Sunday, February 15, 2009
Hop in Puddles
I am writing my essay, it's going along okay, could be much much worse. I am actually going crazy right about now, I think I am going to turn in. It's kind of deserved. I have written things.
Love Will Tare Us Apart Again
Joy Division is an exorbitant band, need I say more? Nay.
I write in an hour of quiet desperation; there is a sizable essay I need to write by Wednesday. Seeing as I will have no time between now and then: I must write it today, or tonight... or hm.
I am starting to think writing this essay will be harder than fighting windmills. 'Twill be just a romantic notion, no different than finding true love. What I was referring to as the "romantic notion" is writing this piece of desultory filth (the essay). I am probably not making much sense, care I not about making sense. This just a post so I can ease my whizzened mind and sooth my burning thoughts.
I cannot write an essay arguing who deserves the Holy Land. Palestinians or Israelis? Yeah, it's actually not too bad, yet it still seems like an immense topic, riddled with so many religious and moral implications and is such a highly disputatious topic. Even though I have my beliefs, it is still incredibly hard to justify what side I believe in. Maybe it's because I did such a poor job in gathering sources, or maybe I am over thinking this. Who knows, I know I do not. I just want to sleep for a thousand years, and awake in a different time. If I were to wake and everyone I love was gone, I don't think I would grieve much. And that very thought scares me. Maybe I just want that to happen, which is just as dire.
I cannot focus. I need to write this essay. I need something down. I have zero out of 7-10 pages written. It is at this time I worry. I need something, and I cannot think, my brain processing power is below my normal, so whatever essay I write will be worse than normal which is terrible.
I expect an F or lower on this essay. Oh well. Maybe now I will actually try writing it.
I write in an hour of quiet desperation; there is a sizable essay I need to write by Wednesday. Seeing as I will have no time between now and then: I must write it today, or tonight... or hm.
I am starting to think writing this essay will be harder than fighting windmills. 'Twill be just a romantic notion, no different than finding true love. What I was referring to as the "romantic notion" is writing this piece of desultory filth (the essay). I am probably not making much sense, care I not about making sense. This just a post so I can ease my whizzened mind and sooth my burning thoughts.
I cannot write an essay arguing who deserves the Holy Land. Palestinians or Israelis? Yeah, it's actually not too bad, yet it still seems like an immense topic, riddled with so many religious and moral implications and is such a highly disputatious topic. Even though I have my beliefs, it is still incredibly hard to justify what side I believe in. Maybe it's because I did such a poor job in gathering sources, or maybe I am over thinking this. Who knows, I know I do not. I just want to sleep for a thousand years, and awake in a different time. If I were to wake and everyone I love was gone, I don't think I would grieve much. And that very thought scares me. Maybe I just want that to happen, which is just as dire.
I cannot focus. I need to write this essay. I need something down. I have zero out of 7-10 pages written. It is at this time I worry. I need something, and I cannot think, my brain processing power is below my normal, so whatever essay I write will be worse than normal which is terrible.
I expect an F or lower on this essay. Oh well. Maybe now I will actually try writing it.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
Dear Anyone,
I am so very tired. I should stop writing these blogs and do homework, but I am so jaded I honestly do not care that much anymore.
I ask "What's the point?"
I am given the reply "College something blah blah blah."
Said reply does not appease my whizzened mind. (whizzened, much like buzzing or scattered, I have now just realized my definition does not make sense.)
Life keeps chugging along the railroad tracks of something or other. I am almost definitite that I am falling asleep as I write this, which will not help with the whole I have homework to do thing. At this moment please refer to the aforementioned jaded comment. Thank you.
I write not with a deft and whizzened hand, but with a befuddled mind and tired eyes. I am surprised at how unwrought this post is turning out to be.
Today in one word: odd.
Explination needed? Too bad, thou art one getting not. HA! SYNTAX MY ASS.
Today started off rather poorly, rushing out the door and barely making it on time to PE. In drama class I was given an extension on my monologue, which is a Godsend. In AP Language I was given another extension, refer to aforementioned Godsend. Thank you. In AP Language we were given the all but benign task of timed writing. We were then instructed to pass said piece to the left, where it would be graded by a peer. We all scored several esssays. I was called during the middle of class to do something about regestration for next year, which I am still not sure what that was for, so therefore I was unable to score the last essay.
When I was handed mine back it had the following scores: 7, 8, 8. Which is rather impressive considering I am not the best essayist. Maybe it was the fact that it was graded by peers, or it really was a strong little essay. Who knows.
It's easier to write things off as a fluke then to actually admit you did well by your own merit. Well at least for me anyways.
I am studying stem cells at current. Certain sciences are fascinating, such as biology and astronomy. All the other scieces can stick their jagged rocks and physics equations right up their rock formations and delta signs. <---- that did not work out as well as I had hoped.
I am presenting to the class a slideshow about stem cells. Hopefull there is enough information, and hopefully I know enough on the subject to at least BS my way through it and somehow scrape a B or an A.
Valentines Day is fast approaching, riding upon it's horse of love and awareness. Galavating about with those whom have true loved ones in which to share said "holiday"; the idea of that "holiday" bores into my thoughts, rather quickly, like a worm of some kind burrowing into the flesh of a human being. I hate being single and yet, if I were to become "taken" as they say, I would probably hate that too. I am too insecure, crazy, paranoid, busy and socially retarded to keep the relationship alive. At current, I pitty any girl who would want me as more than a friend. And that is not sefl-deprication, or self hatred, it's jsut the plain old truth, it's a rather blunt and lonely truth, but all the same: true.
If I say true one more time...
Hmm... checklist:
metaphysical speculations in post? possibly
exestintialism? not relavent
humourous antecdote? depends on sense of humour, but more or less Yes.
long string of unconnected rants? youbetcha'
The last line in post? is this one.
I ask "What's the point?"
I am given the reply "College something blah blah blah."
Said reply does not appease my whizzened mind. (whizzened, much like buzzing or scattered, I have now just realized my definition does not make sense.)
Life keeps chugging along the railroad tracks of something or other. I am almost definitite that I am falling asleep as I write this, which will not help with the whole I have homework to do thing. At this moment please refer to the aforementioned jaded comment. Thank you.
I write not with a deft and whizzened hand, but with a befuddled mind and tired eyes. I am surprised at how unwrought this post is turning out to be.
Today in one word: odd.
Explination needed? Too bad, thou art one getting not. HA! SYNTAX MY ASS.
Today started off rather poorly, rushing out the door and barely making it on time to PE. In drama class I was given an extension on my monologue, which is a Godsend. In AP Language I was given another extension, refer to aforementioned Godsend. Thank you. In AP Language we were given the all but benign task of timed writing. We were then instructed to pass said piece to the left, where it would be graded by a peer. We all scored several esssays. I was called during the middle of class to do something about regestration for next year, which I am still not sure what that was for, so therefore I was unable to score the last essay.
When I was handed mine back it had the following scores: 7, 8, 8. Which is rather impressive considering I am not the best essayist. Maybe it was the fact that it was graded by peers, or it really was a strong little essay. Who knows.
It's easier to write things off as a fluke then to actually admit you did well by your own merit. Well at least for me anyways.
I am studying stem cells at current. Certain sciences are fascinating, such as biology and astronomy. All the other scieces can stick their jagged rocks and physics equations right up their rock formations and delta signs. <---- that did not work out as well as I had hoped.
I am presenting to the class a slideshow about stem cells. Hopefull there is enough information, and hopefully I know enough on the subject to at least BS my way through it and somehow scrape a B or an A.
Valentines Day is fast approaching, riding upon it's horse of love and awareness. Galavating about with those whom have true loved ones in which to share said "holiday"; the idea of that "holiday" bores into my thoughts, rather quickly, like a worm of some kind burrowing into the flesh of a human being. I hate being single and yet, if I were to become "taken" as they say, I would probably hate that too. I am too insecure, crazy, paranoid, busy and socially retarded to keep the relationship alive. At current, I pitty any girl who would want me as more than a friend. And that is not sefl-deprication, or self hatred, it's jsut the plain old truth, it's a rather blunt and lonely truth, but all the same: true.
If I say true one more time...
Hmm... checklist:
metaphysical speculations in post? possibly
exestintialism? not relavent
humourous antecdote? depends on sense of humour, but more or less Yes.
long string of unconnected rants? youbetcha'
The last line in post? is this one.
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
In the Wee Small Hours of the Night
I was mulling over my previous posts, and realized a lot has changed in a rather sudden manner. Over the course of, five maybe even six months, I have lost and gained.
Emotions I once found troubling are now numbed and suppressed for another broodish day; feelings I once had are now gone, evanesced.
I now write to keep my sanity and make sure I don't have a complete emotional and physical collapse. I love this site and all it's splendiferous, wondrous charms.
I write now instead of finishing up homework, or memorizing lines or monologues; I write now because I truly feel like purging these tempestuous thoughts, no matter their size or significance, so I can rest easier or feel better, whether momentarily or not.
Okay I have to go now. I know right, lame, no major conclusions concluded nor anything mentioned and brought to a resolve.
Gute Nacht
Emotions I once found troubling are now numbed and suppressed for another broodish day; feelings I once had are now gone, evanesced.
I now write to keep my sanity and make sure I don't have a complete emotional and physical collapse. I love this site and all it's splendiferous, wondrous charms.
I write now instead of finishing up homework, or memorizing lines or monologues; I write now because I truly feel like purging these tempestuous thoughts, no matter their size or significance, so I can rest easier or feel better, whether momentarily or not.
Okay I have to go now. I know right, lame, no major conclusions concluded nor anything mentioned and brought to a resolve.
Gute Nacht
Monday, February 9, 2009
If There Are Noises
Things are piling up; hours are slowly passing, slipping into the nothingness that is the past. There are few things I find comfort in, such as music and friends I never talk to; writing letters, blog posts, and stories keep my facade from breaking, and spilling forth a torrent of emotions. This is all truth. I swear by it.
Just thinking about school brings forth painful pangs and distress. I don't know why this is so; that is where I truly wish I was lying. One should never want to lie. I am a firm believer in truth, whether is brings about the best results is up for debate.
I also firmly believe in "everything happens for a reason." Whether or not you acknowledge it, things you do will always affect your future; your past dictates your future. This reminds of a rather ingenious and veracious quote "he who controls the past controls the future, he who controls the future controls the past." That quote should be something similar in the text of 1984, by George Orwell. Arguably one of the greatest writers of all time, he is on a pantheon that few are placed upon. Well for me, there are very few authors but here they are: George Orwell, William Faulkner, J.D. Salinger, Jeffery Eugenides, John Steinbeck, and Kurt Vonnegut. All of the aforementioned are my favorite authors for several reasons. I extol them, and wish so badly to achieve they greatness they have earned.
But one step at a time is all I have to say to myself.
Taking AP Language has a reason, I do not know that reason as of yet, but soon I will. Only time will tell what I regret.
The days are getting longer, slowly but surely they are. I cannot accurately judge by the weather living where I live; it is too sporadic to judge from temperature and sunshine.
Spring is slowly enveloping the landscape. It's wrought with sweet scents and a feeling of renewal, with new growths and a closing school year.
Soon everything will be over. And I can act in movies, and dream without fear, and have time for things that I love to do.
This is one crazy post, it's a mix of ranting and monloguing...
These are my thoughts, and if you do not care for them, that's perfectly alright with me.
I just needed to clear my head. Find meaning in all the buzzing, find serenity in a rather hectic mind.
This could turn into a rather existentialist blog post, trying to find meaning in a rather meaningless world, or time I should say. It seems as though that is my generations zeitgeist, finding some sort of meaning in a rather hollow world. We are trying to try and reconnect with our roots, our past. Much like the Lost Generation, except minus Paris and Hemingway, please. The hour is of late, and I should study up on chromosomal packaging and trigonometric functions.
Just thinking about school brings forth painful pangs and distress. I don't know why this is so; that is where I truly wish I was lying. One should never want to lie. I am a firm believer in truth, whether is brings about the best results is up for debate.
I also firmly believe in "everything happens for a reason." Whether or not you acknowledge it, things you do will always affect your future; your past dictates your future. This reminds of a rather ingenious and veracious quote "he who controls the past controls the future, he who controls the future controls the past." That quote should be something similar in the text of 1984, by George Orwell. Arguably one of the greatest writers of all time, he is on a pantheon that few are placed upon. Well for me, there are very few authors but here they are: George Orwell, William Faulkner, J.D. Salinger, Jeffery Eugenides, John Steinbeck, and Kurt Vonnegut. All of the aforementioned are my favorite authors for several reasons. I extol them, and wish so badly to achieve they greatness they have earned.
But one step at a time is all I have to say to myself.
Taking AP Language has a reason, I do not know that reason as of yet, but soon I will. Only time will tell what I regret.
The days are getting longer, slowly but surely they are. I cannot accurately judge by the weather living where I live; it is too sporadic to judge from temperature and sunshine.
Spring is slowly enveloping the landscape. It's wrought with sweet scents and a feeling of renewal, with new growths and a closing school year.
Soon everything will be over. And I can act in movies, and dream without fear, and have time for things that I love to do.
This is one crazy post, it's a mix of ranting and monloguing...
These are my thoughts, and if you do not care for them, that's perfectly alright with me.
I just needed to clear my head. Find meaning in all the buzzing, find serenity in a rather hectic mind.
This could turn into a rather existentialist blog post, trying to find meaning in a rather meaningless world, or time I should say. It seems as though that is my generations zeitgeist, finding some sort of meaning in a rather hollow world. We are trying to try and reconnect with our roots, our past. Much like the Lost Generation, except minus Paris and Hemingway, please. The hour is of late, and I should study up on chromosomal packaging and trigonometric functions.
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