Die Wörter von Wolf

Life

2011-03-01T02:24:00.000-05:00

It's like this.

There Are Bags Under Those Eyes

2011-02-24T04:40:00.001-05:00

I wonder if anyone else sleeps as little as I do. Three to four hours per day this week on average. A few days without any.

Not True

2011-02-22T18:15:00.003-05:00

People say, "Life has a way of working out."

I say, "The above statement is bullshit."

Okkusenman

2010-07-05T16:46:00.004-04:00

Had to post this song.. There's so much truth in it.

I'm so old already.

Absent From the External World

2010-06-07T23:08:00.003-04:00

It had been a while since I had gone outside.

I went to eat pho.. And a waiter befriended me. It was rather unusual, and he questioned me about the modifications of my phone, and eventually asked my name.

For a moment, I didn't remember.. I have been using my online name to converse with people for weeks.

Embarrassing.

Not Me

2010-06-01T02:38:00.004-04:00

She was in one of my classes. We didn't talk often, but.. Twice a week at least. She was nice to me. I was nice to her.

Now, we talk once a week, if even that.

I can tell she's down, but I can't tell her that I want to be there for her.

Why?

She doesn't want me to be there for her.

That's how it goes.

When ?

2010-04-27T01:00:00.004-04:00

I wonder when I will be able to feel that innate sense of happiness again. To look beyond the mundaneness of everyday life. To wake up feeling excited to be alive. To look forward to something, rather than looking back. I wonder.

Maybe it's part of becoming an adult. Or perhaps I morphed my world this way.

Choices Regrettable

2010-04-12T03:35:00.004-04:00

I find myself sitting in front of three computer monitors. Each one has different information about the research paper I am writing. It is due in approximately eight hours. The cursor blinks and I stare at it. My music plays. Each song seems to bring about a certain memory.

Should I regret the choices that I made ? It's not as if I was forced into the choices. I made the choices that I thought were best at the time. Is it even possible to make a choice that doesn't seem best ?

I had everything I could have ever wanted. Everything was in the palm of my hand, until I let it slip away. I found it again, and let it slip. I want to stop trying to win it all; I want to get my old life back. Unfortunately, time only flows in one direction.

The song I'm playing right now reminds me of times I had in the past that were wonderful, and it makes me really miss them. Thoughts of "If I only had.." or "If only I didn't..." go through my mind. I wonder if I could have my friends back. I wonder if I could be in a different state. I wonder if I would be with someone who really listens to what I have to say and cares about it. I could sit for hours thinking about what might have been if I had made better choices. But how was I supposed to know, then ? I made the choices that I thought, then, were the best ones to make. I wish I realised how things would turn out. I thought everything would work out in the end. Back then, it seemed like there was no other way.

Do I blame myself ?

The cursor blinks. I have more to write.

I stop thinking about things that I want. I do what I have to do.

Fucking Up

2010-04-08T04:03:00.005-04:00

Everyone does. There is this moment where one utters aloud or within the mind words such as "Shit", or "Fuck" and immediately tries to reason how to repair the situation. Usually adrenaline is released and somehow the person who has made the mistake is able to correct it to a certain extent. Either minimising the damage or gaining forgiveness are the desired goals.

Sometimes it is not that simple. Sometimes individuals make errors repeatedly or for extended periods of time without knowing it. It then becomes too late to do anything about it. For example, when a student repeatedly misses assignments that they do not know about, he or she has made a painful error. After a few months, it is impossible to ask an instructor for an extension or an alternate assignment. The student looks irresponsible and the damage is irreparable.

There is another variation. Sometimes it is extremely difficult to decide how to rectify certain errors. Sometimes personal benefit gets in the way of doing what is right and makes decisions nearly impossible to make. The mind generates excuses that make the one responsible for erring feel that perhaps they are in the right. It is only later that the one erring realises that they are actually doing something wrong, perhaps even something horrible. The mind blinds them.

I tend to make the third type of mistakes. I am always unsure of my moral obligations. They change from time to time. What does not change is that I am egocentric. I always do what I feel is best for me. But I am rarely certain what is best for me. I have to ask myself, "Does making her happy instead of me being happy cancel out the unhappiness that I feel as a result of my decision ?" I feel happy when she is happy, but I feel unhappy inside at the same time. My feelings are split.

Weeks later, my feelings are no longer split. But it is too late. I have lost a friend. And she will not take me as a friend again. Never. More than once has this happened.

I fuck up.

Tripping on the Guilt

2010-04-07T03:26:00.005-04:00

Dear U425,

I was not sure of the decision I made. Do I regret it ? I have no idea.

I don't like how things turned out, but I didn't like them before. Neither did you. That's why we are in this predicament. I miss you. I know you miss me.

Please don't try to make me feel guilty about what I have done. I feel guilty enough already. Every single day.

I ask for your friendship. Will you honour my request ?

Sincerely,

Mr. Wolf

Sensing Fabricated Reality

2010-04-05T12:23:00.003-04:00

I walked down the stone hall in the basement. I was going to meet some acquaintances at a party. The hallway seemed very long for some reason. After a time, it seemed as if I had been walking down it for twenty or more minutes without going anywhere.

My phone rang. Expecting someone to ask why I had not yet arrived, I was shocked to find that the call was from 1259. Thoughts flew through my head.

Should I answer ? If I answer here, service might be terrible. I'm underground in stone. I don't want to mess up my one chance to talk to 1259... But, if I ignore it for now, it'll bother me for the rest of the night. I have to take it.

"Hello ?"

"Hello."

"Surprising to see a call from you... What's up ?"

"You called me before... And, I wanted to know why."

"Well, I wanted to talk to you."

"Why ?"

"I miss you. I want to ask about your life. I want to tell you about mine. I want to be friends again. You know that."

"Well, let's talk."

At that very moment, something inside of me reached out to my consciousness. I knew this scene. It was not real. It couldn't be real. I felt a painful sensation in my forehead.

Then I awoke in my bed. I was right. It was fake. A dream.

This is the first step in combating these false images that are projected onto my sleeping mind.

This folder cannot be deleted.

2010-03-21T19:12:00.004-04:00

My memories are files. I have them all perfectly organised. From birth to now, hardly any of them are missing. I remember almost everything very vividly. Memories are important to me.

But there is one folder that keeps opening images when I don't want it to. While I sit quietly, and my music plays, images come into my view. I try to make them go away, but they don't. Later, I sleep.. And from this folder comes fabricated realities. I walk around in them, seeing memories and reality morphed into what my subconscious mind desires. I see everything that I can't have. And, I see you, 1259. You talk to me. You hug me. You miss me.

I wake up and I am back in the real world. The reality hurts, but the images go away when I force them away. However, they return in time. So I make a choice. I'm going to delete the folder once and for all. I will miss everything inside of it, but it only brings me pain and confusion.

I highlight the folder and attempt to delete it. There is an error. "This folder cannot be deleted because it is currently in use." I try to forget everything and remove all of the images and thoughts from my mind. I try to delete again. It cannot be deleted.

I think, "Perhaps I will call her. It will give me a reminder. A reminder of what reality is."

So I call her. I hear her usual, familiar "Hello ?" I reply with a "Hi." She asks who it is. The second my name is uttered, she hangs up the phone.

"Right," I think to myself, "She hates me. That's how it is."

Why ? I don't know.

No Ideas

2010-03-19T21:48:00.003-04:00

I have no idea what to do with myself. Everything I used to care so much about is now only mediocre. No idea why.

And some people I used to care about have no idea I exist. And I have no idea how much some people care about me. That is what people keep telling me.

I really miss someone... She will read this, most likely. But she does not miss me. And I wonder if she ever will. I wonder if I'll ever see her again.

Or if finally they'll fall out of my head. Forever. I won't dream of them anymore. I won't long for them anymore.

And I'll be with someone walking somewhere... And they will ask, "Don't you know that girl ?"

And I'll answer, "No idea."

Record Breaker

2010-03-18T03:07:00.006-04:00

I ran today. For... Probably about twenty-five minutes. Lack of exercise has really gotten to me. I tried to run quickly, like my roommate. I could not keep up with him after about ten minutes. I feel like I must have physically deteriorated significantly... It shattered my mental image of myself and my stamina, lung capacity, etcetera. I never thought I would sink this low.

In other news:

-Wolf Schröder-[3:04 AM] Okay

-Wolf Schröder-[3:04 AM] !!

-Romi Park-[3:05 AM] haha hey.. i think this is the first time you have ever used double exclamation marks

-Romi Park-[3:05 AM] congrats

-Romi Park-[3:06 AM] lol

-Wolf Schröder-[3:06 AM] Thanks !!! Hahaha

-Romi Park-[3:06 AM] whoaa

-Romi Park-[3:06 AM] so much enthusiasm

-Wolf Schröder-[3:06 AM] Yeah I'm breaking records all over the place

-Romi Park-[3:06 AM] yeah better write this in your blog

-Wolf Schröder-[[3:07 AM] Logging into blog right now

-Romi Park-[3:09 AM] hahahaha

Travelling The World With You

2010-02-24T03:59:00.003-05:00

Wouldn't it be great if I could travel the world with you ?

But you're so busy. You don't even know I exist. You're famous. I'm sure thousands of people, just like me, wish they could travel with you.

I want to take pictures like you do. I want to share a view of the world through a camera lens like only you can.

You don't know my name, and you probably never notice me. But I notice you and your photos.

And I wish I could travel the world with you.

Something Missing

2010-02-22T02:31:00.001-05:00

I cannot think the way that I used to. Something has gone wrong in my mind.

I cannot help but wonder if there is something I am not considering...

Perhaps, something that I am missing...

Dying

2010-02-16T03:45:00.001-05:00

My head is spinning. It's nearly four o'clock in the morning. I cannot think straight. I cannot do my work. I cannot sleep. This is not unusual. This is my normal night.

Recently, each choice that I have had to make has felt so monumental yet monstrous. Sometimes I find myself deeply regretting a choice immediately after making it. Unfortunately, it is usually too late to undo my mistakes. However, when there is a chance to make the the choice again, I usually choose the opposite option. Regrettably, afterwards, I want to go back once more. Some choices are better left without a second option.

Why are my choices becoming so important ? Because I have suddenly realised that my life is very finite. The first two decades of my life are coming to an abrupt close. There is not much more time for relaxing or fun. It becomes more difficult to live with each day that goes by. That realisation often persuades me to make choices that benefit me before anyone else. Is there much wrong with that ? This is my life. And with every passing day, I feel as if I am closer to my death. Perhaps I am predicting an early death, but such superstitious thinking is ridiculous.

There are so many things I want to do, yet so many things that I must do. They hold me back. I want more time. I want unlimited time.

But I am dying.

Reminiscent Winter

2010-02-10T05:07:00.000-05:00

Today was the first day in a chain of many days forecast to be cold here. This weather excites me. It restores my mind. I am able to think more clearly. My mind explores in all directions. Tomorrow I will spend quadruple the time outside that I spent today. I look forward to that.

This return of cold has motivated me in my school work. I have done more work ahead of time than ever before, and have always met my goals.

Winter does, however, stir up quite a few memories. They are pleasant memories; they remind me of better times. The past two winters were spent relaxed with little responsibility. I remember spending time with with family and friends, having romantic moments, experiencing wondrous things for the first time...

Now I walk from place to place with my headphones blasting Electronic J-Pop or Trance, trying to forget. The voices of Perfume calm me and motivate me to keep walking forward. I continue to try to avoid looking back. But sometimes the music shuffles to old music. Music from 2007 or 2008. I find myself becoming extremely excited, listening to old tunes as the winter air chills my face and the icy wind blows my hair in front of my face. I think to myself, "This is perfect. This is the carefree feeling I've longed for."

But it does not last. The heartbreaking realisation that my life is no longer the blithe, relaxed one that I remember hurts me. I do not walk carefree. I do not wake up with a purpose. There are so many responsibilities. Romance is gone. Family is gone. Writing is [practically] gone. People are leaving my side left and right. Either by hatred or their own responsibilities, they leave.

But the old music is nice. I force a smile as I cross the street. The mass of people in front of me must be feeling similar thoughts. I wonder if they reminisce about their past winters without responsibilites. As I reach the sidewalk, my music shuffles to Electronica and I continue walking. Those are nice memories. But this is my new world.

Another One Down

2010-02-10T01:44:00.003-05:00

Dear Jade,

I will have you know that the USB flash drive that you gave me so kindly in better days has been used to its fullest potential. I used it so much and so often that it suffered from heat damage. Parts inside melted and made the device inoperable. I have tried to recover it, even with the assistance of friends who are very familiar with the inner workings of such drives. Sadly, it is now useless. I do appreciate you giving it to me, however. I will miss it, as I miss you.

Sincerely,

Wolf Schröder

Your Love Is On My Mind

2010-01-31T02:10:00.006-05:00

Rather, the love from back then...

Back when I listened to this song and thought of you.

The world was mine.

"Elisir" by Gigi D'Agostino

Further Thinking

2010-01-27T06:27:00.002-05:00

Arguing with my roommate for four hours about different fundamental differences in how we view the world has made me realise several things about myself.

The most important of these realisations is that I have no plan. I do not have a path. I just do what is necessary to move forward. But where am I going ? Do I have a plan at all ?

No.

Vanishing Cold

2010-01-20T02:03:00.004-05:00

January is not over yet, but it is already becoming warm outside. I miss the cold already. When I walk down the streets in the cold, I feel happier. I like the cold air on the parts of my skin that are exposed. I like to breathe the cold into my lungs.

In the cold, I feel alive. Like I did before.

Unfounded Rage

2010-01-17T22:14:00.005-05:00

Last night, I went to purchase groceries from a WalMart near my university. It is a pitiful WalMart, often out of stock in items I need. However, it is the WalMart that is closest to me, and the prices are worth my trip.

I pulled into the parking lot as usual, but tried to park as close as possible. Usually I don't concern myself with the distance, but I was in a rush to get back to my room. The available parking spot was close to a large white pickup truck. The driver had done a poor job of parking, and he was slightly over the line. I thought for a moment as to whether or not this would be worth doing. Since there were no closer spots, I took it upon myself to squeeze into it. When I opened my door to exit the car, I made sure that my door did not touch the side of the truck. This was no easy task, but I was able to do it. As I walked past the truck, I looked at the side of it. It looked very damaged and scratched up, as if the truck had collided with another vehicle sometime in the past. I remember thinking to myself, "If I bumped it, I don't think anyone would even notice."

When I returned with my groceries, the family of the driver was loading theirs into the back of the truck. There was a young boy in the back, probably six or seven years old, putting the last few bags inside. I opened my trunk and loaded mine as well. I noticed that an older woman was standing behind my car. I wondered why, until I realised that she must have been waiting for the driver to back out so that she would not hit my car door with hers. I put my shopping cart away and walked back to stand beside her as the man backed out the truck. I smiled at her, but she did not make eye contact with me. I thought nothing of it. After the truck had moved, I got into my seat and grabbed my iPod, setting up the playlist for my drive back.

I looked up a moment later, surprised that the truck still had not completely left. I was frustrated because I wanted to get out of there. I noticed someone was standing outside the truck, looking at the side of it, or perhaps underneath. He was somewhat large and muscular, but had a bit of a gut on him. He had a large goatee and glasses. I sighed and looked back down at my music player. There was a banging at the side of my door. The driver of the truck was punching the side of my car. He motioned for me to put my window down, so I did.

"Hey man," he started, "I saw the shit you did."

"What are you talking about ?" I replied.

"You don't know who you're fucking with. I pulled your tag."

"What do you mean ?"

"Your license plate, dumbass. I got the numbers. I have connections around here. You don't know who you're messing with."

"I swear, I didn't touch your --"

"Don't give me your shit. I know what you fucking did. You better watch your back. You're going to get shot, you hear ? Don't fuck with the wrong people. I'm just saying, idiot."

"Look, I didn't--"

"You're lucky I'm with my family, or I'd fuck you up. I'd rip you apart. You're so fucking lucky."

With that, he punched the side of my car again as I put my window back up. He walked off and sped away as soon as he reached his truck.

I was extremely angry. I wanted to do something about it, but could do nothing. I felt helpless and frustrated. I regretted not standing up for myself better. I wondered if I should have engaged with him. Many irrational thoughts went through my head. I imagined myself fighting him, who had probably no training whatsoever. I wanted to knock him to the ground, knock his glasses off his face and smash them, and finish by kicking him right in the face. I would tell him, "I didn't touch your truck, sir" as I walked away.

Those thoughts were immature. But they went through my head. Perhaps those same thoughts were going through his head when he thought that I did something to his truck. Anger is a powerful thing.

Regardless, I'll "watch my back".

Good Morning, World

2010-01-11T03:00:00.002-05:00

Good morning, World. Today I will take a step backwards while moving forward.

Thank you for the inspiration, Jade.

From Muck to Luck

2009-12-25T22:04:00.005-05:00

I could not sleep last night. My sister and I talked late into the night, until she fell asleep. I had my laptop, which allowed me to channel my feelings into yesterday's blog post. But my feelings were that way. I fell asleep around 0730, only to wake up two hours later.

I did not receive the gifts that I had listed for my parents to give me. I am too old to care about getting gifts from a "Christmas List" that my parents have me write yearly. But I do care, because it is a family tradition and everyone else participates in it. So it was somewhat painful to watch others receive the gifts they asked for while I received only one gift that I had asked for. That left me feeling disappointed. My parents did not give me money, either, which was unusual. I felt down about it. In addition, I felt pathetic to know that I was being disappointed by Christmas gifts. How childish.

Things started looking up later in the day when I discovered that my father had slipped a one hundred dollar bill into my pocket. That made me feel significantly better. I was still feeling somewhat down until it was time for the "adult gift exchange".

(The "adult gift exchange" is not an exchanging of adult novelty items, but rather a game played by the adults with similar rules to the White Elephant Gift Exchange played by many in the US. The name my family uses is "adult gift exchange".)

The original rules for entering the exchange were that participants must be 21 years of age, since the gifts often involved alcohol. However, as my sister and I were the only two of many cousins to be underage, this year we were allowed to participate. So it was our first time playing. The rules were discussed briefly before we played. I asked, "Wait, doesn't an item become 'dead' after being stolen a certain amount of times ?" The others looked at me and started grumbling angrily, saying things like "You've never played before; don't come here making up rules and such". So I left it alone.

There were eighteen participants. Each person drew to see which number they were. The participants choose a random gift from a pile of gifts that each participant must purchase in order to join the gift swap. Number "1" gets to choose the first gift, but also has the ability to choose from any other person after the final person has made their choice. So each player either choose a new gift from the pile to open, or takes one from someone who has already opened (at which point, that person repeats their turn). I drew "2", which is the worst possible number to draw. You are only able to see one gift, and your pick is completely random from the pile. At least "1" can go back and choose from ALL, with them being known. I was frustrated because there were only two numbers left when I drew. "1" and "2". Oh well.

I chose a horrifyingly ugly wreath with a bottle of wine when it was my turn. I cannot drink wine legally, and I have no intention of drinking alcohol in the future, even when I am of age. I had no way of knowing what was in the box. At that point, I felt like I had lost completely. No one was going to take my gift, and I would have no opportunity to take any later gifts that I preferred. I got my phone out and began chatting on MSN and AIM. I felt defeated and at that point, I was bored beyond belief. I stopped paying attention, until suddenly the boyfriend of one of my relatives said, "Well, if I take the wreath, I'll never have to worry about finding one of those again. Plus, I get a bottle of wine. Sounds good to me." And just like that, I was in the game again.

I spotted a picture frame that I noticed many were eying. I remembered someone saying something about one of the gifts being cash, so I looked around. Sure enough, I spotted a plastic box with cash in it in one of my uncle's hands. I wanted the cash, but I knew that some other people would be after that as well. I decided to take a high-value item. I took the picture frame. I sat down next to my mother who immediately said, "I would've thought that you would have taken the cash for sure." I thought to myself, "It's not about that. It's about planning." For a few more turns, I lost my item every time, but each time, I replaced it with another high-value item, based upon who would pick next. I ended up being stolen from almost every time. I ended up with the frame again, and I saw my sister looking at it with a strong attraction. I looked into her hands to discover that she had the cash. I saw it through the box. It appeared to be fifty dollars (which was the set limit for gifts). Suddenly, I had a perfect plan. I motioned to my sister to get out her Blackberry. I started texting out my plan:

"Tanner, I have a flawless plan. Since there are no dead gifts, we will create a perfect cycle. I know you want the frame, and I want the cash. If someone takes the frame from me, I will take your cash. You should then respond by taking the picture frame from them."

She replied:

"Oh, I get it! So if someone takes the frame from me, I'll take the cash back. Then you can get the frame back from them. It makes sense. We're sooo getting what we want."

Since both our items were highly valued by the participants, we dealt with a lot of switching. People figured out pretty quickly what we had planned. They began to get a bit angry, but could not say anything against it, especially since they had declared earlier that there were to be no 'dead gifts'. Eventually, everyone backed off, knowing that they could not stop our plan. I ended up with the cash, which was actually seventy dollars.

Afterwards, I felt like visiting my aunt (Technically ex-aunt; she and my uncle recently divorced. She lives next door to my grandmother's, where this gift-exchange was occurring). I hadn't spoken to her since arriving in South Carolina, and thought it would be nice to say "hello" and wish her a Merry Christmas. So I walked over.

She immediately started saying "I will pay you to fix my internet." I told her I would take a look. I went into her room and she said, "It says it needs to empty the cache." So I emptied her Internet Explorer's cache, then tried to open a webpage. The Internet worked. I had no idea why the cache had anything to do with it (I found out a few hours later that it had started working earlier in the day, but she had not touched it since then). She said "How much do you want ?" I told her that more than twenty dollars would be asking too much, and that she shouldn't pay me at all. However, before I could finish speaking, she had written me a cheque for thirty-five dollars. My income for the day was $205. She then told me, "You're free to use our Internet whenever you like. You fixed it, after all." I was glad of this, because I previously did not know if the divorce would make it uncomfortable for me to be in her house (I usually used her Internet when I visited).

My day started out bleak, but turned out fairly lucky and even a bit lucrative. I now use her Internet to blog and chat.

Again, happy holidays to all.

Two Years Ago

2009-12-25T04:33:00.000-05:00

Two years ago, I was texting someone who is no longer my friend about something. Something that I, then, thought was more important to me than Christmas. Turns out, Christmas ended up not being very important to me at all that year. What was important was that the girl I had taken a strong liking for had kept a secret from me. I told myself, "No matter what, we'll still be friends". We aren't, sadly.

Two years ago, I ordered this MacBook that sits in my lap while I type this post. Two years ago, I was so excited to be ordering it. It was the biggest deal in the world to me, and I don't even know why now. I remember thinking, "It's winter. I'm about to have a MacBook, and I'm in love with this girl, what else could I ask for ?" I was younger, then. But in many ways I was much more mature. How does maturity decrease over the years ? I wish I could answer that question. Now this MacBook sitting in my lap is no more exciting to me than any other ordinary laptop. Sure, it'd be hard to live without it, but it isn't exciting anymore. Nothing really is.

I had hopes and dreams and aspirations. I wanted to move to New York by now. I wanted to be going to New York University or a CUNY school. But I am studying in Georgia still. And not doing well enough to get out, either...

I had a very positive feeling about where I was going. I felt like my life was headed right where I wanted it to. It was the only time in my life when I felt that way. In fact, it may have been one of the happiest times of my life.

Today, I write this blog. It is 4 AM, and I do not feel hopeful. I do not feel happy. And I am not excited for Christmas. I feel worthless, and I feel I have no path to follow.

To everyone else:

Happy Holidays.

Where Credit Is Due

2009-12-12T15:36:00.003-05:00

In recent months, many have used my blog posts for assignments of various sorts. People have stolen them and used them as their own, or sometimes used them for reference or even turned them in as evidence to certain claims about blogging in general or tendencies of bloggers. This is happening mostly in classroom settings, especially in English classes.

Please, viewers of this blog, do not use these posts without my permission. And, when using them, give me credit. Do not steal these works as if they are your own.

No matter who you are, or if I even know you, I have no respect for those who steal others' writing and claim that it is their own. That is unacceptable.

Doll Friends

2009-12-04T18:56:00.003-05:00

Some people keep old dolls or stuffed animals in their closets or basements. Sometimes they are merely thrown into the closet without half a thought, or sometimes they are placed carefully into a box with handwritten labels. Sometimes they are in the closet, staring back. They are in plain sight.

Why are they in the closet ? Was it because they became boring ? It is because they are no longer socially acceptable ? Or is it perhaps because they serve as reminders of memories from the past that are unsettling ? Or was it that parents made the choice to box them away ?

I feel as if many of my old friends have boxed me away. It reminds me of classic Toy Story 2 when Woody is "shelved" because of his damages, with Andy's mother saying "Toys don't last forever." I know that friends do not necessarily last forever, either. Especially when friendships end because of conflicts over one particular large issue. Or when friendships end because one person has romantic feelings for another who does not feel the same way. Or when jealous boyfriends or girlfriends ban their partner from seeing a certain friend because they are of the opposite gender. Sometimes friends move away. Sometimes friends' parents no longer get along and do not prefer the friends to see each other. There are many many other reasons. Sometimes reasons are combined. But regardless, friends are "shelved".

I will admit that sometimes I have shelved old friends. I never contact them. Not because I dislike them, but because we have had a conflict, or because we have not talked in a very long time. I am nervous about contacting people I have not spoken to in a while. But when someone makes an effort to contact me, I respond. No matter who it is, or why they are contacting me, I respond. But the friends who have shelved me are not like that.

When I contact them, online, or by telephone.. They respond like dolls. No matter how I speak to them, or how long I speak to them, or how detailed my messages are... There is no reply.

No SIM Inserted

2009-11-13T01:55:00.002-05:00

"No SIM Card Installed". That is what it says.

What it means is:

"You may not call anyone, receive text messages, use a 3G or Edge network."

"You may not call your parents or friends to alert them of your lack of phone."

"You will be frustrated trying everything you can find over the internet on how to fix it, but it will not work."

"None of your friends know what to do, so they cannot help you."

"You will have to drive to the nearest AT&T store and hope that they will be happy to assist you."

PS- I have to find the AT&T store without using the Maps application on my phone.

Talking on the Phone in Another Reality

2009-10-21T00:35:00.002-04:00

Dear 1259:

The strangest thing happened today.

I called you and you answered. You were not enthusiastic to speak to me, as I expected. But you talked to me, regardless. Finally, I was able to get you to forgive me for making foolish choices that made you upset with me. Then our conversation continued brilliantly. You finally told me how your life was going. You asked me about mine. We exchanged sentences almost like.. The old days. We became engrossed in the conversation.

The next thing I knew... I was laying on my bed, staring at the wall. I was talking incoherently. I looked to my hand that was pressed to my ear. There was no phone in it. It was only a dream. This upset me as I realised that reality had struck once again. I went back to sleep in a saddened state.

I visited you. I spoke to you and you laughed. You became angry for some reason, and then you explained how you didn't like it when I called you pregnant. I retorted, "But I never said that !" These nonsensical arguments continued, but we were both in high spirits. Your smiling face was the most memorable thing. When it was time to leave, I drove home, smiling brightly.

After arriving at home, I suddenly did not remember if I had seen you. I frantically asked my family and friends what I had done that day. None of them seemed to know. I felt as if everyone knew and was keeping me in the dark. I was so unsure of myself. I felt like maybe I had imagined seeing you and that it never happened. There was only one way to find out. I returned to your house to find it completely empty. I called you but you did not answer. My mind swam as I tried to remember what had transpired.

Once again, I awoke to the real world. Reality. Nothing had happened. No wonderful visits. No phone call. I looked at my phone as I held it in my hand.

"This is real life," I said.

I called you, 1259. You did not answer. I left a voicemail. I hope that you will call me back.

I miss you, you know.

Sincerely,

Wolf Schröder

Error in Communication

2009-10-09T19:12:00.003-04:00

Sometimes, I do not communicate properly how I feel. Or what I want.

I know it confuses you, and I am sorry.

Please forgive me for saying things that I do not mean.

My mind has been cloudy recently and words cannot find their way.

High Hopes Crushed

2009-10-02T10:21:00.002-04:00

It makes me sad when something I was excited for is suddenly crushed. It always happens when something is "too good to be true".

The fact of the matter is that I never know when something is "too good to be true" until it ends up not happening. Or not being true.

I need to keep hoping. If I don't, I'll fall into darkness.

Sharing Some Zhang

2009-09-16T22:23:00.002-04:00

It's unusual for an artist to sing in a second language perfectly without hints of an accent. Utada Hikaru can do this fairly well, but Angela Zhang surprised me a few months ago when I found she can do it even better. I decided to share her song "Journey" which is sung in English. She sounds remarkably like Alanis Morissette, for those who are familiar with that American artist.

"Journey" -- http://up.ppy.sh/files/12journey.mp3

"寓言 (Yu Yan)" -- http://up.ppy.sh/files/(yuyan).mp3

I included a Chinese song so that her Chinese voice can be heard.

Let me know what you all think...

And whether or not you think she sounds like Alanis Morissette.

(http://up.ppy.sh/files/11thatiwouldbegood.m4a)

Walking to Class

2009-09-08T01:32:00.004-04:00

This is an assignment for my [pathetic] English course at my university. It was written in ten minutes. It was neither proofread nor edited. I decided to post it here, however.

Walking to Class

I approach the door to leave my apartment. I realise in that moment that I do not have my keys in my usual pocket. I fumble around all of my pockets to find that my keys are not on my person. Frustrated, I walk back into my room to retrieve my forgotten necessity. I retrace my steps to my door and lock it securely behind me. I attempt twice to twist the knob, verifying that it is indeed locked.

As I walk down my hallway to the elevator, I smell all of the breakfast foods that my neighbours are cooking. I wonder to myself, “Why is it that they have so much time to cook meals in the mornings? They must sleep earlier than I do. Or perhaps they have nothing better to do in the mornings than to prepare meals out of boredom.” I reach the elevator and am pleased by its response time. I step into the empty lift and pull my headphones out of my briefcase. As the elevator descends, I slide them over my ears and plug them into my iPod. There is a brief moment of complete silence as my noise-cancelling headphones block out the noises of the people around me as I step out of the elevator. As I walk out of the apartment complex, I press the play button. My artist of choice today is Utada Hikaru. Her music blares through my headphones and motivates me to take each step as I walk towards the General Classroom Building.

I am not surprised to see other students walking in the same direction as I am. Everyone, student or otherwise, appears to be headed in the same general direction. As I walk near or past others, I feel self-conscious about the volume of my music. I quickly reduce it until I am at a safe distance away from them. Everyone’s faces look as blank and dull as mine does. No one wants to go to class, work, or anywhere else for that matter. The panhandlers on the side of the road do not even look particularly enthused about their begging. It is simply too early in the morning. I press the Home button on my iPod to check the time. It reads 0913. I am going to be early for class.

As I approach the gates to the courtyard, I begin to smell the familiar odour of the smokers who aim to turn their lungs and the lungs of others around them black while enjoying simple, pleasurable puffs. As I squeeze through the gates, I try not to breathe very deeply as I dodge people and smoke while stumbling down the steps. I finally reach the bottom and feel relieved to have passed through the gate unscathed. I ignore the thousands of conversations that are occurring at one time in the courtyard while increasing my music’s volume. I am nearly to my classroom now.

As I enter the General Classroom Building, I realise that I have forgotten exactly which classroom I am learning in. I pull my phone out of my pocket to look at the image of my schedule that is saved. I read ‘329’ while walking up the stairs to the third floor. I find my classroom and see familiar faces waiting outside the door. The time is now 0922. My professor will arrive any moment now. I lean against the wall and continue to listen to some of my favourite tunes.

If I Were An Exchange Student In China

2009-08-27T01:40:00.006-04:00

I was sure she was Korean. She came in at the last moment every day with the same blank expression. An expression that never changed until Professor Kirschenbaum entered the room. He was never late. Nor was he early. Today was no exception. She smiled at him. Her face seemed as if to say "I am ready to learn today".

Professor Kirschenbaum reminded us students that today was the beginning of student-led discussion. He asked the group that was to lead discussion today if they would like to speak to him in the hallway to make sure the expectations were clear before presenting. The members stood up and started walking towards the door. The girl rose as well. I had forgotten she was leading the discussion today. She made her way towards the front of the classroom. One of the leaders-to-be whispered to her, "Hey, let's see what he says before we present." She looked a bit surprised, but smiled and went out into the hallway without a word.

They spent a great deal of time outside the classroom. I became bored sitting in my desk. I read the news that was available on my laptop while waiting. I realised that I was able to hear my professor speaking to the presenters outside. I decided that it was in my best interest to listen to him so that when it was my turn to present, I would be prepared. I could not hear all of what he said, but I heard him say "..understand you through your accent, you'll be fine. I mean, it's not that bad, anyway. Heh.." Right after that, they returned to the classroom and proceeded to go to the front of the room.

The girl I presumed to be Korean spoke first. She spoke very confidently and without faltering, but her accent was unmistakable. She was definitely Chinese. This was confirmed by her first few sentences. She explained, "I'm a foreign exchange student from China. I hope that you can understand me well and that I can lead this discussion in a very effective manner." She then began to elaborate on her discussion questions that she had prepared.

She made a few mistakes in her English, but she never truly faltered. Whenever she made a mistake, she calmly corrected it. Everything felt fluid. I felt myself drawn to answer her first question. As I spoke, my voice seemed so uncertain compared to hers. I stuttered a few times. She stared right at me as I answered her question. I found myself turning away and staring at the whiteboard to escape her piercing gaze. I began to realise something as she continued speaking after I had answered her question.

She continued to speak but I did not pay close attention to what she was saying. Instead, I took note of the confidence in her voice. I became jealous of how she handled the language. She spoke in a tone that was not condescending but one that held a strong authority. I wondered to myself, "How could she speak so confidently in front of this class ? She has never opened her mouth once before. I myself would be less confident than she is, even while speaking my first language in front of the class."

If I had learned Chinese in school and had gone to China to study, I would not have been so confident. Especially in a Chinese History class. This girl is in a US History course. If I were to lead a discussion in a second language, about a history that my classmates had much more extensive knowledge about, I would not have been able to do it. I would have asked special permission to do an alternate assignment or simply avoided leading discussion in general. Does that make me a coward ? Why do I lack confidence ?

There is something to learn here. I find myself wanting to challenge myself in the days to come. I want to become confident too. I want to speak without faltering. I desire these skills.

I am unable to ask her for help. I missed her name. I also lack the confidence to speak to her...

Moving Into the Commons

2009-08-15T09:16:00.004-04:00

I moved into Georgia State University's Commons yesterday. It was crowded and confusing. I expected it to be that way.

When I finally arrived in my room with my things, one of my roommates was inside. Two mutual friends are rooming with me and a fourth roommate I had not met was joining us. He was the one inside the room, along with four of his family members. They seemed nice. I joked around with them the entire time they were there. His grandmother thinks I am bordering insanity, I believe. We talked for a bit. But he went home. He will return tomorrow evening.

My parents made my bed and took my things out. In essence, they scattered them all over the floor. After they left, I set things up to my liking. It took quite a while to work out the power cables and ethernet. I still need two more phone cables to make my room complete. Also, I'm not certain how one inserts the ink cartridges...

Last night, my roommate who is staying with me this weekend (the other two remained at home) decided that we should go out for dinner. So we went. We walked around quite a bit and eventually decided to go to McDonalds. We ran into three interesting panhandlers.

First man:

Approached my roommate and I while I was retrieving something from my car. Claimed to be HIV positive and said he did not have long to live and that he had nothing to eat. He told us he needed money and he had "no addictions", and just needed food. We watched him walk into the gas station with the two dollars my roommate gave him. He bought chips. At least that's what he said he was going to buy.

Second man:

Gave us directions to several food places, including McDonalds. He gave us tons of information. As far as I could tell, he was pretty normal. He made me feel guilty when he told me he wanted two dollars. He didn't even have to say "I just helped you out, and you won't even give me a little change ?" for me to feel bad. I feel stupid for doing it, but I gave him two dollars.

Woman-man..thing:

While in McDonalds, I discussed with my roommate that this would not be happening any more. No more sharing money. Just after that, a woman came into McDonalds and came directly at my roommate first. She was asking for fifty-five cents. She claimed she needed to ride the bus. She could barely stand up, was dragging herself along the ground, and kept moaning and grumbling, "Can someone pleeeassee help me get on the busss.. I'm fif' four years ol', and I need'a get on the buss..." I told my roommate not to look at her. Eventually she was completely upon us, however. We did not have fifty-five cents to give her. My roommate said, "Sorry" and she smiled, showing us that about one in three teeth were missing from her mouth. She said, "Don't say sorry, boy.. I'm just asking you for help. God bless you for thinking of me. I'll juss'.. Ask someone else..." She wandered off to ask other people.

I came back to the room around 2200 and tested the ethernet cable on my PC. It worked fine and I am able to connect to Steam to play online games. The internet speed here is incredible. Currently 53.07 Mb/s. Before, I had about a fifth of that. Maybe even slower. I will thoroughly enjoy this. (Detailed report)

I slept early. That's a new [and weird] habit I have been trying to implement into my daily life.

Riding My Rear

2009-08-05T10:46:00.004-04:00

One of the few times I find myself laughing maniacally is when someone is driving me behind me very closely and I pretend they do not exist. These people think that if they are less than twelve inches behind my bumper, I will quickly accelerate. How wrong they are...

However, I refuse to yield to their demands. If someone wants to drive twenty or more miles over the speed limit, they should not drive behind me. For fear of being pulled over by Suwanee's Police force (which is massive and omniscient), I do not drive more than ten miles per hour over the speed limit. No one needs to drive that fast. If someone is late or in a hurry, that is not my responsibility. He or she should have left home earlier.

Needless to say, I did not feel bad when I left my house this morning to deal with one of these rushed people. When I pulled out of my neighbourhood, I checked to see if anyone was coming. I saw a car off in the distance, but pulled out anyway, since the car was far away. In a few seconds, that car was on top of me. He rode even closer to my rear bumper than most cars do. If I had to stop for any reason, he would have smashed into me on the spot, with no chance of not hitting me.

I responded in my classic form. I gradually started slowing down. I was going 45 miles per hour on a road with a current speed limit of 35 miles per hour. I slowly reached 30 miles per hour. I could see the driver behind me very clearly. He was shouting curse words and waving his hands about. I begin laughing. He pulled his vehicle over the yellow line a little bit so I could see him yelling more clearly. I heard muffled yells through my window as he stuck his head out of his to yell some more. At that point, my laughing was nearly hysterical.

When I reached the intersection, he turned in the opposite direction. Like all of these drivers, when he was able to pass me, he floored his gas pedal and made angry middle-finger gestures at me while speeding away.

Just a week ago, something similar happened. It had different results, however. That time, I was on a two-lane highway with much different speed limits than my small road outside of my neighbourhood. I was driving my mother's white suburban. This SUV's acceleration is horrendous and it's manoeuvrability is worse. The young girl who gave me grief was probably my age. She drove a white Mazda. Probably a 2008 model. I like white Mazdas. In another place and time, we might have been able to be friends. But not on I-75.

The highway was filled with eighteen-wheelers that day. Since the highway had only two lanes at this point, if one wanted to speed up and pass traffic, one would have to use some impressive driving skills and dodge giant trucks and small speedy cars all at the same time.

I was behind a truck and had a truck to my right as I was trying to move forward in traffic. Behind me was the young girl who really had somewhere to be. She would not get off of my back. I was not in a good mood, so when I was able to move forward and there was an open spot, I accelerated on purpose in the perfect intervals to block her from advancing. I would not let her get into the left lane and pass me. I used the giant trucks to block her and we played this game for quite a while. I could see her in her car, maintaining her cool. She had a determined face, different than the usual frustrations that I see, generally coupled with yelling and arm-waving. Finally, the two of us passed all of the trucks. It was just the two of us, about to engage in an all-out race. I was in the left lane and she was in the right. Both of us started accelerating. We were about even with each other. I could see her face clearly as she tried to pass me. Just as clearly as she could see mine.

Suddenly, I saw a motorcycle parked on the side of the road ahead. Realising what this meant, I immediately decelerated, removing my foot from the gas pedal and applying the brake. I looked over at the girl and saw a grin appear over her face. Just before she passed me, she pointed directly at me with her finger and said something. She appeared to be saying something like "Gotcha", but I'll never know for sure. She sped ahead of me and changed lanes. She didn't see the motorcycle. I knew what was about to happen.

The blue lights shined brightly as the policeman mounted his bike and began following that white Mazda. I saw her pull over and the policeman get off his bike to give her a speeding ticket. At her speed, I think that the ticket was very expensive. She might have even lost her license.

I laughed to myself for the remainder of my drive. I can still see her grin as she passed me. I wish I could see her face when she saw the blue lights. She should have been aware of her surroundings.

Don't ride my rear.

Flying By

2009-06-25T12:02:00.011-04:00

Right now, I sit in my office. My coworker is typing information into an Excel file frantically. During this moment, there is no work for me to do. I sit here, thinking. Pondering.

The iPhone next to my laptop vibrates. There is an SMS message. When did I get an iPhone ? Somehow, I cannot believe this has happened. Was it not a year ago that my mother's iPhone plunged into the depths of the Ashepoo River ? I watched as she replaced her phone for $400. I was jealous. I always wanted an iPhone. I knew, then, that I would never have the opportunity. I was wrong.

I wonder if I locked my car. I look outside at it. It is white, like I imagined my car would be. How was I able to get a car ? Was it not just a year ago that I wondered if I would ever be able to get my driver's license ? Worrying about having enough gas to go through my daily life is a challenge I never thought I would face.

My DS is not on my desk. I remember the days when I would bring it to the office to play when I was bored of doing monotonous work. I would put headphones and hope that no one noticed when I played for a few minutes, trying to get an S-rank in 押忍！闘え！応援団. I hoped that they would think I was listening to my music as I worked, as I often did. Was it not a year ago when 1259 showed me the R4 device ? Was it not only a year ago that I thought with my new DS I would have games to play forever ? My DS gathers dust on my bedside table at home.

It has been a while since 1259 has cared about talking to me. Just a year ago, I would be bored if 1259 was too busy call me or hang out with me. Now, there is no time for that. 1259 has responsibilities, as I do. In addition, I constantly have about three or four people who want to spend time with me. Who do I reject ? It is a challenge I never thought I would face. People wanting to see ME, of all people. Sometimes I bend the truth to save myself from others' frustration and disappointment.

My old friends had such a huge impact on my life. Sometimes I wonder if they know it. It was only a year ago that they drove me around and allowed me to experience a little bit of their world. I had real friends who really cared about me for the first time. New friends who changed the way I looked at the world. I thought they cared about me as much as I cared about them. I now think I was wrong. College is an excuse. Relationships are an excuse. Friendship goes beyond those boundaries. Even a small amount of contact would have been appreciated. I fear I have been forgotten. On days like today, I wish I could forget you. Remembering happy times only makes me sad knowing that those times continue for you and that you no longer wish for me to be a part of them.

I used to walk next door to my office to ask my mother what my family was having for dinner. There is no reason for that anymore. She does not prepare food for me. There is no 'we' anymore. Sometimes she makes food for the entire family, but disregards my distaste for certain foods. Sometimes I wonder if she does it on purpose. In conclusion, it is rare that my mother prepares a meal for me to eat. I buy my own. I also buy my own haircuts. My parents provide my bed and my internet. And, technically, my mother provides my job. I miss meals at home. I miss being driven to the local hair salon and watching my father pay for his haircut and mine. I am nineteen years old. I am supposed to pay. Just a year ago, that was not the case.

My Google Analytics information tells me that no one looks at my website any more. Perhaps four times a week, someone will. I ask myself sometimes if those are even real views or me accidentally clicking my bookmark to my site. I never check. I like the uncertainty as I hope that some friends still look. Why have my views dropped from an average of fifteen views per day to about half a view per day ? I will assume it is because I do not have time to update my website. What if no one cared about my updates in the first place ? Maybe my viewers have also become substantially busy. Regardless, I have made plans to make a full-scale update to the page and to purchase a domain for the site. However, the likelihood that this update will be made is slim. Plans are always made and rarely followed. Life is that way. Things come up. Things happen. I wish I had the time that I used to have. I wish I continued to update the site.

I never thought I would have, at any time before graduating college, $2000. With more money than I have ever had, I spend less than I ever have. I am worried all the time that something horrible will happen and I will need money to escape. Perhaps an automobile accident. Perhaps injury. Perhaps this laptop will suddenly cease to function. Money has become such a worry to me. It was just a year ago that I made twice as much a week as I do now, and spent as much of it as I could. Now I try to survive off of a terrible wage coupled with graduation gifts.

I see my work desktop screensaver is scrolling photos that my grandfather put on the computer. I see myself and my cousins, young and happy. Time flies by.

College starts in two months. I have no idea in which direction I am heading. Who knows where I will be one year from now ?

Everything is flying by.

That New Game

2009-06-09T11:31:00.003-04:00

The best part about getting addicted to a new game...

Is playing it all the time with your brother, working with him, succeeding with him, and laughing with him, whether he's home or not.

It's just like last time.

My Time To Be A Hero

2009-05-27T17:18:00.001-04:00

This time...

I jumped into bed and slept with all my strength and saved the world.

Wo ist meine Arbeitsethik ?

2009-05-01T01:54:00.003-04:00

Where did my work ethic go ? Last year I was extremely hard-working. I did all of my assignments and did most of them on time. Now, this is not the case at all.

I always plan to do my work now. But it does not actually get done. Perhaps it is because my work load this year is much larger. Perhaps it overwhelms me. Or perhaps I am lazier.

I just threw away some old school papers from last year. Diligent homework assignments. Completed with effort. Why do I not see work of that calibur as a senior ?

Where is my motivation ?

Unforgettable

2009-04-28T23:49:00.004-04:00

Unforgettable, that's what you are
Unforgettable, though near or far
Like a song of love that clings to me
How the thought of you does things to me
Never before has someone been more

Unforgettable, in every way
And forever more, that's how you'll stay
That's why, darling, it's incredible
That someone so unforgettable
Thinks that I am unforgettable too

Unforgettable, in every way
And forever more, that's how you'll stay
That's why, darling, it's incredible
That someone so unforgettable
Thinks that I am unforgettable too

--"Unforgettable" performed by Nat King Cole

Song file: http://up.ppy.sh/files/01unforgettable.mp3

When You Smash Things, They Break

2009-04-20T20:50:00.008-04:00

I was angry. Angrier than usual. I threw my phone at my hardwood floor as hard as I could. I hoped it would shatter into a thousand pieces, keys flying off of my catwalk onto the first floor below. I hoped that the display would be dislodged from the front of my phone and crack down the middle as it clacked against the floor, bouncing off of the wall.

Instead, the battery cover flew off of the phone and the battery popped out and fell down the stairs. No other damage was visible. The body of my phone was nowhere to be found. After searching for ten minutes, fuming, I found it. I muttered to myself angrily about how worthless the phone was as I replaced the battery. When the phone powered on after what seemed an eternity, it worked perfectly. My phone that had been broken for weeks suddenly worked as if new after being smashed against my hardwood floor.

Excited, I began to explore regions of my phone that had been untouched since it was broken, reading SMS messages and such...

The screen turned off. No buttons functioned. My phone returned to its broken state.

Wrong

2009-04-18T17:45:00.005-04:00

No, it is not chance. It is my fault.

Snake Eyes

2009-04-14T19:54:00.006-04:00

Lately all I can think about is how it seems that chance is hitting me hard.

I keep rolling dice with the same result.

Let Down

2009-03-28T10:40:00.016-04:00

I am the let down of the century.

I feel like there's always someone I cannot please, no matter how hard I try. I used to try harder to please the people I didn't particularly care for, but after discovering that pleasing everyone is impossible, I have tried less.

It hurts me when I hurt those who are closest to me when I cannot do for them what I promised to do. Sometimes I oversleep. Sometimes other things come up and I cannot do what I said. Sometimes I forget things. I feel like a failure.

It's really getting me down...

Edit: For some reason I cannot edit this font; I'm considering using a new font for future entries

Before the Gun Fires

2009-03-18T21:13:00.003-04:00

Sometimes I remember waiting for the gun to fire.

I trembled, terrified. The difference between me and the other seven runners was simple. I waited in fear while they waited in impatience. I never wanted the race to begin. I never wanted to wait in the cold in my running shorts.

The tension mounted when Mr. Starter said, "Let's have a good, clean race. Runners, on your marks..."

I was not ready. I would lose the race with an embarrassed, tired look upon my face. I did not want to charge down the track like a mindless animal. The crowd was watching. The whole crowd.

The worst part was when Mr. Starter said, "Get set..." Thousands of tiny thoughts surged through my head at that moment. I had one second to think and the only thought that shined through the others was, "There is no turning back".

After the loud crack, the only sound that I could hear was that of my strained breathing as I attempted to keep up with the other runners. The competitors.

When I placed last after crossing the finish line, I was happier than anyone else who had run the race. Not because I had accomplished something, but because it was over.

Dreams Dreams

2009-03-10T22:31:00.005-04:00

[Girl]
In a dream I can see
you are not far away
Anytime, anyplace
I can see your face
You're that special one
that I have been waiting for
and I hope you're looking for
someone like me

[Guy]
In my dreams
I can hear you calling me
In the night,
everything's so sweet
In your eyes
I feel there's so much inside

[Both]
In the night's dream delight;
I want to see you standing there
In the night's dream delight;
I've found someone who really cares
In the night's dream delight;
I want to see your smile again
In the night's dream delight;
You're the one I waited for

[Girl]
In a dream we can do
Everything we want to
There's no where I'd rather be
But here with you
The stars above light the way
Only for you and I
I'm so glad I've found the one
I've been looking for

[Girl]
Keep the dream
Of the one you're hoping for
Love can come through an open door
Just be strong
And you're sure to find the one,
the one, the one

[Both]
In the night's dream delight;
I want to see you standing there
In the night's dream delight;
I've found someone who really cares
In the night's dream delight;
I want to see your smile again
In the night's dream delight;
You're the one I waited for

--From NiGHTS into Dreams

Performed by: Cameron Earl Strother and Jasmine Ann Allen

Song file: http://up.ppy.sh/files/dreamsdreams.mp3
(Note that the lyrics I listed are not the complete song)

The Better Half

2009-03-04T16:36:00.003-05:00

I feel as if I'm falling apart. Physically.

Soreness envelops me. I have an infection and I fear that I may be developing a cold and a small cough. It is unusual for me to experience sickness. My immune system is usually perfect or near it.

On the bright side... I feel less tired these days, even though my sleep habits have been less than perfect for the past few nights.

Not only that, but I'm feeling extremely healthy emotionally. Perhaps I am not allowed to have the best of both worlds, but my heart is happy. I have the better half of my health.

Two Blisters

2009-02-11T00:26:00.002-05:00

Sometimes I think I'm the kind of person who discovers not to touch a hot stove by being burned by it twice.

I make the same mistake more than once. But I will learn. Please forgive my repeat offences.

Es tut mir leid.

Living In Japan

2009-02-05T20:09:00.005-05:00

For several months now, I have lived in Japan.

It is a nice place here. There are games everywhere. I see a Japanese flag on the wall in my room. My iPod Touch's language is Japanese. All of the music I hear is Japanese.

It seems like a paradise here... There is only one thing missing. School work. Why is it that while I live in Japan, I cannot finish my schoolwork ? Everyone else seems to. Everyone in other grades. But my classmates do not do their work either. Maybe that is why I cannot seem to do it. But my blame continues to rest on Japan and the video games.

Maybe Japan is not the place for me after all. Besides, I have recently been visiting Korea with a beautiful girl from there. I think I would much rather live in Korea with her. Not only because of her great personality or stunning looks, but because of the motivation she unknowingly gives me. Perhaps she does know. Regardless, I prefer her to video games any day.

I'm moving to Korea.

Waiting

2009-01-20T23:19:00.003-05:00

Did you know that it hurts when you don't seem to care ? It hurts when I sit waiting and wondering. The phone isn't ringing. Why not ?

You let me know something is wrong but do not give details. All I want to do is hear what is wrong. All I want to do is help. I sit there and stare at my phone, waiting and hoping. Why won't you communicate to me ? Do you know how much I care ? Do you know how I long to make you feel better ?

It hurts knowing something is wrong. And it hurts to know you cannot tell me why.

0%

2009-01-11T19:51:00.001-05:00

I can never make people happy. Never.

Enter 2009

2009-01-04T01:17:00.002-05:00

As I entered the January of 2009, I decided to leave the year 2008 behind. Bad habits and bad memories are at the top of the list.

There is one part, however, that I never plan to leave behind.

As she said, 2009 shall be wonderful.

1259, Do You Remember ?

2008-12-02T17:55:00.003-05:00

Why are you on my mind, 1259 ? I know you didn't choose to be. But I find myself thinking about you these days.

I wonder if you ever think about me. I highly doubt it. You have more important people and things to think about. But I wonder if I ever cross your mind. Or have you banished me from there ? I tried to do that to you. But you keep coming back.

Maybe it is because I remember this weather. I remember Titanic that was never watched. I remember playing with refrigerator doors. I remember the Hairy one making me a crusader. I remember using Endurance. I remember walking in the dark. I remember the zombies that were afraid of a light I carried in my pocket. I remember being a messy eater only when you were there.

I remember your cold hand. I remember your T-shirts. I remember cheap food. I remember Chinatown. I remember your long naps. I remember you sleeping through that sunset.

Today, I cannot stop remembering. I wonder if you remember at all.

Not Qualified

2008-10-23T22:54:00.002-04:00

I sit on my bed and look around me.

Directly in front of me, there is a White MacBook. I look at the screen. IRC chat is open and I see pages and pages of chat fly by. I ignore the temptation to enter it. Someone is attempting to pass me in ranking on osu! I ignore the temptation to play and prevent them. iTunes is playing Jpop music in the background. I move back to my web browser. It has a list of rules for the derivatives of trigonometric functions. I struggle to memorise them.

To the left of my MacBook sleeps my cat. She has her eyes closed peacefully. I envy her. I am exhausted. I want to sleep. But there is no sleeping tonight.

Surrounding me on my bed are seven pages of AP Calculus notes and practice problems. None of them make complete sense to me. But before 0500, they will. If not, I will fail my assessment tomorrow.

In addition to the notes, my book lays open with three incomplete assignments sticking out of the pages. Those must also be completed by tomorrow. Unfortunately, I do not currently have the understanding to complete them. I have quite a bit to do.

I struggle to concentrate. I become frustrated. Why did I choose this hard course ? It was a bad idea. I should have known my knowledge of Mathematics had never been strong. Everyone in the class has a better grade than I do. Everyone has a better understanding. Some of them sleep. Some of them talk and pass notes. No one pays as much attention as I do. No one takes as many notes. At least, that is what it seems.

I hear my sister burst into laughter downstairs. She is watching television with my father. She is enrolled in a far easier Mathematics course. She chose the course that suited her level of academics. She has no homework. She rarely does. When I was her age, I had five times the amount. Now, I have ten times the amount. This time my father laughs. I envy them. I want to enjoy my night. I want to play and amuse myself. But there is no time for that. There is only time for Calculus.

Calculus is just one example of my struggles. I have five other AP classes. I struggle varying amounts in each and every one of them. If I could tackle them one by one, I would excel. However, I cannot handle them all. Why did I attempt it ? I am not qualified.

It is time for me to continue my work. I have about six hours before I will go and pick up my girlfriend so that we may eat breakfast together. In six hours' time, I will learn everything. I must.

Rebirth

2008-09-05T16:43:00.000-04:00

Today, I smile.

I Have Lost It All

2008-08-18T20:47:00.002-04:00

The more I remember...

The harder it is to realise life will never be as pleasant. As free.

As happy.

The Masked Killers

2008-08-09T19:34:00.003-04:00

Britain and I sat in his basement. I watched him load his favourite pistol and mount the silencer. I was loading my gun and putting it into my briefcase when he said, "You know, when we kill her today, she'll be the two hundredth person we've killed..."
"That's right," I replied. "People say the town is getting crowded, but you know, I don't think so. Heh."
"Think about it though, that's a LOT of people. When you really think about how many people we've killed, two hundred is a lot."
"Yes it is. So you're sure she's going to be leaving the mall around four-thirty ?"

Britain had found Susan Parker's schedule for that Friday afternoon. She had a meeting to attend at 5 PM that was approximately twenty minutes away from the mall. The two of us concluded that she would leave the mall around 4:30 PM. I looked at her picture. She looked old and tired. Perhaps in her sixties. I looked at the other men and women whose names were crossed out on the list. I noticed that for the most part, they were all at least forty years of age. I joked to Britain, "Look, we're getting rid of the old part." He smirked.

He got up to leave and I stopped him. "Don't forget your mask. It's key." He mumbled something about hating the ugly, black, rubber masks that the two of us always wore when we killed someone. It felt like tradition. The masks were starting to get old, however, and did not appear that they would last much longer.

We arrived at the mall parking lot around 4 PM. He and I sat in the car and listened to his favourite music on his iPod. Around 4:45 PM, we grew impatient. The woman's car was parked two away from ours. We knew her license plate number and it was right there. After a bit of discussion, Britain and I decided to go inside. Killing people in public was something the two of us were not used to, but we were excited and nervous about it at the same time. Britain joked, "Even if we didn't kill her, she'd be late for her meeting." We laughed as we walked into the mall doors.

The two of us looked inconspicuous. I was wearing my normal clothes and carrying my briefcase, where my mask and gun were hidden. Britain was wearing a green, striped, hooded jacket, and his mask and gun were in his pockets. Both of which were a bit smaller than mine.

Our first goal was to find the woman. We walked around the large department store near the exit to the parking lot several times. Finally, I spotted her on the floor above. She was about to go downstairs. Instead of taking the elevator, she was taking the stairs in the corner that were in their own separate room for when the elevator was broken or for fire hazards, etcetera. Britain and I looked at each other in mutual understanding. Waiting for her on the bottom of the stairs would be an easy kill, and we could just walk out of the stairwell with our masks on and no one would ask questions until it was too late. We entered the bottom of the stairwell.

I pulled out my gun and mask and attempted to put it on. Britain had his on already and was looking at me struggle. Suddenly, my mask ripped while being put onto my head. Half of my face was exposed, but not my mouth. Before I could say anything, a woman up the stairs screamed. There were two middle-aged women and a man walking down the stairs. The woman who screamed had seen us. "Shit," Britain and I said in unison. As they tried to walk back up the stairs quickly, we opened fire on them. I killed the woman who screamed with one shot to the head and the other woman with one shot to the chest. Britain took four shots to kill the man, since he moved quickly and Britain missed his vitals several times. He screamed in pain.

"How'd you miss ? That silencer is useless if your victim screams loud enough for the whole mall to hear !" I shouted.
"Calm down. We'll just run out of here. They're all dead. No one alive saw your face. Just run out with your head down. Put your gun away first." He seemed so calm about it.

I looked back up the stairwell to make sure the three of them were dead, and I saw Susan stick her head around the corner, taking a peek at the two of us. Britain fired at her but missed completely and hit the wall. We heard her footsteps as she ran up the stairs unusually fast for someone her age.

"How the hell could you miss so much in one day ? What's wrong with you ? SHE SAW MY FACE !" I screamed louder than ever.
"Let's just go. Let's go now !" he yelled.

I looked down at the ground as we ran out of there. We ran all the way to our car and sped off.

The next thing I knew... I was looking up at a court. I looked to the right and saw my father with a disappointed look on his face. My mother was crying. My sister was nowhere to be seen.

Before I trial happened, I woke up. I thought I was in jail, but no... I was in Britain's basement. He came out of his room a few minutes later.

"How'd you sleep ?"

A Note For You

2008-07-23T08:57:00.003-04:00

Dearest 1259,

I μιυυ yoφ μoρε τθαν I μιυυ νoτευ oν Intense “Countdown” ανδ “Sekai wa Sore o Ai to”. Aνδ I μιυυ α λoτ.

I ψιυθ yoφ ψερε θερε...

A Day in a Parallel Universe

2008-07-14T04:27:00.003-04:00

It was a long day of work. Customers were rude and tiring for my entire shift. It seemed as if it would never end. But I drove home with my favourite music playing. I got out of my car, and I walked inside.

My family sat at their permanent place on the old, red couch in front of the television. It seemed as if they had never moved from that spot since the couch was bought six years ago. I usually stayed away from television, but I sat down to talk to them for a while. They are pleased when I spend time with them. Even if it was only for the half hour I sat with them to watch a film I neither knew about nor cared about in the slightest, it made them happy. No words were exchanged, but I was glad to make them feel good.

I went upstairs and I sat down at my computer. At that point, I was really home. I had access to the internet, and therefore, practically the entire planet. I also had a plethora of games at my disposal. I could entertain myself for hours. My Wii also sat less than six feet from my computer, allowing me easy access to even more gaming entertainment.

But what was more important was, now that I was home, I could talk to her. When I called her, it was nice to know she was excited to get my call. I knew if I did not call her soon, she would have called me. We made plans for the following weekend. Of course, I did not really want to do what she wanted to do, but she insisted, and I could not decline her offer to spend time with her.

Being home was not all bliss, however. I had homework in four of my advanced placement courses. A test the following day, along with a quiz. I also had thirty practice problems for Mathematics and I needed to start a draft for my persuasive essay. I got off of the computer and off of the phone. I worked hard for three hours and finished my work. I prepared my school bag and clothes for the following day. Once I had finished that, I exercised for half an hour. I did not want to become out of shape. I then proceeded to brush my teeth and call her.

We only talked for twenty minutes. I needed to get rest for my assessments the following day. She had none, fortunately for her, but she did not want to talk for very long anyway, so we hung up and I went to sleep. I slept peacefully, with minimal stress. My clock read 2330. I always slept before midnight.

I awoke the following morning at 0600 for school. I prepared to leave rather quickly, as I did every morning, but I had a little extra time this morning. I made a breakfast for her, my sister, and me. I drove my sister to school and listened to her problems and made an effort to give her my advice. She did not use my advice, and she never did, but I felt good inside knowing that I had given it.

When I arrived in the school's parking lot, I got out of the car, stretched, and began to walk towards the school.

"It is great to be alive," I thought.

No More Masks

2008-07-09T01:21:00.004-04:00

It seems that people never want to tell me the whole truth. Usually, they are attempting to make me feel better. Ignorance is bliss, correct ?

No. I disagree. I want to know everything. It is the worst feeling in the world to discover a hidden truth. It is not right to hide something from someone, even if it is to protect them. That is how I feel. I feel foolish when I think I know something, but in reality I am completely wrong.

My friends hide the truth. My parents hide the truth. Acquaintances hide the truth.

Starting with today, the ninth of July, I will never again hide the truth from anyone. I wish others would do the same for me.

Unsatisfied With My Face

2008-07-03T02:47:00.002-04:00

Our eyes met for a moment as I walked down the stairs.

"Why don't you ever smile ?" she asked.
"..." I could not reply.
"Really, why not ? You never do. You're always unhappy."
"I cannot answer that, Alex."
"Ugh... You're rude too."

Am I ? Should I smile ?

The Package Is Not Here

2008-06-27T01:22:00.002-04:00

I am once again reminded of Camp Mikell. The year this time is not one particular year. This happened to me each and every summer.

Every day at Mikell, campers are given canteen. During this time, each cabin is called and the entire cabin gets up from sitting with their friends and go inside of the Old Dining Hall. Within, sodas and chocolates and various other snacks are placed upon a table for campers to take and consume outside. Snacks are not the only things inside that room, however. On a long bench, packages and letters are placed for the campers whose families, girlfriends and boyfriends, and best friends felt the need to send them a message or a collection of gifts.

I would always walk down the bench and check for my name. I would see other campers' names. People I knew. Some people would get three packages in a day and would be able to go back outside and share all of their goodies with their friends. Most people got a letter or a package eventually. They would always say, "Oh, it finally came. My mother promised she'd send one this year... Wow, look what I got !" My cousins that attended camp with me usually got one. My sister usually got one.

I would always walk down that bench, hoping to see a package. But it would never be there. I would even look on Sundays, when there is obviously no mail. I would see everyone else's name eventually. But I would not see mine. I knew, every time I walked down the bench, that it would not be there. But I suppose there was enough hope inside of me to make me keep looking.

I never want to stop hoping.

The State of Things

2008-06-26T00:52:00.002-04:00

You jumped into bed and slept with all your strength and saved the world.

But I, I cannot sleep. There is only pain.

Why Not Me ?

2008-06-17T05:03:00.002-04:00

I wish you would give me a chance. You have given him a million. How hard would it be to give me just one ? Then again, perhaps he is deserving of them. I deserve nothing. I only live to serve.

The Painful Choice

2008-06-08T23:29:00.002-04:00

It was another summer of the past. The year was 2005. I had not a care in the world. I did not even care about girls or the thought of being in a relationship. I had some difficulties in the past and decided that thinking about girls was a foolish thing to do.

I was once again at Camp Mikell. I met two girls. They were best friends. We spent the entire camp together. Somehow, I felt an attraction to both of them. I did not think either of them liked me. "Why would anyone, after all ?" was always my thought. I felt I had to make a decision if I were to pursue one of them, though. I was young. I was foolish. I did not think it mattered if I decided to pay more attention to one girl. After all, neither of them could have possibly liked me, so I thought.

The day of the dance, I spent more time with one girl and less with the other. At the dance, the girl I spent less time with refused to talk to me. She danced with me, but did so awkwardly. After dancing, she disappeared. Later that night, I was getting a drink of water from the fountain near the bathrooms. I heard her, inside of the girl's bathroom, crying. She cried all night. She would not talk to me. I tried to comfort her. She would not allow me. She kept her distance from me for the next and final day of the camp.

I dated the girl that I ended up choosing. But only for two months. After that, she found a guy she preferred, cheated, and then told me our relationship was over.

The Key That Rejected Me

2008-06-08T10:29:00.003-04:00

In the past, it felt as if my life had little meaning. I went through my days without nothing to look forward to. In fact, I did not even seek out friends or cared to. I assumed people didn't want to be.

It was if I was locked in a cell with myself, and I had no means or desire to get out.

Then a key dropped into the cell. I did not care much. But as I looked at it, it had a kind of personality. It was yellow, shiny, and bright. It looked so elegant. It felt as though the key and I belonged together. I began to feel the urge to use the key. I was ready to escape.

As I reached for it, it fell through a crack in the floor. Now I can only sit and watch as it rots beneath the floor. The shining object I loved did not want me. It would rather sink beneath the floor.

Uncertainty

2008-05-31T22:33:00.002-04:00

It is impossible to know how things will end. In recent times, I have found myself in despair because of the way things have fallen.

Nothing can be assumed. Hard work does not always yield success. Nor do perseverance, determination, love, or a strong will.

It is nearly impossible to interrupt the flow of people's lives. People resist change.

I will never again think that my best efforts will yield success. Sometimes my best is not enough.

The New Corrosion

2008-05-29T01:21:00.002-04:00

Πλεαυε μακε α γηoιγε. Θε ψιλλ δευτρoy με ζρoμ τθε ινυιδε.

I δo νoτ ψαντ τo hate.

Unable to Cry

2008-05-16T22:47:00.003-04:00

I never cry. In the past half of a decade, I only remember crying once.

I just want to cry. I have never been in so much pain in my entire life. I cannot let it out. It sits inside of me and eats me from the inside out. Every piece of happiness that I have ever felt is decaying.

I am dying inside, and I cannot cry. The tears will not come. They never come.

The Boy I Made Fun Of

2008-05-11T22:14:00.003-04:00

It was the summer after my sixth grade year. The year was 2003.

I was tired of people making fun of every little thing that I did. I was tired of people making fun of my hair, my teeth, and my glasses. I was tired of being teased about how I made perfect scores on my tests but was unable to enter the Gifted programme. I did not fit in with anyone else. I was alone, and I was a way to entertain students. I got rid of my glasses. And my personality. They were no longer going to hold me back.

I was at a camp in Tennessee. The camp's goal was to give various skills to students who were interested in unusual topics. I was taking a Meteorology class. So was he.

He was an annoying boy. He would not sit still. He asked ridiculous questions. He made the instructor repeat everything that he said. My time was being wasted. He would sit and make sketches in his notepad and miss what the instructor said about taking measurements. He would then bother the instructor, time after time. His drawings were not even any good. He sat near me. He had extremely pale skin, except for the skin around his eyes. He had giant bags under them, and they were very dark. He looked as if he were a raccoon who had not slept for a week.

I had not been made fun of in a few months. I suppose my subconscious mind thought that I had made some sort of advancement. I felt I was somehow now allowed to make fun of this boy. So I did.

After every stupid remark he made, I told him how stupid and foolish it was. I told him to pay attention rather than scribble in his notebook. He expressed fear of insects. I asked him, "Do they keep you awake at night ? I can tell you barely sleep. Look at your eyes." Soon, a few other students joined in this teasing. The boy was under constant attack for every mistake he made. But I always took it the furthest. When others decided to stop, I continued. The instructor noticed it was happening, but he never once said anything. He was annoyed with the boy too.

For the entire week, I would not cut him a break. He always tried to argue back, but it only caused further making fun of him due to his 'bad comebacks'. I never gave him a moment's peace.

On the last night I spent at the camp, when I was walking back to my camping site, I walked past him. He gave me a small look of disgust, but I could find nothing to say to him at the moment. I continued walking. I started to think. I remembered school. I remembered always being teased. People would never leave me alone. Suddenly, I realised what I had been doing. I had treated that boy the same way others had treated me. I felt horrible. I did not know what to do. At first, I turned around and started walking backwards on the path, trying to find the boy. I could not find him. After about ten minutes, I thought, "If I tried to talk to him, he would probably just ignore me anyway, thinking it was some sort of trick." I went back to my camp site and did not sleep much that night.

The following morning, before I left for home, I ran into him again. I forced him to listen to me. "I'm really sorry. I was so mean to you this week... And there's no reason for me to have been. You did nothing wrong. I just wanted to say I'm sorry." He looked at me for a few seconds, frowning, then walked away.

Four Properties of Choice

2008-05-06T00:04:00.002-04:00

-Everything is a choice

-Every choice is two choices: choosing to choose one thing and choosing to not choose the other

-The consequences of a choice are harder to deal with than the decision-making itself

-There is no such thing as a pure compromise; one party gets the short end of the stick

Involuntary

2008-05-04T13:46:00.003-04:00

I do things that I cannot explain. I think it makes people upset or annoyed. Or perhaps it terrifies them. Maybe a combination.

These things I cannot explain make me ashamed. I feel foolish afterwards. I knew it was wrong. But I did it. And if I had thought about it beforehand, I would have known it was not the right choice.

Perhaps it is the heat of the moment. I could blame hormones. I could blame anything. But blame would merely be an excuse for my weakness.

With Whom ?

2008-05-01T14:55:00.003-04:00

I sat down on my bus. Before I had a moment's peace, someone asked me.

"Are you going to prom ?"
"Yes."
"Really ? Who are you going with ?"
"A senior. You wouldn't know her."
"Oh, is it that girl that always comes in and talks to you during lunch ?"
"Yes."
"Aww, how cute. You two are always flirting ! Do you like her ?"
"...Yes."
"Does she like you ?"
"I really don't know..."
"I bet she does. You should ask her out."
"Who knows. Maybe I will."
"You should ask her on prom night !"
"Ha, we'll... We'll see about that."

Pseudomood

2008-04-22T11:27:00.002-04:00

Many people are curious as to why I rapidly changed my appearance and attitude during the 2006-2007 school year. To be honest, the reason I changed those attributes was because I was tired of being seen from the outside as something that I was not on the inside. My mood and feelings were depressing, and people did not realise, looking from the outside, what was really going on. So I changed. I was no longer the one to go to for jokes and an optimistic outlook.

I fear the same transformation might have to occur again.

Recently, I find myself in changing moods. I myself am not entirely sure what my mood really is at times. Moments ago, I found myself in a fairly good mood. Then, after a short walk, my mood became sour and depressed after thinking about some problems that I am experiencing. I became angry after the vending machine took my money without giving me a drink. I walked back into this classroom.

At this moment, I am indifferent about the issues that depressed me. I am not angry about the machine taking my money. It all feels so normal. Perhaps I am just numb to it all now. I suppose I am happy with that. If misfortune continues to befall me, and I am not very concerned or upset about it, what harm does that cause ?

I have always been one to want the truth in all situations, but... Sometimes, in recent situations, I have found that ignorance is bliss, absolutely.

Where Do I Stand ?

2008-04-19T18:19:00.003-04:00

I thought I knew what was happening. Things were unfolding just as they seemed that they would.

But things have changed. Things are not going down the path that they started to go down.

Where am I ? What am I worth ?

Where do I stand ?

Proclamation

2008-04-11T03:29:00.005-04:00

It happened. We spoke to each other about it. I was terrified. She was not at ease, either. But it happened.

Things turned out better for me in the end than I had thought they would. However, I have made her life difficult. Making things hard for her was never something I wanted to do. But I suppose it was something I knew that I would do. I mostly regret what I have caused, but the selfish side of me is glad that things are the way they are at this point. I am glad to be considered an option...

Some people say that waiting is the hardest part... I disagree. I can wait. No matter the outcome, her happiness is my priority. I will continue as I am now. I can hope that things swing in my favour, and, selfishly, I will hope that. But I also hope, more sincerely, that whatever happens, she will be happy.

Life is all about choices. Someone will always get hurt. Sometimes, moving forward and leaving someone where they do not want to be at the time can be good for them in the long run. I know what it feels like to be left behind... It is never easy. I can also say that it is equally difficult for the person who has to leave them.

I am sorry for what I have done and what I did not do. Please forgive my selfishness.

One Day That Summer

2008-04-01T15:06:00.004-04:00

It was the first summer I remember disliking. It was the summer of 2006.

She invited me to the theatre with her. Her friend was coming too, but I thought it would be a good opportunity to talk to her and work things out. She said the relationship was over, but she was so uncertain. There was a communication error. She decided she no longer wanted me to come but was unable to tell me this. I waited outside for half an hour, but she never came to pick me up.

I told my parents this. They told me to get over her. Things would never change. Things would never go back to the way they were. I told them I did not want to talk about it. My mother stopped me from going inside. She said there was something she would like to talk about instead. My worst fear. My house was sold. It had been for about a month. My parents lied to me and hid it from me. They had told my sister, but not me. My beloved house no longer belonged to me. Where would I live ?

Everything collapsed that day. I had given up all hope of a relationship rekindling. I was not going to have what I had before. I was not going to have a home to be happy to return to. I had just turned sixteen, and I felt the worst I had ever felt in my entire life. No matter how hard I tried to think of something happy or pleasant, it never was. The two dearest things to me were gone. I could not cry. I wanted to. But I never can. I sat in my room and stared at the ceiling as I burned inside.

That night we went to the supermarket. I took all the money I had saved for the future for when she and I would need it. I spend every cent of it on things that did not matter. Things I never touch these days. Things I have lost. I did not spend it because I wanted those things. I spent it to waste it. I wanted to erase it. So I did.

I wanted to enjoy the new things that I bought, but I could not. I knew it was all a waste of money. That night before I slept, I looked around my room, knowing that I would not be sleeping in it much longer.

I drove past my old house today, as I do every day. It sits there, lonely and empty. There is a beautiful white tree growing beside it. Its flowers are beginning to engulf the right side of the house. It is my hope those flowers will offset the broken windows and spray-painted 'KEEP OUT' that is boarded upon them. Maybe it will look nice for a while before it is destroyed.

Already

2008-03-29T23:10:00.002-04:00

Often I find myself sitting and thinking about how I would tell you. Or if I should tell you. Or when. Or why. It is such a hard decision. Everything hinges on that moment. My view of life could collapse. Will collapse. Inevitable failure plagues my mind as I struggle through these thoughts. Naturally, I never take action. I only think. So many times I have wanted to tell you...

I realised today that I have told you. I tell you every day.

The Table

2008-03-25T01:07:00.002-04:00

In this dream I found myself sitting at a long wooden table. To my left, she was there, as she always is. But on the opposite side of the table, about two seats down, it was him. I knew without looking at his face that it was him.

"Alex ?" I asked.
"That's right," he said.

There was long talk for half an hour or so. I was engaged, surprisingly. He was not as I thought he would be. Still I did not look at his face. He spoke with a kind tone that was too Pollyanna. It was apparent that he was hiding behind this conversation. He did not want me to see him as he really was. But I saw through. I always have. Every sentence he uttered did not seem real. Conversation slowed and she got up and walked over to him. I did not look at his face.

He stood up and they walked away as I sat alone at the wooden table. He was looking away from me and I was not looking towards him, but I felt a smirk come across his face.

They walked together out of the dream as I sat at the table, looking at the seven empty chairs.

Settling

2008-03-22T00:33:00.003-04:00

I need to stop thinking that I can get the things that I want most. I never will. It is not a good thing to fool myself into believing that I can. I need to lower my goals. My aspirations are wrong. I want things that I should not want.

I cannot believe I once thought of myself as very intelligent. I am not smart enough to get into the university that I want to attend. The girl of my dreams is already living her life for another guy. Knowing that, how could I call myself intelligent while I continue to pursue her ?

I need to stop reaching. I need to settle.

"Would you like to dance ?"

2008-03-14T20:50:00.002-04:00

I remember it as if it were yesterday.

I never liked dancing, then or now. I was much younger then, however. I was only twelve or thirteen. I sat in the Old Dining Hall where the dance was being held, looking out at the couples enjoying themselves. Even groups of friends or people dancing solo seemed to be having just as much fun. I thought to myself, "I could never enjoy that". I also knew I would never have the opportunity to dance with anyone. No one would ever want to dance with me. I sat and watched. The music was loud and the lights were bright.

Deep in thought, I did not even see her coming. She tapped me on the shoulder and I looked up and was surprised to see an attractive girl standing next to where I sat. She asked, "Would you like to dance ?" I sat there for a moment, looking at her, and a million different emotions and thoughts felt like they rushed up through my feet, through my stomach, and got caught in my chest. "Uh, I... I don't really like dancing. Sorry," was my reply. She asked if I was sure. I said I was and she accepted that and walked away.

I got up and went to the bathroom; I felt extremely sick. I looked at myself in the mirror, thought about my decision, and thought about the possibility that I could vomit due to all of the conflicting emotions. I wanted to dance, but I knew I could not. So I had to decline. That was my rationale. But as I looked at myself in the mirror, I convinced myself. "I'm going to go back out there and find her and dance with her," I thought.

I never saw her again.

Denial

2008-03-08T20:06:00.003-05:00

It is there, but I choose not to see it. I live each and every day as if it is never going to affect my life or come into contact with me. I want to forget it completely, and usually I am successful at that.

But sometimes I see it. It is then thrust into my face. I lose control. I cannot think straight. I want to shove it out of my mind and out of this world. I wish it away, but there it is, in the back of mind. It takes days for it to settle down. And it is not only time that makes it fade away, but distractions are also required. It is a rather frustrating, struggling, emotional period.

...I hate him, and he does not even know who I am.

010208

2008-02-25T15:49:00.008-05:00

1-16-18-9-12,

9 11-14-15-23 9-20 9-19 15-22-5-18 20-8-18-5-5 23-5-5-11-19 12-1-20-5, 2-21-20 9 23-9-12-12 20-5-12-12 25-15-21 14-15-23. 9 8-1-22-5 19-20-18-15-14-7 6-5-5-12-9-14-7-19 6-15-18 25-15-21. 9 23-9-19-8 25-15-21 6-5-12-20 20-8-5 19-1-13-5 23-1-25.

Sincerely,

19-20-5-5-12-25

Jumbled Ideas

2008-02-13T17:43:00.002-05:00

I want to write poetry. But there is not enough time in the day. There is only enough time for all the ideas to form but no time for the paper. If only the bell didn't have to ring.

Why is life all about those bells ? They ring every hour telling me when to stand up and move on. They tell me where to be. They tell me I am late. They tell me I am a mindless piece of the greater community just going through life.

Why is life the same for everyone ? Everyone goes to school and listens to those bells. The expectation is to graduate and go to college. After college, the next step is a career. That is where money is made and the last next leg of life is family. Most get married and have a family. Then that is a piece of the journey. Children, family life... Then they go and leave to do just what you have done. Then the next step is to attempt to find something to make you happy as you wait for your death. Why does everyone have to live this way ? Isn't there a loophole ? I try to tell myself there is, but unfortunately, there is not.

She doesn't get it. I'd feel bad about writing about her here, but she doesn't read these. I can't stop thinking about her. I would and do do anything I can for her. I try to let her know what I feel but I can never say it to her face. She already has someone. Why would I even be considered ? It is probably wrong of me to even consider having feelings for her. But I do. And I cannot control them. I wish she'd see.

Where were you ? Why did this have to happen so late ?

...I am such a coward.

Query:

2008-02-06T21:54:00.000-05:00

What is love ? Is it this immense feeling to be with someone, talk to them, assist them, do deeds for them, and give gifts to them ?

Can someone be in love with someone who is oblivious to it ?

If so, I am.

Effort Detrimental ?

2008-01-30T11:56:00.000-05:00

I have spent the past week or so doing more work than ever for school. I plan to make better grades this semester in order to correct past mistakes.

I do all of my homework now. I do it without procrastination. But still then I find myself awake at 0300, unfinished. Perhaps doing all work is impossible with my course rigour. Then again, my courses are manageable. I am not sure why homework is taking so long, but it is still a good feeling waking up after only two hours of sleep knowing it is all finished.

I need the grades. New York is calling.

Lyrics

2008-01-24T16:31:00.000-05:00

"...And we drive
Now that I have found someone
I'm feeling more alone
Than I ever have before..."

"Final Score is Thirteen, Twelve"

2008-01-15T23:57:00.000-05:00

Saturday's fencing tournament did not go as well as usual.

Pools were announced fairly early and I was to report to strip twelve. When I got there, I saw six other fencers, all of them looking at the horrible home-made scoring machine that Centennial had left us. (It malfunctioned half a dozen times, excluding causing fencers to trip over its non-retractable wire).

My pool was a bit tougher than my last two. I had a tall fencer to face, two French-grip users with excellent point control, one all-around good fencer, and two average ones.

The first fencer I recognised immediately. He was the first fencer I ever fenced back in my first tournament. He remembered me too. He beat me 5-3 and it was a good bout. I returned to the bench somewhat pleased but also somewhat disappointed with myself. The second fencer I fenced looked nervous from the beginning. I am always aggressive with those fencers. I was winning 4-0 but then he lunged for me and I slipped a little on my retreat. I winced as my groin muscles were stretched a little too far. He scored the touch. The bout finished 5-1. The next bout went quickly. The fencer stood there and did nothing so I beat his blade and hit him in the hand repeatedly for a 5-0 victory. The fourth fencer I fenced was very good at parrying (blocking my blade and attacks with his). I could not get past his blade, no matter how hard I tried. I only scored two touches on him, both were double touches. I lost 5-2. Then I fenced the tall boy. I tried to go for his arm but he was always right upon me before I could do anything. I lost to him 5-3. The sixth and final fencer lost to me 5-4 in an agonisingly slow bout.

My family and a friend of mine were somewhat impressed with that, merely because they didn't really understand what was going on... But I placed forty-third in the seeding that comes from how many touches I scored and how many were scored against me. Forty-third out of about 120. That does not sound awful, but consider that I made about twelfth last time. My seeds put me up against someone familiar...

I was set to fence Sebastian Sung in the first round of direct eliminations (DEs). He had fenced me in my pool already and had beaten me 5-2. He was the fencer whose parries I could not penetrate. (Reference: DE bouts go for three three-minute periods or until one fencer scores fifteen touches. In between the periods, there is a one minute rest). It was going to be a long bout, and I knew it.

The first few moments were agonising. I tried everything I could to get inside of his unbreakable defence. I started to become more conservative and attack less after realising it was going to be a real challenge to get inside. After a rough three minutes, the score was still tied at 2-2. I kept staying really far back for half of the second period and making a few risky complicated advances. They were not helping me. I was losing 7-4 when I reached my turning point. I thought to myself... My family and April came here to watch me. They took their Saturdays to watch me, and this is how I am going to repay them ? Losing like this ? I am not going to let them down. I must win.

I couldn't break through Sung's blade by conventional, elegant beats. I started hitting his blade hard. I came from the left, then from the right, then I even started hitting vertically upwards or downwards, as hard as I could, pushing him back. I scored three touches on him and the score was tied at seven. That burst moved me forward, but I was growing tired with every beat of his blade. How much longer can I keep this up ? He scored another touch on me and before I knew it, it was time for the second break. I was exhausted. I looked up at my family for a moment but soon looked away because I did not want them to see how tired I was.

As the third period started, I continued my violent beats and kept advancing on him, but I was getting sloppy. My vision was blurring a little. I couldn't stand up very well. And there he was... Standing there with his skilled parries just as he had been doing from the beginning. Every failed attempt to hit him made me angrier and angrier. Fortunately for me, this rage drove me to succeed, not to continue fumbling about. Perhaps it was adrenaline. Regardless, our scores stayed relatively close together until he got eleven. At that point, walking back to the starting point was a challenge. Holding my weapon properly became another impossibility. My hand was shaking. I kept trying. I had never felt a drive like this before in fencing or even in life. I was losing now at 11-13. I somehow heard my father yell "You're going to run out of time !". I then immediately asked the director for how much time was left.

"Uh... Twenty-six seconds remaining."

At that moment, I started thinking about running and track more than fencing. How much time is twenty-six seconds, anyway ? I just knew I had to rush. So the second the director said "Fencers ready, fence !" I ran forwards as fast as I could, parrying and beating like a madman. He lunged for me when I missed him, but I hid his blade really hard and countered, lunging into him. My blade bent so far when it plunged into his side that it looked like it would nearly break. He clenched his side for a moment, and I felt the need to apologise to him. The director did not give me time for that, and requested I return to my side immediately. Panting, I asked:

"How much time is left ?"
"Six seconds."

I felt like I was placed with an impossible situation. I looked at Sung, still clenching his side. I looked at my father, who sat there intensely watching. April looked a bit nervous. My grandmother was crying. It's possible, I thought. My arm burned. I moved it into proper position anyway.

When the director said "Fence", I ran forward faster than the last time and started beating his blade crazily, and he became afraid and rapidly retreated. But I hit him again hard in the leg, and heard the resounding beep I wanted to hear. I felt like tons of weight had been lifted from me. The score had now been tied. I would have another chance.

I walked closer to the director, thinking she would be taking the coin out of her pocket to determine which fencer would have priority in the next one-minute bout to break the tie. But she never did.

"What are you looking at me like that for ? I said 'HALT' due to time before you touched him. There is no coin flip for priority."

I had not heard her yell "HALT". I was too caught up in touching him. I was half a second too late in doing so.

"Final score is thirteen, twelve," she said.

Goodbye Georgia

2008-01-06T22:15:00.001-05:00

Today, due to events and circumstances I will not detail, I have made a decision.

I plan to go to college in New York, far from here and everyone that I know and have ever known. Going to college in Georgia will only be a last resort. I will apply to several colleges in New York and I will take what I can get.

I want out of here.

Impossible Situation

2008-01-01T20:36:00.000-05:00

What does one do when they fall for someone that is in love with someone else ?

What if one found out about that someone else by accident and has been ripped apart inside wondering what to do ?

Why would this someone else be hidden ?

What would one do about it ?

I wish I had an idea.

N/A

2007-12-24T22:07:00.001-05:00

This post has been deleted by request.

Disappointing Chill

2007-12-19T21:14:00.000-05:00

Ever since the weather began to warm last April, I had dreamt of the coming of the cold.

Life always seemed easier to deal with when it was cold outside. I could wear the clothes I liked to wear. I could feel cool air against my face when I walked outside, no matter what time it was. In the morning, I could see the shine of the frost on the grass. I loved crushing frozen puddles on my driveway, even if I slipped and fell in the process.

Unfortunately, as time went on... The cold seemed warmer every year. I always got more enjoyment out of winter with each passing year because I forced myself to feel that enjoyment over that shorter period of time. It felt more special. But this past spring, I could not wait for winter.

Now that it is nearing winter, and could weather, I could not be more unhappy. I do not even know why I am filled with this dread. I have failed a course, my grades are only mediocre, and the holiday break seems full of disappointments. But that is not why I feel this dread.

It comes from something else that I myself do not even fully understand. It is my hope that I can understand and dispel this feeling before winter and my favourite cold go away for another year...

Opportunities

2007-12-17T21:30:00.001-05:00

I failed AP Physics B. Every attempt I made to pass, every moment I spent studying, was all entirely worthless. I gained nothing for GPA. I did not earn the credit for high school graduation.

I studied for two hours last night. I looked over test reviews. I did not feel like I had an understanding. My Physics teacher barely speaks English and I do not like her teaching style. I gained very little understanding throughout the course. My grade before the final was a 57.8% without the ten points given to me to compensate for the rigour of the course. After my studying, I received a grade of 60 on the final, higher than about half of the grades in the class. My grade went down two tenths of a point. Six or seven out of eighteen students failed. I was one of them.

Each day, I begin to realise more and more life is not about how hard someone works. That idea of work yielding success proportionally is absolutely not true. Not in this country, at least. Life is all about what opportunities are given. Some people are given more opportunities. Others are given few. Regardless, to survive, everyone must use to the best of their ability what opportunities are given.

For example, I know several students whose parents made excellent grades in school and went to great colleges but live every day in poverty. My parents' degrees were basic but they had the opportunity to immediately jump into their families' businesses. My family is now in the middle to upper class of society, and my family had to do half of what the others did in order to succeed.

As a second example, many students were able to have other Physics teachers that taught in accordance with their learning styles and/or spoke English perfectly well. Needless to say, that opportunity helped them to succeed. I have been given three teachers that teach me very well and make it very easy to do well in their classes. Some students do not have the same teachers. Life is all about what opportunities are given and what is done with them.

I should have tried harder. I could have done better, regardless of my condition. I could not have done as well as someone who put forth the same effort in a class with better opportunities. But I could have made myself pass.

I failed the class. I failed myself.

How Foolish of Me

2007-12-15T22:57:00.001-05:00

I didn't see it at all. I always denied it when I heard of him or references to him.

Then it all became clear in a flash. I was blind, and there he was. She never told me.

She didn't want to. She let me find out on my own, too late.

Now what do I do ? I don't know what to do.

An Unfortunate Announcement

2007-12-13T23:18:00.000-05:00

I do not know how many people read this. However, those that do have probably been disappointed with my lack of posting in recent days. I have been rather busy and I have been trying to at least make a post, even one as pathetic as 'See below'. This is why things are going to change.

I regret to inform the readers that my daily posting is going to cease. I am no longer going to attempt to post every evening. If I do not have time, I am not going to squeeze a tiny unimportant entry into the time constraint. Keeping up with my website along with this has become a monstrous task, especially when coupled with homework and whatever else is occupying me late at night.

In conclusion, I will attempt to post every night unless time constraints do not allow me.

See Below

2007-12-10T23:59:00.000-05:00

See below.

Es Tut Mir Leid

2007-12-09T23:59:00.000-05:00

I have been occupied with school and various other activities that have prevented me from writing.

Shaken Bottle

2007-12-08T23:59:00.000-05:00

There is this thing inside of me that wants to get out. Pressure is building but I must not let it escape.

With every passing day and every thought of it, the pressure builds further. If I let it escape, the consequences will be dire. However, it would be a bit of reprieve from this eternal struggle.

I am a shaken soft drink, ready to burst.