Stages Monday, Mar 31 2008

Five.
When you’re five years old, don’t trust Kyle and Kipton when they say you can ride a bike without training wheels…you’ll fall and skin your knees so deep that the blood is almost purple and end up with huge scars on both of your knees.

Six.
When you’re six years old, watch out for the metal pan at the bottom of the treehouse stairs, you’ll step on it and hit your kneecaps. It’ll hurt, too. You won’t cry, but you’ll bleed a lot and have funny looking scars a month later.

Seven.
When you’re seven years old, don’t try to jump off the roof with a paper bag thinking you can fly, it doesn’t work out, I promise.

Eleven.
When you’re eleven years old, its tempting, but don’t keep piercing your ears. You’ll pierce them almost all the way up and then take them all out a month later to start gauging your ears. Just don’t do it. You probably shouldn’t start gauging your ears, either, it gets really addicting and you won’t be able to stop.

Twelve.
When you’re twelve years old, don’t invite Malee to your birthday party, she’ll ruin it by being a loner all night and making everyone feel really awkward.

Thirteen.
When you’re thirteen years old, you’re in middle school and a cute older boy will like you, stay away from Cody at all costs. It doesn’t end up good at all and you’ll feel really stupid later on.

Fourteen.
When you’re fourteen years old, whatever you do, DO NOT start hanging out with Kira. Forget that she ever gave you her number. She turns out to be a real douche bag that everyone hates and will try bringing you down with her.

Fifteen.
When you’re fifteen years old, don’t lose your virginity. Its tempting, you’re curious, and since you love Ian, you go against your morals and do it anyways, but don’t. Something happens from it that will haunt you both for the rest of your life.

Sixteen.
When you’re sixteen years old, you’ll get a job at Cold Stone. Its fun at first, but it will suck you in and shitty things will happen. Not only does your body start hurting really bad after a year, but you’ll also get rumours started about you hooking up with your manager…and he gets questioned by the cops. Find a different job.

Seventeen.
When you’re seventeen years old, you’ll start getting really really confused about things. School, love, life, jobs, everything. It will start bringing you further and further down. You need to stay strong during this time. It will eat at everything you have left for yourself.

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I Hate This Song Monday, Mar 31 2008

Wow, another day.

Wake up to my alarm, turn it off, and sleep another hour, which makes me late…as usual. Force myself out of bed, step on my sister who is sleeping on my floor, and blind myself by turning on the light. Rummage through piles and piles of clothes that I’m too lazy to put away and pull out something that looks like what I wore the million other days of the year. Black and white, if you don’t know what kind of person I am. I usually only wear black and white. Didn’t feel like showering, I did yesterday. I’m over it. Brush my hair, make it look somewhat decent, go downstairs, get poptarts and a water bottle, and head out.

Yay! Good ‘ol Columbia. I hate school, I’m so sick of it. I have to force myself to come. *Fifty nine days until graduation, fifty nine days until graduation, fifty nine days until graduation.* Ugh. I texted Scott to tell him to let the teacher know “I’m working on it”…which means I’m walking as slow as possible, stalling, because I’m already late anyways. Get to class, see Jason, my day just got horrible. It was pretty shitty to start with (as is everyday when I have to wake up at 7am), but now its definitely shitty. I hate it. Plus, I’ve been sick for a week and a half, so being in class, right now…not exactly a thriller. Sick, Jason, back hurts, neck hurts, and bored - most definitely not a good mixture. But, what can you do, I guess.

I don’t know what’s in store for me the rest of the day. More classes (yay!…), work, then Maddi is picking me up early from work. That should improve my mood a bit, I hope. I don’t know, though, she was crying all day yesterday, so it might be a vent session from her to me tonight…probably not a mood bringer-upper.

Scott is texting me, trying to make me feel better, giving me ideas on what to do. I feel so lame today, ugh. Knowing me, I’ll just put on a fake smile and get through this day…until I have this class again and this same process repeats.

I’m hungry, too, what the fuck. Those poptarts did not do justice.

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“I’ve Never Seen A Smile Sunday, Mar 30 2008

that could light up the room, like yours.”

Have you ever met someone like that? They walk into a room and smile and it lights up the entire room. Doesn’t matter why they’re smiling, how big they’re smiling, or who they’re smiling at. That one smile lights up that entire damn room. You can’t help, but to smile back equally big (or small?). Its like a chain reaction. One smile can change the mood set in any situation. If you’ve seen a smile like this, you know exactly what I’m talking about. Its wonderful. I always ponder why this happens. Why the pearly whites of one person can put you in the greatest mood possible. Its something I’ve always been intrigued by.

(this blog is kind of random, basically what I’m feeling/thinking, right now)

In four days, my life is going to change and I cannot wait. Seriously, I am going crazy. That intense butterfly feeling, can’t eat, can’t sleep, can’t think. I am so excited, so nervous, so anxious, so nautious. All of the above. Its driving me absolutely insane. Nate is coming home in four days. He has been gone for over six months. The past month has been wonderful for me. I’ve gotten so close to him, I don’t remember anything that happened with him and I before this past month. All I know is that I cannot wait for him to come home. I’ve never been this excited for anything in my life.

There’s a massive beer pong tournament going on approximately ten feet to my right. A bunch of drunken friends and family arguing over the judge’s ruling. Its ridiculous, really. I hate beer pong and everything to do with drinking, for that matter. Earlier, my brother, sister-in-law, and nephew were over. My nephew is a few months past a year old…and both parents were playing. This is something that really bugs me. Hello, your child is carelessly roaming around and you’re throwing a ping pong ball into a plastic cup of alcohol? It gets under my skin extremely bad. I just really hate drinking, in general, and the people who are doing it. I hate being around it, hearing about it, anything to do with it. I think its selfish, disrespectful, and weak.

My aunt never shuts her mouth when she’s drunk, or when she’s sober, for that matter. Right now, she’s talking about her sweater. Oh wait, now its about hair. Apparently, she and Sarah have too long of hair? And they sit on it…? I have no idea what’s going on. All I know, is that I can hear my aunt’s voice over anything and everything.

“I don’t want your balls!” Dear Lord. Save me.

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Shit, Shit, and more Shit Saturday, Mar 29 2008

I’ve been extremely irritable the past few days, or past two weeks? Yeah, that’s more like it. This is basically one big FUCK YOU to just about everything that’s pissed me off recently. Whether its happened directly to me, or someone close to me.

Starting at the top, I guess.

What the hell kind of person feeds you lies, upon lies, and makes you feel really good, then completely contradicts themselves? You talk to someone everyday for awhile and things are awesome, then they just stop. From the get-go, this person claims that you’re “not another number on their list” and really make you believe that you’re not, then DAMN, what do you know!? Oh shit, you’re another number. They get what they want and peace out. Not that I’m pointing fingers, or anything, but apparently, I was number sixty-one.

Work, fuck work. Fuck Cold Stone and everything about this place. The people I work for and the people I serve. Seriously, first off, your goddamn six year old DOES NOT need a gotta have it size, its too damn big. Why would you let your kid lick the sneezguards? Are you stupid? They have that name for a reason, I hope your kid gets a disease and starts rotting from the inside out. Don’t order something, then tell me you want a replacement mix-in, AFTER I’ve already put the original in. If you’re going to order more than one of the same thing, tell me at the same time, so I can make them together, ESPECIALLY if it includes peanut butter. Also, don’t be friends with a co-worker who has higher power than you, that’s all I have to say about that. Oh yeah, and fuck your cakes. I’m sick of decorating impossible shit for you and not getting shit in return. You just bought a $30 cake, tip me a dollar at least you stuck up piece of shit. I had to ice my wrist for an hour after finishing a cake order, the bitches didn’t give me shit for it. They took it and left. FUCK YOU, TOO!

DON’T tell someone you love them, then completely contradict everything that the word consists of. Hellooooo, do you know what love is, you shitbag? That doesn’t mean you lay there with someone, tell them you love them, then ignore them for a week (while also being an asshole about everything). What the fuck is that? Figure out what it really means, before you say it.

Make sure you know who you’re talking about, before you talk about them. If you go to strip clubs and decide to talk about how big of whores the girls are to a friend, make sure that friend ISN’T friends with the stripper, first! Actually, fuck that, the proper name is DANCER and don’t talk shit unless you know the story. Did it ever occur to you pussy-driven dickheads that maybe some of those girls don’t even want to dance for your money? Did it ever occure to you that maybe their life is a little bit more complex than yours that they have to dance for your shitbag self to get by? Yeah, exactly. Don’t talk to me about dancers, fuck off.

Dude, people sleep. Don’t constantly text someone bitching because they haven’t texted you back. Hello, dipshit, its 3am, I’d like to sleep and really, as much as I pretend to give a shit, I really don’t care what you have to say, anyways. There’s a few, rare, people that I will wake up to talk to at 3am, and odds are, it isn’t you. Get over it and leave me alone. Oh, also, some of us work, don’t expect instant responses all the fucking time. Chill your shit out and unfuck yourself, then we’ll talk.

Don’t make a promise so someone who cares more about you than life itself, that you’ll do something…then not fucking hold your word. If there’s someone who cares about you so much, they literally make themselves sick over it, don’t promise them you won’t get drunk three or four times a week…then do it three nights in a row. Its called a little respect.

For God’s sake, stop stalking people. If you dated a guy and he has a new girlfriend, don’t think that their business is your business. He moved on, maybe you should, too. Don’t stalk his new girlfriend, seriously. I don’t mean looking at her myspace and seeing who she is, I mean literally, finding EVERYTHING out about this girl and literally going out to find her just to see what she does, where she goes, who she’s with, etc. Its creepy. Stop. I don’t care how in love with this guy you are or were, fucking stop.

Hmm…

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Prince of Pain Saturday, Mar 22 2008

I’m not a guy, so obviously, I can’t be a prince, but this is how I feel, lately - 

Well, how could I forget the years that I regret, letting you break me. Use love as an excuse to conquer and abuse and overtake me. So, I need to leave.

There’s times that I have felt like I had never dealt with the things that were killing me. And I find a place to hide, to leave my fears behind, but they seem to always find me. So, I need to leave.

So, don’t leave the light on ’cause I’ll be long gone. I’m no longer the prince of pain. So, don’t leave the light on ’cause I’ll be long gone and I’ll never turn around again.

And all these wasted days, I could never find a way, to leave this GOD FORSAKEN TOWN. Well, I found a way this time, to leave the lights behind, ’til I find a way to turn them down…again.

So, don’t leave the light on ’cause I’ll be long gone. I’m no longer the prince of pain. So, don’t leave the light on ’cause I’ll be long gone and I’ll never turn around again.

I’m trading in my crown, this time I won’t look down.  I keep on looking straight ahead, this time. I’m trading in my crown, this time I won’t turn around, ’til I take what’s mine.

So, don’t leave the light on ’cause I’ll be long gone. I’m no longer the prince of pain. So, don’t leave the light on ’cause I’ll be long gone and I’ll never turn around again.

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It Was A Sunday Wednesday, Mar 19 2008

Giving, taking, and everything in between.

As people, human beings, and separate connected hearts - we strive for acceptance, love, care, attention, and all those little things that keep you up at night. Which, actually aren’t that little. We need contact with other bodies, other words to mix and tangle with our own and when we do that, we’re giving. They’re taking. They’re giving. We’re taking. The cycle that was born in our blood. No, not our blood, our hearts.

What about a person makes you want to give them something? Give them anything? Everything? Nothing? Is it the way they talk to you. The little smile they flash when they need attention, the attention they don’t get? What about their shell approves them? Makes them worthy to share something of yours with them? Even if its something small; a drink of water, some chap-stick, extra pocket change - to think of the intensity in that. Of taking something from your life and passing it on. Like a perfect disease, spilling over our lifespan onto someone else’s. Something they may forget, something they may remember.

I think it says a lot about who you are. Not necessarily if you are a good person, or a bad person, or what kind of person you are at all, but just how much you can give and how much giving you can take.

I think the thought process is amazing; the split decision to share a piece of you with someone, or to not. To share something like breath or kisses. To put yourself into them and depend on their next action, their next word. That is really giving. Giving yourself and taking them in.

That is really a big part of the world, of life. Giving and taking. Giving and giving. Taking and giving. Taking and taking. Without the constant space of another person’s breath, without the filled voids of words and bodies, without the exchange of life - we’d just be blood and bones.

Giving and taking, dependency on life, is it what we’re here for?

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At Five O’Clock in the AM Sunday, Mar 16 2008

I woke up sick and depressed on a park bench, today.

My arms and feet were freezing,
my eyes were dry and broken,
and I barely stood anymore.

You breezed by,
your footsteps met with my
LAZINESS.

I could BARELY exchange
                                        consonants and vowels.

I COULD HARDLY AFFORD A HANDSHAKE.

Slowly,
I have learned that I do not
want to harbor these feelings,
these fleeting feelings of compassion
……minus the passion.

Assignments lingered,
I stayed up all night discoursing
with myself the brief pauses,
the brief period of when our
                                                   CONSONANTS and VOWELS
danced with each other in
a rich, philanthropic manner.

The kind usually reserved for
                                     KINGS.

It was there that I could read the manual to your slowly
regrowing heart, where you left me and unveiled to me the
most profound of intamacies, along with the most reckless
abandonments of meaning, the skin, with no flesh left behind.

All I ask for, all I beg for, is another glimpse.

I have started climbing and one day,
DARLING,                 I will make it.

One day,
I will make it to the top of that wondrous mountain
that you have set out in front of me.

THAT FINAL BURDEN.
THAT FINAL CHALLENGE.

But as my feet begin to climb, as my heart begins to race,
I realize that with each new expression on that unrelenting face,
that I have never - nor will I ever - want or need
the extremities that lie within your              outstretched fingers.

I will never have to fight against rocks and
boulders and the sun tamed earth
EVER AGAIN.

I realize that these beautiful episodes,
the sun, the snow, the condensation on my cup
as I am staring blankly at your picture
                                         AT FIVE O’CLOCK IN THE AM.

And it becomes painfully clear to me that under
the blanket of the night sky, that same ever expansive
sky, that you proclaimed would watch our bodies touch 
                    in the most intimate of manners.

Under those same stars,
those same constellations,
I awoke with such a fright.

One more and more
VIVID
than had ever been experienced by beast or by man.

I awoke with visions of antlers and
                                                   remainders.

It was under these twinkling witnesses that the
blood from my veins began to pour itslef out of my body,
the pain that was naturally ensued,
was nowhere to be found.

And as I lay there in the grass and dirt,
I watched every ounce of passion drift 
                                                  carelessly away from me.

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I Don’t Understand Friday, Mar 14 2008

There’s a lot of things I really don’t understand, but the biggest of them all - death.

I’m not scared of death in any way, shape, or form. I know that God has a set time for us all to go, but I know he doesn’t have a set way. All I want to know, is why would he choose three people in one week that I knew? It all seems really odd to me.

I was talking to a friend of mine just yesterday afternoon about this all. We were talking about how random it was for the first two. Two really nice people, who had families, who no one would have EVER expected to go as soon as they did. And just hours later, another one? Someone even more random.

I found out this morning that someone I use to be really close to shot himself last night. Over a fucking high school relationship. He cheated on her, she broke up with him, he tried to call her, she ignored him, he killed himself. How selfish could you possibly be? He was such a great guy. He always had a smile on his face and was always in a good mood. He could bring anyone up, if they were down. He had so many friends and everyone loved him. This is the last thing anyone would have EVER expected from him, its not like him at all.

I know death happens each and everday, but why so randomly? And for three to happen in one week to someone? I really don’t understand in the least. I also don’t understand how someone who came off so happy, could hold back so much emotion, enough to make him kill himself.

The worst part of it all, I don’t even remember the last thing I said to him, except that we needed to hang out, which will never happen again.

I don’t want your sympathy from this. For God’s sake, DON’T tell me you’re sorry. I know you are, but you have no reason to be, its not like it was your fault. All I’m asking is for you to hold anyone and everyone close to you, close. You NEVER know when their time is coming. I know everyone says “oh, this wouldn’t happen to me” or “they’re not going anytime soon” YOU NEVER KNOW, so don’t ever say those things. I said them, now look where I’m at.

Just hold them close. Please.

Gary Wayne Tynes
August 31st, 1990 - March 13th, 2008

“Remember, every moment you spend upset, is a moment of happiness that you’ll never get back. Spend your moments loving, living, and laughing with no regrets. Live for Gary, live for laughter, but mostly, live for the memories.”

UPDATES

Tuesday, March 18th -
I went to Gary’s viewing today. It was one of the most intense days I can say I’ve ever had. I don’t have much to say about it, other than he looked absolutely peaceful. I’ve never seen anyone look so peaceful. Even after seeing him, I can’t seem to grasp the fact that he’s really gone. I can’t.

Wednesday, March 19th -
His funeral was today. I’ve never seen such a huge funeral. There were cars lined up and down a mile-long street. I ended up parking at the end, go figure. I cried the entire walk to the church. I cried when I got in the building. I cried the entire time. Towards the end, his mom and sister went and layed their heads on his coffin, crying. All of his closest friends (including me) all went with them and surrounded Gary in a big group. I’ve never seen so much sadness in one place. I’ve never seen so many tears in my life. It was one of the hardest moments I’ve ever been in. After the church, we all went to the gravesite, and actually…it was fun? As odd as that sounds, it was. It was raining (why does it always rain on funeral days?) All of his friends got close around him and we all sang songs. We sang his favourite songs. Not sad songs, not “I miss you” songs, fun songs. Like White Trash! “Fuck her up, mother fucker, you can kiss my ass!” Haha, good times. That was Gary’s favourite song. We stayed out there for a good hour and a half singing.

Thursday, March 27th -
Its been two weeks and I still can’t process this. I still think I can just call him and talk, or that I’m randomly going to run into him somewhere. I know I won’t, I guess I just refuse to accept this whole thing. Its processing, though. Starting to, at least.

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Inhale:Exhale Wednesday, Mar 12 2008

You think you have something? You think you have it all, right? No substance can betray you. It can only make you feel better. All you think about is wasting your life. There is nothing more wasted in this world, than life. That is all you are doing. I cannot say I have never wasted my life, because I have. I have wasted my youth, wasted my teens, but it wasn’t worth it. Nothing good comes from it. The people around you are not real. They are as fake as you are. They do not want to be your friend. They want to use you.  You want to use them. It is all a pattern, a cycle. You do not see it, because you are so involved and so blinded by what you think is real.

So fun; all wrong.

It will come to such a tragic ending when you stop pretending that you actually like your life. One day, it will hit you and you will fall to your knees wondering why. It won’t happen to everyone, but I feel sorry for those it does happen to. You have no closure. Live night by night and hope to wake up in your own bed, or wake up at all for that matter.

So much drama. So much “he said, she said” bullshit. Do you not realize where it is coming from? How can you not see it when it is right in front of you? I do not understand where you are coming from. You may think you have life all figured out, well, you don’t. Be real for once. Stand back, watch and see what unfolds. It is ridiculous what I see. You should see it, you are involved with it. You are so sucked in that you do not realize the stupidity of it all. I cannot make you see it. You have to learn it.

I hope that one day, it will hit you, and that you will finally understand.

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The Moth Wednesday, Mar 12 2008

Cheers to those with daggers, the mountain of the meek.
They all think they know best, but they have yet to speak.
We’ll get medicated, cause pain is such a drag.
I wanna fight for freedom under a stolen flag.
Everything is made soft, cause the kids can’t take a punch.
What’s there left to own, when the world’s already yours?
And there is just no honor for the men who came before.
Maybe there’s a will, but I think there’s a war.

And I don’t wanna lose my edge this time, cause they all seem ravenous.
And I don’t wanna hurt you all tonight, cause you don’t know me.
The life I chose is a one pound penny and I ask for nothing more.

Cheers to those of violence, the palpitations of my heart.
The loving upper eschalons with nothing to impart.
And I just can’t see any smiles in the dark.
There’s no time for suspense, no wait to see the shark.
I want the clarity of challenge and I’ve been waiting all along
To serenade the hungry with an ever-fasting song.

Well, I may be the tortoise, but thank Christ I’m not the moth.
The flames don’t look so brilliant when its not all you’ve got.

And I don’t wanna lose my edge this time, cause they all seem ravenous.
And I don’t wanna hurt you all tonight, cause you don’t know me.
The life I chose is a one pound penny and…

 I ask for nothing more.

I ask for nothing more.

Call to arms my boy!
Calm the waters, my God!
Go to war… the men with guns.
It’s still raining and I haven’t felt a drop…
This must be my stop.

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