I am very very very afraid. So afraid that I feel I must say "very" three times, as if one cannot hold the emphasis of three. In fact, using three is so simpleton that one may have a stronger effect. But that's not the point.
The point is I'm a long winded bag of flesh that's scared to death. Of what? I'm sorry, I must obfuscate here. You must know? Get used to disappointment. But know that there are things in this world which make a happy person loose faith.
There's something else, though. It's a pit of positive anticipation. This unamed situation may yet yield positive outcome, and however terrible it is, it might not be that bad. In case you haven't figured it out, I'm an optimist. It's also my new thing to be happy all the time, no matter what. I've been influenced by some philosophies which state that everything right and wrong is based on perspective; everything good and bad equally confined by point of view. That's why there's always a positive way to look at things. No matter which moral code a situation violates, another one can be fitted to it in order to positive the outcome.

What does this all mean? I have no idea. I'll just busy myself until the time comes, and think of metaphors to ease that waiting feeling like pepto-bismal for your angry stomach. Except even pink liquid won't entirely assuage that fear. and so when this fear is resolved, for good or ill, if I am still alive, I will tell you what the outcome will be. Wish me luck!

I'm not really into anything that happened around the same time I posted the one before this one, so whatever. If you happen to care enough, IM me, or maybe I'll speak of it again later.

What's really going on with Rob? The barenaked ladies new CD, Everything to Everyone. Maybe Katie is an amazing song. Hmm...nothing else really interesting. I could list stuff about my life, but then you'd get a very very sterotypical Blog/journal, and frankly folks, that's not what you paid for here. So some easily theftable poetry? Hmm...Maybe I should rip on someone we all know, just to raise controversy, although I don't know how effective that would be. It seems that many times people just ignore me, 'cause I don't really dig drama scenes, so they all know I'm being facetious. People know who their friends are, and what kind of people everyone is. It doesn't change. That's the way it is. But since I don't really care about that anyways, does it matter anyways? And this post makes very little sense, I think, but that's ok, I suppose. It IS a journal, no? I'll see most of you (or all of you, whoever reads this) at the xbox party tonight, and then you can see who I really am. Or at least, who I look like. That's intestting...Is our personality subject to the perception of the person observing us? If so, why bother ever change anything about your character if everyone makes up their own damn mind anyways? Well, some people are impressionable, and girlfriends can learn to hate you if your a big jerk. I've learned this. So about personality, and individuality, I think I wanna be a nice guy. yeah. I have the cynicism and drive down, but I need to do homework and suck up to the peons. (sorry to all you peons out there)

I have to go right now. But you didn't make it this far, right? (seeing as I didn't bitch about anything that relates to you)

CAUTION!!!!!! I am being EXTREMELY honest in this submission (see title). Read at own risk.

I'm glad that Rosie got a different role, because I think that VI's part sucks. Also, this'll give her a chance to show her stars with a different kind of role. I do want to see the level of skill she has. I think she's pretty good, but Martha Washington isn't to splendiforous (yes, that's a word). Cops & Love was good, although I'd have played it differently. I don't think she did bad, I'd just have done it differently, that's all. In 42nd street she was good. I haven't seen any of her other plays, although *someday I will see her family home videos (;-0) which focus on her instead of the show.

What else? Lela...what a pessimistic wrech. I hate my life because I'm not cast in a highschool play. Easy for me to say (i've already been cast), but I don't care that much. I forgot what I was going to say. hmm... i probably left something unresolved.

I am tired. I know this. And I can objectively rank my mood. It is not justified with what I remeber to have happened to me. I can't think of anything bad, only good. And God, I love God. This mood is not sanctioned by my objective side, not created by my reason or supported by its evidence. SO why, then? why? why why hw

It's my brain and my tiredness. I wish I were lElA, so I could skip school, and sleep tomorrow. Sleep tonight, i guess. think of happy things...it is no avail. hope that you will be happier in the morning, rational or irrational. yes.

I have been very very rational all weekend (weird considering I was on a religious retreat), and now I am no longer cabable of that. I am...irrationally depressed. I have hope for an irrationally good start for tomorrow.

I'm using this entry as a meduin to organize my thoughts. It is sunday the sixteenth and thus it comes my chace to write this english essay which is due sometime in the next week. I have, in fact, no other options because my mother is forcing me to work on homework, but that is not the point.

The point is difference.

I am the self-appointed warden of all things anti-cliche. I can see, after training under my everlasting hero, Obviousman, that this paper is a field day for cliches. It's basically a nothing essay, designed as busy work on a pointless subject to further our ability to write. And even as I opened the new word document, that page of paper stretching down from the blinking cursor like a vagabond sees the prarie for the first time, I felt the pull to write a slipshod essay, virulent with cliche. The subject of the paper is irony, irony being the only subject. The Pardoner's Tale is too short to have more than one prevading ironic theme dealing with the addage, "radix malorum est cupiditas" which means "the root of all evil is desire." So as soon as I write the same thing every other student in my class does, about how it's ironic that the pardoner preachers yet does not practice, I am giving up my faith to heatens.

So what to be done? The story is about three rioters trying to kill death end up dying themselves. THe three find an old man and enquire as to where they could find Death, and the old man directs them to a tree. By this tree is a massive fortune, which they all kill themselves over to get personally, forgetting about the original noble quest themselves. So it seems that Death is the more cleaver personage in to story, or a better moral than radix malorum est cupiditas is "stupid is as stupid does."

Euphoria, Elation, High spirit, happy, content, felicitous, pleased, joy, delight, gladden, joyfulness, pleasure, rejoice, enchant, enjoy, enrapture, enthrall, delectation, enjoyment, love, charity, compassion, wonderment, amazement, passion, youth, beauty, cacoethes, rage, warmth, bouncy, wonder, admiration, marvel, esteem, appreciate, YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

This grungie kind of acoustic mood is nice. I'm sinking in it tonight. Next year, people, next year, there will be a recording of marching band music in some sort of controled setting and a CD of NDCL MARCHING BAND MUSIC released near the end of the year/season depending on how things shake down. Getting it in with music from saint patricks day parade (i.e. Irish Party in Third Class) would be bitchin'. Also, next year if we do Malaguena and Aztec Fire and Caravan and put them on it that would KICK A-BUTT.

On a more serious note, a certain mysterious friend of mine has informed me that the guenievere situation contains actaully a third knight, for lack of better terms reffered to as Sir Gawain (even though Gawain is hell-a cool and 1000x better than lancelot) to give me a mass of plebs surrounding the colleseum in Rome. it's like "that song was on a beer commercial" "really?" no, I lied.

except I will when the situation becomes more obvious, the picking up and swinging, the innuendoes, the "coaching" in the back corridors, the words I spoke and ment. and then also new thing, the life-time of history, the innuendoes as well, the softly singing voice, the dirty mind, the kick in the ass, the revered manner in which I speak of it(the subject#3, sir gawain). For Sir Gawain is the best, and nothing is better than that.

It's extremely risky to stick poetry of mine on this website, because anyone could see it, steal it, and pass it off as their own. but here's one, cause you people need to know my style.
The Autumn Effect

wind howels, sin rises
the time has come to sing
and I'm off key
again, but this time closer
or futher away but different
the time it takes to shine a light
up into the rafters of the old house
or a lighthouse, 'cause they like that
so lines get longer, songs echo past
the corridors of my life
are never ending

I bastardize your hand here
but it feels ok
autumn leaves and sweaters
and the old raccon's
wiley friend
are all mine.
TA


Enjoy it? Perhaps.

The matrix II disappointed me because they misused CG in film. My dad credits this because one of the brothers wanted to rush the film before his divorce. If so, he's a stupid bastard that should be assassinated.

I haven't seen matrix III revolutions. forgive me. I will see it soon. I have two things to say to you, rosie. the first is "te quiero" and the second is in sign language, so I'll have to catch you later

I am not feeling very poetic or cynical or creative tonight. This means my entire purpose is suspended, because I do not also I have a book to read. Believe it or not, coding required a certain level of creativity(high because I lack at lot of basic knowledge and experience) and poetry and fiction and journal and music are all creative. SO I either kill things in halo or dither around random google.com searches and wasting time with talking. that might not be wasting time.

I hate livejournal, and it hates me. it is satan.

I jsut said something risky...what will it fruit...WEll, it seems ok, but the water of the 4th gate are trecherous. That's our secret, Lela. Lela...lela baby........where are you burried here? I think I know what your thinking, but I'm biased. Lemme know sometime? it's dangerous now, 'cause I've got miles to go before I sleep, and miles further still before I really figure out what's going on. Robert Frost really was admitting in "Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening" that he doesn't give a damn about the meaning of life, that he's only here to stumble through and be an angel other stupid people who likewise want to stumble through. And then again, we shall she were this goes, daughter of my new wife. We shall she were this goes.

hahahaha, no one reads this. I have proof! they've all lost interest. close your tags and )))something, jason. wow, I'm not even looking at the keyboard, as if thinkning about it will ruiund the magic of good typing. Ready, go for speed in ypyinh, and I won't proof read what I've tgpyed.

wow, not too bad, not too bad.

I'm in an exceptionally good mood. Have you ever heard me say that I wished good things would fall into my lap? well they have been more and more as I get older. The only gap 'twixt this unbelievable luck and doom is the stuff that I have to do with it. "All you have to descide is what to do with the time that has been given to you." well, I'm not carrying the ring to Mordor, but just 'cause my life is a little sugar coated right now isn't a reason to slack off. So robby, get your ass in gear. But now it's quite late, and I must retire.

I have no idea what I'm doing here on Earth. The feel is amplified by 1000 speakers emitting no sound, personified by 1000 disbanded soldiers. They are marching away from their cause. They don't care. I just want a cause. I want something that will shimmer in my life like moonlight and illuminate those around me. And I want only one, so that nothing else matters and I don't want anymore. or anything else.
I am at home, the lights are all on inside and it is dark outside. I can see my reflection, almost. it disgusts me. I am what I hate. and I hate that, and it loops and loops until the program just quits and all forget about it. Less people actually understand/care than I'd like to think. Some people are so set in their ways that their minds, i don't think, will ever broaden to encompass things like this. It's not suicide, it's not true love. It's limbo.
I want to live and love and save the universe but how do I answer? I have nothing to say, no thing to say...... the demagogue has chosen me as a scape-goat, but no one cares about anything. sad music, fiction, only one friend talks to me.

some music like yanni or dido or enya. I suppose I'm done typing. then I'll listen Interpol alone.

I re-read that and thought, who the hell do I have to submit to? I'm sick of stupid rich white kids not wanting, or able to admit it. It's easy to be catholic when you've got a decent life with a FAMILY that LOVES you and a purpose in your head. So here I am, still striving for perfection, but I've never done it to give them anything, nor am I trying to enter their world. Verily it is myself I have to prove it to, and to them, to show them up.

Jesus wants us to believe in him and to love eachother - and NOT to succumb under pressure. I dont' care how hard it is. Socailly, everyone starts where the person with the most inborn advantages starts. This person might be George Bush right now, so until you've achieved something of that height, your nothing noteworthy. I don't really take it an excuse that I have these problems with my home life. It's just that I despise the attitudes of kids who preach the faith and never wonder about it. You've got to questoin

This essay is a little disjointed, screw that ,,I have classwork to do.

Aahhhhhhhhhh///// This song speaks volumes. I shouldn't talk, for some moments are so wonderful and now that I'm sitting here on this desolute chair in the desert, typing on this desolute computer-machine thingy, I want I want I want, and I hate fools who dance around, like they know all and I hate those who lay on top of eachother and dream that life will be everything for them, and that love is here and there and avoid the sunlight that comes into their eyes in the morning after and the headaches remind them there cannot be a love and the person laying next to them needs to shave and the person laying next to them needs to loose a few pounds.
now I believe that lovers should be chained together thrown into the fire with their songs and letters left there to burn in their ignorance, their arrogance, they fucked on the espistles of Paul.
and ok

I have to go now. Some idiot put things on the modem and it overheated. Idiots!

I wonder how catholic I am. I rant and rave a whole lot, like above. I wanna be catholic, but I'm kinda crude. Catholicism... Interesting. A lot of people who are strong catholics befriend me(because they're nice people) but get turned off by my A)random surges of angry B)occasional crudeness fueled by apathy and C)my whole person is slightly agnostic and apathetic. Am I required to be conformist, or my own religion?

Insomnia unites us all. We are all victims to it, united under a smiliar hardship...longing for sleep

I stayed up until well after 1:00 last night finishing stephenie plumb book and hating my sleep deprivation. Now I'm fine, though. I always have all my strength in the morning. I love music and chemistry is very very idiotic. ok im doone now

I titled this entry "reminiscent of Stalin" because I was going to use it as a warning to lurkers in this journal, and perhaps a purge, but in retrospect I don't care. If anything, you lurkers (your know who you are!!!) might learn something about me and my character, as I learn myself by thus manifesting my feelings and occasionally expanding our vocabulary.

At any rate, we're going through this together, and although that's a little cliche of a thing to say, it's mostly true. Everyone uses my journal at different levels, some really really care and others, well, it's just something to do instead of www.bored.com. Whatever that case, response is a little thin, which is OK because this is mainly for me, but sometimes it's nice to get a response - even if it's just to tell my I have terrible grammer or something.:----------)

when I told you. When I told you, I was reffering to Amanda. That was a dead give away. My history is a dead give away, which I suppose sucks.

Anyways, I gorged myself on taco bell today because I pissed off matt talty by telling him not to hit on Kristen. The reason follows. CAUTION: This is my journal, so I can say whatever I want, right? - I think matt is a slimly obnoxious worm whose only purpose in life is to have a house that we can party at, and Kristen, who is a very good friend of mine, deserves a much higher quality male counterpart. That said, it was a jerky thing to do. It's like testosterone bouncing off chests, or trying to bludgeon something to death. I'm kinda used to doing stupid things like that, so I'll just wait for it to pass.