Sunday, October 1, 2006

   "Boredom"
This was a topic for AMEX...I hope I did well.GOODBYE SEMI LITERACY! (this is failing boldly!)
***If you have anything to add please let me know. The original prompt was this:"In 1670 the French philospher Blaise Pascal wrote the following:

“The sole cause of man’s unhappiness is that he does not know how to stay quietly in his room.”
In the context of our recent discussions on the importance (or lack of importance) of a rich interior life, please support, qualify, or refute the above claim about the ability to sit with oneself quietly and at length.

That is all!****


It seems to me that boredom itself isn't the issue; man's unhappieness seems to be more the pleauge of "filling" that void of boredom.

Boredom is doing too much. Boredom is not doing enough. Boredom is discontent with ourselves and our lives; to the point that we can't sit in our rooms quietly with ourselves- for fear of being "bored".

So what do we do when we discover "we're bored", we find things to do. But can we do after that? We find more to do. Untill the things that "fill", in time loose effect as the victim of boredom seeks more and more outside stimulation to hold back the beast of "boredom".

Millions of chanells and nothing good on T.v? The vast expancse of the internet, and people sitting on MySpace-
and bored?

With all of this distraction from "sitting quietly in our rooms" and being content with ourselves I can't help but wonder Why? What are we afraind of? Why do we insist on distracting ourselves from- ourselves?

Perhaps we shouldn't be asking ourselves what we can to to avoid boredom, but how we can accept it- and ourselves- as we are.

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Saturday, September 2, 2006

   "to whom it may concern...."
I know I've been begging for a challenge, a chance to provemyself, but we never want what e get afterwe get what we ask for. The classic (and more wordy version of the "grass is always greener" cliche)

In other words, I asked for a class that would give me a reason to care about school, stretch me from the overgrown sophmore I WAS into a motivated, efficient AP student worthy of the name. That's what I asked for, and exactly what I recieved.

Unfortunately, I did not anticipate the emotional expectations I would have to face in order to grow. They were, as always hiding right in the middle of obvious, and as I failed to confront them found them actively seeking me out.

In order to grow as a writer I would first have to grow as a person, and that means facing some of my personal demons, and finally being honest with myself- even if it meant leting a few skeleton's out of my closet. As much as it hurts to face the things I've bitterly denied for well over 16 years,it is a necessary step to my personal growth and therefore is an obsticle to be overcome. Like any other problem, I have on choice but to charge ahead without regret and without hesitation, as is my way.

The assignment is simple-write an emotionally honest letter to someone to whom you have something important to say.

I this letter I will adress the one thing I consider my most sensitive topic, the proverbial elephant in the room, the singular person my friends know better than to mention-

My dad.

I hope I will have the strength to say what for 16 years, I've kept to myself.
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Saturday, August 26, 2006

   Time passes....
Ironically, I should be spending this time "blogging" on the school website but find myself too timmorous to do so- despite the friendly nature of the class and my peers, I stil fear their rejection. Harboring doubts about belonging and competence, I find it hard at times to NOT feel like an outsider. Here are some 50+ individuals who have known eachother for three years of more, and share common goals and ambitions while I am still stumbling in the dark behind them, trying desperately at times, to fit in. Beyond my own struggles with my current identity, I am still trying to figure out who everyone else is...perhaps this is the infamous "wandering" stage of the adloescent years?

Time passes

I find myself unsure and lost

My friends pass me by as I pass others....

Time passes

And still all I see is the passing time.....
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Thursday, June 22, 2006

   teachers are real people too
Today's topic: self improvement

In my soon-to-be 11th grade AP class we have an assignment- write 500 words (in no specific format) about what we believe.

"I believe..."

I initially viewed this assignment as a 500 word identity crisis waiting to happen. Why would this teacher give us something that open ended as our summer homework? and why dose HE care about what we believe in?

The answer came in the form of an anime- gto

for those of you who aren't familiar with the "great teacher onizuka" (forgive my impropper spelling)
serries, it is a multi media show that chronicals the life and adventures of one man striving to change japan- one student at a time- by making a diference in their lives, and teaching the viewers the true diference a teacher CAN make.

It shocked fans like me- who have long been skeptical of the influence of others, and especially teachers.

in any case- long story short- I've opened my eyes to new things- and people, more importantly the people I see on an alomost daily basis- teachers.
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Friday, June 9, 2006

   Peace
"There is no emotion, only peace"

This is, one of the philosophies I live by.

Sometimes I wonder if this emotional repression is healthy. The answer is of course no, however- I am faced with a conflict.

On one hand- circumstances force me to be apathetic about 90% of my life, caring only when I am required to. Obeying orders is my sole occupation- as is it seems the true occupation of many a high school student.
"clean your room"
"vaccuume"
"do your homework"
"pass the test"
"SUCEED"

But it seems that all of this mindless obedience breeds two thing:
1-rebellion (often futile and self-defeating)
and
2-apathy, and disapointment.

all I can say in the end is that it is a constant struggle to feel and live normally when life forces the feeling out of you-

so, for now:

"There is no emotion, only peace"


















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Friday, June 2, 2006

   Letting go of heroes...growing up...painfully
What IS a hero? Anyone know? What does it mean to have one? To find one? To loose one?

...I wonder why we can't just find strength in ourselvs- why we have to invent 'heroes' to look up to and embody our values- our ambition.

But enough ambiguity. on to the POINT of this post.
This one is about growing up- changes and heroes.

Needless to say- every child grows up,usually this means changes. Sometimes these changes are good-othes bad, but I'll not bore you with cliche.

In my own way- I've experienced some of life's changes first-hand, this time in the form of one of those inevitable growing pains.

This time, I faced growing up-
in a different way.

It is at this time that I am forced to see the people around me in a new way. The way they are, not the way I'd convinced myself they were. More accurately, I've been confronted with the reality of a person, that for too long I had ignored.

As I'm getting older I see myself grow beyond my childhood toys, clothes, and even fears. Long ago I denounced the monster under the bed, long ago- I stopped needing someone to "tuck me in" or "kiss my owies"

I've known all along that one day I'd have to drop the hand that's kept me safe for all of these years, and walk on my own.

I knew, I know- that one day I will be completely on my own, and that I would have to be my own guide through life, I knew one day...even if I was lying to myself...I just wanted to maintain that lie for a little longer. Even if it was postponing the inevitable truth, I wanted that lie for just a little longer...

I had no idea, however that it would be through such violent- abrupt means. I had no idea that it would be such an ugly horrible thing, nor that when all was said and done-

I'd walk away alone knowing whole-heartedly , that it was indeed for the best.

this is the meaning of growing up- this is "proof of life"

- and now,for once, I will try to stand without the help of "my hero".

(This song says it all)

"Goodbye Alice in Wonderland"
~Jewel~
It's four in the afternoon
I'm on a flight leaving L.A.
Trying to think about my life
My youth scattered along the highway

Hotel rooms and headlines
I've made a living with a song
Just a guitar as my companion
Wanting desperately to belong

Fame is filled with spoiled children
They grow fat on fantasy
I guess that's why I'm leaving
I crave reality

So goodbye Alice in Wonderland
Goodbye yellow brick road
There is a difference between dreaming and pretending
I did not find paradise
It was only a reflection of my lonely mind wanting
what's been missing in my life.

I'm embarassed to say the rest is
rock and roll cliche
I hit the bottom when I reached the top
I never knew it was you who was breaking my heart
I thought you had to love me
But you did not

Yes a heart can hallucinate
If it's completely starved for love
Can even turn monsters into
Angels from above

You forged my love like a weapon
And you turned it against me like a knife
You broke my last heartstring
But you opened up my eyes

So goodbye Alice in Wonderland
Goodbye yellow brick road
There is a difference between dreaming and pretending
That was not love in your eyes
It was only a reflection of my lonely mind
Searching for what's been missing in my life

And growing up is not the absence of dreaming
It's being able to understand the difference between the ones you can hold
And the ones that you've been sold

And dreaming is a good thing cause it brings new things to life
But pretending is an ending that perpetuates a lie
Forgetting what you are
Seeing for what you've been told

Well, truth is stranger than fiction
And this is my chance to get it right
Life is much better without all of those pretty lies.

So Goodbye Alice in Wonderland
You can keep your yellow brick road
Cause there is a difference between dreaming and pretending
These are my tears, in my eyes.
They are only a reflection of my lonely mind finding
They are only a reflection of my lonely mind finding
I found what's missing in my life.

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Friday, May 26, 2006

Without rest, but without hase
So I find myself at the close of another semester, and yet again I am revisited by the feelings of regret and nostalgia common to this time of year, a time of ends, of transitions, and of beginnings.

Reflecting on my sophmore year, I am confronted at once with the realization that I will never be able to get that year back again. What is done is done. The question is did I do the right thing? Study enough? Play enough? Did I take the time to make someone else's day/week/life better?
Will I walk out of this year and leave something-someone changed for the better in some way?
That is the true test for me, my own personal exam, if you will. It is to me more important than any final, any project- because unlike my grades it reflects on me, and my personal growth and devalopment.

Taking everything into account this year proved to me that yes, indeed I can still be shocked, if nothing else.
Being the firm believer in the idea that what dose not kill you makes you stronger that I am, I look forward to what lays ahead, and realize that if I've hit rough times in the past it won't be the last, it isn't the first and I will come out a better person. keeping that in mind I look forward, hopefully, fearfully to Junior year.

Just as I will be looking to the future, and counting down the days...
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Saturday, May 6, 2006

   The sea
The sea is the begining and the end- if you think about it. Lately I've been looking for answers. It's not my style to go on long emotional rants, but it's something I've been wondering about. Where are my loyalties due? expected? deserved? Where do I belong? Why should I belong there? Why should I care about people who don't care about me? ....about people who DO care about me?...all of these questions, and answers along with them are lost among the quiet strength of the sea- which never ends and offers eternal comfort and rest to the thought weary mind. the ocean has no purpose and offers no explanation for it's exsistance. Nothing is expected of it- and yet without it we are all lost. Living by the sea leads me to wonder if we're all living or just walking day to day through this endless waking dream. contradiction is NOT a word- it is a way of life. The grey life strangles my ambition-
without goals life is nothing, bbut sometimes a little danger is what we need to break the inertia.

what are you living for?
stand up and believe.
stand up and try
sit down and think
lie still and die
close your eyes and feel the life just beyond your fingertips...
and lately-
I'd give anything to
breathe
cry
scream
laugh
taste the beautiful agony of
living again.

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   Reflections in a pond show a skewed view of reality.
Nonetheless, I insist on looking back on myself and my past- even though I don't usually like what I see, or want to see what I do. These are poems I posted on one of my old accounts in days gone by. They do not reflect who I am now, but they are an important part of who I was, and therefore deserve a spot on my "reflections" post.

"Sin"
Everything locked up, kept so tight
My mind can't bear this strain
My soul darker than the blackest night
No one knows my pain.
With everything I cannot show
And the daily facade I fake
My emotions I must overthrow
Though I feel like I'm about to break.
For all the things I've said and done
Battles fought, victories won
They call me stoic, they call me brave
But it's myself I cannot save
As if my life is but a lie
Sometimes I lay awake and cry
Wishing I could let it go
Wishing I could let somebody know
Everything that's deep inside
But in no one can I confide
All the feelings deep within
Because to have emotions is a Sin.

^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^

"Lifeless"
Eyes of Sadness
A warrior's heart
Internal madness
Will break apart
A girl who remains unknown
Feels so Hopeless
All alone
A face so sad
A soul so lost
Her touch so cold
It feels like frost
As if this girl is not whole
As if she lives without a soul
So many things that go unsaid
A lifeless body
She seems undead

^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^

"Soulless"
The darkness I keep chained inside
My emotions no one will see.
Things I think I can't confide
In anyone but me.
Feelings I keep locked away
No one will ever know.
All that's buried in my mind
These things I'll never show.
The power of the darkness deep within
To show emotion would be a sin.
Sometimes my strength I do doubt
Sometimes I want to scream and shout
My friends I can hear calling
But still it seems as if I'm falling
I must somehow keep control
And so I live...
Without a soul

^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^

"Fear"
The darkness deep inside
Something no one else will see
No one will ever understand
What it is that makes me be
I cannot show emotions
I cannot show fear
For if I were to let go those things
I would lose everything so dear
But deep inside I am afraid
I feel scared and all alone
This side of me
They'll never see
Because I appear as cold as stone
I want to scream
I want to cry
These tears run down my cheek
I cannot fight it
I cannot win
I'm just too goddamn weak
The saline
stains upon my face
Still, I won't fall without grace So as I lay, about to die
I'll make sure no one sees me cry

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"The Raven's Song"

I cannot live
I cannot die
I cannot smile
I cannot cry
My heart so cold, like icy frost
My mind so dark
My soul so lost
To live in the eternal night
To live without the sickening light
Feeling hidden and unknown
Feeling scared and all alone
Recoiling in fear to whimper and cry
My tears falling like tears from the sky
My Friends I know will never see
Deep inside, The real me
They'll never know theres something wrong
They'll never hear the ravens song

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

That's all for now. I don't feel like recovering the rest of my burried and darker days.
As for me now- it's only "thoughts worth thinking"
today those thoughts, are ones of memories.

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Monday, April 10, 2006

   *queen mab*......Dreams, what do they mean? (Taken from Romeo and Juliet)
ROMEO
I dream'd a dream to-night.

MERCUTIO
And so did I.

ROMEO
Well, what was yours?

MERCUTIO
That dreamers often lie.

ROMEO
In bed asleep, while they do dream things true.

MERCUTIO
O, then, I see Queen Mab hath been with you.
She is the fairies' midwife, and she comes
In shape no bigger than an agate-stone
On the fore-finger of an alderman,
Drawn with a team of little atomies
Athwart men's noses as they lie asleep;
Her wagon-spokes made of long spiders' legs,
The cover of the wings of grasshoppers,
The traces of the smallest spider's web,
The collars of the moonshine's watery beams,
Her whip of cricket's bone, the lash of film,
Her wagoner a small grey-coated gnat,
Not so big as a round little worm
Prick'd from the lazy finger of a maid;
Her chariot is an empty hazel-nut
Made by the joiner squirrel or old grub,
Time out o' mind the fairies' coachmakers.
And in this state she gallops night by night
Through lovers' brains, and then they dream of love;
O'er courtiers' knees, that dream on court'sies straight,
O'er lawyers' fingers, who straight dream on fees,
O'er ladies ' lips, who straight on kisses dream,
Which oft the angry Mab with blisters plagues,
Because their breaths with sweetmeats tainted are:
Sometime she gallops o'er a courtier's nose,
And then dreams he of smelling out a suit;
And sometime comes she with a tithe-pig's tail
Tickling a parson's nose as a' lies asleep,
Then dreams, he of another benefice:
Sometime she driveth o'er a soldier's neck,
And then dreams he of cutting foreign throats,
Of breaches, ambuscadoes, Spanish blades,
Of healths five-fathom deep; and then anon
Drums in his ear, at which he starts and wakes,
And being thus frighted swears a prayer or two
And sleeps again. This is that very Mab
That plats the manes of horses in the night,
And bakes the elflocks in foul sluttish hairs,
Which once untangled, much misfortune bodes:
This is the hag, when maids lie on their backs,
That presses them and learns them first to bear,
Making them women of good carriage:
This is she--

ROMEO
Peace, peace, Mercutio, peace!
Thou talk'st of nothing.

MERCUTIO
True, I talk of dreams,
Which are the children of an idle brain,
Begot of nothing but vain fantasy,
Which is as thin of substance as the air
And more inconstant than the wind, who wooes
Even now the frozen bosom of the north,
And, being anger'd, puffs away from thence,
Turning his face to the dew-dropping south.


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