If your goal was to break me

then I hate to say, you've succeeded. What response is there to a lack of response? How does one react to nothing exactly? When you refuse to act I cannot react, except to nothing. That nothing then becomes a very significant something to which I don't know how to react. When you are passionate about something and suddenly it no longer exists shouldn't you feel something? If you are attached to a pet and it dies, you get sad or angry. If you love the game and succeed at it you feel proud and happy. So how are you supposed to feel about nothing... the absence of something. Does the intensity of the resultant feelings have to match the intensity of the initial? I can't even begin to explain what the hell I mean because the story is long and the words are large and I did not sleep last night. Thank you Nina and company for pulling a pointless all-nighter because whatever you worked on obviously isn't due today since you didn't go to class. Today is not the day to get on my bad side. Where are all these people who are supposedly good and honest and kind? Where are they huh? I can't find them. I'll admit I've tried to be one of them on more than one occasion but continually fail due to lack of motivation. 

I could be good, would be good for you, you know. You don't care though, at all. No one cares whether I make a difference today or tomorrow as long as I intend to at some point in my life. Never have I been this confused about something so small. All the "Whys" in the world seem to float over my head right now. Why then? Why now? Why was it so crazy? Why did I care? Why did it start one way and end another? Why does the plot have all this pre-climactic build only to fizzle out when we think it's going to get good? 

Not knowing kills me and I know I've said that before. I can't stand it. I am one of those people who has to have a reason behind things. I can't accept certain things for what they are because I know there is some driving force behind them and perhaps that force is undefined. Maybe some things are truly inexplicable but I still can't let them go. I learn from my mistakes. I move forward but I never forget. I really can't help it this time. It was so strange, so sudden, and so devastating; so incredible, so amazing, and so intense; so simple, so hurtful, and so empty. 

I'm lost. 

Maybe...

I have nothing to say. I have nothing to say so I'm going to write about nothing. Nothing obviously is not possible so you already know that by writing about nothing I'm not writing about something. Maybe I just don't feel like writing right now but I can't think of anything else to do. Maybe I need a hug. Maybe I want to go back to sleep. Maybe I want to go home. Maybe I want to sleep in a bed that doesn't hurt my back. Maybe I want to pet my dog. Maybe I want to give you a hug. Maybe I'm stressed. Maybe I'm tired. Maybe I'm hungry. Maybe I'm sick. Maybe I'm confused. Maybe I just want the truth and Maybe I don't. Maybe I don't know what I want. Maybe I'm a jerk. Maybe I'm not. Maybe I beat myself up so other people can't. Maybe I protect myself too much. Maybe I have writer's block. Maybe I'm just making up excuses. Maybe I'm seeing things that don't exist. Maybe I've written all week because I have nothing else to do. Maybe I've written this week just hoping you'll read it. Maybe I'm not the one actually writing this. Maybe I have a doppleganger.  Maybe you shouldn't believe everything you hear. Maybe I shouldn't believe everything I hear. Maybe I should get up. Maybe I should stay here. Maybe I never should have told you. Maybe I should tell you. Maybe I don't know what to do. Maybe I want answers. Maybe they don't exist. Maybe I'm immune. Maybe I'm not. Maybe I need a kick in the face. Maybe I'm ignorant. Maybe I'm too observant. Maybe I'm crazy. Maybe I'm just missing something. Maybe I can't see. Maybe I can't hear. Maybe I can't speak. Maybe I don't have anyone to talk to. Maybe no one will listen. Maybe I miss getting phone calls. Maybe I need a new teddy bear. Maybe I can fix the old one. Maybe I eat when I'm stressed. Maybe I do things I regret. Maybe I hate myself. Maybe you hate yourself. Maybe I should just stop. We are all human. We all question everything or at least we should. I drank a soda last night for the first time in five and a half years. I just didn't care. 

Friendliest Friendliness Required

You ever notice how everyone classifies their friends into friends, best friends, acquaintances, family, lovers whatever etc... well I've noticed that there are even deeper subcategories within those. Seriously, like I've noticed that my best friends are the people that I hang out with and enjoy spending time with the most... obviously; however, I've found that only some of my best friends are the ones that I can cry in front of or flop down next to when I'm tired or feel like shit. This goes back to something I wrote about Aristotle around this time last year regarding his theory on useful friends and relationships versus a true friendship. When it comes down to it I think Aristotle combined with Erich Fromm's The Art of Loving perfectly describe relationships on all levels. That's just me though. But seriously, when you refer to A and B as your best friends you would expect them to be equal in nature, but they aren't. They are equal in the sense that you can talk to A about B and vice a versa, but you can't always go to B for a hug when you need it. You can however be blatantly honest and open with B but not with A. So here's the conundrum... who's the real best friend? Is there a real best friend or will both outlive their usefulness once a true best friend comes along. If I recall correctly (and I most likely don't) Aristotle said something along the lines of a true friendship entails never having to ask for help and never needing to suggest getting it. Everything is understood and the give and take is virtually non existent. They way I see it, according to Aristotle's definition, I've never had any friends and neither have you for that matter. So should I just consider myself friendless and go on living in this crazy world of usefulness vs. nonusefulness or should I tell Aristotle to go fuck himself because I believe that I do have real and true friends? 

I'll answer that question with a question for my friends: Why do you spend time with me? Is it because there is an unspoken bond or is it because I provide something you need such as directions, a ride, leadership, family, someone to lean on, a printer, a tv, a bodyguard, a laugh, an outlet...?

Kick in the face???

Sometimes there is simply too much going on in my head for me to sit back and relax. This week has been one of the busiest of my life yet also one of the coolest. Still, I will be very glad when everything is over and done with and I can get back to just enjoying summer, or what's left of it. I think the biggest thing right now is that things are going in different directions than I thought they would and it's causing my mind to throw a fit. You know, when something is going along just fine and then you realize that it's not fine but catastrophic and now you don't have any clue as to what to do about it... yeah, that's my week. Don't get me wrong, I've had many high points this week, it's just a lot harder to focus on good things when they're often tied in with the bad on some level. I enjoy speaking cryptically by the way, in case you hadn't noticed. ;) So, having a piercing ripped from your ear is not as bad as you think it might be, at least, it wasn't for me.

Ya, monday started off greeaattt. I caught a foot to the ear when I was grappling and it pulled my industrial straight through the front hole. It didn't really hurt so I didn't know it had ripped my ear until I reached up and realized the bar was not where it was supposed to be. So now there is an orbital ring in the back hole (since it's still intact) and if I ever want to get the front one pierced again they'll do it for free after it heals. That, to me, was a terrific way to start my week.

ya, so, week of hell is halfway over and I think things are starting to look up. I've got fun things planned tomorrow, friday and saturday so maybe things'll get better. Can't say for sure though since I haven't mentioned the worst part of my week. Well, that didn't help at all. I just feel all flat and deflated. :(

Why Am I so... Stupid?

We're all entitled to our "stupid" moments. Mine was this afternoon. DIY projects are gonna kill me. 

F*#kMonkey!

So you make plans. It doesn't matter what kind of plans they are so long as you make them with other people. The first person you talk to says maybe, that it depends but they can probably do it. The second person says absolutely and you're ready to go. This is oh, say, five days in advance. The day before you are set to carry out your plans you check with everybody and all is good so you spend the next morning cleaning and what not so that your evening can be fun and worry free. You know the first person will be late because they have a previous engagement so you call the second person to double check on when they'll be arriving. They don't answer and you leave a message. They call you back and ask if you can move your plans to tomorrow instead because they have "work" that needs to be finished. You ask if they can ask their parents again. They say they'll call you back. When "in five minutes" becomes two hours you call them again and are forced to leave a message. Five minutes later you receive a text from person one. It says "she's not coming". Now you know that not only did person one lie to you about what they were doing, they didn't even have to courtesy to return your call. Now person two has no reason to come because you can't carry out your plans unless all three of you are there so you tell person two not to worry about it and that you'll reschedule. You're still royally pissed at person two. So you see, you may think your friends are reliable or dependable, but they're not. Some are, yes, and some can be trusted and counted on, but most of them, the ones you usually think are pretty cool, turn out to be lying, undependable assholes. Have a great day!

"Write... or Die!"

I keep hearing the same thing over and over, "I don't care if it's good, I just need to see that you're actually doing work." -Stu

Stu is my creative writing teacher, a jewish New Yorker currently living here with his wife and kids. Whenever he asks us to read our work aloud in class everyone starts with an apology of some sort:

"It's just a draft..."

"It's really rough still..."

"I don't really like it so..."

"This isn't finished yet but..."

Then everyone reads and you realize that all it is is a bit of self-conscious fluff. "Get the Fuck away from the Fluff!" So many things that I've thought were complete shit I've shown to friends or teachers and received nothing but compliments. After read one piece aloud in my english class, my teacher found me afterwards to tell me that it was amazing and that it completely blew his mind. 

This year is the frist time i've ever submitted anything to either of our school publications: "Pulp, Pith and Zest" (non-fiction and photography) and "Other Voices" (fiction and other creative works). I did it anonymously but give me a break, it's a first step and a big one at that. That's why I'm only writing semi-anonymously now. I don't draw attention to who I am, but the information is there if you want it. So why don't i post my works here instead of these weird "journal type explanations of random things" things? I don't know. maybe I will. I tell you what... I'll go back through my folders and if I see something I like, I'll put it up under an ambiguous title like "Essay 1" or "Poem 7 - A Sestina". I'm putting my music on her too. The link is over there. --->

My videos you can see on youtube and I think that pretty much covers all forms of media. So... ya. I'm getting it out there, all at once. It's like one huge pile of shit yet it's still not big enough to see through the grass. If I'm lucky enough, some unknowing person will accidentally set foot in this pile of shit and while attempting to scrape it off their shoe, realize that it isn't shit at all. 

Wow that's a weird analogy. I just compared gaining an audience to stepping in dog shit. Well, if you find this even mildly amusing I'm pretty sure you'll like everything else I have to say here. Next time you're out and you suddenly realize you've stepped in something of "that" consistency, don't fret because it may just be the best shit ever.