your voice comes from the bees when life is hard, you have to change. 8:57 p.m. - Wednesday, Mar. 24, 2010 So what happened here? I got tired of diaryland, I guess. Either that or I sensed change in the air and put it off until now. So here yah go. After one year and almost 3 weeks, hoonlives95.diaryland.com is coming down. To make way for a brighter, better hoonlives95.com. Honestly, I couldn't be happier. I may even come back and write something here again. But for the time being, this is just gonna be for reference. The new domain name (hoonlives95.com) was powered by a friend of mine making me a very late birthday present. Therefore I'm very happy that I had to do almost no work. I don't have to delete anything! And I love every single one of you that's stuck with me since day one. Cos there's a whole new era on its way. And it's beautiful. "I don't feel the sun's comin' out today, And oh as I fade away, When you feel your life ain't worth living, And then they'll paint it. And oh as I fade away, Think about it,
i've got nothing to say 9:24 p.m. - Sunday, Mar. 21, 2010 I apologise again. I know one person who's not happy that I haven't been posting. But honestly, these past few days have been crazy and I haven't had time to get onto the computer. Crazy in a good way though. In a very good way. Just that I've been exhausted for most of it, so I can't really sit down at the computer and do stuff like Facebook or Gmail or Diaryland. And for that I'm sorry. So, another apology and an empty promise to not do it again. I'm not going to let this one die. Also, THE FUCKING DIARYLAND JUST DECIDED TO DELETE MY ENTIRE FUCKING POST AND I HATE THIS FUCKING WEBSITE. WHAT THA HELL. I'm not even... no. I'm not gonna finish this one. Ignominious fucking blog post. Think about it, it's a great big world & you don't believe in nothin' 10:49 p.m. - Wednesday, Mar. 17, 2010 Some people change, their life is rearranged, even when they're so far from home. One of the whitest Sugar Ray songs I've ever heard. On to the topic of discussion. Whassap my homies. I haven't written ANYTHING since last Thursday and for that I feel absolutely despicable. I don't want to fall back into that habit of not writing for months at a time. So I'm not going to! And honestly, I feel a lot better having filled out like half a paragraph already. So... welcome home. Our top story tonight: why I've been gone this long. That's a mix of things that I'm not at liberty to tell you dear readers. Let me say that it has been raining for quite a long time now, and even though it's stopped now, it was still raining before and I need to acknowledge that. Because for most of last week I had an umbrella, or to be more specific, a hoodie. Although the umbrella analogy works better. Then, sometime in the middle of this whole not-posting thing, it kind of shook in the wind, and I was afraid it'd turn inside out and fly out of my hands. But thankfully the wind died down a little bit. I caused the wind. It's my fault and I'm sorry for the wind. But it's not as harsh anymore, I don't think. It's a breeze. And it hasn't rained since. [[I love how that works as an analogy and how it also applies to the weather this week.]] MOVING ON! In other news; I'm gonna end up having to restring Annabelle. And I have no idea how to go about that. But my brother's gonna give me a hand, and then... it'll be alright. She just isn't holding a tuning very well. Like it'll be fine for a few chords, and then it'll fall out of tune somehow. I don't know what it is but changing the strings can't hurt. I'm thinking about taking a facebook break. I dunno why. It's just kind of a nice idea, not to have to log on every day and respond to feed questions and etc. I mean I definitely got myself into this all on my own, but... seriously. Hormones need to knock it off. Also I wanted to apologise for not posting something on the 11th. That's twice that I've done it now. I just haven't been writing at all, and that's not good. Because now I see what's really inside of me, and I can work to improve it, and to see what I did wrong before and to learn how NOT to make those mistakes again. Don't do drugs. Think about it, and the road's still long, but you come along 7:10 a.m. - Wednesday, Mar. 17, 2010 You're going to want to kill me. First off it's St Paddy's day and I'm decked out in all-green. So that's obnoxious. Secondly I haven't posted ANYTHING since last Thursday, which was like four or five sentences at best. So in reality I haven't posted something worthwhile reading since Wednesday. And I'm not going to until tonight! SUCK IT. Think about it, please don't be long, please don't you be very long 9:15 p.m. - Thursday, Mar. 11, 2010 That and "Flying" by The Beatles have been stuck in my head all day. And for good reason. That, and High Life by Counting Crows. Fantastic songs. All of 'em. I hate to say that my post tonight is going to be cut short by a combination of tiredness, distractions and two-year-olds. But it's the truth, and they're absolutely delightful. The cutest children you will ever see. Photos for facebook later. Think about it, if it was you & me and nobody else, would you want me to want to be ready to go? 9:37 p.m. - Tuesday, Mar. 09, 2010 Would you wanna take the lights down low? Good, good song. I don't think I'd give it as high of a rating as some of the others because of Max Collins' obnoxious but recognisably corny voice, or the cheap bass effects. Maybe Eve 6 should just not involve him at all. Then again they're broken up. I think? Alright. So in a normal situation I'd be profusely apologising for skipping posts like this. I think this is the longest I've gone since before my birthday. But right now I'm sitting here eating Arby's fries and soda- yes, both from Arby's, minus the delicious roast beef sammie- and it's 9:45 pm and I still have to practice cello when all I wanna do is curl up in bed and fall asleep and not wake up until tomorrow morning after 1st period and then go back to sleep until the end of the day, AND I'm positive that by the end of this week, my mother will kill me. So, you all win. Why would she do such a thing? Well, the grading policy is such that I- the self-proclaimed procrastinating extraordinaire- have an E in science, and a high D in Spanish. She gave me the ultimatum of ten days from last Thursday in which my grades must be up, or I'm grounded. THIS DOES NOT MEAN THAT I CANNOT, NOR WILL NOT, PULL MY GRADES UP. It's just stressful. And I know I put myself in the shit position of having this massive workload on my back, but still. I haven't caught up with sleep in like three weeks. In any event. She's giving me this ultimatum, which I doubt will be TOO hard. Oh well. I've lost my train of thought. My mind was elsewhere. That's redundant, I suppose. Moving on! Nah. That's a lie. I'm gonna go dry my hair and go to bed now. I finished my homework and makeup work so hop off. Think about it, maybe this year will better than the last 1:06 a.m. - Saturday, Mar. 06, 2010 Man, I hope so. I mean. Let me rephrase that. My wording of things is just kind of off at the moment. So I can't really talk. So pardon me for not making sense. Last year was interesting. But everything before recent events wasn't too much fun. So that's part of last year, in a way. I don't know. I'm just gonna stop talking now. My face hurts. I don't know why I had to say that. Or why I had to go all paranoid thirty-five-year-old woman in such a conversation. I don't... see why it's such a necessity for me to do that to everyone who brings that kind of stuff up. And then I go and shred down my standards later on. But this is gonna be different. I know that. I really do. I just really don't want to lose what I have now. So I'm not gonna worry about it, and I'm gonna turn the depressing Counting Crows song off. No. I'm gonna let it finish because that's what it deserves. I want to let it finish. It should be a proven scientific fact that the premiere C major chord in Space Oddity by David Bowie is therapeutically uplifting and heartwarming. Even if the song is depressing in itself, the music is just... god damn. You can't beat Bowie. Anyway. My face actually hurts. I'm not sure what the hell's wrong now. But I'm hoping it's just a temporary thing, or that I'm not getting some nasty skin disease. Which wouldn't be something to joke about, but still. Yeah. It's still 1 am on a Friday. I just need to go to bed and sleep all this unimportant stuff off. Cos so far I've gotten along without overthinking thinks. And it's going very well. So I'm gonna continue with it. Also. This is to the individual around here who wore a green long-sleeved T-shirt and tan shorts today, and has brown hair and drives a white Honda. You sir are an absolute, genuine ASSHOLE and I hope you, and everyone else who reads this blog, knows that. I don't hate. I strongly dislike. But this is just fucking repulsive and I don't like it when people do it. Think about it, i've come to wish aloud among the overdressed crowd, come to witness now the sinking of this ship 11:40 p.m. - Thursday, Mar. 04, 2010 An amazing, amazing song. I figure I deserve such a good song. Today was one of those test days. And I mean that in both respects; in that I was tested by the events that took place today, and that I actually had a test today. As in, a test in class. Which was part of why today was a test. I don't like the word "test" anymore. But it was one of those days when things just seem to go wrong for no good reason, especially when things were going so well. In the other world that I live in, where I don't have to worry about things like tests and people and friends and family, everything is- and will continue to be- exponentially great. And I'm happy for this. But the two worlds are starting to come together, and that's both enlightening and scary at the same time. There are definitely things I would never bring out of one world and into the other, but at the same time I'm seeing this happen with certain things that I never thought would leave. And I don't know why they are; it's a safe bet to say that I trust the occupants of wherever I'm living to not judge me for them. Metaphors. My dear, dear metaphors. But in one world everything decides to throw itself at me. The shitty feeling I have in the pit of my stomach, and my godawful headache, is probably emphasized by the comparison of just how amazing one world is to the overall disparity of the other one. And then when things start turning for the worse, I can only go back to the other world and hope that things will resolve themselves. Again. Metaphors. Everything's alright now, though. It's like a really weird orchestral piece that's in a saddening, depressing minor for the whole piece, and then has this beautiful resolve out of nowhere. Like the C# coming out in an A chord, when for the entire piece it's been C natural. It's like "what is this?" Not to say that I'm complaining. I'm happy for the C#, believe me. I just didn't expect it to come in the form that it did. But I'm happy that it did. Tomorrow will be a good day. Even though for the most part I'm going to be trudging through it half-asleep, and I'll get home and just collapse on my bed. And I won't resurface til Saturday morning, and I'll have the weirdest dreams when I'm in such a deep sleep, and it'll be delightful. Today's a challenge to overcome, but there are definitely good things waiting at the finish line. Think about it, some people fall in love and touch the stars 9:30 p.m. - Wednesday, Mar. 03, 2010 Some people fall in love and find Quicksand. I love that song. Kind of a lot. Not exactly fitting for tonight, but it sure is pretty. I don't like being torn between two sides of an argument. Let's get right out there and say that straight up with that one. Okay? I love you both. So don't make me pick sides, because it's probably gonna piss one of you off and I don't do that. I'm indecisive, as you can see. I don't know why, but these past two days have been really depressing for some reason. They're just really down and gross and sad for some reason, and I don't know what it is. I'm gonna go ahead and blame it on the nasty weather, and stop complaining about how fucking fantastically my life is going right now. Because comparatively, my life is just too cool for words. Honestly. I couldn't ask for anything more right now. (Except, y'know. The image of Roger Ebert to be erased from my mind.) I'm sorry. I know he's having a hard time, and that's not funny. But I just don't enjoy looking at chinless people. Mmkay? Mmkay. God damn it, it's 9:30 and I still haven't touched my math homework. How did this happen?? I really hate high school sometimes. But more than that I hate how things distract me so easily. Think about it, nothin's ever gonna come between my dumptruck and me 10:29 p.m. - Monday, Mar. 01, 2010 HAPPY ONE YEAR ANNIVERSARY!!!!!! Yes, all you diligent little Hoon-heads that have been following me since March of last year [of which there are like two], it's been a full year since my first post here. You probably can't go back and see it [I really hate the staff that seem to ignore my emails because I'm not a Supergold customer], but the first entry started out with an introverted Q & A section. Which is a decent way to start things off. OUR TOP STORY TONIGHT: new colours because it is, in fact, the first of March. I was going to revert to the original colours, which were navy blue and white [with the sidebar clicky buttons working and everything], but it looked atrocious and I'm a pussy. So, Indiana blue 'n white with Shannon Hoon yellow. For the bees. I'm a dork. Continuing on. In other news. I'm considering switching hosts again, and this is a serious thing for me to think about. I don't want to take a blogspot because they design everything for you, and I don't want a xanga because their emails are obnoxious, and I don't want a wordpress because they're just too Tumblr-y. However, Tumblr is a concept I'd like to look into; thing is I have no idea what I'd name it. Because I already have a hoonlives95. What else do you do with that? hoonlives96? I think not. In the world where I'm not completely lost in html boxes and the comforting keyboard noises my computer makes, things are going exponentially well. I'm actually really happy now, considering where I used to be [if any of you need a reference point, try Friday January 15th], and it can only get better from here. Oh wait. You CAN'T look at January 15th because they won't let you. Argh. Well. I think the only way for me to be able to write for another year is for me to get off the computer and go live life. Which, right now, means curling up in a certain white hoodie and falling asleep to Iron & Wine. Yeah. Happy Anniversary, everybody. Here's to hoonlives95.diaryland.com. Enjoi. Don't ever stop thinking about it, just one toss of that fateful cigarette 11:29 p.m. - Sunday, Feb. 28, 2010 What a fantastic song. It's not exactly fitting for the tone of this post. Which will probably end up being all tight-wound and crazy-like again. I apologise in advance. I'm being pulled away from the computer, because it is, in fact, Sunday night, and my parents are, in fact, reasonable human beings. On with it. I hate Bethesda. Have I ever told you that? I just despise being there. It's like the people can see through my wallet, and see that I'm not a typical skinny, Caucasian, Abercrombie-toting stick figure like the rest of em. I have thoughts and emotions and opinions, and I can express them easily and often times, without thinking. So walking into Barnes & Noble surrounded by the cream-white jackholes giving me funny looks cos I don't have a huge deer sewn across my shirt kind of makes me angry. A little bit. And I wish I weren't on facebook right now. I wish I had my music on and was completely unattached to everything else, and that when I got back from here, from my little hole of narcissism, that everything would somehow resolve itself. Cos that's the way it's always been, and that's the way I like it. That's how I want it to be. ...that was a Paul Simon quote... I need more sleep. I think I'm gonna go fix that. Right now. But I think everyone should find their little narcissism hole, and just get lost in it. Because often times, that's all you have. Think about it, i didn't know, i didn't know it was nothing new 11:00 p.m. - Saturday, Feb. 27, 2010 Diaryland is actually starting to remember my username and password for Safari. Or vicey versey. I don't know. You crazy kids and your technology. I really don't want my stuff getting rooted through, and you all know how that feels. Righto. Today happened to be a very good day. And tomorrow's gonna be a good day too. Monday's going to suck, at least comparatively. But then Tuesday and Wednesday are gonna make up for it all. No, I'm not going to go into detail. But it involves... big hands. Hahaha. I don't know why people are so surprised. It's like, I happen to have the capacity for this kind of stuff. But mean people get in my way sometimes, and it's hard to be a sweet gentile person when people are being like that. So some people don't always see what's really inside. And that shit actually matters, man. Like, legit. Anywhoop. What did I have to say? Oh right. I was in a Dunkin Donuts, and I got an awesome deal for 6 doughnuts, and then there was a cop in front of me buying doughnuts and it was really funny, and then Don't Stop Believin' was playing. And for some reason I really, really loved America. It was just one of those really cool moments. And then, y'know. Driving down the highway listening to The Raveonettes, eating doughnuts. Can't beat that with a stick. I've actually been thinking a lot about that phrase. "Can't beat that with a stick." I'm just wondering: why would you WANT to? Unless it's a double meaning, like "beating" as in succeeding over another being interpreted with "beating" as in with implements, aiming for destruction. Yes. This is legitimately what I think about on a day-to-day basis. I know. I'm a dork. But I'm a cool dork. Anywho. That's about all I have to say for one night. Just remember that anytime you know that you're not having a good time, or you weren't having a good time before, or you won't be having a good time in the near future, that there's gonna be something out there to make you happy, in one way or another. You've just got to find it, and recognise it for what it is. Think about it, P.S. New Tumblr post! look who's here, to save my soul, sweet night, she's on a roll 11:27 p.m. - Friday, Feb. 26, 2010 One of the better Fridays in a long time. I mean I usually have fine Fridays. There's nothing wrong with them. Sometimes, though, they can be disappointing. But today was nothing but euphoric, and fantastic, and optimistic. And another -ic word I don't even know. Oh boy. So. Sometime ago I told all my diligent readers, with your yellow lined note pads and your Ticonderoga pencils [I'm a weirdo] that you'd be able to tell when I found a "someone else." ...I think you could already tell, no? Oh how I love redundancy. The snow ended up coming today, which was fine. It didn't stick at all, it just kind of floated in. In little tiny flurries, and stuck to my hair. And the sky had patches of blue, and the sun shone through in some spots, as the snow just kept coming down. I saw Valentine's Day today. It wasn't a bad film, actually. I mean, it's a Garry Marshall movie, and he and his sister are two of my favourite directors. It's this decade's Love Actually. Not to say that Love Actually is obsolete or old in any way, but that the new generation [Good God, that's US] would be able to relate to, and understand more. You can't make Blackberry jokes in 2001. I mean you could, but people would think you were talking about the fruit. And I'm sorry, but that's still goddamn scary. In other news, Annabelle is doing very well. I've officially fallen in love, I have to say. She's just fantastic in every way that all the other guitars I've played haven't been. Only problem is the G string likes to come loose a little too often for my taste. But, it's all good. I just need to be gentle. And I'm realising now that I just filled out a whole paragraph about my relationship with the sexiest guitar to grace my living room. Ever. Alright, well I've said what I need to. Now I'm going to go get what I really need, and what I haven't gotten for a couple of weeks now- legitimate SLEEP. I told you February would be great. Think about it, hallelujah, hallelujah, joyfully we lark about 6:58 a.m. - Friday, Feb. 26, 2010 It's actually an Eddie Izzard song. But again. It's on my iPod, so it counts as music. I have t-minus two minutes to write a slightly decent blog post about the crazy dream I had last night. But the thing is, I can't remember all of it. Only specific parts. I remember that we were talking to one of our family friends, who looked a shit ton like James Earl Jones and was named Atticus. And then we were taking ANOTHER road trip, with my brother this time, after which I had to go to school. And school was a combination of my middle school, my high school, and a Comfort Inn. It was just plain weird. Oh, and then my friend kept sending me txt messages, and it kept filling up my inbox so I couldn't receive any more. And then I stayed up so late that my mom got mad [in the dream] and I thought that she would come in the bathroom & kill me for being awake so late. And then I WOKE UP at like five o'clock in the morning. What the fuck, subconscious. Think about it, call my name through the grain, and i hear you scream again 10:48 p.m. - Thursday, Feb. 25, 2010 Not the best of songs lyrically, but the tune has been stuck in my head all god damn day and I'm associating it with certain memories that I'm not about to disclose to my public, public Diaryland. But it's still a semi-decent song, and I like it. So you all can take a flying fuck at the moon. Today was a fabulous day. It was a Hoon revival day. I think it was because I actually decided to re-draw the little tattoo I have on my ankle for the first time in a week. So naturally, Shannon Hoon was up there doing good things. Although, and this is delusional but bear with me, I think my great-aunt was in on it with him, too. Because instead of believing that God or Jesus or someone that I haven't directly heard from, or witnessed their presence, is up there making all my fantastic days even better, I'd like to think it's the work of people that actually knew me and love me for who I am. Like my great-aunt. It was supposed to snow another five inches or more today. I was very happy when I woke up to find NO snow in the air, or new snow on the ground. Instead, I saw Hoon clouds. I got to sleep in a little bit, and got to eat breakfast (on a weekday) for once, because I had a "dentist appointment." This means that my mom's alarm clock didn't go off, and I was too lazy to get up when mine went off. So instead of rushing for a redundancy, which would've been stupid, in my opinion, my mom went "Take your time," and I got to do things in the morning. Like eat breakfast, and redo my ankle thing. And then I did virtually no work all day, because I came late to first block where we watched part of Romeo & Juliet, and second block was orchestra, and then in science all we did was scrape rocks. Then at lunch people were taking photos of me, and videos of the weird noises I can make. I'm like that guy in the Geico commercial, only female and skinny and slightly attractive. ANYwho. And here is where the day went from good to great: Instead of spending an hour in a cello lesson, I instead went with my mom to the music store my brother works at, and was given the best motherfucking birthday present in the whole god damn world, after which I got to eat Jerry's. Yeah. She's a 1970's Epiphone Les Paul. Plays like a god damn dream. She has a neck like an acoustic and is a little chunkier than what I'm used to. But she's still gorgeous. I named her Annabelle. It came from a Logo film about a Catholic schoolteacher who falls for her rebellious smoking lesbian of a new student, Annabelle. Oh how I love Logo films. So I came home at around four or five, and didn't stop playing until my dad got home at like eight thirty. It was really cool, to just be able to let yourself out through something like that. I busted my bass callous open fingerpicking. And then I lay back on the persian carpet in my living room and played Drops of Jupiter, singing it at the top of my lungs. I needed that, I think. That's my amazing day. So if you don't believe that he's up there after all this, then you should go through it again and read it. Don't LOOK at it. READ it. Think about it, you know it's time that we grow old & do some shit; i like it all that way 10:12 p.m. - Wednesday, Feb. 24, 2010 Oh what a fabulous song that is. Why is it so sad though? It's such a lyrically optimistic song. If you read it out loud without singing it, it's just a fantastically romantic poem. Kind of. I'm pretty sure it's about some sort of fellatio or another. But at the same time, that one line-- see short description-- is just epic and euphoric all in itself. "... now ..." Needless to say I'm listening to the radio version of it. Which is a good two minutes longer than the original 6. But it's still a fucking amazing song. Haha. Oh boy. That's about the longest that I've ever gone on about one song. Wow. Uhm, I hope you all benefited from my Broken Social Scene rant. They're among a select few artists that you can't listen to everyday; they're just so musically rich and deep. It would lose its meaning if it turned into a daily thing. Like how some songs seem to just fade out and seem old & boring after a certain period of time. These artists are just too good for that to happen; you have to draw it out over a long time in order to fully appreciate it. Hell, I only listen to Lemonade once every few months, if that. Because again, it's just too dense. You can't eat an entire dark chocolate cake in one minute (unless you're just wasteful), you have to have little slices every now and again. And then when the cake is gone, you don't feel all gross and overfed. You feel satisfied. And then you bake a new cake. ...and now I'm hungry again. I think this is one of the more interesting rants I've gone on in a long while. Has this replaced the entire post? I believe it has. I didn't have anything truly interesting to say, come to think of it. Other than the fact that I'm actually early tonight; it's not 11 PM yet. Haha. And now my iPod's playing Italian Leather Sofa. God I love this thing. This post doesn't really make sense. I think I was waiting to fall in love in the key of C, like that Wilco song. Then I discovered that all I really needed was two doors down in B flat. I don't know. But it really is time that we grow old & do some shit. Think about it, with you or without you, sweetheart, the hellhound's here 10:22 p.m. - Tuesday, Feb. 23, 2010 Today was the first time I can remember something happening six hours ago, and my smile not going away. I don't know what it was about today. All of it was fantastic- some parts exponentially more than others- in its own way. I mean, you can't beat surprise latkes for dinner. Fucking amazing. But today still had its downsides, as every day does, and every day will. We had to watch a Holocaust video in history today. And even my history teacher cracking jokes about her ethnicity- "Don't hate cos we procreate!!"- didn't really bring us back into normalcy. Not for me, anyway. The Holocaust was just such a sickening concept, and the fact that the people in charge of a NATION followed through with it is terrifying. And the fact that people still hate with that ferocity today is even scarier. And there's my downer of the post. I hope you enjoyed it for what it was worth. In other news; I've almost completely fallen in love with The Raveonettes. They're the only band I know- besides Blind Melon or Incubus- that can make me think of fields, the beach, AND home, all at the same time in their own aspects. The guitars sound like Rickenbackers, and for that I respect them greatly. For those of you who didn't know, one day I'm gonna own a Rickenbacker 12. Just so I can say that I own one. And I'm gonna play it every god damn day that my fingers function. Ahem. The Raveonettes, right. They're just a completely all-around decent band. The synth is over the top in a way that makes it swell and explode in your ears, but not poppy or cheap or glitter-soaked like some of the other stuff out there today. I see the sixties and seventies, and some of 2010 as well. They're Swedish, I think? Alright. Enough indie dogshit for one day. I hope everyone's had a fantastic Tuesday. Because now it's gone with the wind. [SKYNYRD!] But Wednesday is very soon, and after that Thursday. And, even if it doesn't seem possible sometimes, Friday still lingers in the future. God, I am so fucking cised. Think about it, we live in a wheel where everyone steals, and when we rise, it's like strawberry fields 10:45 p.m. - Sunday, Feb. 21, 2010 This song is fantastic. Hopefully that makes up for the fact that I didn't post for three straight days. All you little Hoon-heads [stealing a page from Mitchell Davis' book] seemed to have survived without them though. Not much happened, except of course I turned fifteen. Officially, it happened at around 4 p.m. on Friday. At that time I was listening to my iPod on the way down to Richmond, looking back at the cars behind us and flipping through this giant style magazine my mom got me. It's actually rather enjoyable. And then I got a cheese-filled soft pretzel and watched the sun set, listening to Queen and taking phone photos. Twitpic that bitch. And then for my birthday I got a bunch o' swag, including three CD's from my brother. "amorica. by The Black Crowes, Mobile Estates by Citizen King, and a Smashing Pumpkins album. And then my sister bought me a very eighties-chic Red Sox hat [oh yes, that's a possible adjective, and it applies] and we had a huge breakfast at Joe's Inn. I love it down there, I really do. And then today was a really nice day in some ways, and in others it blew. But I think that's the balance I'm looking for- days with moments where you nearly cry tears of joy, and moments where you nearly cry tears of sadness. Oh yes. It happens. So here's to being fifteen- so far, it's pretty fantastic. And the rest of it's gonna be just as great, I can tell. Oh, side-note. I might just update random shit to the Tumblr, regardless of the time of the month. Cos I have some slightly decent stuff I'm sitting on, and I don't really want to wait too long to post it, cos then it gets stale and I don't like it as much. And after awhile, I'm gonna wonder why I wanted to post it. Therefore, irregular Tumblr posts. Nothing in the immediate future, though, I need to finish up a LOT of stuff for school. Oh well. Enjoy. Think about it, how's it going to be when you don't know me anymore? 9:53 p.m. - Thursday, Feb. 18, 2010 I really do wonder this sometimes. It brings certain things to my attention. Particularly because the person that comes to mind right now probably won't be affected by it at all. But I will. I don't think I'll forget anytime soon. Enh, You Get What You Give. Tomorrow- well, no. In just about two hours, it's gonna be my birthday. I'll be fifteen in a matter of hours. Now it's at the intimidating stage. What's gonna happen next year? How am I gonna change? Who's gonna change around me? And is this change good or bad? Or are we all just gonna turn into kangaroos and hop off? Haha. I thought that was pretty good. I do, however, think that things are going to change for the better. I'm really excited to see what fifteen has in store for me. But at the same time, it's not gonna be the same year as last year. And last year was pretty cool. Even if half of it was spent worrying about stuff that didn't matter, and the other half was not worrying enough about things that do, I had a great time being fourteen. Another thing. Why do we prejudice people on their age? I mean, it's not like I can fix being fourteen. [Fifteen, soon. God, that's gonna be a pain in the ass.] So why are you gonna get on my case for it? I mean, I don't really like being stuck down here in the disregarded age bracket ["Eh, fourteen, fifteen, they're the same really"], but I'm not Marty McFly. I don't have a time-traveling DeLorean. Maybe someday, but not today. For now, I'm here, and that's that. I can't really change that yet. But in a few hours I'm not going to be quite as small and therefore disregarded in the way of opinions and things to say. ...maybe. So tomorrow I'm getting a piggyback ride through the main hallway of my school. Courtesy of my very good friend who shall still remain nameless. I'm going to be taking a video of it, and photos. I think it's an occasion to remember, even if this year turns out to be completely uneventful. I like taking pictures of things. Plus my camera is a beautiful machine. So it'll all be good. Oh. I mean to apologise for not posting last night. I really did mean to, I promise. It's not gonna happen again. Really. Haha. The empty promises to an empty, invisible wall in front of me. Sigh. Tomorrow should be interesting, to say the least. On, lusty gentleman. Think about it, icing on a cake, or a serene translucent lake 10:55 p.m. - Tuesday, Feb. 16, 2010 That part of the song always seemed so antsy and touchy and tightly drawn to me. And that's how I feel right now, so that's the lyric I'm gonna use. Cool? Cool. Alright. As you can probably tell, the walls seem to have eyes tonight. Today was a good day, for reasons I cannot divulge onto my Dear Diaryland. [HA! Play on words.] But soon enough, everything will clear up and become wide and open. Like where? Indiana. Also I FINALLY came into the possession of my first Indiana quarter today. Because the quarters made after the year 2000 all have state names & decorations on the back of them, and for the longest time I had been looking for one that had Indiana on it. So my friend found one today, and gave it to me. I love her. I went to the orthodontist today. Not too much fun. There was a girl in the chair next to me- a skinny white girl, not that different from yours truly, if you're wondering- and she kept going "Ow, ow, ow," audibly. And being rather obnoxious, if I do say so, to someone who was at the time getting THEIR teeth scraped as well. So she went on to say "You know I've had braces for a whole YEAR now..." And I realised just how conceited Americans are. Because we have enough money to not only put expensive, finely crafted metal shit on our kids' teeth, WE HAVE THE MONEY TO DO SO WHEN THEY'RE IN ELEMENTARY SCHOOL. In other countries, if a kid gets their tooth knocked out, then the kid gets their tooth knocked out. That's about as far as it goes. And, that kind of surprised me. Then again this is coming from a 4 year survivor. So, you tell me. T-minus four days. Think about it, beauty queen of only eighteen, she had some trouble with herself 9:45 p.m. - Monday, Feb. 15, 2010 I fucking love this song. Excuse me, but it's just amazing. If you don't know what it is, I think you're living under a hole. That's just my personal opinion. Ahem. So last Friday I meant to give a personal shout out to someone. And seeing as I never really got around to it, I figure I'll take care of it tonight. I wanted to mention just how lucky I am to have such a fantastic cello teacher. Now this is kind of out of my element to say, but I'm actually beginning to understand a lot of what he's saying, and apply it to my playing. It already sounds a shit ton better than it did in September. Not to say that my orchestra teacher hasn't been helpful; he definitely has. But there's more of an individual focus in my private lessons, and I hadn't really gotten that before. So this is a giant thank you to my cello teacher. You've helped me come a long way already, and there's still so much more. See? I can be sincere. I just have to choose sincerity. My parents took me out to lunch today; after driving through the traffic nightmare that was our city's downtown, we got to my favourite restaurant. Parkway Deli. It's a fantastic restaurant. I had my first cheese blintz. Completely euphoric. For those of you who haven't happened upon this amazing dish, it's basically Ricotta or cream cheese inside in a crepe, or a really thin pancake, wrapped up like a little burrito of joy. I love these things. The first words out of my mouth (besides "oh my God") were "You need to teach me how to make these." Mmm, cheese blintzes. So there goes my food rant of the day. Maybe one day I'll just keel over after eating too much, and that'll be the end of me. Meh. Not a bad way to go out. The rest of February is looking better and better by the day. Think about it, everyone was wearing fingerless gloves 10:49 p.m. - Sunday, Feb. 14, 2010 The title song is actually a pretty decent song in itself. Seeing as I'm already obsessed with him, it can't really hurt to emphasize it on Valentine's Day. ...oh, Valentine's Day. I didn't think that it'd be as big of a deal for me. I honestly thought I could get through it without feeling any sense of remorse or regret. And then 7 pm rolled around, and I started feeling less like the boxer and more like the bag. Valentine's Day is just one of those occasions where you can only feel truly happy when you're in a situation that you're actually content with. Even if you don't have anyone to spend V'day with; the fact is that you're able to cope with all the other people being happy around you. And when you aren't happy in your situation, it's not fun. You just feel kind of debilitated and bummed out, because it seems like everyone else is happy but you. But then, if you can realise what it is you need to do, then you take that initiative to get off your ass and do it, instead of wallowing in self-pity and not making anything of it. You just learn to pick yourself back up again, over time, and brush the dirt off your pants, and go "Let's move on." Cos there's not enough time to waste being unhappy. There's a pretty well-written, if anything, song out there. I thought about it today; the music might not be much, but the words are really strong. Today, at least. If you want to take a listen, go buy her CD, because there isn't a decent version on YouTube. But I just figured I'd post the lyrics so you can get a better sense of what the song's about. It's actually a really pretty song. So... enjoy? "We switched to Jay Leno And Bruno said what Anders said some producers said to young Lennon, 'They can't all be ballads, Julian.' Open up your eyes & see the beauty over there, And Bruno said what Anders said some producers said to young Lennon, 'They can't all be ballads, Julian' 'Get out there and be seen, Doesn't matter what you look like, And Bruno said what Anders said some producers said to young Lennon, 'They can't all be ballads, Julian.'" Here's to V'day, 2010. Hopefully the rest of the month will be different. Think about it, they can't tell me who to be, cos i'm not what they see 10:39 p.m. - Saturday, Feb. 13, 2010 God damn it Safari. Why do you hate me? I just made a good half-a-page entry, and then you decided to find a bug in YouTube. And you're "sorry for the inconvenience." Eh. I forgive you. It's better than Firefox, anyway. ...such is my introverted conversation with an internet browser... Ahem. Today was alright. I managed to elude posting yesterday for some reason. The computer was taken away before I could actually sit down and write something, so my apologies. I wonder why I'm so keen on skipping Fridays? Today is technically a Friday though, because we have Monday off from school. Everyone's calling it our second winter break, because we got a whole week off due to the "weather." Haha. I mean I love snow, I really do. I love watching it snow. I just don't like it when you're wearing your favourite sneakers that happen to have holes in them, and you end up freezing your toes off because you have to trek through the ice and shit that's on the ground now. And I really don't like the one-lane streets going around now, only because there really ARE other lanes hidden beneath the snow. But when you're driving with someone who already has a slight impatience for other drivers, and there's four feet of snow on the ground, it's not exactly fun being in the passenger's seat. I digress. Maybe I should go back and rewrite everything that was erased when Safari quit. Or maybe I already know what I was saying, and I don't really need to tell anyone else. Hm. Yeah. Sounds good. Valentine's Day is impending, and here it goes: Happy, exciting, amazing, euphoric wishes to everyone who's happily connected to someone else- boyfriends, girlfriends, fiancees, wives, husbands, friends-with-benefits, pet rabbits, what have you's- on Valentine's Day. And please. If you're not happy where you are, take it as a warning signal to change that fact yourself instead of waiting for someone else to. Mmkay? Mmkay. T-minus 6 days until I turn fifteen, by the way. :) But what I do know is that February's gonna be a pretty good month, from what I can see. Think about it, stick THAT in your fusebox. 7:55 p.m. - Thursday, Feb. 11, 2010 I... I think I've fallen in love with ACDC. After only 4 tracks off of High Voltage. This may be the greatest band since Blind Melon. I don't use that lightly at all. I may cry. On the completely flip side, it is my personal opinion- coming from a regular appreciator of the band- that Lynyrd Skynyrd's "Freebird" is fourteen minutes too long. There's a great Facebook note floating around called "17 Reasons Why Gay Marriage is 'Wrong.'" It's hysterical. I love it to death. I'm considering posting it here sometime. Oh. Also. Recent events have brought certain things to my attention, events involving the readers of my blog. Or whatever you want to call this miniature piece of me. For whoever reads this, or doesn't read this, please know that I'm not putting anything up here but the honest truth, and the honest & true me. I'm not changing anytime soon; I'm also not leaving anytime soon. I already have limited space on this page, why would I fill it with dishonesty? Also this shouldn't be read all at once. It's a blog, not a novel. Having said that, you shouldn't judge off of just one post. If I'm having a particularly Poe day, I certainly don't want you to think that I'm like that all the time. If you just look at the contrast in moods between one post and the next, and the one before that, you can see that I'm not always going to be the same person behind the screen. So, beware. Try it in small doses. "Short Bursts." Anything's alright, in moderation. Think about it, [P.S. It's the eleventh. You can go straight to the Tumblr.] maybe we'll be friends; i guess we'll see 6:11 p.m. - Wednesday, Feb. 10, 2010 Now I'm the slightest bit pissed off, because the video that a friend of mine just finished making cut off the absolute best part of the song. EVER. That's my second favourite Third Eye Blind song; you can't fuck it up. "I remember the stupid things, the mood rings, the bracelets and the beads, There. More later. And now, it's much later. 12:35 the morning after. And the problem has kind of been solved? I don't know. I think everything will eventually work out how it's supposed to. In other news, night sledding proves to be a fantastic way to get an adrenaline rush. I always liked the idea of snowsports. We just never went to like, ski resorts, or snowboarding, or those fake-snow-mountain places with the fam. I suppose it's something for me to get out there and do on my own. Maybe? I don't know. But that's fun, and so is making midnight snow angels for Shannon Hoon. (For those of you wondering how to accomplish this: walk straight towards the centre of a field. Then, when you're about halfway there, turn around and start moonwalking in 3 feet of snow. When you fall back on your ass, that's where the snow angel's gonna be. And then you just lie back and look up at the stars, and just breathe. Then, when you think you're done, you stand up and walk back in the same steps you took before.) I'm just a loser, excuse me. But that's fun. And that girl really is like a sunburn I would like to save. Think about it, i... wanna publish zines, and rage against machines 11:31 p.m. - Tuesday, Feb. 09, 2010 There are just too many people in the world who don't know what that song is. "Flagpole Sitta" by Harvey Danger. There you go. It's one of those that you can't listen to more than once in a day without it getting redundant and the slightest bit obnoxious. But still a good song every now and again. That was possibly the most repulsive burp I've ever committed. I'm at my friend's house at the moment. Not Bean, a different friend. This is the second post I've done at her house. What to say. It's snowing again. Well, not at the moment, but it will definitely be snowing soon. We're supposed to get another 10-20 inches tonight and tomorrow. So, we're out of school until next Tuesday. I have to say, I'm pretty happy about all of this snow. But they picked the wrong week for the school closures. My birthday is NEXT Friday, Al Roker. Why he controls the weather now, I have no idea. I saw From Paris With Love yesterday. I've concluded that John Travolta is the new Mr. T. ALSO, they're making a movie about the A-Team. Or, they already have, and it will be in theatres soon. I'm excited. Anyway. We're off to listen to Ke$ha and then wake up like P. Diddy. Which, I'm sorry, but can only be accomplished with my amazing yellow Russian fur hat. Which I hope to get replaced soon. And after all this, everyone should remember: life ain't so shitty. Think about it, slept like a bucket of snow 12:52 a.m. - Tuesday, Feb. 09, 2010 It's been a long time since I've last heard that song. I should fix that. Why did I say snow? Oh. Because we're apparently trapped in the midst of the Snowpocalypse. Or, as I like to refer to it, Snowmageddon. There are about two feet on the ground at the moment here, and there's going to be ANOTHER massive storm tomorrow. We're supposed to get anywhere from 10-20 inches. AGAIN. Now if we end up getting snowed in until my birthday, which is next Friday, ahem ahem ahem, homies everywhere, I like meat and potatoes and money, I'm not going to complain at all. Because nothing is better than waking up in the morning feeling like P. Diddy on your birthday, and you can't really do that when your alarm is going off at 6:30 so you can drag yourself to another day of freshman year. Why I'm thinking "it's good to be a square" would be a good transitional phrase to use after such a paragraph eludes me. It's good to be a square. I'm in my basement now, it's 1 in the morning. Everything is so quiet and dark. I can't see anything past the computer screen, because the snow knocked out our power Friday night. We called Pepco, who said that they should be restoring power at 4 am. On Saturday. Well it's 1 am on Tuesday, and we still don't have power. Cockblockers. And I know, I shouldn't say that. There are like 16,000 Pepco customers in MoCo alone without power. So, one house isn't that big of a difference. But seriously. When I have to use a sleeping bag in my own house, and there are people sitting mere miles away in Washington DC in their brownstones with heat and hot cocoa and anti-gay agendas, I get a little pissed off. Not that... no. That just didn't make sense. Pardon me. Well at least now my basement looks like a spy movie. Think about it, people look at you funny; when you're in a small town 11:04 a.m. - Monday, Feb. 08, 2010 Lou Reed seems fitting for this morning, I have to say. I don't know why, but Bean's house constantly makes me think that it's Sunday morning. Even though my iPod alarm clock went off at 6:30 anyway. I don't know if it's the sun shining through her windows, or the sound of the WTOP news, or the thought of tasty breakfast soon to come. But it feels like a "morning after" type house. Maybe it's just me. An interesting comment was made on my blog last night by the host of said house. "So... your blog is just basically a rant, right?" I couldn't take offense because I was sleeping on her floor that night. But at the same time I don't know if I'd have the ability to. I mean looking through it, it really IS a rant. But it's interesting, sometimes at least. I don't know. I just like opening up into this little time-hole of a blog. And you all apparently like to read it, or you wouldn't have read this far already. HA! I'm noticing that Tak Pak is a very morning-after town. And by the standards of a good friend of mine, I'm an over-texter. Oh well. Also, elephant hats are fucking adorable. I don't really know why I'm commenting on Bean's actions now. You see I'm still at her house. On her computer. Hanging out. Also I wanted to apologise- wow this is late- for doing that thing where I don't post for a long time. Or, a long time in my mind. What happened was, I wasn't in a good mood on Thursday, and I nearly deleted all my old blog posts. This was because the jackass who's supposed to be doing webmail support has either ignored or not received my two emails- one which was sent on Thursday, another which was sent the same day that I did those three letters- concerning the post-cutting-off-thing. Which still pisses me off, which was why I was going to delete my old posts. I was two seconds away from getting a Xanga- there was actually an entry describing me going through all these free blog hosting sites- when I just decided to go through all my old entries, delete ones I didn't think were too near 'n dear, and archive EVERYTHING in this massive word document on my computer. (It's gonna be a bitch to email.) I also dicked around on the older.html page- you can see this by adding that onto the backslash after my regular link- hoonlives95.diaryland.com/- but that didn't do anything, either. So I'm seriously contemplating cutting off at the 100th entry, or on March 1st- the 1 year anniversary of hoonlives95- and getting a different blog. Because this is just getting ludicrous and not fun. Anyway. I gotta run now. But I promise, with a bunch of aeons and things floating around in me, that I'll definitely post something worthwhile tonight. This was worthwhile though. Or was it? Think about it, lights, camera, transaction 10:56 p.m. - Sunday, Feb. 07, 2010 The. Motherfucking. Saints. Won. The. Motherfucking. Superbowl. I'm. About. To. Blow. A. Motherfucking. Capillary. Except that's not funny, so I wouldn't say that. But I'm still kind of pissed off. Can you tell? I mean Indiana never wins at anything. I bet Letterman is pissed off. Oh, and has anyone noticed how much the commercials this yer BLEW?! I mean I kind of lost faith in the Budweiser ads after they made the Bud' pony into Rocky. And that was like three years ago. But seriously. Couldn't they have a couple decent commercials if the Colts were going to be slaughtered mercilessly? My friend is leaning on my shoulder. We're in the process of listening to Kimya Dawson, drawing platypi and planets, and calling our friends hilariously offensive names. These include but are not limited to: "analface," "scrotum-boy," "rectal-man," "crackle-dick," and the all-time classic "clitterdick." We don't quite know what any of those are- except for the blatantly obvious ones- except for crackle-dick, which we made up in a hysterically frantic fit. It's only teenage wasteland. I'll post something moderately worthwhile tomorrow. Not that this isn't moderately worthwhile. Partial credit goes to Bean, for discovering "crackle-dick," and whose thought pattern should be studied, if not bronzed & exhibited for the world to see. I love you Bean. Think about it, could i have been the one to pull you from the point of no returning? 8:57 p.m. - Tuesday, Feb. 02, 2010 It's not exactly normalcy for me to include a hard-hitting slice of my life in my blog, but there's a first time for everything. And maybe this time I won't stray off topic into a complete pit of narcissism. So here we go. On the night of Monday, February 1st, 2010, a senior at our high school committed suicide. Neither announcements they made at school nor the articles released about him displayed any reasons for it. Every one of my friends who knew him was at least affected, if not upset, over this. What I find sad is that I never got the chance to know him, and I'm not going to get to. This has happened before- in place of losing people that are close to me, I've lost people that I don't know, who I wish I could've- and it hurts every time. It's at times like this when people either turn to places that they find comfortable- their friends, family, loved ones, or forms of expressing themselves. Some people shut themselves out, or pretend that they don't hurt from it. A lot of them are thinking that if they hurt alone, they'll get over it faster. But they don't always understand that other people are hurting too, and the most effective way to overcome something like that is love and togetherness. That can be in someone's arms, that can be looking at a chat window where someone types "I love you," or in a voicemail message, or a text, or a flying banner over the Atlantic ocean. It's clinically proven to save lives. So can everyone just do me a solid and- taking a page from my teacher's book- keep the love flowin'? Because there's so much that can be avoided, solved, and said with those three little words. I Love You. am not just doing publicity for a friend: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CfrW4h3zyVE I love you. Think about it, pull me out alive. 9:55 p.m. - Monday, Feb. 01, 2010 OH MY GOD IT'S ALREADY FEBRUARY. New colours are up. Why are they these colours you might ask? I'm coming back in black for the background, and if the short description weren't already "pull me out alive," it'd be "back in black." The pink is for my mom, because February's my birthday month and I wouldn't be here without her. So, thanks. She picked it out herself. The weird blue-purple is because I was scrolling through the december codes (html colour codes, i.e. #FF0000) and I was in the purple section. And there was a shade called "nikko blue." As some of you know, Shannon Hoon's daughter is named Nico Blue Hoon. So it's the Blind Melon tribute of the month. (I know that Nico and Nikko aren't the same but bear with me.) We have a few new readers this week. Or this month, whichever is more appropriate. And for all you followers out there, new and old alike, let me just say: That groundhog better see the snow in the ground and go "Oh, winter's not over." Else it's not gonna be pretty. I mean I love groundhog day, because then I get to start counting down to my birthday (also know as my yearly spiral into dark, narcissistic paradise). But I don't know, I'm actually kind of put off about turning 15 for some reason. I mean I like being 14. But it's really not all that different from 15. The years between 13 and 16 are always kind of indifferent; if you don't do anything important in those years then you kind of forget about them. Then again, if you do too many things in those years, you don't remember them at all, I suppose. So maybe I've- for once!- found a happy medium. I like happy mediums. They're happy in the middle. If anyone reads this tonight, preferably right after I finish posting this, then please go see the moon. It's impeccable and fantastic and wonderful. All at once. Can you believe it? Here's to a different February. Think about it, ((P.S. The Tumblr layout is probably gonna stay the same for awhile.)) take off your coat, put a song in your throat, let the dead beats pound all around 11:30 p.m. - Saturday, Jan. 30, 2010 Another good song. Very quiet though. Except the very end, which I hate with a fiery passion. Because the first part of the song is nice and slow and quiet, and I usually try and fall asleep when I hear it. And then there's a period of silence for like two or three minutes. And THEN, Beck had to go and put his mind-screwing electronic shit in it for another 3 minutes, and if you're right on the verge of sleep when that hits your eardrums, you have a miniature heart attack and wake up again. I guess it's karma for the sign of sloth in the heart? ...I got that from a Harvest Moon game... I meant to post this morning, because it snowed a great deal again today. And I always post in the morning when it snows. But, another tradition is broken it seems. Not that I broke a different one today. Or recently for that matter. But still. I don't know why it feels so important to keep personal traditions going. Like watching Empire Records on Christmas, or saying "cheesewhack" whenever a yellow car goes by. Maybe it's the fact that we all need something to depend on in this world, and when it breaks, we have to find something else. Is this whole thing a constant search for dependence; a journey for home? Or are we designed to convince ourselves that outgrowing dependencies is healthy, that our independence is an easier, faster route? What is the route leading to? The snow is hopefully going to be here tomorrow. Questions remain. Colours will be changed soon. If anyone reads this, give me some input on colour changes. And whatever the hell else you want to see on hoonlives95. (The site. Not the author. Mind out of the gutter please.) As for the philosophy, or lack thereof, you all shouldn't worry. It's good to just sit here and wonder about what you're doing, remember what you did, and fantasize about the future. Or dread. Or what have you! It's your future. Me, I'm just looking for that wide open field. Think about it, and i'd give up forever to touch you, cause i know that you feel me somehow 12:02 a.m. - Saturday, Jan. 30, 2010 The Diaryland advertisements continue to amaze, day after day. I don't know why, but there's a... oh now I get it. A banner ad called "Bananner." Banana. Banner. Bananner. It's been a long day. Actually, it has. I was up at high school hour, which is apparently before the sun rises. But that means I get to see the sunrise, which is possibly my favourite part of the day. But I usually like to go back to sleep after watching the sun rise. You can't always get what you want, it seems. I think I'm the only one that remembers the Coca-Cola commercial with that song. It's inspirational. Did you know there was a Pepsi commercial in (I think) 2002 with Blind Melon's "No Rain" in the background? Then again that was kind of the megahit of 1992 and all. He's up there, somewhere, I just know it. More on the child suicide: I found this out today. The kid was EIGHT YEARS OLD. And not only did he find suicide the only viable option, he KNEW how to kill himself. An EIGHT YEAR OLD. I can kind of understand the teenage cutters and people hanging themselves. But seriously. Eight years old. It's heartbreaking. That one is heartbreaking. We were talking about suicide in class today, because we're reading- closer to murdering- Romeo & Juliet. Again. And it was this discussion question on whether suicide was an honorable death or not. I said how I thought that it wasn't honorable, because you're really only helping yourself. And you don't even know if you're helping yourself or not. A lot of suicide survivors- people who "did it wrong"- say that the worst part of this was that they immediately regretted trying to kill themselves. But it was always a fleeting thought, right before the end. And you're not helping anyone else, either. Think about how many kids he made cry, because they never got their second chance to be his friend. Think about the damage that did to his family; think about how his mother feels. Hell, if MY mother reacted like she did, how did the kid's mother feel? It's really a selfish thing to do. You're not helping anyone, and you don't know if you're helping yourself. Maybe this argument could save a life or two. This isn't a private blog, you know. Think about it, i've been sitting here for hours, damn i really have got to pee 9:45 p.m. - Thursday, Jan. 28, 2010 I thought I'd lost my oldest iPod just then. Wow. My short description would've been something along the lines of "HOLY SHIT MY IPOD JUST DIED FOR THE LAST TIME." But no. Thank God. It just hadn't been charged in forever. I'm trying to keep it alive as long as I can. This is the 2nd generation red one I got in 2007. And I love it to death. So, my iPod dying would've made me change my short description to that. And then I'd break my new year's resolution of having it always be some kind of song lyric. (Yes, this is a song lyric, believe it or not.) And it's adding to all the goodness of me procrastinating my history homework. It'll be fine. Fine, I tell you. Today I heard about something that really hit home. A girl killed herself because of cyber bullying. What made me more upset than anything is that not only does this shit kind of happen, it happens too often for our country to truly be stable. Kids are killing themselves over words sent over the fastest medium of communication we have. Taps on the keyboard, fingers typing, can come between someone's life. And you all wonder why I find the iPad fucking terrifying. Soon it's gonna be a poke. I don't know. Technology scares me sometimes. Just the speed at which we're advancing as a race, much less a species. Soon the people who remember the real stories of growing up, of playing cop's 'n robbers and comic strips, making forts and checkers, marbles and jump rope, are going to be- no, are already in the process of being replaced by video games, TV and Nerf guns. That is, whenever the kids decide to take their eyes off Call of Duty, get off the couch and visit the outside world. I mean I guess that's how the world works. But will we laugh and forget about our ancestors, without whom we couldn't have come this far? Or will we always remember them? Then again. This is the kid spending a good two hours on the computer a day. Hypocrisy is obvious and irrelevant to mention. I admit it. Which is why I'm so goddamn good at it. Let me also point out, on a completely different subject: The way you operate as a person doesn't have to influence the way someone else operates as a person. Today I was nearly convinced into guilt-tripping someone as a better method of getting what I want. The fact is that not only does it not work 90% of the time, because most people do have self-confidence, but that also I happen to hate being guilt-tripped. That tends to influence a lot of my decisions and actions. And I don't think it'd be particularly fair for me to do that to someone else. What is guilt-tripping, you might ask? It's not a Scottish hallucinogen, if that's what you were thinking. (Gilt... I don't know.) Guilt-tripping is the act of giving yourself the appearance of being in a position where you're unhappy or uncomfortable, so that other people see this and try to make you happier. This replaces the act of directly asking for things, which usually works out in the end, and can make someone feel pretty bad about themselves if they aren't able to supply happiness to the person who's guilt-tripping them. I know it well, I can smell that shit a mile away. Why? Because that's how my family operates. And nothing ever, EVER gets done, and we all end up unhappy. So, guilt-tripping isn't a good thing. So knock it off. Another note: J.D. Salinger died today. He was 91. I'm not sure why that's important but I thought I'd put it up. "Oh, shits and giggles." Also: "I'm an expert." -John Krasinski I don't know why it's so hysterical, but any time I hear him say it I start laughing. Uncontrollably. It's just too funny. If you haven't noticed on the Tumblr, I'm on Twitter. You can probably find it on the Tumblr. SEE? ISN'T IT GOD DAMN SCARY THAT I CAN USE WORDS LIKE "TUMBLR" AND "TWITTER" AND EVERYONE IMMEDIATELY KNOWS WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT?!? This is just too much for me to handle. Maybe I'll get over it someday. Even though the chances of that happening are slim to none. I'm still not over the Alzheimer's milkshake thing. But, I suppose time moves on. And hell, if I can plough through half of freshman year with my head down, not looking up, I figure I can go through plenty more. Think about it, and you hold my hand and you understand 10:36 p.m. - Tuesday, Jan. 26, 2010 You understand that life rolls on, and that there's no stopping it from doing so. And the same person who's sitting next to me watching the sunrise is gonna be the person watching the sunset. Which is exactly how it should be. At least, on my planet. No, I don't know where it is. But it has wide open spaces. So wide, in fact, that you can have two people standing at the opposite poles and still see each other amidst the ochre grass and wildflowers. And when they turn around fully, they'll see the same people. And the clouds will be fantastic. -shudder- Where am I? Oh, right. Hi. Today two metro workers were struck and killed. One of them was sixty-eight years old. Which not only means that he knew the tracks and the inner-workings of Metro, but that he could've been retired. I don't know anymore. I'm going to my planet now. Think about it, you're barely nineteen, you're a singing machine 6:13 p.m. - Monday, Jan. 25, 2010 Now that's a symbolic song. Makes perfect sense right now. And there are like two people who are gonna put that in google and go, "Oh, THAT song?" And they won't care. And that's about it. Am I surprised by that? No! That's how the world works today it seems. And tomorrow, and the day after that. It's just more apparent on some days than it is on others. Probably because the problems relate directly to me today, instead of just being a general idea on other days. The clouds were fantastic today. I just got off the phone with a reassurance, I suppose would be the appropriate term. "They can't all be ballads, Julian." Think about it, without 40 oz. of social skills, i'm just an ass in the crack of humanity 1:52 p.m. - Monday, Jan. 25, 2010 A huge manatee. Why am I surprised? Why is this such a big deal? Is it symbolic for something else? Or am I just fucking insane? It's not that surprising, really. But it's still slightly perturbing. Y'know? No, you probably don't want to know. Think about it, "and... and i don't know." 1:17 p.m. - Sunday, Jan. 24, 2010 Psh. Who ELSE would say that? http://www.questforbalance.com/2010/01/24/inspiration-from-kurt-vonnegut-life-beyond-computers/?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+questforbalance%2FwQlk+%28Quest+For+Balance%29 It made me think. Because I really do agree with what the author is saying. It makes a hell of a lot of sense, and scares the shit out of me to be perfectly honest. But what am I doing now? And what was the author doing, telling us about it? How was he contributing to this idea? I'm not degrading him. I mean I can't. It's making me think, regardless of how I heard about this. But at the same time, it's kind of a Stalinist move. Or communist. Or, whatever. Communism sounds like such a fucking good idea. I'm sorry, but seriously. All people are created equal. How does it get any better than that? See but then Russia had to go and screw that up 'cause Americans wanted in. Another note on Americans. We are such pussies. I have justification for this statement. A man was found in Haiti yesterday. Two weeks after the horrible earthquake, he was found underneath a massive pile of rubble. HE SURVIVED BY SIPPING A SODA. THROUGH A STRAW. FOR TWO FUCKING WEEKS. And I know people who can't function without coffee in the morning. Now, I'm not saying that I'm any better. If I don't get my Jerry's cheesesteak, it's usually a pretty dismal afternoon. But this is because it's available. And not only available, it's taken for granted. I want water, I can get up, go to my kitchen, open the fridge, and get clean motherfucking water. And drink it! And go back to my room. There are places where people have to walk MILES for water. And by miles I mean literal miles, not your seemingly endless hallway. We as Americas have the power to do something about it. We're helping a tremendous amount of people in Haiti. But what about the people dying every day in other parts of the world? The fact that we CAN fix it, and HAVEN'T, is one thing. I can kind of cope with that. But the fact that we CAN fix it, and we HAVEN'T, BUT WE CLAIM TO HAVE FIXED IT, is just god damn frustrating. And I'm not saying that I can do anything by posting this. This is just me ranting about what I think is the matter with the world. And I can't say much else, because I don't KNOW about much else. They're not teaching us about this in school. I just found out the name of the pro-abortion case TWO DAYS AGO, because in school we're too busy learning about the Great Depression. Which, you know, is important. But I learned all that shit from the American Girl books. What really bothers me is that they're not teaching us about it, because they don't want us to know about it. So that we think this government's injustice is simply the way things work. No, you can't have an abortion. No, you can't marry someone of the same sex. (Am not even going to delve into THAT wound. I'm already pissed off enough) No, you can't have an opinion at fourteen. And they're not teaching us about it because they want us to think that it's normalcy. They WANT it to be the way things work. "And... and I don't know." Think about it, but man, oh man, you can do what you want 11:11 a.m. - Saturday, Jan. 23, 2010 Not to condone sexism. But that song is fantastic. And it's a guy singing it to a girl, so fuck you. Also that's one of those songs that has a person and a place tied to it. So whenever you hear it, you remember that one moment with that person. And that moment happens to be pretty cool. So yeah. I think it's the saddest thing in the world that I didn't post anything yesterday. It was because I was pretending to have a life. On facebook. Which is kind of impossible. But I got so caught up with facebook that I forgot to post something last night. It wouldn't have been too interesting; nothing really happened yesterday. But tonight I'm sleeping over at a friend's house, and then Sunday I'm volunteering at one of those basketball game fundraiser things again. It's a UMD-Duke game, so we're gonna get a lot of business. I'm pretty cised. Yes. Cised. Circa 1996. Haha. The man in red's made his appearance again. All three guys reading this don't understand what I mean by that. That's alright. It's just not a particularly good week to piss me off. Or bring up the Yankees. Or the Cowboys. Or whoever it was that beat the Colts last week. (Was it the Saints? I forget.) And LEAST of all, Jonathan Papelbon. Yeah. Not a good week for the neanderthals of the sports world. I had a really interesting dream the night before last. I was in tak pak, and I was going to my friend's house. And I ended up in someone else's house, but before that, I saw some of my own stuff in their house. It was apparently a mom and her adolescent daughter living alone together. And in the daughter's room was my lamp, my afghan, and a big stack of Post-it notes. They had words and letters carved into them, and they were all the same. Like someone had taken an Exact-o knife and just carved the words. And they were all perfectly lined up as though they'd been typed. I flipped through all the Post-its and it looked exactly the same. Then the woman comes home and gets in an argument with her daughter, and I realise: it's NOT my friend's house. Then I wake up. I dunno. I just thought it was interesting. Try listening to Back Home Again in Indiana sometime. Performed by Straight No Chaser, of course. I have no idea what their name means, but I love that song. It's like finally climbing under the covers and feeling your body finally drift off to sleep. Like every part of you is just settling down, slowly. And you aren't bothered by anything, and it's nice and warm. And you don't have to worry anymore. Cheesy, I know. Think about it, am i the boxer or am i the bag? 9:53 p.m. - Thursday, Jan. 21, 2010 Hmmm hmmm, boxer or the bag, aww yeahhhh. I think everyone should do an Eddie Vedder impression every now and again. It's good for the soul. And it brings you back to where you are. Because no one has ANY idea what the fuck he's saying in that song. But it's so pretty. So I'm not really gonna question it at the moment. Mmkay? Moving on. Exams are FINALLY over. I'm so happy. And that sounds apathetic & bored because I'm not using exclamation points. But, it's almost 10 PM and I've gotten a collective of 3 hours of sleep this entire week. So why don't you just take a flying fuck at a rolling doughnut? Argh. I'm sorry. Something to think about: why am I apologising so much? I wonder. Is it because I'm really sorry for something, and feel legitimate guilt for something that I did? Or is it to patch up a connection that I don't want to be mangled? Or maybe it's just my natural way of doing things. I don't know. But I don't like apologising so much, because I've been brought up under people who do that constantly. And it doesn't solve any problems, it just makes everything look prettier in the end. I don't know. You tell me. Today feels like one of those jam-packed days. I don't know why, really. Whenever I spend a long time hanging out with people after class is out, I feel like it's jam-packed. Maybe that's because I'm having so much fun that I lose track of everything else. Because in the end I suppose none of it matters, not really anyway. Nothing will be the same. I wonder why Bjork is coming to me at a time like this? I wonder who actually knows that what I said was a Bjork quote. I wonder how to get an umlaut on an O on a Diaryland post. The world may never know. That's enough for one night. Are YOU the boxer? Or are you the bag? Think about it, it says "sometimes whispering's okay, but maybe you'd feel better if you screamed today" 10:26 p.m. - Wednesday, Jan. 20, 2010 Another good song. The slightest bit meaningful. Or not. I can't really tell anymore. Can you? Let's move on. I was sitting down for a good straight hour today, and my feet fell asleep for no reason. It might have had to do with the fact that it was freezing outside. But I had a, uh, personal space heater. So it didn't feel that cold. My feet don't usually fall asleep unless I'm sitting cross-legged for too long. And then its prickly & uncomfortable. But whatever. I have big feet. Have I told you? I wonder why I'm talking to my blog like it's a person again. Am I trying to find more communication? It's not like I couldn't talk to friends. I have friends, y'know. Just... not at 10:30 at night, the night before the last day of finals. Excuse me. YES! There we go. Emphatic exclamation of excitement finished. On with it. On with what? I have nothing to tell you. It was rainy today. Then it was sunny. No, I don't know why. There will be meatloaf and fucking peas. Think about it, meet me in outer space (better late than never) 4:43 p.m. - Tuesday, Jan. 19, 2010 ((So my justification for this is in the area of my ONE-TIME grammatical incorrectness. Today is not only 1 month before my birthday- more on that later- but it's also 1 week, 1 day after the last time I was supposed to post an "11th." Take out the words "week" and "day." What do you get? Our magic friend 11. But nowhere near as magic as three. Enjoy.)) The door shut behind him as he ran outside, into his backyard. Wind whipped his hair back as he squinted to see what was in front of him. The trees sang in the harsh gusts that came from somewhere he couldn't see. He noticed something descending before him, but he couldn't see. Floodlights pierced the innocent grass, bringing his forearm up to guard his face. His dog barked from behind the screen door, and kept going for quite awhile. The grass flattened as though a helicopter- or something bigger- were landing. And suddenly, there was nothing. He took his forearm down, away from his face. The lights, the wind, all were gone. The dark sky, dusted with stars on the warm July night, hung over them like a blanket. And from the sky, surrounded by a faint yellow light, was Eve. She lingered in the sky, slowly descending. The wind had subsided into a weak summer breeze, the trees quivering at her arrival. Pale feet met the grass, toes curling in the wetness. Her thin legs were planted firmly, but she look as though she could float away as easily as she'd landed. Amber-brown eyes shot at him from beneath her waves of golden curls. Her fingers played around the hem of her lightweight, bleach-white dress. He stood awkwardly on his own porch, running a hand through his own dark curls. There wasn't much he could say. His thought pattern was as scattered as the blades of grass beneath her feet. Maybe if he just waited for her to talk, then words might come to him. Yeah. That's what would happen. She just had to talk first. "Adam," she said. The words hung in the air, echoing off the insects' subconscious hum. Her facial expression didn't change in the slightest. But he knew that she meant something else. "Eve," he responded. He could play that game too. The slightest of smirks slipped across her face. She approached him. Her feet moved mechanically, as she wasn't completely used to the terrain. She'd been so far out of his world that she barely remembered what grass felt like. Adam became nervous. She had the power to kill him with as little as the blink of an eye. "Now, look, Eve. I... I want you to know that I'm sorry for what happened." She took another slow step towards him. A real smile played across her features. "And that it was wrong of me to do that to you." Another step. "No one should ever do that to you. You shouldn't have to stand for that, and I'm sorry that I made you." She was almost on his porchstep. She stopped, looked up at him. Smiled. Adam swallowed nervously. "And I want you to know that..." His voice wavered in disapproval of his following statement. "...that no matter how much you try to intimidate me, that I'm not afraid of you." This was the biggest lie he'd ever told anyone. Eve stepped up. She hadn't taken her eyes off Adam this entire time. They stood level to each other, as he became transfixed on each aspect of her perfect face. The slightest curve of her cheek, the smoothness of her pale skin, the slightest point of her nose. Her perfect eyes. They drowned him; he found himself swimming in a giant sea of amber. It hardened. He was trapped. Eve held her hand out. The smile still lingered, a sign that she knew something he didn't. "You're gonna want to take that," she said in a melodic voice that didn't belong to this world. She indicated her outstretched hand. Adam looked on it with a furrowed brow; not in distaste, but in thoughtfulness. He checked Eve's expression again. There were no tricks, just a smile. He looked at it once more. And, not knowing what would happen, but not caring too much either, he took it in his hand and held it tight. And then he spun her around, her weight meaningless on this earth. He took her up in his arms and kissed her like the world hadn't moved since the beginning of time, and as they met, the earth spun back into motion. "Look down," Eve whispered. Bare toes lingered up high, over the picture of the suburbs below. He let out a tiny, nervous laugh. His eyes widened subconsciously. They were drawing away. "Now look up," he said. ((Think about it, you can't start a fire without a spark 8:21 a.m. - Tuesday, Jan. 19, 2010 It's definitely a day to quote The Boss. Also that's blasting from the speakers behind me at a soothing two billion decibels, in the immortal words of Christopher Titus. This one's rushed. Why am I posting at 8:30 in the morning? Oh. Because I don't have an exam until 9:30 this morning. And I was going to go early to study what I know nothing about, and therefore be more prepared for the exam. I think I told you this. But that's now cut short because I am currently off to see the DENTIST. At eight thirty in the morning. After which my mother will bring me back to school, maybe in time for me to miss my science exam. Woo-hoo. Well I have to say that'd be pretty cool. But at the same time... Sigh. I'm gonna get there, and the teacher's gonna go, "Where's your textbook?" And I'm gonna go, "I had to rush to get here," and she's gonna go "That's a load of horseshit, I don't believe you, I'm charging you a financial obligation," to which I will reply "Hey Fuck You" in the words of Adam Yauch, flip her off and get the whole class running out with me in a fit of Kurt Vonnegut quotes. Think about it, i know it's clear; you want me dear, it would be easier if i was never here. 10:31 p.m. - Monday, Jan. 18, 2010 God damn that's such a good song. Hmm. I should count how many times I say that after I post my status, and then make a playlist of all the songs I'm referring to. Maybe. That'd be an interesting fun thing to do. On a rainy day, perhaps. So I don't know how many of you have checked out my Tumblr but it's worth taking a peek at. Just for funsies. Haha. Maybe? Alright. Why am I wired again? It's ten thirty at night on the day before my science exam. Which I'm not gonna do well on. Which means I'm gonna have to take another physical science in high school. Sigh. Oh well. As long as I take bio next year, I won't be too irked. And not to say that other things aren't irking me this evening. (I love that word.) But my grades do happen to be at the top of the list. Tonight, at least. Because before anything gets changed in the other category, things need to change in the grades category. Which means I've got to knuckle down and study my little ass off. Sigh. It really is a bullshit science class. Bullshit as in the-teacher-made-up-half-the-curriculum-on-her-own type bullshit. Bullshit. In a Russian accent: Bullshit! Because of course, exclamation points entail Russian accents. Maybe asterisks. *Bullshit.* With an exclamation point. *Bullshit!* Dammit, now I'm hooked on phonics. I love you more than A-Rod loves Jay-Z. WHOA I JUST NOTICED A NAME PALINDROME THINGY. THAT'S CRAZY. Yeah. I'll be going now. Think about it, what do you think they would say if i stood up & walked away? 11:20 p.m. - Saturday, Jan. 16, 2010 A day for a Shannon Hoon quote. The Colts beat the Ravens. Home beat home. And y'all wonder why I love Indiana. I wonder why the one thing that people remember about Marilyn Manson is the fact that he removed one of his ribs to give himself head. I also wonder why the one thing people remember about Michael Jackson is the fact that he went to court for allegedly raping little boys. Maybe we're focused on the repulsiveness of humanity, because we're used to it being pristine. Are we searching for some dirt to plague our boring, mundane flower petals of life? Or do we just think it's funny? Something to munch on. Another something to munch on: realisation. Sometimes you can do something, and go a good while without realising you've done it. And even then, it takes awhile for you to realise what your actions mean. Why is this? Are we so in tune with the present that we don't notice the past or future? I know this isn't true, because I dwell in the past and worry about the future too much for it not |