Looking back...

So I visited this blog for the first time in like 2 years, and man, was it a read. Lots of smiles and tears (Earthbound reference FTW!), but it certainly was a blow to see how much I've changed, yet how I'm still very much the same. I don't write anymore, but looking back at some of the things I've written, there's a sense of disconnect. I mean, I can't connect them to myself; its like a different person wrote them. And...I actually like some of it! (although I still think some of it is garbage)

But yeah, I might start writing again, although I'm pretty sure I can't be as funny as I once was (stuffed animal overlords, pfft). That sort of nonsense was drained out of me by years of eating unprocessed cheeses. Not sure how I feel about the emotional content I put in though...meh, guess I'll leave the old stuff there out of laziness for searching for the delete button. If anything I've grown more cynical about the state of humanity, if that's possible, but at the same time I've grown kinder towards individuals and squirrels. I won't go into my personal views on these subjects or I may be detained.

Umm...that's it, I guess. Why did I even write this? LAY OFF ME, I'M STARVING

I'm back! With...stuff! Yeah!

Okay, so I've actually been back for a week now, and totally forgot I had a blog. Oops! Anyway, in honor of my return, I'm going to show a new type of poetry I learned about today. Actually its just because I have no idea what else to do. But! Here it is anyway:

"Cut the bindings off of books found at a used book store. Find poems in the pages by the process of obliteration. Put pages in the mail and send them all around the world. Lather, rinse, repeat." - http://www.logolalia.com/alteredbooks/

Entranced, p.27 - Tim Martin


Entranced, p.2 - Tim Martin

West of Dodge p.2 - Nico Vassilakis

Mismatched SoCs: The Walls are White

. The Walls are White
. They’re Stained by the Light
It comes dripping down from the ceiling above,
My pooling eyes are soaking it all in
my feet are fading
sinking in the linoleum sea
the currents are running away with me
the frothy sea brine would feel quite fine
if it wasn’t so sharp
if it wasn’t so dark
if it wasn’t so hard to hold onto the line
with the waves crashing hard and the salt in your throat
with submerged coral slashing the pages you wrote
you’re screaming and thrashing but you’ve lost all hope
Be wary of tables:
Marked and designed to suit your crime,
They’ll swallow you whole and leave nothing behind
Your skin starts to rip and your bones start to grind
They eat you alive, but I really don’t mind.
It’s the silent weathervane that bothers me.
There’s no wind here.
. The Walls are White,
and the windows are weathervanes.
Here, the mirrors learn from your hair.
Does it run down your face? Do you drink it? It tastes like soup.
The final moments of a blood-stained memory
Link arms with the innocence of childhood
Everything is lost now.
Lost, lost, lost
in the white of the White Walls
Can you remember the White Walls too?
Where they came from?
The depths of hell hold the key to your cell.
We all know hell has White Walls
A pretty face with warts on the heart
It knows how to live and play out its part
And never stops singing, ringing, stinging,
Bats screeching and preaching,
The gentle sloth learns HTML programming
And becomes a ferocious tiger
With pearly white fangs
And pearly White Walls.
The tree’s final moments:
A seed planted in the blood-stained ground
Muddy blood,
Bloody mud,
A black thorned castle grows from the Earth.
His curved blade flashes.
The silver edge shimmers like mist.
A cloud of oil;
Oil as black as the blackest night
and the darkest wish.
The Tree’s final moments,
my final memories,
bloody ones.
Death
has White Walls, too.
Can you finally see?
The White Walls are closing in
crushing the light
I
can still breathe
but
the air .escapes
slipping through the cracks
I am
trapped
here with the White Walls
and the most free
I could wish to be
swimming outside
in the flowers and filth
the snow
and the shards of glass
a hay in a needlestack
holding hands
with the clock on the wall
. The Walls are White.
. The Walls are

On Connectogram

This one can't come out right on this page 'cuz of Blogger's stupid autoformat thing (AUGH) so I had to arrange it differently. Usually the 2 poems are side by side so thy can be read down or across. However, since I'm not allowed to do that, I have to put them each in turn followed by the connected poem. To see the "real" version of it, click here

Not my favorite work, but it was an interesting experiment. Actually the idea came from Daft Punk's "Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger". Odd influence, even odder results. Written early 2008. Any questions? I might be able to answer them ^_^

Connectogram

Spidernet

An interlocking series of events
Each one fueling another reaction
Chemicals in a test tube
Boiling over and splashing everything
Too much!
How am I supposed to think
With everything in the world
Happening at once?
Every action I make
Changes tomorrow’s shape,
Every breath I take
Is a breath taken from a drier mouth
Perhaps I should stop acting,
Take my last bow, and leave the stage
For good.
Even that will change what happens.
I guess there is nothing I can do
Except go with the flow.

Interweb

Connected at the deepest level
Every reaction affects everyone
A raging river to the sea
Soaking all to the bone.
I need a break from this world.
The important things in life
Falling apart to the collisions
For every honking horn
Every step taken in the right direction
A line to a circle.
Breathing in the chaos of life
Thirsting for more.
Just pick up the pieces,
Broken and scattered in the waters
It can be put back together, but
Nobody knows how it fits.
No actions I can take to stop it,
The flow of the ocean.


Spidernet / Interweb

An interlocking series of events / Connected at the deepest level
Each one fueling another reaction / Every reaction affects everyone
Chemicals in a test tube / A raging river to the sea
Boiling over and splashing everything / Soaking all to the bone.
Too much! / I need a break from this world.
How am I supposed to think / The important things in life
With everything in the world / Falling apart to the collisions
Happening at once? / For every honking horn
Every action I make / Every step taken in the right direction
Changes tomorrow’s shape, / A line to a circle.
Every breath I take / Breathing in the chaos of life
Is a breath taken from a drier mouth / Thirsting for more.
Perhaps I should stop acting, / Just pick up the pieces,
Take my last bow, and leave the stage / Broken and scattered in the waters
For good. / It can be put back together, but
Even that will change what happens. / Nobody knows how it fits.
I guess there is nothing I can do / No actions I can take to stop it,
Except go with the flow. / The flow of the ocean.

Lalala, I graduate tomorrow! ...WHAT?!?

So, I haven't updated in a while. Yeah...I have to try and get back on track, too much has happened and slipped from my mind to never touch the pages of this brilliant blog. So I'll just spit out some random stuff to try and cover 2 weeks:

I graduate high school tomorrow. OH MY GOD.
I leave for camp on Sunday and will be gone all summer. OH MY GOD.
I'm trying to get an apartment and a job for college in the fall. OH MY GOD.
I actually started to enjoy my life in the last couple weeks. OH MY GOD.
I cleaned my room. Its actually clean this time. OH MY GOD.

Now that I have the "OH MY GOD" things out of the way, here are some more random tidbits:

1) The "OH MY GOD" things kinda correlate to finger lengths, don't you think?
2) I've actually done some sort of social activity for the past 2 weekends. Its a new record!
3) I discovered Touhou, a crazy video game series. Its a scrolling shooter (like Space Invaders) only more insane. I like it for the characters and music, but the enemy fire is amazing. I can't describe it in words. Here are some screenshots, conveniently placed in one image file:


Plus, the characters, relationships, and plot are all highly developed. Its a series worth looking into, in my opinion. And I usually end up forcing other people to look at it by constantly talking about it or spamming their facebook profiles ;^_^ I'm so annoying...
4) I'm actually attempting to make friends recently, instead of hiding in the background.
...its not working too well. And I don't handle rejection well, either. So recently I've had severe self-esteem issues, to the point where I lock myself in the closet for hours and beg my stuffed animal overlords to make people like me. The problem is that I can't tell if people like me or not, so I automatically assume the worst. If I can just get over that...shoot, I'm being all depressing again. I have to stop that =/
5) I almost beat Brawl! Only 10 stickers left...
6) I suddenly developed a bizarre love for the accordion. I can't get enough of it. Seriously, like anything with an accordion in it is golden.
7) I kinda lost track of what I was doing, so I don't have any other tidbits. I figured I'd round off at 7 instead of 6 though, I like 7 more than 6.
8) I like 8 more than 7 though, so this is the real last one.

Alright, enough of my nonsense. I'm leaving for camp all summer (as previously stated), so you won't hear from me much. I'll be home on weekends and might post then, and camp might have wifi this year! Woohoo! But yeah, umm, THE END

*This post is dedicated to the one who got me back on the blogging track. You know who you are. Thank you, AL. (Al? XD) (Sorry, Ashley)

My parents are cereal killers

I usually have a bowl of cereal every morning for breakfast. Well not THIS morning. THIS morning my parents decided to throw out all the cereal. Why did they decide to do that? Because there was a spaghetti sauce leak in the pantry and some dripped on the box. Doesn't that seem just a little ridiculous? I mean, there was only like a couple drops on the box, and the cereal is in a plastic bag anyway, so whyyyy would they throw it out?!? So I had to have a sandwich for breakfast because we had no cereal BUT I always have a sandwich for lunch and I can't have two sandwiches in one day so my entire eating schedule EXPLODED! I had to eat a microwave pizza for breakfast!

Thank goodness I went to a barbecue today and lunch was saved. However, I failed miserably at Scene It. It was still a funderful time though. Thank you, barbecue-giver, for keeping my entire universe from unraveling at the hands of a breakfast microwave pizza. However, I was forced to eat cheese and crackers for dinner...

Another entry on some random ramblings? What is this blog coming to...

SoC: Shattered Seashells

Shattered seashells so fluid and flowing groaning and growing hardly shards but scattered cards slaves washed away by waves and graves so empty they teem so silent they’re screaming and shouting their outing to nowhere to go where and show where their flow ends to bend and twist and mold the gist of gold to gain in pain to shine glowingly and knowingly with wisdom of all time and trial and tribulation the tv station of static staring straight through the melty-brained child stars and felt-handed compact cars caught catching crowns in crowds of clouds that fade softly into the mist you quietly wade in.

Shattered seashells shaping hearts that beat at their own slow pace tick slowly off the clock’s face fall softly in the palm of your hand folding grains of sand to make music and light in the stomach of night to digest lest they rest eternally in the eyes of the sky god and his flowing fields made of salty silk and orange milk that is safe enough to drink and sink down to the shine and brine at the base of the stand of the globe and the silver hem of the robe that no one can wear lest they tear away from the world.

Shattered seashells and scattered bells are the battered hells of which Simon tells each time he speaks in his commanding tone you must retaliate or be sucked into his dark romantic dance and games of chance to waltz in the fiery flags of white-tailed stags repeating forever their final fatal endeavor to mix and match and spark a revolutionary love a wingless dove senselessly beaten slashed crushed and mashed to be trashed happily ever after.

Shattered seashells finally free sadly drifting aimlessly so empty and whole yet not quite in-between for you and I to find together with our hands melting and our fingers still crossed after all these eternities spent soaking in the seashells.

Deaf to all but the song (the useless picnic story)

So today, in honor of school ending on Wednesday, the IB teachers held a big congratulatory picnic. There were like 100 IB kids there, most of which I tend not to get along with. And considering I do poorly in large crowds anyway, it was a recipe for disaster when I decided to go. Mainly I decided to go because there was nothing else to do, and I didn't want a repeat of yesterday's disaster: eating only 2 blocks of cheese and watching SciFi channel all day. There was a Tru Calling marathon!

Anyway, I basically spent 3 hours sitting on the grass and not speaking to anyone. Usual picnic for me. Except I had this song stuck in my head the whole time, and it just kept playing over and over and driving me slowly insane. I won't share what song it is, since doing that is useless to the story. Anyway, now I have to babysit a dog for the weekend, and my mom thinks I'm going to jump out of a window in misery. Oh, I think I skipped some parts. Oh well, those parts aren't important to the story either. Actually the story isn't important at all anyway. Let's change the subject...or at least expound on a previously stated theme.

So, I get songs stuck in my head a lot. Sometimes it gets so bad that I'm driven mildly insane by the music playing in my head. However, its usually really entertaining, and the music fits the situation I'm in. For example, I'll get town music from Earthbound playing in my head while I walk home from school, and I'm entertained the whole way back. Yeah, usually when I get a song in my head it keeps me from getting ridiculously bored (with my meaningless existence). So, I guess having a permanent iPod in my head is a blessing more than a curse.

...I totally lost track of what the topic was here. Oh well.

THE END!

Confusion...

WARNING: Emotional content. Viewer discretion is advised.

So, I haven't posted in a while. Everything's just really confusing now. My last day of high school was today...I just wish I could join in with everyone else and their simple gladness that they're moving on. But something is holding me back, like it always does.

Its not that I'm glad to be out of the hellhole called Schenectady High, its just difficult to leave. I never had many friends there, but it was just...familiar. I could go there knowing I'd see certain people at certain times, knowing what teachers I could talk to about what subjects, just feeling comfortable. But its over. The whole routine, after getting to know my classmates for 4 years, and suddenly just having it all drop away from beneath me, its just hard.

I can't find the right words to express what I'm feeling, and its killing me. If I'm supposed to be this great writer, then why can't I find the words that matter? I mean, I have all these emotions that I could write about, but its like I can only write them when I'm not feeling anything. Someone I know from school wrote a note on Facebook (haha, this sounds so unprofessional) where he talked about how he always has this mask on so that nobody can hurt him. I kind of feel that's what I do...I always seem to get hurt when I try to open up, so I just sucked back into myself, never speaking or trying to make friends. I don't know if it was fear, or what else it could be. Now, I just don't seem to know how to open up anymore, even when I write.

Everyone always talks about how beautiful my poetry is, and how deep the emotions I expressed are...but no matter how much I get complicated, I always hate what I wrote, and even that I do write. I never want people to see that side of me, especially friends. And its weird, since what I write is completely fabricated. I guess its a double edged blade...I'm too scared to show what I really feel because I'll just get hurt again, but I still feel the need to write anyway. So I fabricate emotions in poetry, and then I hate it because it isn't real.

It feels like I built up this whole wall to keep everyone out, and once it solidified I wanted to bring people back in, but I just couldn't. Now I feel, well, empty all the time. Sometimes I even feel hated. But, I brought it on myself. I think the biggest enemy I have is myself. I'm always tearing myself down. Its almost like because its something I was practically raised with, I do it to myself for a twisted feeling of comfort. Maybe even a feeling of home. But what kind of home is that? Home should be safe...how can my pain bring a sense of home?

Sorry for the rambling...I don't know, I'm just really confused right now. Maybe when I'm not insanely emotional for no apparent reason, I can explain things better. Or maybe at that point I'll just be fabricating it all again.

*Prime candidate for therapy here*

Silhouette of a Draining Heart

I

Colors pour from my eyes
The sky’s silent, empty tears
Cannot wash away the stains I’ve made
The darkening rainbow of blood splashed across the sky
Runs down the fading brick walls
Pools in the cracked dog dish
Dries into the crimson velvet of your room
A solitary plume is left floating in the ice-cold water
Resting motionless in the gushing rapids
Soak in the flowing colors
Return them to my fingertips
I need them
I
need
them
~
Colors pour into your eyes
Bleeding through the canvas
Filling the rifts of your mind
Oil.
Your blood flows like oil.
Black sludge in your veins.
Is it colorless
Or all colors melded together?
The whites of your eyes are gone
Flown to the sun to burn away all trace
The light is fading
The rainbow is dripping away
Filling in the hollowed night
The colors bleed
Colors always bleed

II

The colors of our eyes mix
Running down our faces
Our waltz splashes through the dense black of night
Your hand melts in mine
Go back to the surface, rip through the mud
Before the wrinkled satin dress tears
Into the sun’s fiery grasp we dance
Violet
~
Color
Color is nothing
Dark
Color is everything
The dark shatters
Violet
Violet shines through
The mirror shatters
Shards of violet
Pulsing in violet
Color is violet
Each pump of my heart resounds
A deafening violet
Vi-o-let
Violet is everything
~
The final chilled drop falls
Our dance sinks into the earth
Our eyes have faded away
A violet rainbow fills the sky
Scraping against the hallowed night
The colors bleed away
Colors always bleed away

Communet

One day for spite
We each had to write
A poem a peer would read,
The teacher grinned
Like we had all sinned
And set our thoughts to bleed.
Our pens delayed
But soon we obeyed
And splashed our pages red,
By symbol’s face
We wrote such a pace
We should all have been dead.

Now I, a child
So meek and mild
I never spoke a word,
Wrote with such strength
At such a length
I knew I must be heard.
My paper beamed
My word-voice screamed
With soul I never told,
A dazzling show
Of joy and woe
A masterpiece, behold!

And then it was time
By rhythm and rhyme
To read each other’s works,
I felt like a king
Since my poem would bring
Sound to my voice where it lurks.
The papers were passed
My heart beat too fast
Nervous to take to the stage,
So now here’s my crown
I’m left looking down
At the words that plague my own page.

This post is about...screw it, I'm tired

So pretty much every day in Journalism I spend the whole class on The Onion. Its awesome. That's pretty much all you need to know. That's also pretty much all I'm going to write for now. Oh wait, here's my horoscope:

Aquarius Jan 20 - Feb 18
Don't let negativity win out today, even though it probably will, because you're a worthless human being who most likely doesn't deserve to be happy!

Social Anxiety! Oh joy!

Okay, so I've had this crazy mash-up of good and bad fortune happening all at once and in congruence with each other over the past couple days. I'd rather not explain the whole thing, since its really complicated. Imagine Needful Things by Stephen King, and that could give you an idea of how complicated the combination of events was. Luckily, all the fortunes added together had a positive sum. Hurray positive sums!

Anyway, our final project in Psychology involves researching some sort of psychological issue and presenting it to the class. The teacher assigned me Social Anxiety. Not as exciting as some of the others, but she either chose it for a reason or there was some sort of huge coincidence - that's right, after researching it for hours, I discovered that I have Social Anxiety. It hasn't been diagnosed or anything, but it seems pretty obvious to me (and like everyone else). So...yeah, it explains a lot. Look up more info here (if you want): http://www.socialphobia.org/

By the way, Thursday the 28th was my gerbil's birthday. HAPPY BIRTHDAY SALISBURY! I think it was 7 people who wished him the same, but its not like I was counting or anything...

Yeah, that's it for today.

From my notebook

These are a couple of rhymes I jotted down during History class. At the time I knew what I was doing with them, but looking at them later I'm not too sure. I wish I wasn't so easily distracted, then my stuff would be more interesting...


Double Edge Words

Your crisp twisted truths tear and rip through my stomach
Like swallowing thorns just to get some cheap chuckles
You know I'd cry stop in a million flavors
But fish hooks are lodging themselves in my knuckles

You sleep in the daylight and conjure these poisons
They plague and devour our garden's sweet song
The hummingbirds swim in cold puddles of acid
And hope that the rust in their throat isn't strong

A changeling made of soup and silver
Built too high to touch the earth
Your bloody eyes change virtues to lies
And curse the values of birth