Ianuariis

Firstly I love Latin... until i start anatomy and get sick of it.. but yeah, everything for me has been Latin these days. Like my last poem: Aevum: Time, Eternity, Age, Generation, Lifetime.... Anyways I also find it funny that the latin for New Year is apparently Ianuariis.. as in January. That's it, not the word for new and the word for year. It's the word for the first month. So I start this post by wishing you all a Happy January.

Now I make it no secret that my grasp of the whole concept of Time is elementary at best. The passage of time for me is something I apparently have simply lost appreciation for, which is horrible for my time management skills among other things. But it affects me immensely in my appreciation of time based celebrations. Birthdays, New Years, and (God forbid in the future) Anniversaries don't particularly click with me. I've been 18 for a little over 2 months now (whoo?) and like every other birthday I felt no inherently different on October 25 than i did on October 23, so the significance of the age doesn't get to me. 

I'm legally an adult. Am I an adult??? haha... Fuck no... I'm just a petit-alcoholic, with a poor excuse for a beard (level 2 chin hair as I call it), childish indecisiveness, (what I believe are) large thoughts, potential and fear. SO. MUCH. FEAR. And my hatred of being controlled by emotions definitely doesn't excuse fear. But as this point I can't really escape it as much as I have to face it. Head On. With nothing but Dreams and a Toothbrush. And I think my realization of that fact may make me more of an adult than I think I am... well... if I act on that realization.

But my problem with time is it's perception. There are too many variables to account for. How does ANYONE have a good sense of time??? I mean simply, by aging our perception of time speeds up. To a 2 year old child One Year is one HELL of a long time, HALF OF HIS/HER LIFE... but to an 80 year old, what is a year? Our perception of time depends partially on the amount of time we have perceived. 

And So another 1/18 of my life has passed... 

And 2013 was probably the epitome of bittersweet. Lower 6th Form was one of the better/alright years of my high school life. Summer 2013 was the BEST summer of my life. Period. and the 1st term of Upper 6th Form was Horrendously Awful.

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to heaven, we were all going direct the other way - in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only.

Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities(1859)

(Wonderful quote that, hmm 1859...)

So many themes have come into play this year I don't remember them all; so many mistakes that I'll probably end up repeating some of them; so many good times, bad times, times in between I only know other years will just be a year of neutrality... 

So On to 2014

I guess we all need to change some things. You know, never came outta 2013 no fool... But people have to stop this whole "New Year's Resolution" thing... because in my opinion it just leads to disappointment. Set attainable, specific goals and plan to achieve them. Don't make a long list of achievements you want to accomplish, make a few, decide how to accomplish them and stick to the plan. What's even better? You can do that all year round, or you should.... haha, I should. So my goals this year are as follows in no particular order (and if you know me and see me and read this antagonize me about these bitches so I step my game up):

• Spirituality: Stop trying to understand God and start getting to know Him, do all that stuff I know I should do but keep overlooking or ignoring....  

• Work on Time Management: dedicate more time to my educational requirements; manage leisure better; DEVELOP BETTER SLEEPING HABITS(I say as I write this at 1:54 am)...

• Work on Leadership Skills: Delegation, Delegation and bumbaat Delegation; at least try to be a better role model as Deputy Head Boy, Find a way to deal with Drama Club; Delegation.

• Take Care of Myself: DEVELOP BETTER SLEEPING HABITS; Eat more regularly and healthier; Find some form of exercise... 

• UNIVERSITY:  sigh... never wanted to mention this directly but it must happen at all costs (and financially the least).

• Relationships: Preserve and strengthen the ones I have; be wise in the ones I enter; spend more time with people in general (I know I want to...); Learn the Art of Conversation, at least somewhat.

Don't know if I followed my own guidelines but these are things I must achieve.. not just this year but as Time continues. I hope we all continue on this whole Journey of Self Improvement as we go into this year. 
Wishing you all the best for 2014 and beyond; Me. 

Reading.

My posts and writing have been horrendously infrequent. Not that I haven't tried. Drafts and I don't really work if I can't do it the first time then it won't get done: and I've started about 3 or 4 posts since the last one... no dice. And poetry? Last poem I wrote was called "Dear Reader" or something to that effect. Written in Carib class, rife with profanity and stolen by a certain kohai (underclassman if you're not japanese honorific- savvy) if i get it back I'll post it.

I would love to write a post about this year improving... About how things started getting better, a story about how I truly realized and started bonding with a newer group of "true friends" and stopped being so fucking down an lonely and meh all the time. Or about getting some much needed ambition and getting my act together in this final push through secondary education and unto the tertio. Something.. Unfortunately I have no such stories and I'm pretty much how I've been since September; except I've rediscovered reading.  

Like all small children I read a lot, and since my interests as a child spread in a tonne of directions I owe even some of my current knowledge to my reading of old. But like most teenage boys somewhere I kinda just stopped. Can't say why, but it happened. But there was always a thing with me and reading and that was that I devoured literature. DEVOURED IT. I started and I finished with little between them. Devoured and moved on. When I started to read manga I adopted the same attitude (though I've lost a bit of my manga fanaticism... which worries me because these stories haven't finished yet....) But some time this month I decided to read a novel. And for that I blame Youtube and specifically, vlogbrothers. 

John Green. 

It started one Sunday with Looking For Alaska and by the next Sunday I had already finished The Fault in Our Stars, Will Grayson, Will Grayson and Paper Towns.... One Week. Four Novels Devoured. I probably stopped because of exams... and after watching another vlogbrothers video, with John Green giving book recommendations, on Friday I started The Magicians by Lev Grossman.... and today, Sunday, I finished the second book of that series, and I'll probably be nagged, by my own brain, into procuring and devouring the third and final of installment of the series, before doing the same for An Abundance of Katherines the John Green novel I haven't read yet. And surely it won't stop there....

Books are alluring, like small, temporary and portable soul capturing devices. They don't let you go. It's like An Imperial Affliction a fictional book in The Fault in Our Stars. It basically never ended and it captured souls right, left and centre... never giving them back. I fear, respect and appreciate books. Holding their author's essence, yet in a way being completely independent of them. Instigating thought, taking hold of emotions, and basically doing whatever the fuck they want. And I kind of hate them for that and love them for that. 

Funnily enough, and maybe for that very reason, I somehow became a writer (not sure how good I am though). I would love to inscribe on some good old ink and paper (or atleast some good old word files or an epub) something as powerful as the books I've read... and that is a daunting task. I actually (embarrassingly enough) started a novel, based on a short story I'd written... and it's been untouched since early this year (after my late computer died). I hope to complete it one day, and God I hope it doesn't suck. 

Books, narratives, reading, even literacy itself are simply amazing things... and I one day want to create something amazing. I want to write something that will instill in, someone sometime in time to come, some awe. Or at least make an enjoyable day's reading for some kid who goes through books like I go through a bag of crackers... who Devours them.

Sincerely

-Me

In Sickness and...

I swear I haven't written anything in FOREVER. Anyways since my last blog post I've been given the illustrious position of 2nd Deputy Headboy (I came 3rd out of 3 candidates...) I've realised that I'm not as liked as I thought I was, I've been spending most of my time in the Drama Room, and I've been sick. Twice, and still on the second run. I've done some art. 

I've been sick and I've been gaming and I've realized I'm no good at either. I'm discovering reddit and as usual NOT STUDYING, even though I've missed a few days of school and all my midterms are next week. I've been at home for an entire week and even though I'm not happy about it it isn't as bad as it usually is, and i'm not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing.

So OBVIOUSLY something is wrong with my life. I mean being sick was an important part of my childhood. I was ALWAYS sick, and funnily enough I had a pediatrician who didn't like giving children medicine... But yeah, every fever was 104+ and closed throat tonsillitis. Wasn't fun at all. Between infections, flus, allergies and slight lactose intolerance one could say I had a pretty sad life cut out for me BUT it all changed when i had a Tonsillectomy. Removing the tonsils basically solved almost all my immune problems and I lived a pretty healthy life since then, getting sick maybe once a year. Maybe Once A Year. For more than a decade I've been sick maybe once a year, twice on a bad year. So obviously something is wrong with my life.

I've been sick TWICE THIS MONTH.

So I'm really concerned now. What could have caused such a dip in immunity? I don't know. People are telling me I need rest, and I know I live that low sleep intensity life, but it's not new. I've been doing it for years without health problems ensuing, except probably the sleep disorder I may or may not have. So I don't think rest is the only issue here.

Part of the problem I think is school. I don't enjoy it anymore. I mean I never enjoyed schoolwork but school was always a getaway of sorts for me, with people and jokes and likkle vybe and a bit of my-style-positivity. I haven't gotten any of that since the school year started and so I guess my sleep deprivation is now allowed to cause immune collapse. School is just stress now and home is still ugh... I have no balance. The fact that I actually consider staying home as okay because I'm sick is a huge indicator of how bad things are.

The worst part of this sickness though?  The random bouts of profuse sweating, as in waking-up-with-wet-sheets-and-hair sweating. (It would have been the cough but when I cough my upper abs hurt, which insinuates that I actually have upper abs, which makes me kinda happy.)

However, I'm worried how much worse this school year can get.

Very Worried.

-Me

Change.

It's been a while since I've posted, not that I'm getting angry messages demanding new posts or anything, but people seem to appreciate my thoughts... I don't know why though. Anyways, it's been almost a week as an Upper Sixer and I can say for sure that I pretty much hate it. Well, I'll always love the people I'm surrounded by, but something about how this school year has started really hasn't made a good impression on me. Anyways, I'll get into that. Unto the topic at hand; Change.

I've prided myself with being an adaptable person. my surroundings don't usually affect me; I tend to be able to function under almost all situations I come across. I rarely ever become overwhelmed by change. However too much has changed since I've started school for me to be comfortable. Now I've been at the same school for 7 years. Seven Years. For some things I guess I just wasn't prepared for a change, which made my transition into this year somewhat troubling, since they've changed EVERYTHING.

The Timetable system, the Club system, the Food... I mean even one of my best friends is gone (because of administrative fuckery, the one thing which remains constant). I mean the Timetable system, I can deal with. Not that I appreciate having 4 hours of classes before I can medz some food. The Food? Well after four hours I would appreciate some food on the campus, though finding food has proven pretty difficult since they "rebidded" the stalls... But the Club System; that has me at Steam point.

I love my Club. Drama Club has played a tremendous role in my development as a person. I really can't say it much more. I Love Drama Club. Being it's president has probably been one of those sentimentally driven things in my life, I just can't sit and watch it die. Drama Club was the sanctuary. A sanctuary for all the members really. A place you could come on the Friday afternoon and just not care about the world. You could make a fool of yourself, laugh, relax and just clear the week out of your psyche. All clubs on Wednesday morning from 8:00 -9:00... It would have been better if they had personally sodomised me instead of doing it to my club and all it's members. A sanctuary on Wednesday morning? I don't even know how to approach that.

Now I was talking to my mother (yeah, that must be an achievement of some kind), and she said something tot he tune of "Change is something that's always hard to accept, if you can't do anything to stop it you have to learn to look at the change positively." Now it isn't bad advice. However, it's still not universal advice. Positivity is pretty powerful in many cases but in this case, especially with the club issue, I'm not seeing any rainbows. And I doubt that will change any time soon.

I won't even begin to talk about my friend's situation. I mean I've been pissed about that for the past 2 weeks (well it cooled down a bit but was rekindled tonight). I really won't get into it. All I can say is: I curse a bit much when I'm pissed.

In a Contemplative Manner
-Me

Life and Death.

Yesterday was a day of Life and Death.

I've been in a pretty sombre mood since yesterday.  But I must say that the day was important; probably important in more ways than I now realise.  I'm completely positive that It will at least always be in my memory. August 17, 2013 was a day of Life and Death... Not that I'm going to remember the date....

It was a Day of Death.. It was my cousin's funeral.   

I can say pretty confidently, now, that his death was a mystery. I had heard some mention of smoking and the sort but I found out there was none. 25 year olds don't suddenly develop severe heart conditions. Now even though I had spent a fair amount of time with him as a child I barely have any memories of him so hearing his past schoolmates, university batch mates and even co-workers talk about him made me realise that in all honesty we were a lot alike. At least many things said about him are things I would want to have said about me. He was a joker, a man who loved to make people laugh, a confidant, a friend, an achiever (probably over achiever), a hard worker, a man who cared abut his friends, family, loved ones; he was father (even if only for 8 months) and he loved his son and his son's mother dearly, he touched the lives of all he was around, he was dedicated, he was willing to sacrifice his time and his resources for the good of others... and it went on. Of course people only highlight the good at funerals, but it was obvious from these and other accounts (from family members closer to him than I) that they were at least telling the truth about the good. If any of these things could be said at my funeral, or just said about me, then I'd feel accomplished as a human being.

I can also say that never before in my 17-going-on-18 years of life has my entire family (mother's side) been represented in one place (only one of my uncles was absent, and he sent his wife in his place). In a way it was a good thing... but in many more ways it was bad. Very Bad. Like all families mine has it's share of familial bullshit, but it's nor a fair share... It's WAY too much to be fair. There are families in need of bullshit and we could very well be suppliers. I won't talk about it in detail here, that's not my personal business and thus I'm not at liberty to disclose it; not to mention the amount of people involved (my grandparents had 10 children... 9 of which have their own families). However I can tell you this much. The death of one of our younger members did almost nothing to harbour any sense of unity among us. If anything it made some gaps wider. Even in death the bullshit still smelled as strong as ever, if not stronger.

The pastor at the funeral preached a "timely word". "Timely" is an oft used word concerning preaching but this message was DEFINATELY given at a suitable time. He preached from Psalms 103.

Like as a father pitieth his children, so the Lord pitieth them that fear him. For he knoweth our frame; he remembereth that we are dust.

Psalms 103:13-14

We Are Dust. Humans are Frail. Life is Uncertain. Live Healthily. Live Humbly. Don't Live a Wasted Life. Don't Take Others for Granted. Yeah. Quite Timely.





The burial was pretty miserable. My aunt aid something in the bus. "The only t'ing we Crawfords do quiet  is bawl"... and she's right. Well, at least about the quiet crying. There was a lot of crying. His girlfriend took it really hard, and for good reason. She is left now with a son that's the splitting image of his father but will never really know him. I don't know what plans they had but I know that Ramon loved both of them dearly, and it was reciprocated. She bawled, honest, pure-hearted bawling. Some of us as family cried, but in our way of doing so, we cried silently. I had decided that I had no right to cry, and I didn't, but I was definitely as silent as a crying Crawford as I stood there. Stood there while  they lowered his casket into the grave. Stood there as they placed the concrete slabs over it. Stood there as the cemented the slabs together. Stood there as the covered the grave in dirt. I sang not one word, and I could see the general consensus by us as the family (though my father, not being a Crawford was somewhat exempt).

Saturday (not yesterday anymore) was a day of Death.

it left many questions. "Why?" is generally the first one and for good reason. We often hear the cliché statement "Everything happens for a reason". When it comes to death it's a difficult pill to swallow. Always. However, I do believe that everything happens for a reason. And while it is not in my capacity to know the reasons for everything I can say I witnessed one of the reasons for the necessity of my cousin's funeral.

We went to the funeral in a bus (not all of us but a good amount of us) and whilst coming back to Mandeville we meet upon the scene of an accident. A MASSIVE accident too. Both cars were totalled, and all the passengers were elderly people. It was bad. As we passed however re realised there was no urgent effort to help these people out and soon 3 of my aunts, father, 3 of my cousins, a family friend and myself had become the leaders of this rescue operation.

From the layout of the scene my father pieced together a theory as to what happened. he believed that a car going down the hill caught a spin (rain had just fallen) the car coming up the hill the rammed into the side, catching a spin itself, and then stopping with the rear end to the rear end of the first car.
I won't detail the entire ordeal, however I'll talk about two things.

1. The injuries involved.  The lady at the point of impact had her foot pinned under the door. Her foot was broken in several places and her hip was broken. There was a man who had a cut on his foot straight through to bone. There was a woman who was cut by the seatbelt right under the throat. Another was thrown from the back of the second car tot he front, being saved only by the airbags. Another woman apparently suffered internal damage from the seatbelt and the airbags.

All of these people and like 3 more were gotten to the hospital, mainly due to our effort as a family.

2. The people around us. Only a few of the were of any help,  even though the crowd only got larger. We had to be traffic controllers, lucky thing one of my nurses is a poem, one of my aunts carried the woman who had the pinned by the door, to the hospital. But the people were so... absent. They watched, we needed help carrying anyone... none, too many I recount for me. People were cursing us for blocking the road. My cousin had to intervene and cut two "claat" to get them compliant. It was Awful.

My family is capable of many things. And people are selfish fucks.

But through us. Saturday was a Day of Life. Lives we saved.
even though two of those ladies died Sunday morning.

It was a Long, Full Day. But it ended just as all of us one day will. We are literally like a day. Here today, gone tomorrow.

-Me

The Mountaintop and The Cliff :Another Long Post

Before I start I just want to say, You Have Been Warned.

So as a Christian I have what are called "Mountain Top Experiences" which are like peaks of spiritual enlightenment or closeness with God etc. They are really good and camp has always been one of them. The whole environment of camp is so spiritual sometimes you really don't want to leave, you'd want to live in the place forever... where being a Christian is easy, and there are pretty girls, and no homesickness (in my case homesickness means more like being sick of home than a longing to return there.) But unfortunately one can't. with every mountain top there is a valley that needs to be returned to.

While I'm on the topic though I'll talk about camp...

My denomination (ugh.. hate the term) owns a campsite and holds 5 camps there every year. This year, for the fourth consecutive year, I've gone to Camp 4, which caters to the 15-17 year group (I'm 17-going-on-18). But basically I was among the oldest persons on camp, and one of the more "experienced" Christians as well. As a "senior camper" I was treated more like a counsellor than a camper too, though more on the responsibility side, not much privilege, but this was pretty convenient since the counsellor for my dorm didn't come back to camp.

Now the 1st question I asked my dorm mates on the Saturday night was "Why did you come to camp?" and when it reached my turn to answer I answered, "Well, firstly it's a spiritual experience and I seek after spiritual experiences, Secondly I love to be surrounded by people (I probably thought "mostly female people" as I said this), and finally I hate my yard. " or something to that respect. So I'll address those three aspects because they are the most important to me.

Spiritual Experience: the camps are set up quite spiritually. You're generally secluded from the outside world and it's distractions, daily chapel, dorm devotions, other sessions etc. obviously show that the aim of the camp is in fact the spiritual growth of the campers. While these helped though, my two greatest spiritual experiences were not contained in any of these.

The first one happened on  the Tuesday. After 3 days of miserably unbearable heat rain fell (that's enough of a blessing to be a spiritual experience though). But some special things happened. The first reaction of us male campers was to "run up an dung like eedyat" in the rain. We played with a Frisbee, we just shouted and really enjoyed ourselves. Now normally the counsellors wouldn't have allowed this to happen because of health concerns, but next thing you know they were encouraging us and soon enough, and I kid you not, about 80% of the make dorm was outside bathing. Now why was this a spiritual experience? Because, my dear reader, from that moment on there was a unity and oneness amongst us male campers that was nothing short of miraculous. There was no Dorm 1, Dorm 2,Dorm 3, Dorm 4 or Dorm 5, just the male dorm.

"Truly, O God of Israel, our Savior, you work in mysterious ways."

Isaiah 45:15 (New Living Translation)

 

The second one however wasn't as heart-warming. It happened on the Thursday after the banquet (we, unfortunately were assigned dates, I was lucky though, I drew "Rita"... she is probably one of the most awesome people I know. I couldn't quarrel... anyways). I had been a bit disappointed that I didn't get some recognition for my awesomeness at camp (found out later that they decided to give someone else a chance to be Camp King... long story... bleh) so I was walking in the moonlight a bit and ended up going into the dorms last.  I entered the dorms in confusion. For some reason my dorm mate, a really chill guy, someone I'd run jokes with and one of the few males I talked to on camp, was completely furious being held back by about 5 other guys. Apparently, and this sounds completely ludicrous, someone had burst his balloon. Upon hearing this I knew something else was up. This wasn't the type of guy to be so easily ticked off, and really and truly this was the result of some spiritual warfare. The counsellors eventually quieted down the dorm. and a few people spoke, including me. Now Why was this a spiritual experience? Because, my dear reader, it showed me that anything God institutes is being attacked by the Adversary. Something wanted the unity we had established only two days before to be destroyed.

"Be sober, be vigilant; because your adversary the devil, as a roaring lion, walketh about, seeking whom he may devour."

1 Peter 5:8 (King James Version)

 

We also had a really good speaker during the Chapel sessions (I never slept once), so those were my biggest spiritual occurrences for the week.

 

Social Interaction: camp gathers people from all around Jamaica, different backgrounds, different personalities, different ways of pronouncing "d'even". Of course there is the male:female ratio to be established, and since it was about 26:42 (not quite 1:2) I was pretty much comfortable. I spent most of my time with two friends I made from my first year at Camp 4, one of which was my reason for coming to Camp 4 and not graduating to Camp 5 and the other I've talked about previously, and another friend I'd met last year, whose voice is near as close to my heart as crackers. They are nothing but good times and I almost made the mistake of ignoring the other awesome femmes on camp. Luckily some awesomeness cannot be hidden, and soon enough I was all over the place. I met some wonderful people, and got probably hundreds of chances to make girls laugh/smile (which I discovered is the reason I love their company so much). 

 

I didn't neglect the "bredren dem" though. I couldn't, really. I made fewer male friends but I somehow managed to gain the respect of most of the dorm (between my Christian integrity *koff* and the fact that I was one of the few who was constantly surrounded by girls...) So I got along pretty well with all of them. We ran jokes, talked about the girls on camp (hehe, because there were some GIRLS on camp though) and general foolishness. And especially after the rain thing there was a brotherhood among us that was just natural.

 

Being Away From Home: A solid week away from home is ALWAYS a blessing, and probably a spiritual experience in and of itself.  

 

 

However, as much as I enjoyed by eight days of camp, they eventually ended, and I had to come home. I was tired as hell, but I delayed my return as much as possible, and maybe a bit more than that.

 

Now normally the glow of positive energy from camp lasts some time, like coming down from a mountain. Especially since I was absolutely elated about the results from my externals, AND I was coming home to an empty house. But there was no gradual decline. Simply speaking, there was no moderate decline of a slope, I fell off a cliff.

 

There was no greater zeal for reading my bible or praying or changing things in my life that there usually was. Neither was there the general feeling of Joy. The first thing that struck me at home was Loneliness. Not because my family was away, but just moving from being surrounded by 67 other people to 0... killed my vybe. So I went to bed. My Anti-Lust Protocol was simply overridden, as I found out when I woke up. I swear that the 45+ mins of "fondly remembering" some of my dear female campers that I woke up to was pretty intense. And this wasn't helped by the fact that I wasn't going to church today either. By nightfall my cursing had started back up again. And by time my parents had retired, I partook of strong drink.

 

I guess I had this coming. This Christianity thing is no cakewalk. And the further one traverses into it, the greater steps he/she has to take. All I can say now is "Please, Lord Forgive Me" and then face another day knowing He's still by my side. Regardless. 

 

-Me

Memento Mori.

I've always liked Memento Mori as a Latin phrase, which is probably understandable as it's the only one I know, except my school motto: "Sic Luceat Lux". But I first met "Memento Mori" in a book. A Series of Unfortunate Events: The Austere Academy, where this very phrase was the school motto of Prufrock Preparatory School. And as Violet asks Klaus "What does it mean", he replies, remembering it from a book on Latin phrases he'd read, "Remember, You Will Die."

One of my favourite movies is "Watchmen" which is based on a graphic novel of the same name. It starts with the murder of a character we will find out is essential to the understanding of the world in which the movie is set. As he fights a losing battle, to "Unforgettable" as background music, his last words are "It's all a Joke", before his assailant throws him through the window of his condo... The event is scribed into Rorschach's Journal, after a short rant on the filth of human nature: "Tonight, a Comedian died in New York."

Memento Mori. "Remember, You Will Die."

Well today my cousin died.

Now I won't lie about it. That isn't the reason my mood has taken a turn for the worse... because when I came home and my mother casually says to me "Oh, You remember Ramon was in the hospital.. well.. He's gone," as she went up the stairs; I wasn't even stirred. He wasn't a particularly close cousin, I have no real memories with him, so yeah. I don't know if that makes me a cold bastard, but it's the truth. However, I guess it really did hit me later. My mood nosedived when I actually got the chance to sit down, and relax...

I was having all kinds of light hearted conversation too. Then it Hit Me.

 

Yup... 10:38 pm. It hit me. Well, THEY hit me.. Two things in particular:

 

1. I was guilty. I'm not supposed to be so alright after this. I should feel loss or something. Isn't that the human response to these situations. Loss, Remorse... and I felt even worse was that I was trying to justify my lack of reaction. "He died because of his own decisions", "You weren't all that close".. thoughts like those entered my mind pretty quickly, and as usual they didn't help, at all.

 

2. Death is all too close to everybody. It's just there, lurking... ready to break down our doors, and have us fight in vain, hoping that at least we'll be Unforgettable to at least one person. Praying that "It's all a Joke...". Hoping that we'll have a smile on our face, before we hit the pavement.

 

And with the Memento Mori there comes a certain fear. Before I go on, I don't think I'm afraid of death as much as the method... but as I was talking to some friends of mine it dawned on me; the reason I was afraid. I don't know how I would react if something happened to my friends.

I've lost a friend before... except we weren't all that close.. as in.. we'd just started talking. Then her life was stolen from her. And on that day... I WAS PISSED (to say the least) but I wasn't giving full vent to my anger... But Anger is a strange thing. I inadvertently punched a metal tank at school. It echoed. I almost broke 3 knuckles... But most surprising were comments of people after I had calmed down... apparently, I, the cool, funny guy, was scary. I guess it could be summed up simply.

As I said... if anything was to happen to any of my friends right now.... I have no idea what would happen. Though I have two theories. I'd either explode and end up killing something, or I'd shut down indefinitely. And from my perspective they are equally frightening outcomes. But the fact remains.

 

I'm Scared.

So... Scared.

 

I'm scared because as much as I claim to care about them some of them care about me more.

I'm scared because even the ones who aren't "good people" are some of the best I've ever met.

I'm scared because as much as I think they need me, I DEFINATELY need them more.

I'm scared because I haven't even confronted my problem with my parents yet.

I'm scared because of all he laughs, the memories, the shit, the good times, the bad times, the idling.

I'm scared because it's.. "you guys" and you all are irreplaceable (As if I would even try.)

 

Even though It's obvious we'll all die eventually...

But for My sake.. please.. just.. don't.

 

 

RIP Ramon.

-Me 

A Letter I Signed.

As usual, I didn't think my next post would be about this... Actually, I had thought this would've ended up as a Poem (*koff* poetry blog here *koff*). I honestly thought that my next blog post would've been about the amazing summer days I've had.. or the reminiscing I've done recently.. or something like that. But no. Apparently I'm not the boss here at impulseprose; I'm merely the medium or whatever. But Alas, Things happen.

In a way this is all about a friend I had kind of forgotten. I know this seems to contradict my beliefs on friendship but let me explain a bit. I didn't really forget her... She migrated and I just lost touch. I'm not sure how, but I did. It's not a proper excuse, but it's all I have. She didn't mind though (just saying). Now normally I would post screenshots of conversations I refer to in this blog. But I never got the chance to get her permission and there are some stuff I wouldn't be at liberty to freely disclose... so I apologise for neglecting my usual modus operandi.

She was apart of a group of 1st formers I befriended when I was in 4th form. Now I don't particularly enjoy "Little People" (as I would come to call them as I entered upper school), but there are a few who stand out... and I LOVE people who stand out. It was because of Drama Club really, but yeah. We shared a lot of moments, all of us, my friends and hers. Bake Sales, Productions, Fall Outs, Foolishness of all kinds. We went through two Drama Club Presidents: One Stellar, the other just No. We all, including her, were the club's future (as I'm now president and all). But she migrated at the end of (my) 5th form year.

Of the "Little People" I considered her my favourite.

I won't go into it too much but I found out that she had some problems. At the time I wasn't as helpful as I was now, and I was more comedic value, but I tried to help because I can't stand seeing my friends in shitty moods. It Rubs Me The Wrong Way. Like I'm no fighter, but I'd get beat up for a friend as much as I'd probably joke that "If ah fight bruk out is You and God alone, enuh". But that's just a front. I've learnt more and more often that I care, many times, more about others than myself (usually to my own detriment).

Anyways, it was her birthday recently and I don't normally S/O people on their birthdays (I don't know why >__>) but I had felt the urge to do so, but still didn't.. So today I decided to message her, give her a "Happy Belated Birthday" and run a few jokes... then I remembered:

 

I admit that that is a weird statement (but meh, I love being weird) . But it was true. The passive knowledge that she was happy around me (and our friends) made me realise something, though I never knew what it was at the time. But it took me two years to realise this, I mean, the realisation just dawned on me tonight/this morning:

 

 

 

(I reordered the tweets by the way.. )

 

 

"Not Everybody can make a Crying Girl Smile"

 



I recounted this story because it has reminded me of a very important truth. Throughout our lives we interact with many people, and many times one can feel that he/she really doesn't leave a dent, a footprint, a mark or whatever in anyone's lives. But believe me, You, Her, Me; we are all important to someone. We have all left a mark on someone's life (hopefully, however that it is a positive one)... and also, We all have someone, or people, who have left a mark on ours.

 

Your interactions are like letters you've written. Think, however, not about the amount you've sent, but about the amount you've signed.

 

Just Reminiscing,

Me. 

The Friendzone, Love, and the FB messenger app: A Converation....

So this Thursday I had a conversation with a reaaally good (female) friend of mine and eventually we started talking about a lot of things..  Due to my other blogger friend's previous post showing the answers when had gotten from the question "What is Love?" from different people I felt like sharing this convo... so here it is. I'm basically going to start at a very awkward place... just for the medshellment.

DISCLAIMER: These here are the views of me here at impulseprose.blogspot.com and may have material which offends anyone who is against the concept of "Love" or religious (specifically Christian) views... Unfortunately I cannot apologise for these neither do I feel the need to. Oh, also there are A LOT of typos, and this is a good part of a 6hr convo. IT.IS.LONG. so read at your own risk and I am not responsible for any time wasted. I just felt like sharing it. (and this whole DISCLAIMER thing is from a joke that's somewhere in the middle of this convo.... )

And if friends can't switch from a serious 2+ hr convo to one about android apps then I don't know what friendship is....

As Usual
- me

Father

Firstly this should've been written yesterday, but I'm a lazy bastard who was too caught up playing Pokémon. So yeah. But yes. Yesterday was Father's Day; a day which is marked to commemorate the (positive) impact of Fathers on their families. Thus, until I run out of things to say, I shall speak about my father.

My relationship with my parents sucks. No question or comment on that; and it's due to a lot of things which have culminated, not completely anyone's fault (if "fault" is even applicable here). So to be honest I don't have the best father-son relationship. In fact, my father and I as SOOO different it's almost comical. My father is a morning person. That is one of the most noted differences... considering that especially now, as it is Summer, I, the living creature of the night, go to bed when he's waking up. This of course causes some disagreement when he wakes me up 2 hours later to allocate some job/responsibility/chore... The harmony of nocturnal and diurnal creatures is difficult, especially when the diurnal one has the authority and right to give the nocturnal one jobs whilst the accursed ball of fire still scorches the skin and retinas of the beholders. There are other differences of course, including my fathers outdoorsmanship, his people skills, his initiative many of which I will talk about in time.

In April, on my father's birthday I told him that he has always been my role model. That statement is still applicable, and will never be annulled or voided. You see if you've ever read my poem "Mother" (yes, that is a link to it) you will probably come to the conclusion that if I were to have a favourite parent my father would probably have a better chance at that prestigious position. My father is a hardworking, diligent, man who cares about his family and has magnificent people skills (haha sounds like something that would go on a resume or recommendation or something..). That, however, is the kind of person who I want to become, though in many areas I seem to be severely lacking. Though somewhere inside me I've always considered my father a better man than I (on account of being married to my mother for 24 years... wow... 24 years), yet he's the one who's proud of me.

I legitimately don't know how my father does all that he does. Though he's labelled as "Incapable of saying 'No' " (a trait I do have some sign of having), it's through that trait I've seen how selfless a man should and can be. His long hours, work, more work, doing favours, catching up on work due to favours he did, jobs around the house... In some respect my childhood has been quite work free because of everything that he does (so I can't really quarrel about the few jobs I do get... though I will still wait till 1am to do the dishes). His dedication to providing for his family (I've seen him give me his last few dollars to allow me to go somewhere, enjoy something, or simply go to school). Selfless. Responsible.

There aren't many bad things about him. He's a bit patronizing at times, maybe a bit formal, I have memories of him referring to me by my entire first name for most of my childhood (just know I have a pretty long first name),but I think that's it. My father is the Understanding Parent though. He's the one with at least some amount of levelheadedness. (Sentimentality is a trait I share with my mother...) He's almost always calm, dealing with whatever has to be dealt with in a very adult manner... Actually, I think my father has tried the most to create some kind of relationship with me (I'm the one who kinda shrugs it off) and for many reasons I hope my children are more open than I am (needa find a WOIFE wit' dose characteristics) so that even if I'm half the father mine is, I can have a better relationship than exists between mine and I.

Even in my childhood, many of the best memories are with him. GEO TEACHERS HAVE THE BEST FIELD TRIPS, and back then he'd take me off school to go with him. I guess through all the travelling with him I was guaranteed a life free of any motion sicknesses (WOO!!) plus a love of the world around me on a whole (maybe that's why I'm so science oriented).in his youth he played an instrument, he drew, he acted... So maybe my artistic side came from him too... Haha ain't that a
bitch, I'm probably more like him than I realise (which is a pretty happy thought)...

But, and I think most importantly, my father is here. It's really a blessing to have both parents growing up (...) and it's one I think I've overlooked many times. However, when I see how many of my friends and other people I associate with don't have this privilege, especially with the precedence of single mothers these days. I am EXTREMELY blessed to have the man who is my my father as my father.

So Daddy, I raise my glass of your liquor, which I have so often stolen out of the cupboard, to you.
Thank You, and even though I'm not that versed at expressing it, I do love you.

Your Firstborn
-Me.


 
 

 

Passion

pas·sion /ˈpæʃən/ Show Spelled[pash-uhn] 

noun

1. any powerful or compelling emotion or feeling, as love or hate.

2. strong amorous feeling or desire; love; ardor.

3. strong sexual desire; lust.

4. an instance or experience of strong love or sexual desire.

5. a person toward whom one feels strong love or sexual desire.

This post should have been about freedom or something like that since my exams are DONE. (fireworks, explosions, fanfare, stripper jumps out of the cake, other celebratory stuff) But as you must have noticed by now I NEVER end up writing what I plan to (you'll get used to it, I have). Somewhat rambling introduction; check.

Now, and I don't mean to brag or anything this is all apart of the point I'm making, I'm a writer (poems, stories, working on a novel, plays, this blog), an artist (mainly graphic art, I draw a little), an actor, I can do a bit of public speaking and if I haven't forgotten anything I'm pretty smart too. Now all talent means when you're young is that you have potential. The people with potential are burdened by expectations: parents, other family, teachers, even friends expect you to make something of yourself. Of course they mean the best, but a burden is a burden. So when I was like 6 the answer to "What do you want to do when you get older?" The answer was "Teacher" and my mother all but beat that idea out of me. a few years later (about when I was 10) the answer was "Herpetologist". That died a natural death (still interested in reptiles though). For the first like 2 years of high school the answer was doctor (however that was before I had discovered any of the aforementioned talents other than being a smart kid.. so all this confusion started when I began this whole multitalented shit). In short, right now even though my spoken answer, and the answer on paper in the guidance councillor's office is that I want to be a Doctor, when the answer really is that I don't have a clue.

Choose a job you love, and you will never have to work a day in your life.  ~Confucius

I love that quote. However, this brings us to the topic, and the problem I have. I have no passion (umm, definition number 1 up there... would love to talk about the others.. but all things come with time). But really it all comes down to doing what you're passionate about. I have friends who know exactly what they want to be, people who are able to pour themselves into everything they do... and I admire them. Like my friend who will probably be my Member of  Parliament in the future, or another friend who's poetry moves me more than she knows, another who has had too many ambitions (though she said she came up with her final answer).. All of them, and others, have discovered their passions and plan to follow them... Yet my talented ass is so ambitionless it's disgraceful.

I'll have to thank my friend who has more or less the same "lack of zeal" dilemma for reminding me of this at the time I would be least likely to think about it. But really and truly I think no matter how much we worry about this (and I worry about this a lot) It will work itself out. Passion isn't something that's forced. In fact, I think the more we try to force it, the more we worry, the harder it is to be realised.

Anyways I may have more to say on this topic but the sun is coming up and I hear birds outside.... haha gotta love being a night person.

-Me

 
 

We Are People

So alot has hapened over the last week; my computer has failed me, I've been at home for God knows how long, alot of rain (rain... rain has it's effects on me >__> ), even went on a (casual) date. It's been a busy week. Now (and I've never actually mentioned this on the blog before) I'm a total manga otaku (and if you don't know manga, in this case, refers to eastern comics on a whole, and an otaku is an "avid enthusiast"). And over the past week (due to using my mother's laptop) my intrnet usage has been reduced to twitter, facebook and manga. (darn you outated flash player and complicated circumstances) But yeah since 3rd form (or 9th grade or whatever) till now I've read an enormous amount of this stuff (to the point that I'm almost proud of it... which I'm guessing I shouldn't be)...
Anyways, my obsessi- I mean- avid enthusiasm isn't the subjct of this post. But like any media, especially in the realm of entertainment, manga of all genres and from all writers are about people; and though this may not seem like the best place to draw conclusions about people from; I know (being a writer myself) that you write from experience. You create charcters dependent on your grasp of the people you've met, interacted with, observed or simply seen. (Now I'm just not making any sense, I should just go into what I'm saying)

I've often said that I love people, and I truly do, and in my 17 (meh call it 18) years of existence I've had the opportunity to meet more people than my poor excuse for memory can account for. So in this post I'll (try) to point out some of the things I've realised about people some through experience and some probably through dubious means like (I dont know.....) fictional charcters made by people half-way across the globe (though I won't mention them after this point though). But hey, It's my blog, and my *Immediate* Thoughts.

1. We are people who tend to understand others more than we understand ourselves
Have you ever given advice to someone after hearing their situation that is PERFECTLY applicable to yours, then wonder 'why don't I follow my own advice'??? As I've realised we really don't know ourselves half as well as we think we do. Like think about it. When it comes to other people; ets say for instance, our friends. We do in fact have an innate understanding (at least on a basic level) of our friends. We understand how their humour works (know which jokes we can run from which ones we can't), we understand how they generally reacht to certain situations, we understand what they think about certain things etc. Most of this, ofcourse, is due to maybe trial and error, observation etc. However from the beginning of this friendship, there had to be some mutual understanding, by whatever means. I guess similarities, shared interests etc count but they're not sufficient. I've come to be friends with people who i have little or nothing in common with... I believe that in our incredible social arsenal as humans we have the capability of understanding people. However, this capability doesn't quite seem to work that well on ourselves. We do understand ourselves somewhat, but we can hide things from ourselves, things that we need deep self reflection or (get this) SOMEONE ELSE POINTING IT OUT to actually discover.

2. We are people who love to segregate
We see it everyday. We create groups, and then turn groups against each other. Now conflict is our nature blah, blah, blah but we're really stupid about how we use it. I mean we become antagonistic towards people for the worst reasons. Race, gender, the school you go to, the place you come from... Things which sometimes don't even have any personal bearing on your life. And it creates this culture of steretyping which saddens me. I mean it's one thing to make a joke comcerning a stereotype, biut there are people who actually believe that you can bundle people together and stick a tag on them. (now in my lectures on "originality this" and "individuality that" you can basically understand my views on this) What feeds this, however, are two parts of our nature.
1. The need for belonging: we love being part of a group, belonging somewhere, having an identity as such.
2. The need for superiority: we love being in a better osition than others (or atleast feeling that we're in a better position than others) so if we can tag a whole sub group of poeple as being in a worse condition than we are then we will do it.
Neither of these are bad in themselves, it's just how we've approached them. if instead of labeling people as being worse than us we actually worked to be better (and all of us did) then I'm sure the world would be a better place. Similarly if we created our groups in a way that doesn't require antagonism against other groups then we could all work towards ur own superiority (if not over others over our "past self"... (Though i'm just a 17 year old idealist... what do I know??)

3. We are a people whose intentions and actions aren't necessarily coherent
We can legitimately do good things for bad reasons (vice versa). And for some reason it humours me. It makes me wonder how may people were hailed as heroes or imprisoned as criminals while their motives dictated would've dictated the opposite. Like how many people have killed out of love or rescued out out of hatred. We are driven by so many forces yet what we are driven to do is almost completely independent. To me, it's funny... But then it makes one think about one's own motives.

4.We are people who grasp after "impossibilities"
A few years ago the though that the mass of human knowledge, research and discoveries could be held in a man's pocket would have been deemed "impossible" yet now we have the internet which in a way is pretty much just that. A some years before that flight was also "impossible" and we all know how that unravelled. Even now in our imaginations we continually grasp after the things that we are incapable of (look at our entertainment...) The prospect of one day reaching something tomorrow that was impossible today is one of the driving forces behind our personal, and global development.

haaa so I ended up blabbing on about near-useless stuff and this may be a somewhat boring post after all (>_<) but bear with me. And I look forward to- whoaaa looking back on this post it's pretty long... haha, I got carried away. Anyways remember, in every situation; We are People: Nothing More, Nothing Less.

-Me

Friends...

I had planned to make a post today... but not about this. But in the past few hours I've realised something about friends. But before I go into that I'll talk a bit about me and friends. You see; as far as I remember I didn't have many friends growing up. I was a quiet-temper ridden child so that doesn't really surprise me. So my whole social life started when I entered High School. This whole experience of meeting people and becoming progressively closer to them is pretty beautiful. I don't know. Not many things get me as excited as clicking with someone I never new before that moment (or one I've known for a while bet never really talked to before). It's exhilarating (to me at least). I mean even though I suck at relating to them deep down I really love people. So as a result of trying to meet as much people as possible (that's what happens when you move from none to some) I've met some pretty awesome people. They amaze me almost everyday.

Anyways, what I WAS going to talk about was my womanly woes (wait...that doesn't sound right..). You see today, that "certain petite girl" texted me today. after about 16 days of silence (before which was about 7 days of silence and before that was...) But yeah, suffice to say I was surprised as hell. So we talked. For about 15 minutes. 15 minutes. Yes, you read right. I mean yeah, exams and stuff but at least tell a nigga you going into radio silence, that's all I'm saying. Though one friend says I should stop making excuses for her (when you read this just chill zeen?) but yeah. This post was going to be about all the confusion and shit i was feeling at that time. So why did  it change??

Well. Simply: I've been talking to people. No, not people. Friends. It's amazing how deep into yourself you'll look while your friend(s) tell(s) you that your keeping up a bag of fuckery. I mean, I have this one friend who after hearing my "Woe of the Day" asks "and how does that make you feel?"

If that's not a good friend then I don't know what is.  A person who cares enough to make you be truthful about yourself, and then leaves you to make your own decisions with that truth... That is beautiful. 

Another thing is how they view you compared to how you view yourself. 

It doesn't matter what you think about yourself with them. If they think you're awesome then you're fucking awesome..... and today I realised that my I'm awesome... well to the people that matter anyways. And that's a hell of a discovery. So what if there's one girl who thinks I'm boring? They're people here who think I'm awesome...  If she can't appreciate that then I guess we weren't made to enjoy each other, and eventually I'll believe that statement as much as I can type it. 

Now with all my talk, and form my intro to this topic you should realise that friends mean too much for me to really express over this medium (or any medium... I mean I don't think they understand how much I love them... but If you're reading this and you're a friend of mine remember you're closer to me than my family... seriously). So one of the worst things from my perspective is Losing a Friend. I've lost a few actually and  in many ways. 

Firstly you have those people who you've just drifted away from. People Change. (including You). Sometimes these changes cause rifts that just happen naturally. You can't change that... so sometimes you've gotta accept it. Then you have those who you've been distanced from. This one though is really no excuse. I have a friend in Australia (Yes. Fucking Australia.... like 15 hours in time zomes from my seat Australia) and we're still friends even though my communication sucks.

So distance is no excuse. 

You have the friends you push away. Jah knows I have no idea what to say 'bout this one. But it feels horrible pushing people away especially when you know It's for foolishness. That's something you need to sort out for yourself. 

And even though there must be other ways to lose friends, this one is probably the worst. Finally. Death. And yeah I've been there too. Permanent Loss is the worst part of it. Knowing you won't be able to make up for all the shit you did, run another joke, enjoy some foolishness y'all did... knowing that someone who was a part of your life isn't there anymore. Forever. That is Grief. And we probably have all felt that or will in our lifetime. I know our parents have dealt with it too many times in their lives, and their parents before them.... so I guess we're all destined to lose a friend.

So I urge you. Enjoy your friends. Learn from them, Teach them, Do Foolishness Together, Grow Together, Be Honest, and most importantly Be Yourselves Together. (though if you have to pretend around your friends you're in a truly dark place and probably only divine intervention can intervene on your behalf). 

-Me

Pathetic...

pa·thet·ic  /pəˈTHetik/ 

adj. Arousing pity, esp. through vulnerability or sadness. Miserably inadequate.

I've been confronted with that feeling a lot these days, months..... actually for a pretty long time.  But seriously though: What Is Pathetic? 

As in What Defines It? Like why do we feel pathetic when we need someone or miss someone or won't let go of someone? Why is it that showing any amount of attachment or vulnerability "arouses pity" or is "miserably inadequate"? Since when have we embraced this whole "a man is an island" mentality where if one can't exist in solitude then he isn't "adequate". Most mistakes can be laughed at (like me putting nutmeg in my sausage this morning) but once it becomes an emotional issue that whole pathetic feeling comes along.

I won't lie. Pathetic took me by surprise today (which is why I'm writing this). So I come out of the exam of the Wretched Subject, I didn't do too well but I was laughing that off. Then I see Her. Now if you read my Introductions you should remember me talking about a "certain petite girl"... well yeah, Her. Now for whatever reason when we broke up (of course my fault, thus my lingering attachment) she gave me hope. [Now if you're a girl and you're reading this i beg of you; If you have to break up with somebody for whatever reason, don't give him hope. Something can happen in the future and you get back together, but don't give him hope directly following the break off, that shit does crazy shit to you're head. CHUS MI.] Anyways. so after giving me Hope she ignores me for about 2 weeks (which just dawned on me on Sunday). So yeah I'm in a pretty good mood after kinda passing that exam and then I see Her. Vybes Cut. Immediately. Then I realised that the vybes cut, then that pathetic feeling comes in. 

That thought that completely demotivates you. Reminding you of the mistakes, the inadequacies, the downright idiot that you are. The feeling of self Pity. Questioning your worth,strangling the little Self Esteem we can gather as people. Pathetic isn't a good feeling. But is it a bad feeling? 

Sometimes I feel we have a little inner masochist. Like somewhere inside of us actually likes being tortured. Probably it's not normal but we develop about the same time we develop convenience I think. So when something horrible happens we internalize it instead of expressing it like we were made to (though I can't really say anything about that since I'm piled Mile High on the inside). But I'm sure that all the negativity and heartbreak and anger and depression and sadness and neediness and longing and love and all that shit we decide to hole up on the inside, torturing ourselves and feeding that little masochist all for the sake of Convenience, isn't worth it. We'd like to think that we're saving ourselves from hurt, but we're hurting ourselves in the process (and however you think about that; it's dumb) 

And about the feeling itself I have the nagging feeling that it evolved from an emotion that we need(ed). Something which used to motivate us to learn from our mistakes and make ourselves better people. We just turned it into a device of torture. Where we remind ourselves of our shit without actually cleaning it up.  

Somewhat hilariously that pathetic feeling is still gripping me.. But yeah. Just a few thoughts. 

-Me

Loneliness...

OK.. so let's let this be a little thought experiment. of course you can't input directly so it's a bit one-sided and my thoughts will have to suffice for the whole argument. But yeah. The One man Thought Experiment. (I'll use the word "You" alot.. disregard it.. I don't even know anything about you...)

There is no Love in the Home. The damn routine, meaningless conversations, the parental monologue, the seclusion. It's the story of my Life really... not that I wasn't Loved; I'm sure i was. But I never really felt it. I was kind of a prisoner in my own house... the feeling of separation: the Me and the Them... I feel Alone. I hate it... School is a bit different. I love the people.. Different people, with opinions, quirks, hobbies, passions, personalities, experiences, beginnings  aspirations... They appeal to me. So there's a sort of happiness here.. but in the end people have their own lives, and aren't as easily attached as I am. They actually love their homes. Or they can't be here forever right?? Some have matriculated to other things. I miss them. And the ones that are going to leave. I will miss them. Others have just Graduated from me particularly. I miss them too. I guess out here at least I feel happy. But still a bredren/sistren is gonna have to spend a little time with a significant other (no prob with that)... or spend some time with some other non-mutual friends (no prob with that)... or deal with some business(no prob with that).. or............................ Well of course I have things to do too right? Why not just have a woman for yourself (weeeeeeeellll >_> ), make some other friends, have business to deal with?? In the end my experiences feel so different I'm alienated.. or I may even be alienating everybody else. Who knows?? So here I am, Alone again. walking the school campus. Aimlessly. Till i have to go Home. Of course there was a time when I did have someone to walk  aimlessly with.. but those thing end too, I'm saddened to say..(and experiencing a contrasting situation actually makes the emptiness more profound) But yeah. Going Home. Never Fun. Back to the room or the corner (anywhere with the computer really) and an attempted escape from the Aloneness...... The Internet is a strange place. A place where paradoxes are made possible. The analogy of one being in a crowd but still being Lonely? Well that crowd is the Internet. Where you can share an experience with millions of people worldwide without sharing an experience with a fucking soul. There's no better place to be lonely really. A place that gives the illusion of a kind of togetherness... So you tend to hang on to every one of those snips of togetherness. Every message, mention, DM, friend request, follow, like, share, retweet; they now have a greater sentimental value. You start to seek them. Wait for them. Worry when they don't come. But it's only fake interaction, so it digs a deeper pit than was there originally (unless you somehow make a meaningful relationship with someone beyond for a few lulz and notifications) So you take that same "thirst"(haha many types of that around here..) into youre everyday life. Conversations get harder, though response becomes a bit more vital. It legitimately becomes harder to interact with people... But if you're like me you never really were good at that part any ways....

Ok.. I think I've goen far enough with that.. (and some of the points are already in there).. but yeah. Have you ever been legitimately hungry?? Like big-man-ting hungry, white scawl, "RAAWW"  hungry?? well if you have (or haven't) I can assure you that food was (or would be) the ONLY thing on your mind. Loneliness is kinda like that. We all have a need for some amount of human companionship (some more or less than others.. but its there) and human companionship on different levels (family, friends, more-than-friends,lovers and it goes on). So without it we start to get hungry.

So what happens then?? 1. It starts to affect your thoughts. You start realising how other people seem to be happier or better off than you are (may or may not be the case). That "Single" effect where all you see are happy couples, seemingly because you are single.  May even cause you to pull away from others more. 2. It affects your actions. Like hunger you start to think you'll take the food from wherever it comes from. You basically feel that you'll do anything to get out of the Loneliness hole... This is when Shit Gets Real.

Ever wondered why Teenage Relationships are in such disarray (or at least one of the reasons... I have a friend with really good thoughts on teenage r/ships) It's because of the desperation. You feel so in NEED of the relationships that you don't even take the time to form it properly. Then it crumbles.. and you curl into a tighter ball, with more loneliness, more desperation, more heartbreak. And a viscous soul devouring cycle begins........... However;

There Is A Cure

And that is Self Love. (Now I may not be the best person to talk about that, but bear with me) If we loved ourselves a little bit more, we wouldn't be so afraid of being alone. We would actually make sure our relationships were meaningful, we wouldn't allow so much shit to walk gaily through our lives. We wouldn't allow our self esteem to be affected by every adolescent wind that blows our way. A lot of things wouldn't happen. So how does one learn to love one's self............... haha.. Hilariously enough.. I don't think it can be done alone.

-Me

Math

So most people hate math or are afraid of it. And there's nothing wrong with that (actually I wish a few more people were afraid of it so my damn math class wouldn't be so big -_-)  But yeah I, admittedly, like math. Math, unlike most things in life, works out... probably not immediately, but in the end they always do. I guess I find some solace in that.. Plus apart from that philosophical view; I'm naturally good at it. Though I have a somewhat bad relationship with arithmetic (adding, subtracting, multiplying, dividing, counting) my logistics are pretty nice. And I like that feeling of finding something out, especially when it's challenging (same reason why I ADORE programming) so yeah I Like Math.

But here's the problem: I have an external math exam on Tuesday (its Saturday now btw unless I'm mistaken) and I'm here writing a blog post about me not preparing for that exam. WHY IS IT SO HARD TO PRACTICE SOMETHING YOU'RE GOOD AT??? It's like, I'm here with 10 yrs of past papers and my mind is like "meh it's MATH.... I'll just listen to music and talk to [insert girl's name(s) here]" and it's slowly pissing me off... at myself.

I mean I know that I'm nowhere near prepared for that exam (joint responsibility for that.. my teachers never finished that syllabus >__>) but yeah practice is something that can disregard all that. And I'm still here writing about not studying for it.....

Now For The Life Lesson Thing......

Its funny how knowing that you should do something is literally no guarantee that you'll actually do it. It's like this whole Christian Life (which I'm monumentally bad at in my own way... we all have our own way of being bad at Christianity); We all know exactly how we should act, behave, relate to people; and many times we don't even try. A disgrace really... 

And if you're not a Christian or religious in any way; still applies to you. You (we all) know your (our) responsibilities.But we actively shirk them anyways. 

And in the end ("the end" here applying to every situation... so having very far reaching implications for that christian life section I mentioned above) we are the ones who suffer for our active decision to disregard these duties, responsibilities, morals etc. 

So think about that for a bit.... while I try to prepare for that damn Math Test.

-Me

Introductions......

Well if you're here you'll probably learn a lot about me or know a lot about me from before.... but I wanted to introduce myself all the same...

Well.. I'm weird (or at least i want to think so), I'm somewhat above average intelligence, I'm sentimental as fuck, I'm talented and I'm about as good at relationships as the average rock... (of course that could be seen as enough info... but meh.. I'll continue typing till i feel this is long enough )

I'm weird. I'm the science student who's an artist.. there is no way you can do both of those and have any sense of normalcy. Art requires individuality or its not art.... (going off on a tangent here) My beliefs on Art make up a big portion of my Myself-ness.. or Eccentricity.. or whatever. So yeah Art requires idiosyncrasy.... and Sciences just drive you mad.... Seriously.  And I take pride in my weirdness... It's one of my favourite traits.. and I hope I can maintain it forever.

Intelligence. I don't really know what to say about this. I mean I've always been a smart person... called even a "genius" by one or two friends.... So yeah, I'm smart... (I appreciate stuff.... like math >__>) But I seriously think this has impeded me from a lot of things... Do you know how many thoughts goes through this head.. (I mean "normal" people can over think) Not to mention the faith and expectations people have in and for you..... Its Crushing(especially when you have no ambition like myself). Believe Me.

Sentimental as fuck:: Self Explanatory?? well probably not. The hilarious thing about this is that my demeanour is one of nonchalance and a bag of other apathy-related pseudo-emotions. I'm weak. But I've developed a kind of strength in this weakness... I call it the Strength of a Sponge. You can throw shit at sponges, Throw sponges at shit, stab sponges with shit, kick them around...  they don't business.. The only things that hurt the sponge is something that holds it.. thus my point..... Only those who have held me in their hands can(could) tear/break me. And when they chose to rip (which they all have done... believe it or not) all that apathy is disposed of... IMMEDIATELY. ...

Talent. Well I'm a Writer, Poet, Graphic Designer, Artist, Actor  Musician, Manga aficionado and Relationship Shegger. Truly a lot to to talk  about. I'll talk about it later one  day.

As good at relationships as the average rock.......... I meet wonderful women... often.. beautiful, intelligent, personality rich, sense of music, originality .... Shegg it up every time ..  friendships too... I just suck at people on a whole....... Though a few of them stand out..but most crash and burn. And hilariously enough i get attached easily.. >__> ... so there's a certain petite girl here who's done a wonderful job of ignoring me even though i want her more than a should.... seeing as i screwed that up already.. and no.. not that type of screw either >__>

But  yeah that was a little Introduction

-Me