How Times Change!

It's quite late at night, well, technically speaking, quite early in the morning.
I was tired, but I felt an update to this was in order, seeing as I haven't written here in over a month.
I suppose the reasoning for that is very simple; I only tended to write here when something was troubling me or otherwise taking up negative space in my life.
The main reason for my absence is primarily due to the fact that I haven't had much to trouble me at all lately.
It makes me wonder how much longer I'm actually going to be writing in this blog.
You see, the past month or so has been one of my happiest. If you know me well, it's not up to me to explain why that is, and speaking quite frankly I shouldn't have to take the trouble to explain why I'm so happy. All I have to say is this in regards to my happiness, it's very funny how the most enjoyable moments of one's life seem to be very unexpected. It's also very interesting that no matter how much one may suppress certain feelings and emotions, they have a way of coming to the forefront and taking complete control of you. It's sort of your mind's way of letting you live your life to the fullest. A subconscious pump of adrenaline, if you will.

School's been out for over a week now, and I've got a heck of a summer coming to me.
I have literally nothing planned until late July, when I take my annual trip to one of my favorite places in the world, Cape May. All else I've got planned is marching band rehearsals and college visits. Until then, rest and relaxation is the name of my game.

I really haven't much else to say. I apologize for my lack of compelling writing, I'm sure I'll think of something else to write soon enough, something that doesn't directly relate to any sort of problems I'm having. (Finally!)
I leave you with a thought...

"Love and sex have co-existed as long as time, but humanity often forgets that one does not need to exist in order for the other to exist."

Poetic? I think not.

Tonight, I don't really have much to enlighten anyone on.
So, in order to save you the immense dissatisfaction in what could be possibly the most drawn-out series of thoughts that will ultimately culminate in nothing gained...
I present a poem for your enjoyment.
It is thus far untitled. (I'm working on it.)

What if we bought time, and gave it a home?
Would we use it, or lose it?
Should we feed it, or mistreat it?
Could we cherish it, or demolish it?

Could it be kept on a leash, and would it come when we called it?

Should we watch it try, or let it die, or hope for it to satisfy?
Would it leave us in suspense, or make amends?
Come to greet you, or try to defeat you?
Would it give you a helping hand, or push your face into the sand?

Whether for or against us,
Completed or commenced for us,
Sitting, standing, or lying down for us,
Smiling, worrying, or crying for us,

Time will not let us down.

Stormy Skies

I'm kind of a weird kid. I strongly prefer a raging thunderstorm, complete with downpour and high winds, to a bright sunny day. The sun is nice and all, but I've found I suffer from a peculiar sort of complex during sunny days. As I sit in my room doing whatever it is that occupies my time currently, whether it be guitar playing, trumpeting or MouseHunt, (mostly MouseHunt), on a sunny day I will be plagued with a sense of guilt that I am not outside enjoying the beautiful day. It's almost enough to cause me a bit of stress in that I am doing nothing productive, when I could easily be outside, presumably doing something a bit more constructive. The logic behind that is a tad flawed, however; as being outside, in the long run, will not typically bring about any sort of major life improvement, more so than remaining inside. Back to my main point, however, on a night such as this where it is pouring rain, I can find solace in knowing that everyone else, much like myself, is sitting inside doing absolutely nothing of particular interest. The truth is, I'm more inclined to want to take a nice leisurely walk outside in the middle of a thunderstorm than I am on a sunny day. Then I remember that rain gets you really wet. Stupid obvious common sense, ruining what could be an excellent idea.

Comparable to last week, which was nothing short of the lowest level of hell, this week breezed on by quicker than the winds I can hear whistling outside, or faster than the flash of lightning that zigzagged through the sky just now.

Have I mentioned that I believe that thunderstorms are incredibly beautiful?

In the moment that I revelled in the beauty of the raging thunderstorm just now, I've had an epiphany. Much of what I find so endearing about thunderstorms is what I typically look for in a girl. An obvious sense of beauty, and not necessarily superficial beauty, (perhaps such as a sunny day?), but a sense of beauty that one finds after an analysis of what one believes to be beautiful. In a nutshell, I mean to say that a less obvious, but once discovered, very powerful beauty occurs. Not the kind that makeup or clothing can endorse, more of an intrinsic sense of beauty one can only discover for themselves. Secondly, a certain strength exists in a thunderstorm, no arguing that. I also find a sense of strength very attractive in a girl; the fact that they can endure a period of emotional or physical stress with relative ease, much as I am able to. Lastly, a thunderstorm has a sense of spontaneity to it, because one never knows when the next flash of lightning is going to occur, or a crack of thunder, or a sudden downpour of rain. I feel the same should hold true for a girl; that a bit of unpredictability always keeps things interesting.

I know what you're thinking; of course I've got girls on the brain.
I'm a teenage boy, and as my parents would say, raging with hormones.
Although I must admit, the fact that I compared a thunderstorm to desirable traits in a girl is a bit beyond my typical cogitative scope, and frankly I am a bit surprised by my discovery.
Funny what kind of realizations can occur at 1 in the morning, isn't it?

¡Feliz Cinco de Mayo!

I'm not entirely sure why my blogs are invariably written around 11 p.m. Are the moments before I go to sleep somehow more psychologically stimulating than if, say, I had decided to write this after getting home from school?

I just realized what I said there. School drains the mental capacity right out of me, and writing directly afterward would only serve to get a sentence or two about how terrible school was.
I now pause to go on a mini-rant about school.

Don't get me wrong, I'm a good kid and stay in school, I don't cut class, I (usually) finish all of my homework, but something about the setting of an educational facility annoys the living hell out of me. I have somewhat of a creative and logical capacity for thought, I believe. My sense of logic and analysis is fairly adequate. However, the setting of school completely oppresses all of my sense of rational thought. Something about the aura of a classroom provides me with an all-encompassing sense of indifference. I can't bring myself to use the sense of logic and analysis that I typically enjoy. Teachers often ask me why I glaze over in class, why my in-school writing activities are less proficient than they should be, and why my participation is less-than-average. I don't know. School is a sedative for me. Fortunately, this does not extend to any sort of exams. In actuality, I am a very successful test taker and essay writer, but only when subjected to the pressure of an exam. I suppose it is only in conditions of informality that my laziness kicks in.

So much for a mini-rant. I had a great deal more to say than I had expected. Such is common in my advanced state of lethargy.

This week has been somewhat unkind to me thus far. The only saving grace from being in a terrible mood is the remaining euphoria of Junior Prom. It's actually quite the phenomenon, I had not planned on attending it until two days before. It's funny how fate steps in when life's got you down, isn't it? I had an excellent time, and even had a date! What are the odds? Me with a date?
Ha. Feel free to scoff. I know you will.

Anyway, it's high time I hit the sheets. Good night, all! ¡Feliz Cinco de Mayo!

Be Prepared!

While I wait for the Hunter's Horn once again, another entry into the series of endless ramblings.
I apologize in advance for the very possible switch in syntax or style, as every 15 minutes I will inevitably pause from my writing to sound the horn.
MouseHunt is the only drug I'm taking on this rainy, smoke-hazed April 20th night. It's more addictive that most of the drugs in existence. Cocaine, heroin, crystal meth? Ha! I laugh at the inferior addictiveness of these drugs. MouseHunt reigns superior to them.

I was watching the Lion King for what I believe to be about the 14th time today. I never fail to shed tears during the scene in which Mufasa dies, and Simba is calling out to him to wake up. Tears are welling up just thinking about the scene. That has to be one of the most awesome movies invented, and I do not use that word lightly. It has everything a good movie should have, a thrilling plot, a tear-jerking scene, an epic battle, and musical numbers that fail to leave your head for years, none of which you are annoyed by.

On an unrelated, (but not really), note, I just caught an Abominable Snow Mouse. (All you MouseHunters out there should have some idea about how epic that is.) Hell yes!

Back to the Lion King. I've been singing Can You Feel the Love Tonight and Hakuna Matata for about 2 hours now. Good times...

That's all I've got for this installment. As I told my friend Becky, I'm very short on words today. It must be an epic case of the Mondays.

Goodnight, all!

Satis!

(I frequently post titles in Latin. For all of you who know none, shame on you, and the title means "enough!")

I can't take it anymore.
You have to hear it.

I lied a few days ago.
There is something that singularly eats away at me every single day.
And it's about time that you heard it.
I don't even care that I just began a sentence with and, and that I could have just as easily combined it with the previous one in a conjunctive clause.
There are more important things that need addressing, and I'll type them in the somewhat ambiguous poem that I wrote a few minutes ago. It has no meter, no rhyme, and no logical pattern.
It's ranting, pure and simple.
Don't try to figure out what it means, I prefer it that way.

The way I looked into your eyes and smiled means nothing,
But the way he snatches you away means everything.
How I talked to you, hung on to every word you spoke was not important,
Yet he cares not what you speak or feel, and you give him all your care.
I'm not dangerous, so I'm not worth your time, and I sit here and cry,
While I watch you risk your life.

Thank you for your time.

April Fools and Follies

April showers bring May flowers, the saying goes.

I'm an enormous fan of rainy days. After all, the rushing sound of the rain is proven to be one of nature's calming pills. The sound of rain dropping against the metal of the gutter above me sounds almost musical. This isn't much of a surprise; musical things occur in nature ubiquitously. The chirping of birds, wind rushing through trees, some small animal scurrying about in a pile of leaves left over from last autumn, the slow bubbling and churning of some small, winding stream, all equate to the sound of the instruments in a symphony orchestra.

However, the May flowers born from this wet sonata bring allergies. Stupid pollen.

My oh my, it's been such a long time since I could sit down at my computer and type without any sort of rehearsal or otherwise time-consuming event interrupting me. I apologize for my taciturnity; I've recently been involved in a number of events, most recently the high school's musical, Seven Brides for Seven Brothers. As a first-year member of the pit orchestra, I don't feel any sort of nostalgia toward the play. Listening to senior goodbye speeches, while touching, didn't quite strike the chord needed for me to start crying. Besides, I never cry during events such as those. The water works come afterward. I'm sure next year, I'll feel something, although never as strongly as those who have been involved in theater for 4 years. It would only be 2 for me, assuming I'm in the pit orchestra next year.

Anyway.

These past few weeks have been somewhat good to me. Nothing really awful has happened, there were a few setbacks, but nothing worth dwelling on. All I'm really doing at the moment is fighting off a cold and eagerly awaiting spring break to begin. Believe you me, I need the rest. The last two weeks, while favorable, have been both physically (blame weight room) and mentally taxing. Sleep is imminent.

Nothing especially troubles me enough to talk about. I know, boring, but nothing I'm feeling really needs to be talked about. I think I'm numb to a great deal of things at the moment. To be honest, I'm not at all questioning this. I'm enjoying it. Maybe it's just because I love the rain so much, and it calms me.

Thanks for reading!

Nemini Crede!

For all you Latin buffs out there, the title reads "Trust no one!"
My oh my, the paranoia that has ensued because of these two simple little words.
I'm looking around corners, walking faster than usual to get to class, and stuffing my fingers in my ears when I get the slightest hint of anyone planning to talk to me.
The only solace I can take is in my friends, who will (hopefully) protect me in these perilous times.
What a great game, Gut is an absolute genius for doing this. He must be having so much fun watching us all suffer...

Anyway, on to the weekly rant.
It would be daily, but lately I'm much too lazy to ramble on. Which is quite interesting, as I have the tendency to ramble on when I'm exhausted. Often I'll emit incessant amounts of sentences of varied syntax and eloquence, sort of like the way I am now. However, free time to write has been a very rare occurrence, so these postings are rare as well.
So enjoy it. Or don't. I'm too tired to argue with any of you.

Do everything you can for the greater good, I believe that's a Platonic concept, or a Marxist one. Don't quote me on this, my knowledge of philosophies and their origins is very incomplete. For the greater good. My mind construes this as less of a Marxist theory and more of a "do the right thing" theory. The "greater good" is variable from person to person, and that certainly holds true for me. You see, I've been having a bit of a problem with discerning what the "greater good" is these days. What do I do that will prove ultimately beneficial to myself? One problem in particular is plaguing me as far as the answer to that question goes.

I'm trying to work out my feelings toward a particular person; as I am unsure at the moment how exactly I feel about this person. The moment I come close to figuring out the answer, something else pops into my head. Thus is my curse; I've been plagued with the curse of over-analysis for as long as I can remember. Anyway, to avoid going off on a tangent, I can't pinpoint my feelings one way or the other.
This problem is also two-fold.
Somebody else, I believe, is after the person in question. The fact that I feel any sort of feeling at all upon knowing this causes me to question my feelings toward this person even more. Why feel any sort of jealousy toward a person if you don't have any sort of feelings about them? There's also another complication.
My low sense of self-esteem prompts me to allow the other person to win over the person I am confused about, simply because that person deserves the one I am confused about more than I do.
Who am I to interfere with something that should not be controlled by me? Yet, I have the nagging urge to do something about it. I'm basically paralyzed while at any attempt to do anything about this problem.

And there is still another who graces my thoughts daily...
Vae tibi (woe to you) is the only way to save myself in the aforementioned game.

Vae mihi seems like the more appropriate phrase in this situation.
If you can't translate it, look it up.

Thanks for your time!

Call it in the air, heads or tails

Now that my brain has finally been filtered of the (annoyingly elementary) math I had to use during the HSPA today...

Sit back and imagine this.

You're given a difficult choice.
It's one of those life-altering decisions you must make, the outcome of which could either make or break your entire life; and after having made the decision you find yourself wondering what the outcome of the other choice would have been. (Isn't the subjunctive mood wonderful?)

The proverbial red pill or blue pill, for any of you Matrix fans out there.

Now here comes the interesting part.
How is it that we label certain choices as "life-altering" and others as trivial? If you've ever seen The Butterfly Effect, (starring Ashton Kutcher, great movie, I highly recommend you see it), the decisions we make at pivotal points in our lives subsequently affect the rest of our natural lives.
Who's to say when a certain point is pivotal?
A choice is a choice. Most of the time they are two sided, one option or the other. (Flip a coin, my good friend John always says...)
Any choice made has an outcome that affects you, whether on a small scale or a large one. Any moment in your life, where you have to make a choice, even as simple as "should I wear my Latin Club T-shirt or my funky green one" (Yes, this is a choice I made this morning. If you saw me today, I chose the funky green one), can alter the turn of events that occurs.

Say I decided to go with wearing my Latin Club T-shirt today. Perhaps, upon walking home from school, and stopping at Greenberry's, I took off my jacket. A man happened to see the writing on my shirt, and asked me what it meant. I would respond, and the man would laugh at the humor of the shirt. (Sumus fatalis machina. We are a deadly machine.) Suppose this man was a reporter for the Daily Record. He would then ask if I wanted to be interviewed about the Latin Club and its proceedings. Thus, the Latin Club would be on tomorrow's headlines.

Yes, it's a long shot.
But anyone who believes in "anything is possible" theory will agree with me that it can happen.
As simple a choice as deciding what shirt to wear could change how your whole day, or more, turns out.

In a roundabout way, this brings me to the point.
There are no pivotal moments in one's life.
There are choices, and while at first some may seem to have more gravity, any choice can bring about some kind of life-altering event.

These are my thoughts at 11 o' clock at night. I could never have them during the school day; school is the worst kind of sedative.

Thank you for your time!

In Medias Res

It was a really nice day today.
Snowy, no school, woke up in Felipe's new house.
Overall, I'm quite content with today!
Unusual, but I'm not going to complain, as I've always been one to take what I can get.

So, the annual assault of standardized testing is close on the horizon.
Lovely.
The only solace I can find in taking these tests is that I am easily able to aggravate the grader.
If I'm being forced to spend hours taking this test, you'd better take a good look at my answers, dammit!
That's why this time around, I'm taking a leaf out of my good friend Felipe's book and taking the picture prompt they always have us write, (aren't the tests supposed to vary?), and twisting it.
Though not quite in the way he did; I am going to mess with the grader's heads.
I dare not mention it here, as I'm sure there have been these types of, conspiracies, if you will, to piss graders off.
Let's just say they're in for it this year.
Of course I won't bomb the test! My educational career is (or at least they say it is) at stake here! I'll cleverly work my black magic into my oh-so-creative and grammatically correct writing.
I just won't tell you how I'm going to do it.

With that rant behind me, I move to my next topic of interest. Or disinterest. Call it what you will.

I've been a confused little boy lately.
I'm usually the type to easily work my feelings out on a situation.
Unfortunately, this time that's not quite the case...
My heart is trying to travel down two different paths. Cheesy, yes, but also true.
I'm unsure about my feelings toward two different people. Normally, this wouldn't be a problem, as I'm adept at working out my feelings.
But this situation just seems not to want to be worked out, and the more I lean toward one person, the more the feelings for the other seem to trouble me.
Tug of war is a terrible game to play, in both the physical and emotional sense.

Seeing as it's quite late, I'm hitting the sack now.
19 more days until spring begins!

"Call me insane, call me irrational, call me impossible. Just don't call me tomorrow."

A Weary Man's Thoughts

These last three days have been a blur of activities, half of which I can barely remember.

No, not like that.

These were sober activities; the best kind of activities.
I'm talking about spitball fights, stalking people, the Lion King, pool, and hilarious videos.

Add flour and you've got one heck of an awesome and delicious weekend cake.

Alas, all good things must end, as school starts again tomorrow.
However, I can take solace in the fact that the week is shortened to three days, two of which are B days, in which Chemistry is my one and only academic class.

Enough about that.
Dwelling on the past leads not to the future.

Now I'm utterly exhausted, and for the first time since middle school, I may in fact hit the sack before 10.

*Gasp*

You may want to document that one.
Just kidding.

Please forgive my incessant rambling, the few of you that may be reading this. As my energy level diminishes, so does my rationale for knowing when to shut up. Thus, unfortunately for you, my sentences may grow a bit too lengthy and expressive; but the use of the semicolon will fix that. (Never will I ramble with incorrect grammar. It's practically a sin.)

So anyway, back to my main topic.
I can only hope the days to come will be as completely and totally sweet as the last few have been. I know they will be as busy as the last few days; especially tomorrow.
School, Spectrum, and Sectionals.
Why they all coincidentally start with an S, I don't know.
So does sleepy, which I will undoubtedly be by the end of the day. (More like exhausted, but I had to keep up the S theme.)

Without further ado, I bid the world, and by the world I mean the very few, if any, readers goodnight.

"Any voice not hers is undeserved to hear, every sight not her meaningless to see."

Luck of the draw.

Happy Friday the 13th!

Despite the superstition, today was a reasonably good day!
I aced the two quizzes I had today, had a half day in school, got to spend some quality time with my friends, and not far into my walk home from Felipe's house, Cassie and her family picked me up. (While on one of their back-and-forth trips to their new house, I presume.)

So all in all, not a bad day.

Tomorrow is looking mighty bleak though, I have to say.
An early Happy Valentine's day to all, I won't be able to say anything tomorrow, as I'll be away.

Happy is a funny word to mention about Valentine's, as mine will be anything but.
I'll likely be spending it alone, playing guitar, and watching the reruns of House that I strongly hope will be playing.
I have no Valentine this year, a first for me in two years, and it's quite odd, to say the least.

If there are any active readers of my blog, (which I doubt), there is someone I very strongly hope to be my Valentine.
But I seriously doubt anything will come of that, but that won't prevent me from hoping...

Anyway, to prevent myself from ranting, I end it here. To all those who will be spending Valentine's with the one they love, (this goes especially for John and Dan!), enjoy this romantic day!

"Her rejection of her past was the first, last, and only step toward her future."

*Sniffle*

The symptoms of my sickness don't usually inhibit my daily routine.
They annoy the hell out of me as I go about it!
Grrrrr.

I hate winter.
I'd gone a month and a half without getting sick, and finally my streak is broken.
In 50-degree weather, in February.
Go figure that one out.

So Here I Am

Well then, seeing as still no one reads this, it appears I'm talking to myself.

I'm insane.

And by mentioning and understanding that I am, I am not. A paradox, yes, but no insane man has ever acknowledged his insanity.

Anyway, on to the ramble.

Valentine's day is in 6 days, oh joy, oh joy, people in love expressing their love for each other.
Don't get me wrong, I love Valentine's Day, it's just I'm in the midst of quite a conflict.

It's kind of impossible, or rather, extremely improbable for my Valentine's wish to come true.
And I'll leave it at that. I've never been one for specificity in my ramblings, so I'm going to be as vague as possible.
Someone I hold very dear to myself is near unattainable, and worst of all, does not know of my inner torture.
Letting her know is not an option, as I don't dare to tarnish the wonderful friendship I have with her.

Yet she is my only 11:11 wish, every time.

"The amount of longing for his happiness grows with each mile put behind, and the winter's frigid wind etches a tattoo of her name across his heart and mind."

Welcome, one and all!

Hey!

Well, seeing as I'm not entirely certain as to who it is I'm addressing, a generalized hello is really all I can give.




It sounds very silly, but I've no one left to talk to but myself at this point.

Typing to myself with the very small possibility that others may in fact see my words, seems less neurotic than having a full-on conversation with myself.

I've run out of things to be happy about.
It may seem like a dramatization, but it's so very true.

Fleeting happiness is not enough to keep a human being sustained; there needs to be some sort of assured excitement, and every sort of happiness I've felt lately is transient.

Is it too much to ask for a bit of stability, that something I've held familiar for so long can stay familiar? The way the world works, obviously not. I've been through some change, but it is not until now that I realize how difficult it is to change.

Along with the new Presidency, I know things are going to change.

But on a personal level, why can't things remain familiar?
It seems like all that I know is slipping away...