What I've been dreading for this year and half of the next -- because I get out of school in June -- is that I'll never see the people whom I've hung out with (and just now as well)...but there are other worries that I need to document.

This is officially a vent as this has been something on my mind as of late --

I know that life will go on and all sorts of things but life sucks...a lot. Especially when you're not 18 and your parent insists that they hold your hand all the way, bribing you with the benefits of a job they have and the companionship of a woman whom I probably should despise...for being six years older than me...and being married to said parent. :|

I'm having my doubts people -- about that union (that's already documented and official) -- and it made me realize how much of a skeptic I am, or have grown to be.


As kids we listened and did as told. If there was something that caught our eye on the flashing picture square with little people in it (a.k.a the tv) we emulated them, or their likeness. And we thought nothing of it. it was just something we did and thought was right or felt good. That blindness, to the consequences, was something only a kid could do since they haven't quite developed their moral system. Someone had to do it for them, until they could think for themselves. Of my childhood I'll tell you this much:

1) I dressed up as a little princess and held a little party when the dad was away at work. The entree served was no entree but a tray of hastily mixed Quik mix. We gathered in my brother's room (one was living with us that time) and listened to the music of the game he was playing in the other room via receiver and radio. He was notably annoyed. When the time came for the dad to come home, I pushed my guests out the back door while I rushed out the front door, hid behind a dumpster, and (like a stalker) watched him walk from his car to the front door of the apartment. I don't know till this day whether he saw me or not (I was wearing a pink Cinderella dress after all -- it was for a life size barbie).

2) I put a chicken egg -- the ones from the carton -- under a bird plush toy to see if it would hatch. There was even a nest I made of cotton balls. I honestly thought a chick would hatch. When a considerable amount of time passed, I was impatient and cracked the egg open. I noted the white embryo and said that a chick was going to hatch from the egg eventually! If only there was more time... haha of couse not. I was so optimistic about it too.

3) There was a time when a brother and I made a dollhouse (a simple blocky two story one) out of yugioh cards, paper and tape. The windows were saran wrap covered squares and the carpet was some thin spongy stuff that was used to keep decorative objects in place on a slippery surface. Beds were the tops of small boxes stuffed with cotton and the pillows were the round things in jewelry cases to put rings in. The characters we used for this house (and even for chess and a tactics RPG like game) were little toys and figurines, like a mini Pikachu and even a little troll thingy with the hair standing up...among other knick knacks. The toys were leftovers of a very present-filled Christmas. I don't remember the little details of the house now, like how the hell lights were incorporated into that thing but lights were there. Too bad that it was destroyed (probably by him or by the mom, not sure, I don't want to ask). The time spent with this house was time spent away from the mom, who pretty much dominated the house. It was an escape when the video games were taken away.

Of the things I tend to remember from those years were negative visions of my mom (and dad, but mostly my mom) and the embarrasing moments that bring shame to me. I barely remember the fun things. It's always the bad things.

I've tried to think of something else, or not think about it at all, but when the subject comes as to how my life was basically screwed over and turned into a confusing living hell...well, I blame the mom. Then I blame myself because I blame someone who was going through some problems that I could never comprehend (but did she have to resort to hitting their kids or unusually punishing them for miniscule things?). Why am I doing this in the first place? Why should I think of my past if it bars me from moving forward? Living in the present...whatever happened to that?

What I've been asking myself... is this:

"What am I guilty for?"

I do not cling to faith. I am a skeptic.  I trust very little but have a love for mankind and their advances. I also despise mankind for their flaws. It balances each other out. I believe that we are delusional in the sense that we give things, objects, ideas more meaning than they should have. And we blindly go along with it. I disagree with logic being rationalized by untouchable things, so demonstrated by math and lab science.

"What are numbers? What are particles?" I know particales are what makes us but we have to imagine that they're there UNLESS you have the tehnology to see them. As for numbers...well...I have nothing for that. Putting that aside, it teaches you to think logically and that certain things have certain answers, guaranteed answers probably, but that's just me theorizing.

Anywho, though I like what life has to offer (if you're willing to keep with the program) I don't see the point in it if we die and rot in the ground (or are burned to smithereens if you so prefer). (That's why people have "faith" for).

Isn't that called nihilism?

I don't agree with that too.

There is a point in life and that point is what you make it out to be. Your actions do do something to you and other people.

There's another -ism for this but I can't recall it now.

...
..
.
.
.

Vent aside. Ideas are abstract (and I prefer abstract ideas). But it'll kill you. It isn't real. You can't touch abstract ideas. You can keep creating it on and on and on and it'll never end. People will take whatever idea there is, from whatever source -- it doesn't matter -- and morph it to whatever they Will it to be. In a way, we are our own Gods. We govern our life and whatever path we take. We judge others and they judge us...to name a few. If it's so, there isn't any point to wallow in abstractions (to wallow in a false reality -- in our past since it exists in fragments of memory).

So...

Live.

Whatever happens happens -- just let it be and deal with it however your able with whatever you're already supplied with.

...but it doesn't mean that real life attachments can't "kill" you either.

It's all just a matter of time.

Just saying *shrugs*

(I'm most likely going to write a one-shot about this later)

It's disturbing actually. In it, I was running away from the dark but I couldn't since it was everywhere and everything. Even if it was light out, there was always a way for the darkness to follow and scare me.

Put's a whole new context to someone afraid of their shadow...I guess.

Anyway, this is absolute nonsense. I can't stop thinking about it though. Everytime I have to go outside either it be the hallway or the restroom...anywhere! It..just creeps me out (creeps us all out) since whatever the hell is scaring me all the time is me (or another me, the me I don't want to remember because almost everyone I knew when I was that old me associated me with a certain scary movie that I absolutely can't stand).

It's ironic that I like scaring people (or surprising them in a way).

Haha, so I'm scaring myself. Karma, much? (Man, I'm screwed :p )

Argh, I'm so stupid sometimes. Who knows, my personas may stem from my immaturity and aren't really "real" and is my excuse to "relive my childhood." There's a lot of possibilities. Me being a delusional SoB is one of them.

To get that cosplay post out of the way...

How is everybody?

Just last week, first quarter ended so we had to rush on tests and the like. Surprisingly, I think I did pretty well, but you know how hoping goes (that later on you did worse than you thought). Then, three weeks later, right before Thanksgiving break (a week long break - huzzah!) we'll have a district assessment (and the three weeks after that and so on... I believe I've ranted about this before...if so, sorry for being repetitive). All in all, I'm not partial to tests.

To tell you the truth, there have been times where I could have blogged about something...but I chose not to (stupid me). I really should try to blog more...


The reason I haven't been blogging are two things: school and video games.

School is self-explanatory. This is my last year, everything has to be in order to graduate. This enables the imaginary Stress-o-Meter in my brain to rise, rise, rise...almost enough that the meter is at it's breaking point. Playing games helps, but that means less time for drawing and writing (well, I can't really say writing since I've been writing random ballads and poems, with some related to a particular story etc.).

I feel like I should delve more into the games I'm playing so I might do a post on that since I just finished playing Fire Emblem : Shadow Dragon. :| A loooot of things I want to rant about that...but that's my gamer side talking. :D He's angry, he's German, he's a gamer and he likes Crunch bars!/bad inside joke.

This could just be another figment of my imagination since childhood. The personalities I mean. Talking to yourself doesn't mean that there's another you, nor does it mean that you're crazy (doesn't it?).

Anyway, now you know why I'm anti-social (haha). I'll introduce you to these de-lightful people later when I figure out why they're here in the first place (and the reason besides, "They're here because I believe they're here."). Well, I'm off to be my own psychologist since there is no time (or money) to see a professional one.

Sorry if my first post back is a bit on the negative side.

It's only been the second day and it's...great.

Here's my schedule:

1 - American Government/Drafting
2 - English 4
3 - Anatomy & Physiology
4 - Algebra II
5 - Art I/Economics
6 - Horticulture

* the classes after the / are the classes I'll have in the Spring Semester

Alright. I know I've mentioned something about me not being a Math person but it's really weird that a Senior should have Alg II in the first place. >.>

I have a theory on why I despise Math but I'd end up typing two or two hundred paragraphs of me putting my hatred/dislike of Mathematics in layman's terms. BUT, being that this is the only class I really need to focus on (since everything else, even English, is fairly easy stuff) that's enough to motivate me to even want to learn about stuff I may/may not use later on. :) I decided on Illustration as my major (finally decided and I feel better about it).

So, to my First Day of school -

I've covered the whole Mother Nature sabotaging me part in the last post so I'll just move along (so I can get some work done).

First of all, I almost panicked because I wasn't sure where my class was so I had to ask a teacher...and...wow. D: For that brief second, I was reminded of Grey, the protagonist from Year Zero. Of course, it was a tiny voice at the time but as I walked away I couldn't help but mentally slap myself.

You know on every first day, you look for people you know in your classes. Whether you want to or not, it's what you do. You can't help it since it is a new year and all. :) Walking in first period (and I wasn't tardy, woo!) I felt awkward. I mean, you see empty seats and a sparse amount of people and they're all looking at the doorway. But, fortunately, there was someone I somewhat knew and that made it better.

Second period, not so lucky. Though I do have some people from last year's English class but it isn't like I talk to them frequently.

After second, we have a ten minute break called Brunch... In which I met someone too (and that made me happy).

Third...was interesting. The teacher's kinda cool - like the intelligent-cool teacher everyone has mixed reactions about - though the introductory speech dragged a bit. And me, being a fool and sleeping two or so hours before having to wake up, was nodding off. That is the last thing you want to do ever when you have a teacher like this guy - there's that fine line between lenient and strict.

Fourth I coincidentally have the same teacher I had when I took Algebra II during Sophomore year. D: Yes. I have failed this damn class for two years straight but do take into account that some serious family crap was going on and I nearly bombed all my classes then. Sophomore year and partial of Junior year is something I'd rather not remember.

Anyways, pretty basic stuff... NOT. I'd hate to get all girly on you guys but there was this German exchange student who everyone (mostly the girls) freaked out over. (Damn my modesty or lack of caring/shallowness) Simply put, he was just really really pretty...for a dude. Not just that, he was tall and had a really deep accent. It sucks how many of the girls paid more attention to him than the Chinese Exchange student. I was also reminded of a character, who, if they lived here, on Earth, would probably be German...

After was lunch. It was a sad lunch. xD I walked around in the halls just looking for a spot to sit - and was perusing to see where my next class would be when... HOLY -- Sorry people, I have this fixation on awesomely styled hair (it's 'cause I'm strangely attached to my hair - it's fairly long now atm >.> it's something from my childhood when my dad used to cut my hair and it made me sad as to how straight and short it was always cut. It was also the era before I had bangs). But yeah... Sadly, I think I'm hated by this person (or just awkward on some levels - again, something happened between the both of us during Sophomore year - yep, right when I was feeling my lowest). We aren't on speaking terms but :) "Thank you" is what I'd say if I ever get the chance (like never)... Though I doubt they'll know why I'm thanking them.

So after, looking around, I found a good spot to sit, read some chapters of The Brothers Karamazov till the bell rang and along I went to...

Art class! In which the teacher was new and originally came from Germany with English as her second language. And people were rude enough to make fun of her without her knowing. It was just a lot of introductions again. I was hoping that we could do some drawing excercises - like shading, shapes etc. but that didn't happen. I was disappointed but today we got working (somewhat). I'm still nervous about drawing with people next to me though...

Sixth period is Horticulture...more like Landscaping. Fortunately, I am not alone. :) Fun times. We basically pulled weeds, raked, swept, hosed down windows... It's just awesome. Not to mention we get to plant stuff later on. I think it's epic that this is a year-long class! What a way to end the day right?

So there.

First days are always awkward. Actually any "First..." thing is. It's almost like it's built right into the word itself. There's the general nervousness, the excitement, the letdowns and the relief you feel after the day is done.

I may sound as if I'm talking/typing right out of my arse, but it's my last First day on the school I've attended to for three years. In those three years I actually liked this school. Also, it's somewhat reassuring that two of my half-brothers walked the same halls and fields. But now it's being torn down and redone. I feel that at the end of the year I will lose something and gain something in return. I'm unsure as to how large this thing I lose will be, I mean, what if what I gain and lose don't equal up? It wouldn't seem very fair.

Anywho, there's my fear for you. One of my fears. The other fear are the words I will never say to the people I will never, most likely never ever ever see again.

Oh and the answer to this riddle was...

A writer's notebook! /fail

I must be crazy to start writing spontaneously from a list I made up yesterday. A total number of 32 titles - unless I add more of course. I call it the "Possible Title List" because I was thinking up of a good title for that vampire story (so far still unnamed). I said to myself, because I was getting possible titles for everything else BUT that story, "Why not write them out?" And I did.

One of those titles was -

The Castle of Cloud/Klaude/Klaude's Castle

So now you know why I had that piece up in the past post. Now for the angry part.

"Why did you start this now?!!?" *headdesk*

Now for the excuses part.

"Just to start writing so I can follow up with the unfinished chapters in the other stories."

Now for the "You idiot" part.

"Still, you should've left it as a one-shot, you idiot."

And then for the "Wait a minute" part.

"Wait a minute, it isn't like I knew it was going to blow out of proportion. Besides, it's for fun. It has no deadlines or anything of the sort."

"But so is everything else you started - except that one thing a year ago... Still. you should've waited maybe, or thought it over. Working on three stories while having to cough up drawings? What are you doing to yourself?"

"Doing what I love of course. Writing, drawing... I know it should matter because everyone else I know has their futures laid out for them while I don't. One's getting married, the others going to community college to study, another is moving out and another is probably going to go nowhere (no offense whoever I'm talking about, I'm pulling out examples from my currently dead brain). The uncertainty, of course it scares me, but I can't sit here and worry about things that don't exist!"

"Your point?"

"So... My way of coping - way of staving off the worrying - is to write what I've always wanted to write about, whatever comes to mind, whatever troubles I'm going through - every single thing that I see and hear goes into my writing somehow. It's the medium that I'm much more comfortable expressing myself freely."

"...you do know your setting yourself up for a great fall? Those worlds you've created, yes, those you hide yourself in, eventually it'll consume you whole and what will happen then?"

"That's why you're here. you can stop that from happening."

"But you don't listen!"

"Okay. Yes. I admit, I write sometimes on impulse -"

"Sometimes?"

"Hey, you've got to give me some credit now. I write because I want to and I can. Sometimes it's impulse, sometimes it's obligation or determination to see those chapters accumulate in your documents folder or get to a certain scene you particularly like."

"...okay."

"But talking about writing is so much more simpler than actually doing it. It's actually - everything, life, drawing, writing...not so much writing, just some specific stories are giving me trouble at the moment - starting to collapse, like the floor just...dissolved, or is dissolving slowly. I feel I need guidance, yet I don't want it."

"There's an easy solution."

"What?"

"Get out more. Walk the block - and not in your head or just down the stairs - actually go outside, wear pants and shoes and walk. The thing when writing, everything consumes you even if there is no specific rise in word count. The worlds, the characters - their voices, desires, loves and hopes and their fate - you hold them all in your mind and that wears you out. Before you know it everything mixes together, becoming a single monstrous entity that you carry like Atlas and the sky. So, mentally, you get crushed and maybe you can take the pressure but it eventually gets to you. You know your limits but even then you disregard that - thinking you're invincible - and push the envelope. And it's all for the characters."

"I love them all, shouldn't that matter?"

"Yes. but, love itself is like fiction. It isn't a physical like a person. It's an idea, an emotion - a character - and is malleable. It's definition is different for everyone and is used in different ways. Love is indirect. Adoration is a bit more closer to being clear with what you say. Think of it like this: Love is to Adoration; Beautiful is to Attractive; Movie characters to the Working man, you know, that guy working down the block at the construction site. You don't see them whistling."

"Now it's my turn to ask your point."

"Of course you love your characters. You made them. But you can't physically show them you care and vice versa. They don't exist so your love is, as it's multiple definitions, very empty. You're only saying it to give them more meaning."

"And...?"

"That'll kill you. You fear Death. I know you - I am you - and you don't want to die not doing anything."

"Sure. But the mad part of being a writer - the madness of being "brave" - is to face your fear."

"Oh. Right. Like being "brave" in writing is helping you in real life."

"Okay. I'll consider that -"

"It's true!"

"Alright. But I don't want to live in real life..."

"There's your problem."

"But it isn't like I know that. Since we're being honest, I envy everyone else who isn't missing out on...on whatever this time of our lives is supposed to be... BUT, I do not envy the things that some people do to themselves just to "live" among other teenagers. At least, what I'm doing, isn't so life-changing as, say, having a baby when you're seventeen."

"..."

"I don't want that kind of "real-life." My "real life" is different. Besides, this is summer. My last summer as a k-12 student. Next year it'll either be "college kid" or "freeloader." You'll just have to see - that's what everyone says."

"... Being uncertain is killing me."

"And I embrace being uncertain."

"This is giving me a headache."

"I know - I'm you remember?"

"Why the hell be a writer? There's the options of being an illustrator...or a psychologist. Ach, this ache is killing me..."

"Haven't I already covered that?"

"In a nutshell, please."

"I'm insane, duh."

...and am lazy enough to not think of a more imaginative title.

So I'm sitting here thinking of a rant I could type up. A few seconds later, I change my mind - "who would want to read a rant," I query, "I do doubt that I'll make much sense." So this won't be a rant (hopefully) - and it's not directed at anyone here either (many of my rants aren't anyway). :)

Sunday Scribblings #172 - The Plan

Why not write? Just write.
Technical terms literally cramp my style - my voice -
You're killing Art did you know?

Overly literal
Overly realist
Sometimes over-thinking situations can land you in the gutter - how very sad -

To you
From me
A present of everlasting scorn - Happy Birthday -

Here's my broken piece of Art
wrapped all nice and pretty and scented of the most pleasant smell -
It's just what you wanted isn't it?

Loosen up
Chill out
Make the best of your time instead of moping about -

Quit marching around -
only one of the many participating in Their Grand Plan -
Get the hell out of that gutter and move the way you want to

We all have a song, a beat, we move to
We may not agree but we walk a similar path -
Don't ask questions about Art

Just Do It.

I suppose I'm fairly upset because 1) I keep writing for ch.7 of YZ but it FAILS every single time and I have to start over 2) I'm caught between wanting to draw because I've got some people counting on me now (three or four - including myself since that was my first career choice) 3) It's super, super, super HOT and dry and we're trying to save electricity by not turning on the AC.

I'm caught between a crossroads and I'm not sure what to do. One side says write, the other says draw, going forward means I'm stalling till I get to another crossroads and, who knows? That might be the last time I get to stall my way through? *sighs*

Anywho, I found this site where a published writer gives advice (here). I thought it was pretty helpful. :) Oh. And here's something I'm reading at the moment.

One last thought - I was thinking of starting a sketch blog of some sort. you know, take pictures (or scan but mine isn't working) of things that were drawn and post it for everyone to see. I really do draw a lot but never upload them to sites like deviantArt if it isn't finished in some way. And I do not like uploading sketches either - it looks like crap since it's like an online gallery/portfolio.

Ah, there's my thoughts for tonight.

"So what did you do this weekend?"

"Hmm, let's see. First I interviewed a psychopathic serial killer. Then I killed some people after breaking into their houses at, what, 3-4 am - can't remember - anyway, chopped the kid up, sewed'em back together... Ehh. Let's see, what else? Oh! I also managed to go to the airport, get seriously bored, troubled, then board the plane -"

"... What?"

"The plane thing? Oh I'm trying, honestly, but my handwriting's crap - can't read a thing..."

They leave.

"So what did you do this weekend?"

"Ate, slept, drank and wrote like hell on my computer till it was five in the morning."

"That's nice."

"Indeed."

"Anything else? Did you ever go outside maybe?"

"I think I did but I can't remember."

"Ookay... I'll see you later."