. A fantasy that all of should get away from. Those who made it, made it on their will to do. I seem to lack that. Writing on my blog always gets me down because of the stuff I write on here. But what else should a blog like my own be used for? I suppose this is what the purpose of my blog, to write my own sorrow onto it and leave for others to come by and laugh or be angry at the kinds of problems in my life, when other people have bigger ones. Meh, what can I say that will please passerbyers? Nothing, that's what. As of now I am discontent.