So, I'm finally taking the initiative to get a job. Yeah, go me.

There's too much to politics. I think that life was easier when it was simple, when people knew how to show understanding and compassion instead of each party's views on tax cuts and abortion. I am aware that I'm running away from politics and that makes me a big, fat, ignorant, stupid prick. I understand that. But right now I really don't care. I'll care when I'm older, when this stuff effects and/or interests me. I know what I like, I don't need to keep track of what my potential future leader likes as well.

... Pfh. Politics.

Anyway, horay for stuff!

I'm the only one awake now, watching men sleep and women dream. I feel like God, like any mother looking upon the faces of her children, and suddenly I find myself missing home.

We're such amazing creatures.

I got a ticket today for speeding.
Now I have man-sized insurance.

Sad days.

Hey there all,

Does anyone even read this anymore? Eh, whatever. I have more fans on facebook, you bastards. Maybe I should be there, talking to the people who listen to me.

.: scoff:.

Anyway, I'm bored in Mrs. Jebb's class after writing a crap inroductory letter to Aspen Elementary and the Ark and stuff. Work is work. This class is crap. Nothing else is new. Maybe I'll have something more productive to say by the time I get to facebook.

There is something that we look for in people, something that we often cannot see with our own eyes. We seek to justify our existence in another person’s actions, whether it is the feeling of their skin against ours, or their lips, or our fingers intertwined, or their words and compliments so softly spoken.

But compliments are just words. Would we feel the loss of a relationship, of the feeling of lips when we never knew them in the first place? Without us, the world would keep spinning, our friends would still have been born, and oceans would continue with their ceaseless switching of tides. There would be no memory of us to miss, and we would be lost within time, within the fold of reality.

We continually trick ourselves into thinking that if we are not accepted, than we are unworthy of life. We reject our bodies and our souls, regurgitating and re-digesting the few pleasant memories that we are granted in order to keep ourselves satisfied with our own lives. In order to exist, in order to function, in order to live, we must first know that we are loved, understood, and acknowledged. All of this, however, is self-deception.

If one could see a world without us, we would see happiness. Our families would smile, as would everyone we ever met. They would go to school, date other people… but there would be no knowledge that we ever existed. Therefore, we would never be mentioned, and we would never be missed.

So, then, who is there to justify that we are alive?
Who decides who is worth how much?

If the knowledge of all else were to disappear, what would be left but our own flesh, our own skin and our own senses? Out of every single you that might exist, the you that exists to your family, the you that exists to everyone you know… there is only one you, and that is the you that is aware of itself in reality. What you are, only you can determine.

Only you have the power to believe that you’re existence is reality.
You are worth of only what you believe yourself to be worthy of.

This is the truth of all things, of all people. We know only ourselves.

There are things that can withstand the test of time; sea turtles, healthy bodies, brass instruments, sofas with life-time guarantees. There are trees, which can live for hundreds of years or more with the right kind of weather and books whose memories stretch on, even after their pages, filled with wisdom and knowledge, have been buried and lost to the tide of their time. Though the music of Bach and Mozart and Beethoven fade from the airwaves, from the shelves of local music stores and from the minds of future generations, as long as one soul remembers their beauty, remembers how they once triumphed over all sounds, how they once captured tones that set this world aflame with passion... they will never truly be gone.

The casualties of time can never be as they once were. Pictures once cherished cannot be recreated on a whim, as those in the photograph have long since died and fed the earth with their bodies and with their ashes. Time moves without pause, time gives life, and being without soul and without hatred, time takes life away.

Cities meant to last millions of years crumble underneath the heat of war. Love notes kept in boxes, once the catcher of tears, once the cherished memento of some wounded heart who's name is forever lost, eventually turn to dust. But lives, nameless and faceless as they eventually become, as long as they are not taken into Time's merciless tempest, will never be far from the hearts that once knew them.

People say that money, though all people own it, carry the most germs of all things that one might carry in ones pocket. Money is touched with unwashed hands and then given to hands that, heaven forbid, might also have gone unwashed. Though, this catharsis is meaningless, as people still consider a dollar bill found on the street to be 'lucky'. Perhaps, one might think, the money needs to be run over many different times, dropped through many different pockets and be switched between many different unwashed hands in order to get to where it is needed. And perhaps all things, not just people, have destinies of their own.

All things have destinies. All things must either live, or they must die, though they all, eventually, die. Love notes and the cities that once prompted poetry cease to exist. But what of the poetry? What of the Iliad that spoke of the fall of Troy?

Though shoes may be lost on the run to the border, the idea of freedom will never be far behind. Photographs of those who have met the great sleep may burn away or be ripped and fade, but the lives they once lived will not be forgotten.

Things once loved may fall prey to Time's pitiless current, may be dropped into the deepest of oceans, may slip into gutters or into unwashed hands, may tarnish, may weaken, may decay, may die... but that love that once kept it polished, alive, will always wash up onto some sandy shoreline, or find you at the bottoms of jewelry boxes.

Is it so bad, to not want to take advantage of kindness?

I hate myself today.

"You can always do more."

"They will hate you."


Those words bit me so hard.

It's so easy to say, because you don't believe in Him.

But I'm so scared...

Hey all.

I never have anything interesting to talk about, but today was fairly interesting.

I went to take pictures of Landscapes for Knight, and on my way to get my cellphone from my house I stumbled across Daniel Chang and Mack Harris. They, apparently having nothing else important to do, agreed to cart me around to look for pretty things to take pictures of.

We found this really awesome view of a canyon, but the fense around it was too high, so Daniel allowed me to get ontop of his van to get a good picture. He even put up with my constant whining about how high up I was, and risked me falling through the flimsy metal roof. Then Mack had to help me down.

It was weird, normally I'm not afraid of heights.


Lately, I've noticed something about my life and the lives of others. I see families around me breaking apart. My friends are hating their parents, worrying about how they look, who they're not holding hands with, and how poor they're going to be.

I've realized how sad the world has become. I missed the bliss of ignorance today. I missed having no worries, nothing to fight over, nothing the run over in my mind. I want to swing on monkey bars without worrying about blisters, climb fearlessly with no knowledge of falling.

I miss it so much.

And I'm bored out of my F-ing mind. I wish I could sleep...

Didn't it?

It seems like not too long ago we were celebrating this same tradition.

Estimiation? It feels like maybe... five months.

A lot have happened this year, but one thing is for sure. I will remain true to who I am. I will resolve to love and care for without prejuduce or previous acquaintance, and to not be so picky when it comes to new things.

This year is bound to be great, as well as the next, as well as the next.


Let all acquaintance be forgot
And never come to mind...

So, everyone's reaction to Sexyback: "I didn't know it left."

Everyone's reaction to Deja Vu?: "Wow, what the hell just happened?"

This movie, all in all, was great. The characters were intreguing, and despite the seriousness of the movie in general, they had their humorous moments. Basically, the movie is about an ATF guy named Doug Karline (Denzel) who is investigating the terrorist bombing of a boat carrying members of the navy who have just arrived back to America along with their families and children. Shortly after, he is offered a job at a branch working for CSI. He accepts, only to find that the new technology that is supposedly 'satalite feed' is actually a time portal, seeing directly four days into the past. Denzel soon hatches a plan to try and stop what has already happened from happening, by affecting the past directly.

So, really, I left out a lot of stuff, like Denzel's crazy obsession with the woman they found in the river and why she's connected to the boat bombing. Plus Denzel's partner and why his death affects him signing onto this branch of CSI... but, you'll have to watch the movie and find all that out.

The moral of the movie is thatyou can change one thing in time, but you cannot change everything, like throwing a rock into the Mississippi. It won't change it's course, but it'll cause a few ripples. An alternate reality theory that I had never quite heard before.

In other words, a very good movie. Watch it!

"McDonalds's primary mascots are a clown, a politician with a burger for a head, a bird who can't fly, a kleptomaniac, and a purple thing of unidentifiable origin."
-Adam True-Jello

And it's so true...

Today, a thousand babies will be born. A thousand mothers will hold those babies, and through sweat and fatugue they'll be smiling.

( Watching the news, I can't help but think... )

Sometimes, at night, I hear the lambs screaming.

Life is a series of loves and losses, trials and outcomes. Sometimes, the outcome may not be the best of the possible outcomes... but pain teaches us something, and if anything it teaches that there is both a death and a rebirth... there's a dark side, but there is a brighter side, a greener pasture on the other side of a very large fence...

Sometimes, it's hard to get over the fence, but the want to reach a greener pasture seperates the tragedies from the miracles.

Nothing is impossible to do, whether it be overcoming rape, or family problems, depression or the stress of everyday life. We may loose ourselves in the pain, or the hurt, or the memory... and we may forget that that pasture is just atop the fence. But hope is all around us, have we the mind to search for it.

Never forget it. Keep it close to you and and your heart. Remember that beneath these folds of broken wings, there may be new feathers waiting to grow, if only you'd let them. Remember that you have legs and arms to climb, and that you have teeth to bite and arms to embrace. However large your fence may be, the hope of that greener pasture, once you feel it, is the brightest emotion you may ever experience. That's worth searching for... isn't it?

Nothing too horribly interesting. Just a sad thought I suddenly had.

This is so totally emo...

( Why did I name him John? )