Let's Go Get Some Mt. Dew!!

So now that I've officially lost all my visitors to this site ever, I'm going to write something. Let's see, last weekend was Hot Dog Weekend, despite my earlier post where I thought it was a different week because I lost track of the days, and Bob, his friend AJ, Derek and Nicole came over. It was the pwnz0r weekend because they are all awesome. What else...we got the facebook here. I've had it for about a week. I must say it is very destructive to everything because it's so addictive and it doesn't DO anything! I wish it did something so I wouldn't feel completely worthless when I was on looking at these "friends" I may have met once, or friends of friends I've never met. We played soccer and tied 1-1 yesterday and we have another game tonight. Oh! I talked with a hot girl yesterday, which is a good step forward in the right direction, because usually eye contact is tough, let alone initiating this word play you humans consider talking. Um...I was introduced to this drunken state you party-goers refer to as "being drunk" this weekend. Or maybe I wasn't, for those of you who want to still think of me as Straight edge. Anyways, it was a lot of fun and from now on I'm going to become an alcoholic because it sounds like fun. I just spent several hours writing this 6 page paper for English, and it's alright, but it's due later today and I still have to get Mark's book to put in quotes, because my stupid wench of a teacher likes that we do that with "proper MLA format." Okay, I'll head down to psyche now (or maybe I won't and I'm just messing with you).

more poems

Shadow Boy
by me

"Catch up to your shadow!"
The light plays tricks he cannot understand.
No matter his speed, the shadow is faster.
He can catch everyone else's,
but not his own.
Day after day, his shadow eluded him.
"Keep trying," his parents had always told him
and he trusted their advice.
Strangers wondered at the boy,
and children pointed and giggled,
but he was unphased.
He believes that if he keeps trying,
one day he will get it.

Eulogy for a Boy
by me

His favorite character was Goku.
He had two best friends: Billy and Jake.
He loved sweets and warheads.
During the summer, he played video games
with his two best friends.
He was fat but excited and hyper.
He could talk for hours about his
favourite baseball or hockey team.
He spent hours each day Instant Messaging
and watching television.
He dreamed of being an astronaut and
an actor.
He got into trouble at school, but he meant well.
There are 6.3 billion people on this planet.
Now there are 6.3 billion minus one.

Mirror Man
by me

Nobody knew
he was the most depressed man
to ever live.

He had mirrors everywhere
in his house.
People thought him conceited
and he boasted often,
but he was the biggest failure
to ever live.

Teetering on success,
he never made it,
and no one could find him
an excuse.

He lied to himself often,
making up truths
even he couldn't believe.
One day he realized everything;
on that day he died.

It's time for a poem

Image of Self (or some such title)

You are a commoner,
but your friends call you "unique."
Somehow, you wound up on a ship
and got washed out to sea,
knowing you have a face that's easy
to forget,
and a name that's hard
to remember.

When the sun shines,
the clouds disappear.
Nothing else matters.

When the sun isn't shining
you don't know when it will.
We stay holed up in our living quarters,
hiding from the inevitable.

Sometimes the seas are rough.
As a sailor, it affects you
but not everyone
(not that they matter).

How can they judge you
when you return?
They've been on land continuously
and who knows where you've been?

You may tell them,
and they might listen,
but you are lying
because you have no choice.
We are clouded.

And even though you were gone,
the sea is in the past.
We gaze over the shimmering surface
and see nothing but beauty.

The sun sets.
Children return to their homes.
The streets grow silent.
We have the decision to go back.



So that's a poem I provide to you. I wrote it during English when I was supposed to be discussing some book. It needs a title though. Tell me what ya think and I will give you a cookie. Seriously. I can get them from the dining hall. Some of them are even edible. I'll see if I can get one of those. They have some sugar cookies that aren't bad half the time. Spring is here and it makes me very happy: not just the fact that winter is over, but that there's something in the air that's different and it carries with it a feeling of glee. It's been very warm and sunny lately. Everyone has been outside. I even spent two and a half hours playing ultimate frisbee with some of my compadres and associates. It was good. I also leveled up to 16 today again, woot! And today is good because it's Friday! Recently I had up the away message "I may be on your buddy list, but that doesn't mean you ever talk to me," and it got numerous responses. Pity is the best. Guilt tripping works. I had many people message me and one of them I hadn't talked to ever. I felt clever for instigating so many responses. Elyse said my message was so sad, but actually it's true, and it's true for a lot of people, not just me. Josh has a subheading for his buddies called, "people I know but don't talk to." I told him he could put a lot more people on that list. If I had that title, I would put almost everyone I know on it, and there's a fine line constituting the "almost." If anyone knows a good book to read, tell me, because I need to read some more so I can increase my brain stats and have a vocabulary. I'm pretty sure I used to use words I can't even understand now. The 15 year old me was probably more vocabularily competent, and only slightly less wise, though wisdom is nothing but a series of opinions. Darn it. I'm really thirsty now. Hot Dog Weekend is this weekend. I'm going to bed now. Cheerio!

Indeed, Where Have I Gone??

For all those who've waited patiently for my return, here it is, ephemeral though it may be. Here is my explanation: I gave up. My efforts at informing anyone I don't talk to ceased. I got caught up in my own jumble of trumble. Nothing is new. Life is still life. Details are meaningless when compared with the whole. I lost my room key a while ago. I went bowling. I played some frisbee. I went to some classes. Whatev. The important event of the day is that I will do laundry. There it is. Trespassers will be shot. Survivors will be shot again. Perhaps when inspiration hits me, I'll be ready. 'Till then, adieu.