People

"What did they do in the old days when they felt askew?"

I like this song, "People".

Again, I'm not quite sure why I'm here.

I'm an impulse blogger, I guess.

I am about to just spit drivel at you all.

That there, was a use of my english vocabulary.

Was my action meritorious or unctuous?

Is it both?

We may never know.

I just mistook the cereal I'm eating for a different kind of cereal.

How silly of me.

And I apologize for offending my bowl of Frosted Flakes.

It's obvious they aren't Special K.

That's like mistaking The Beatles for Justin Bieber.

It just doesn't happen.

Alas.

I am just stalling.

I am here for no other purpose.

Than to procrastinate.

Do you find it odd,

That I write in stanzas?

I find it weird,

It just happens.

No conscious effort.

No awareness of what I'm doing.

My mind just defaults to this.

Poetry-type, stanza-filled thing, here.

And I know that people write books in this way,

Not just poetry.

But you can't write essays, emails, or papers for school

In stanzas.

Nobody would understand,

And ultimately

I would fail.

Essays are written in paragraphs.

But what are stanzas, but

Condensed versions of paragraphs.

A line break separates thoughts.

And I know that's what punctuation is for.

But isn't a line break more prominent?

It gives you time to think.

Completely breaks off a thought.

Gives you a breath.

I like stanzas more than any other way

Of clumping words together.

I enjoy how they look.

They're pleasing.

Eh, I'd better stop.

I have things to do.

Things that must get done.

I bid thee adieu.

And for today, I will sappily say:

I love you.

Mexican Radio

I don't know what to say.

How is it that I'm so often at a loss for words?

Or more so, the ability to put words together coherently,

To tell the story that needs to be told?

It's 6:33 am.

And I'm listening to "Mexican Radio"

And it's really out of place...

But I still like this song a lot.

I have nothing significant to tell you,

I guess.

I'd like to say something beautiful and eloquent,

I'd love to leave you inspired.

But I'm not that good.

Not good enough to make my words have meanings

Beyond the dictionary.

And while I've always hated the phrase "Not good enough",

It's one of those horribly depressing phrases,

It works here.

So today is...

"Whatever",

In teen speak.

I like to see "Whatever" as an opportunity.

To make things better,

Awesome.

So I guess,

Go make today "whatever".

Nostalgia.

Why don't I throw in the towel now?

Just quit while there is still some chance to recover what pieces of me I have lost.

Why not give myself a chance to pick myself up of the floor.

It's as though I have been struck at 90 mph by a large locomotive.

I was barreled over and am now sprawled on the floor in distress.

Disdain.

Take your pick.

View it from whichever angle you want to.

The silence is the worst thing.

But the talking is somehow worse.

Certain days,

I hate people.

Today snowballed into one of those days.

Snowballed into a lock-yourself-away sort of dreary day,

Into this ten ton weight dropped upon me.

It's stupid.

I've no reason to be feeling so full of dread, hatred, stupidity.

But I seriously just want to go to bed.

Forget other human beings exist.

All of them.

Every last one.

Pretend I am the last of them,

Slowly approaching my end.

The end of everything I was.

Am.

What am I, but

This body?

This mind that can contribute nothing new?

I am so cold.

Physically.

Mentally.

I don't want to say a word,

To anyone.

I don't want to open my mouth for whatever reason,

For what I'd spout off would betray me.

The to do list beside me is intimidating.

I don't want to get anything done.

I don't care if some things are easy.

Most aren't.

Most are pointless,

Gradeless.

Useless.

What's useful,

Right now, is the fireplace. And my bed. And nothing else.

It could all fall away.

I'm begging it to all fall away,

To leave me in peace.

If it fell away, left me,

I could cry the tears that hold no emotions worth validation,

I could cry the tears that shouldn't be cried.

I wouldn't have to mask my face.

Bottle myself up.

I am bottling up,

Whatever causes these swings into the low, low feelings on the human spectrum.

My frustration is tangled in a painful knot,

In the pit of my stomach,

Where nothing but stomach acid lurks.

But frustration is tough,

Like steel,

un-dissolvable,

Mental emotion is greater than physical processes.

Try as I might,

I cannot warm up.

Can't fend off what ails me.

Weather, people, school.

And today started out with promise too.

I guess somewhere along the day's path, I took a wrong turn.

There is no other explanation,

For I have decided wrongly, I have made today what it is.

And it is not pleasant.

It is just not good.

A downright waste of daylight.

But what daylight? as far as my eye can strain,

I see grey.

And I see only more grey on the horizon.

Dishes and Pills

Monday, Monday.

Cold, and grey,

And cold.

Emphasis on that.

It's fall, but it may as well be winter,

For the two seasons meld together in my mind,

They are one and the same,

Grey and unfeeling.

Fall and winter (Finter? Wall?)

Make me quite depressed.

I think I need one of those silly little lamps you sit under in finter to emulate sunlight.

They are silly, but I think they work.

Nothing good comes of Finter.

I have an amusing article sitting beside me,

"If Hitler Asked You To Electrocute A Stranger, Would You? Probably."

I stole it from Schey's room,

Because as odd an article as it is,

It's also undeniably amusing, and quite a curiosity.

I'm not all the way through it though.

I'll let you know how it is...

Ahh, well.

What to say?

I'm pulling out my Finter playlist,

Gathering up all the songs that sound warm and inviting.

The Hollies, Audrey Ryan, Grey's Anatomy Soundtrack... etc, etc.

I hate the little spell check red lines under words that are actually correct.

"Finter", being a fictitious word, have no truly proper spelling,

"Grey's" is spelled right. It is.

"Schey" is a last name. Also spelled right.

"Ahh." Isn't really a word.. it's... something. But it's spelled right.

Spell Check, you're paranoid.

I had wonderfully philosophical things to say,

But then they all flew away,

Someone opened the cage, and my thought-birds flew free.

And while it's nice that they're free,

It isn't nice for me.

And being a selfish person, that's bad.

I'd love to stay and spout drivel at you all the live long day, but my Monday night sitcom is on in a few,

And it's hilarious, I'd rather not miss a minute of it.

So I bid thee adieu,

And I'm finding it increasingly cliche to say "I love you" at the end of every blog post.

It seems very teenage and obnoxious.

So, the "I love you" might go implied for a while.

*implied "I love you" here*

Ding Dong

Hello.

It's been, what, an entire day since I blogged?

What a crime.

But I can definitely chalk this weekend up as one of the best in my life.

Possibly THE Best.

Football game, homecoming craziness, Waffle House, sleepover silliness.

I've mentioned before that I love my friends, right?

Because it's so ridiculously true.

I just love them,

"Love" isn't even the right word.

It's on that level above love.

Indescribably, utmostly, undoubtedly

One of the best weekends of my life.

Sure, certain little details weren't

Perfect.

But, on the whole,

What do the details matter?

In this case, nothing.

Because things are just too good to care.

I feel like I'm forgetting some sort of obligation,

An obligation like homework,

But I know, I'm not forgetting anything.

I think it's just a guilty feeling.

I'm not found of guilt.

I feel like telling you how homecoming went.

And how I it went in my mind, as well.

First, the real version:

I spent the whole day all excited and getting ready,

Because I actually really like getting all gussied up.

And so I went about things, and got mah hairs did. I felt like I was getting married, because it as fancy. (It's still currently up...)

And we gathered at Marie's and beautified further, and took a million photos, and looked like princesses, or fancy people, or something.

And it was awesome. And then we all piled into our cars and drove about to eat and loaf about Beehive and read children's books to kill time.

And then we went to the dance. It was very spiffy, and the dresses on all the people were so lovely, and the corsages looked quite beautiful. Within say, half an hour, I'd already broken my dancing record. I actually danced, however embarrassingly, and I fist pumped, and it was so silly, and awesome. While the music was still utterly awful. But that's ok, because all you could hear were people, you only felt the music. Because the bass line just attacked you. The dance was fun, and funny. And a million times better than last year.

And while I still get that feeling that in the four years I'm at hayes, I won't go to a dance wearing a corsage and a dress that matches my date's tie.

I really doubt that I'll get a date throughout high school. And sometimes, that's ok.

Last night, it was ok. Because I was sort of too giddy to care.

And now how homecoming went in my mind?

It's pathetic, so you can stop now. Because I know nobody wants to hear about my stupid lovesickness.

I feel bad if I talk about him to anyone, because I know it's stupid. I get overcome with guilt and stupidity.

But here's how it went in my mind, regardless.

I went to homecoming with my friends, and didn't go with him. But I saw him there, and he was all alone and quite forlorn looking, so I cautiously began to talk to him, to see if he wanted to talk. He did. We talked the entire dance, We sat at the very top of the bleachers, watching people dance and talking about intelligent things like government policy and Nietzsche, and not so intelligent things like The Office. And sometime during that we subconsciously decided that we quite liked each other. So we left the dance early, and went to hang around in Delaware. Outside of the school, things relaxed, we held hands, and laughed way too loudly. Somehow, I let myself be driven to his house, and I stayed the night, and it was perfect.

I know, stupid.

But both versions of homecoming were perfect. :)

Goodnight.

I love you.

Daytripper

So that blog I told you about?

That fake one?

I decided it does have a purpose!

I like when things have purpose.

So, I decided.

Maybe I'll make this alias into an entirely other person.

I'll make a life story, for who I'd like to be.

Or what I want.

Now, you just have to find it!

(Muahahah)

And I'm not giving you hints either!

I just saw the word "Leisure" in a facebook post

And pronounced it the british way.

It was weird.

Errr...

I don't think there's much else to say,

Other than

I had another super-epic night,

With my super-eoic friends.

And the best part?

We get to do it all over again tomorrow.

There's a reason why homecoming's awesome.

So,

Goodnight.

Be off to your dreams of happy things.

And wake to a wonderful Saturday.

I haven't ranted about him recently.

Not there's nothing to rant about.

But I guess I'm just keeping it to myself.

But yes, to you, guy I like so much,

I still stare at your arms,

Your laugh makes me crack up (cuz it's funny and cute)

And you are still a very major fixture in my mind.

I'm also quite sad that you won't be at homecoming,

Though of course, I didn't expect you to be.

And when you're showing me how to edit stuff, because I'm too stupid to remember,

And you've got your arms awkwardly placed on the keyboard and mouse,

And you're a couple inches from my face,

I can't help but giggle in my mind,

And sort of freak out sometimes. (Hehe)

Because like I've said,

I love you.

However pathetic that may be.

Love Rollercoaster

I SHALL EXCLAIM MY FEELINGS OF SUPER-EPIC-NESS IN ALL CAPS!

Because seriously dudes, today is/was pretty rad.

RAD!!

I love Fridays,

I love them a lot!

:D

The "colon capital D" smiley is how I feel right now.

I am not depressed or moody.

Anti-social or pessimistic.

I am feeling super-killer-awesome right now.

And I don't see anything that's going to kill my mood.

NOTHING!

Life,

It can be so epic.

And right now,

It so is.

Sometimes there is nothing better in life than blaring Red Hot Chili Pepper's "Love Rollercoaster",

And giggling yourself silly.

Happy.

It's a good thing.