Animalistic Instinct

I've been running from the end of the world for a while now. It isn't a bad thing, once you get used to it. You eat a lot, sleep very lightly, wake up, and run like hell. It's not that hard, either. Once you're out there and the world is crumbling around you, instinct kinda takes over, you know? Some kind of animalistic instinct, programmed into our brains and prepared to take over at the slightest hint of danger. The Fight or Flight reaction, as my biology teacher in high school put it.

It was pretty funny how they made the apocalypse out to be. In the movies and stories, there was always a meteor that was careening towards the Earth, and some fucking awesome action movie star would go up into space and destroy the meteor before it could destroy us.

That didn't happen.

Instead, we didn't even detect the meteor until it was too late. Until it was soaring above our heads, crashing into the planet, destroying everything we once held dear. No Bruce Willis to save us. No ragtag team of drillers turned astronauts to go into space and save us. No doomsday clock that counted down the very nanoseconds until utter extinction.

And that was just it. The meteor crashed somewhere in Eurasia. I can't remember, it's been months since it happened. All I know is that every city since Pittsburgh has been crumbling down around me, and I find myself running from it.

Every.

Single.

Time.

Frankly, I'm tired of it. In between runs I often contemplate just lying there and sleeping, not waking up until it was too late. On purpose, of course. However, every time I try, I get up just before it strikes.

The animalistic instinct won't let me die.

When I get out of those situations, I often thank those instincts. It turns out I didn't want to die. However, that feeling fades quickly.

The Earth is crumbling, and I'm looking to get my ass to Florida. To Cape Cod. To try and see if I can't jump on a shuttle that may be left there. I don't know the first thing about flying a goddamn space shuttle, but I'll sure as hell try.

I hope to find a woman. She don't have to be pretty or anything, just a woman. It's pretty lonely out here, on the run. I want to find a woman who's just like me. A woman who's running as well, so I don't have to drag her along.

I want to start the human race over again. Maybe on a different planet, who knows. Be just like Adam and Eve, only without a God.

There is no God.

I want to find some crazy-ass, foreign planet and restart human life there. I want to have babies with this woman whom I've never met. Maybe it's just the thought of not being alone. Maybe I just want someone to hold, and someone to fuck.

I think it's just those animalistic instincts.

You're the most important thing in my life.

Why are you so far away?

.

Fuck it.

Soundlessness

The boy never heard the sounds of an instrument. The boy never heard the sounds of chatter, never heard music, nor has he ever heard the sound of the wind, blowing across the land, upturning autumn leaves in a huge cacophony of crackling, crunching sound and bright, warm colors. I don't even know if he could hear his own thoughts, or his own voice inside of his head. And I felt bad for him.

We walked the streets of Times Square, New York city. We shoved through the crowds of people, walking down the street in their day-to-day lives. No-one spoke, there was no need to. Sounds were long-gone anyways. No longer was New York filled with the sounds of horns honking, cars accelerating, and the seas of people talking and discussing with each other. I used to hear it. We all did. I looked at the boy holding my hand, and realized he never heard any of it, and I felt bad for him.

No longer were the streets of New York filled with people who would sit on the sidewalk, playing their tunes on their trumpets and trombones in the hopes that someone crossing their path would drop a few coins into their hats. No longer did the religious men and women stand on the corner, waving their bibles around and yelling at people, trying desperately to make them realize the error of their sinful ways. None if it was heard anymore. Sounds were replaced with flashing lights, images, and video. Epic films once filled with character-building dialogue and emotion-rendering musical scores were replaced with action scenes, soundless explosions and the sight of guns going off. And the boy grew up in this day and age. And I felt bad for him.

The idea of sound became, "obsolete" to humans. The idea of sound became "dangerous" to the government. The idea of "sound doesn't sell" entered into people's mind through the ebb and flow of media. Scientists had ideas. The government had them too. Citizens and media further drove those ideas into the ground—into the heads of society. Sound became obsolete, dangerous, and altogether censored and repressed. The boy didn't know why he couldn't hear. As far as he knew, he could never hear, and there was nothing for him to hear. And I felt bad for him.

The wonderful, dulcet tones of a trombone being played on the sidewalk by a man in need of money would never be heard by the boy's ears. The only thing the boy could do was look. Look at the man playing the trombone. Look how he moves the slide up and down, and how it glitters bronze in the sunlight. Look at the man, his cheeks puffed and his lips to the mouthpiece. Look at how he is unshaven, how dirty his hands are from the oil he uses to keep his instrument in tip-top shape. See how he focuses on the task at hand, weaving delicate notes in a pattern that not only is pleasing to the ears, but makes you feel. That feeling, that pattern of notes that is pleasing to the ear, will never be heard by the boy. Instead, we walk past, and the boy stares at the man's futile attempt at trying to produce sound. He looks on as people pay him no mind, refusing to drop coins into his hat like they used to. He watches as he moves the slide up and down, breathing through his nose and exhaling through his tightly pursed lips, trying desperately to produce even the slightest note, to no avail. We walk right by, and the trombone player is a mere passing glance to the boy. And I felt bad for him.

Self-Inflicted

I hate how easily one can make themselves miserable.

For example, I could be even more miserable than normal after having to walk over fields of pure ice.

PURE

ICE

With no 2-hour delay. Half the time I couldn't tell where the ice was, and I fell on my ass.

And then almost lost my phone.

And I could be miserable now, because people insist on pounding on the wall I'm leaning on, causing it to shake, which is extremely annoying.

And I could be miserable because when you're sitting on the floor in the hall, listening to music, and people want to get attention, they for some reason find it acceptable to kick you lightly. It's not really acceptable, it's goddamn annoying.

But, I digress. The point of this post wasn't to bitch.

The point of it was to muse over how you can make yourself miserable.

I love how I could be miserable at all that was mentioned above, but I'm not. Not really.

Because I've chosen not to be miserable.

I refuse to be miserable.

Because if I'm already miserable, then things that would make me miserable would make me even more miserable.

Catch my drift?

So if I choose not to be miserable, and wait to let other things make me miserable, I'll be a happier person. I don't know if that makes any sense but it does.

I have every reason in the world to be angry/miserable, right now, but I won't be. I won't let it get to me, because it'll just make the day even longer, and seeing as how I don't want to be in school already, that will just make it worse.

I wish I could listen to music all day in school so I can get lost in it like I am now. That way, I would have no chance to be miserable. Maybe I'll just imagine the music in my head, and that might help.

And I'll just focus on you as well.

I hate this.

Riddle me this:

If you didn't want to learn how to play the trumpet, you wouldn't waste your energy learning it, correct?

So why do we waste our energy in school, which I don't really care about anymore?

It's not like I'm willingly attending school. If that were the case, I wouldn't complain like this. No, instead I'm unwillingly attending school, and it's a waste of my energy. I'm already exhausted and the school day hasn't even started yet. I woke up this morning at 5:45 a.m. and realized that even sleep exhausts me.

I'm too tired to deal with these people

and honestly I'm too tired to deal with this piece of shit I call a blog.

Fuck it. I'm done.

Obligations

What the fuck is my problem?

Like, why can't I just learn to tell people no?

I shouldn't feel obligated to do everything that everyone asks me.

I bet you that if some random person comes up to me

and asks me to do something, I'll probably do it.

Why can't I fucking say no?

And then when I do say no, or make up some excuse why I can't, I feel bad. Like I'm letting that person down.

I'm only fucking human

and I don't want to stay after school Tuesday, Wednesday, and Friday for the next two weeks.

especially since I'm already staying on Monday and Thursday willingly.

Which means I'd be here every day for the next two weeks.

Fuck that.

No.

No.

No.

I'm going to work up the courage to tell you that I don't feel up to this

and I'm extremely sorry

and I would love to

but I'm already fucking stressed

and this bullshit will just make it worse.

because I can't do it. If I stay at school every single day this week

I won't have time to do homework

So I'll cut into sleeping time

And then I'll be tired for school

and then I'll give up doing homework

and then I'll give up on school

and then I'll fail.

I'm done.

Fuck you.

I'm done.

On a completely unrelated note:

I miss you :(

A New Year, A New Start.

So, it's been a year.
5/12 months had been the best months of my life.
7/12 months--not so good.

However, I know the next 12/12 months will be wonderful.
Because I'm with you.

Happy New Year.

Melodious Melodies

Twinkle twinkle little star, how I wonder what you are.

Have you ever stopped to just look at the varying subtleties and intricacies that come with a melody? Something like Twinkle Twinkle.

CC GG AA G
FF EE DD C

Simple little notes. 6 different notes, played in such a way that is easily recognizable by anyone within earshot of the piano, and the pianist playing the little tune. However, what honestly makes these 6 little notes work together? What if it went:

CC GG CC G
FF EE FF E

It's not the same anymore, is it? Sure, it could be a song of it's own. However, if you've ever tried writing a song, you know from experience that certain notes just don't sound right when you put them next to each other. I couldn't give you an example off the top of my head, but just think about it. Say you started off with one simple note: C.

Where do you go after C? You kind of play around a little on the ivory and ebony keys of the piano. C#? No. Not quite right. Not what you're looking for. Gb? No. Too... flat. Then you start to get bold. Go where no man's gone before. maybe you go to G? you test the key. you play C, then G, both being half notes. You realize that maybe, just maybe, if you played C twice and then G twice, it would sound better. So you do. It sounds wonderful to your ears, so you quickly scribble it down.

You continue the pattern of testing out which notes go well with the previous one you've found. All of a sudden, you've got a masterpiece. You put lyrics to it, and you've got a wonderful song on your hands.

Now, who are you to say that going from CC to GG sounds good? I bet there is one person out there who doesn't like that transition of notes. One person out there who shows distaste for the soundwaves that enter their ears when they hear C-G. It's nothing personal, they just don't like it.

And that's the beauty of songwriting. When you write a song, you're not keeping in mind, "oh god, do people like the way this sounds? How about this? Or this?" You're writing what you like to hear; you're writing the chords and notes you want to play.

So, who am I to say "you can't play C and then G#!" For fuck's sake, go out there and play ybour goddamn C and then G#! Because I can't tell you that doesn't sound right. And if I tell you that it doesn't sound right, I'd be damned if I could prove you wrong.



Look, I don't know what the fuck I'm talking about. It's just a thought that came into my head & I rolled with it.

Melancholy Hill

I hate how now, I can't figure out if my plans and thoughts are because I'm crazy or not.
Like, I can't figure out if I'm making plans because of a mental disorder or something
Or if I'm making these plans because I actually want to complete them.

However, I know when I'm not being crazy.
I'm not being crazy when I say I love you.
I'm not being crazy when I say that I just want to wrap myself around you.
I just want to surround you with myself, draw you into me, and keep you there.
I just want to hold you close and tight.
I love you.

I want you here. Because with you I'm not crazy. Because you're my medicine. When you're close to me.

You think you're so damn funny because you can post things like "hahahahahaha", and you think you're so awesome cause you can hide behind Facebook comments and say "hahahahahaha".

Well you're not.
and you're not.
So fuck off.

NaNoWriMo

The month of literary abandon is here, and I'm so damn excited!
I've started my book. I'm 777 words into it. My goal for Nov. 1st is a 5k run.
1667 words a day.
1552 if I finish this "5k First Day" challenge.
Word warring with my friends.
Let's fucking do this. Let's write a book.
This, my friends, and the best fucking girl in the world are the only things that are good in my life right now. Honestly that makes my eyes water, because it's fucking beautiful and simplistic.
Who knew trying to write 50,000 words in 30 days would feel so good?

I'm exhausted.
I don't want to be in school anymore. I'm freezing, tired, and I just want to curl up under the blanket & be with the best girl in the world.
I miss you

I'm waiting

Anticipation's risin'. Where's your response? I can't wait to see what you've got to say now that I've stood up for myself. I honestly wish that you could read this. That you knew this existed, so you can see just how fucking happy I am without you trying to bring me down.

I'm not letting you put a damper on my week, and I'm sure as hell not letting your bad attitude and negative thoughts affect me.

...

And while we're on the subject of people, I still don't like you (different person than above). While you're stupid, pathetic, and completely hypocritical, I don't hate you. I just want you to fuck off and leave us alone. It's not even like you would do anything to us because you're afraid to confront us. If you want to fucking talk shit about the people I love, you can tell me to my goddamn face, and you can tell it to theirs. Quit hiding behind blogger, facebook, and texts. Much like I don't want to deal with the previously mentioned person's shit, I don't want to deal with yours. I don't care if you talk shit about me, her, or any of my friends, and I don't hear it. In fact, I don't care what you think, because it's insignificant and doesn't matter. And I hope that you read this, and I hope that you know I'm talking about you. This statement is true for the above.

...

As a complete change of pace, I'm happy. I'm in love. I'm going to get through today and the rest of the week so I can be with you, baby.

Reprogramming Mental Preprogramming

No matter what happens next, you're going to have to trust me when I say that I'll still love you.

I honestly don't know what qualities about me make me an apparent asshole and a dick. I'm not sure that I did anything wrong at all. In fact, I'm pretty sure of it. It just seems like every time I have stuff going for me, someone views me as if I'm a horrible person.

However, I don't really give a damn. Because I'm done trying to make people happy. I'm done trying to sacrifice things that will benefit me, just so other people can be satisfied and they can rest easy. Sure, disregard the fact that Jon really needed this. Disregard the fact that Jon is finally happy. Whatever helps you sleep at night.

I know that sounds like a selfish thing to say, but in all honesty EVERYTHING we do as human beings is somewhat selfish. It's not a bad thing. It's human nature. It's programmed into our very being. As much as you want to, you can't Reprogram Mental Preprogramming.

Honestly, I'm not going to let you ruin my day or my week. I'll see you soon. And when I do, I'll smile and greet you as an old friend, not a foe.

You call her a bitch, you call me a dick, you say one more goddamn thing and I'll fucking leave. And I'll take my position in the band with me.

We are all freaks living in recession/if we don't move on I'll forever be stuck

NaNoWriMo?

Today I think is a good day to talk about NaNoWriMo.

NaNoWriMo (short for National Novel Writing Month), is a month where writers everywhere stop what they're doing for the whole month of November to write a 50,000 word novel. Prizes you ask?

"All winners will get an official "Winner" web badge and a PDF Winner's Certificate.

The real prize in NaNoWriMo is the manuscript itself, and the exhilarating feeling of setting an ambitious creative goal and nailing it. And the $1,000,000.

Just kidding about the $1,000,000!"

so, basically what we're going to do is write 50,000 words between Nov. 1st and 30th. Wish me luck!

Today I Think

Today is a good day I think to post on my blog.

Why is the world against us? We try harder and harder to be together, and yet, nothing happens. To quote Isaac Newton:

"Actioni contrariam semper et aequalem esse reactionem: sive corporum duorum actiones in se mutuo semper esse aequales et in partes contrarias dirigi."

Or, in English:

"To every action there is always an equal and opposite reaction: or the forces of two bodies on each other are always equal and are directed in opposite directions."

While this is physics, we can easily apply this to our situation. Every action we've taken to be together, there has been an equal and opposite reaction. The more effort we make to see each other, the more we are pulled apart. Such is my suggestion:

Let's make an effort to not be together. That way, the equal and opposite reaction is to force us to be together. Then, we'll be happy. Sound like a good plan?

...

So, I can't stand the people I must sit with for the final class of the day. We're soon going to be leaving --- It's almost 3:00, and that means that we'll have 35 more minutes left in class. I had a headache, but it's passed. I'm not terribly hungry, despite the fact that I haven't had any food at all today besides gum. I haven't had the appetite for breakfast, nor lunch lately. I hope it's not anything serious. I just haven't been hungry.

I feel terrible right now, because I miss the most wonderful girl in the world. She's so goddamn gorgeous, and amazing. I'm so damn lucky. I miss her and love her.

My fading sanity

I can't be assed to deal with these people day in and day out. I can feel my sanity slowly going. I don't really know whether or not to break down and cry or break down and punch someone in the face. If I didn't have so much goddamn strain this trimester of school, I wouldn't feel so bad. Here is a list of things I need to do:

• Get a job
• Get a driver's permit
• Apply to colleges
• Graduation Project Paper
• Graduation Project presentation
• Graduation Project website

While small, this list is filled with some pretty huge things. And this is just the beginning of the school year!! Not to mention my grad project teacher keeps laying on layer upon layer of work. I'm not even done with the rough draft of my paper. Now I'm worried that I'm screwed, that I won't be able to graduate. Everyone's putting a huge amount of stress on all these ridiculous fucking things and I can't handle it. Great. Now it feels like I'm going to vomit. I can't focus on my work at all. I honestly keep trying to start it, but my stomach hurts, I feel nauseous, and I'm in such a terrible mood. I'm really sorry for bitching, I just want the week to be over.

Caviar

Fighting everyone that I see
Learning when and where not to be

I'm complaining a lot lately. And I hate complaining a lot. So, this will be a change of pace.

You asked me if we'd still be together a year from now. You asked me if, when I headed off to college, that we'd still be together. I laughed at that question. Of course I would laugh. Darling, when we made our future plans, I meant it.

I'm applying to college. I'm planning on being 30-45 minutes away (60 minutes, at max). I'll be able to drive, so I'm coming back every weekend. Question is, are you going to be there waiting for me? I hope so. I'll see you today, and that will make today better. I'll see you again tomorrow and then we'll be together Friday as well. Everything will be wonderful, and we'll get through the week. I promise.

You, speak of awe
and make every word taste sweet