A Weekend That I Will Never Ever Forget.

This week was fascinating. I cannot explain to you how much this entire weeks means to me. Especially the last three days. I have been spending a lot of time with a beautiful person named Miranda Grigg. The time we have spent together of the weekend and this week has really helped me in a lot of ways that I don't think need to be talked about on here.

Today at dinner we had me and my mother's birthday dinner and we had hamburgers, hotdogs, and Casey Dip. Don't ask me why it is named that or how it got named that and please don't ask me what it is because I don't know. I don't know a lot of things.

Anyway, tonight when we had our butterfinger dessert with the candles on top and all that stuff, my mother and I leaned in a blew out the candles together and it was very magical. The light from the sparkler and all of those candles made me want to cry. Not the kind of cry where you lean on someone's shoulder, but the kind of crying when you know that someone is leaning on yours, and you feel important, and needed.

I had Miranda over for dinner because I really wanted her to meet my family. I haven't wanted a lot of people to do that and not because I am ashamed of my family, which I'm not, but because that no one has mattered so much in my life. I do not know why I am telling you this.

Tonight I am listening to the album Not Quite Yours by this band named Barcelona. The initial reason for my want to listen to this album is because it is quiet, and it is almost one in the morning. But after listening to it once through I am finally starting to understand all the words he is saying and their meanings. I am starting to understand everything. It is like my mind has finally been untangled and everything is going where it should be and it all makes sense. God is real, love is real, my family is eternal, and whoever I choose to start my new little family with in the future will be eternal. No more time for what-ifs, you guys. There just isn't anytime to waste worrying about things that can't be resolved. I know now that there really is a reason for me going to high school and for everything else. I can't wait for my mission, and I can't wait to get home from it either. I want the experience everything that life has to throw at me. I'm not sad anymore. Or angry or anything but happy. I hope it will last forever.

Sadness or Euphoria

This may be the worst idea I have ever had. I think I've lost it. You know, like all the way. Like, "send him to the nut house! That's where he has always belonged!" I get scared a lot, you know? Like I get scared that I am going to fail math, and I get scared that my girlfriend doesn't really care about me, and I get scared that I will be a failure in this life. I'll hit a brick wall, turn around, sit down and lean against it just like everyone else. Meanwhile, the real hard workers and fastening their grappling hooks and scaling the wall like it's nothing. I think if I had any reason to get over this wall then maybe I would getting one of those fancy grappling hooks too. Take this metaphor how you will, but either way I'm not doing too hot.

Ah, the clogging of thoughts. What a wondrous human capability. To be able to suddenly influence a human to go blank in the mind. Whilst they are writing, speaking or whatever. Every human knows how to do this, even to themselves. What a gift.

I don't HAVE to go to school tomorrow, I GET to go to school tomorrow. You don't HAVE to answer the door, you GET to answer the door.

I'm a bunch of jumbled up thoughts.

Here's this:

What a cool guy

He thought he was pretty fly

But in the end he knew he'd die

Because we all die.

Was that pretty good? I thought so. I made that up, right off the bat, right now, at 11:45 pm on Tuesday night, Russell Aaron Keele produced that somewhat mediocre piece of poetry. It took me about a minute. No, maybe forty-five seconds.

One time, my brother Daniel and I were in our bathroom getting ready for bed and my mom yells "Go to bed already!" and, with the usual reply, we both somewhat in sync say, "hold on a sec.!" My mom replies, "I don't want any more secs.!" Oh man, what a funny happening. Get it? Because it sounded like "sex." If it was your mom, you'd be laughing just as hard as I was.

So I heard rumors that Neil Armstrong would tell really crappy jokes about the moon and then when nobody laughed he'd say "ah, I guess you just had to be there." HOW FREAKING FUNNY IS THAT.

Okay, I'll admit, I'm a loser. I've been obsessed with the same girl for nearly three years, and she still sometimes put screwdrivers in my head. Yes, Erin-Taylor Thomas, I am talking about you. 

Well, now that I've just totally screwed any whatever I had with Erin, I am off. I hope you enjoyed this pointless and humorless post. Have a good night, and stay gold.

- A Guy

No Matter What.

Man, I get sad too much. I can't even help it. I know of one cure, but that isn't coming around for a long time. Maybe it never will. I don't really have motivation to do anything, so I sit down and I complain to who ever the crap is reading my crappy blog posts and for what? I have like two readers daily. (Whom I thank very much.) And the one person. The one person I want to read these stupid and endless paragraphs won't even give me the time of day. They won't say hi to me, unless of course, I confront them first. But I suppose that that may just well be the only really high quality way to get anywhere. I sit and wait a lot. Don't expect me to change just because I say this, because certainly do not practice what I preach. Not to say that I am not a man of my word, because I am. I am just a hypocrite. And maybe, just maybe, that is where my real sadness is from. Maybe because I am untruthful to myself I get discouraged because if I can't keep a promise to myself, then how in the world am I suppose to keep a promise to anyone else?

I have a terribly heavy inclination to swear and do awful things of late. I do not know why. Idle hands cause suffering I suppose. Not to say that I have done these things of whatever you can imagine, but I have had terrible struggles resisting anything that seems even half appealing. I don't even care about the future anymore. I get by, and that's it. I get c's and b's, and I'm okay. But what I am not okay with is being like everyone else. I need to work on that, but somewhere in me there is some kind of compass and spirit telling me to do something productive and to support myself. I just don't feel like it. It's embarrassing because a lot of times I will look very stupid and under educated to a person of higher knowledge. They don't even give me a chance. Depending on the way I am dressed that day, they will either completely shun me, or accept me as some clean perfect kind of person that I'm not. Teenage rebellion isn't what I am getting at. Man, rebellion is such a stupid thing. But it's all I do. I am stupid, stupid, stupid. Somebody read this and realize that what I am saying is true. I honestly believe everything I say about myself. I know exactly what I am supposed to do, and I know exactly what I shouldn't do, but I just don't feel like doing either. I suppose you could say that I am gray, but I don't believe in that color. There is definitely a good and a bad. But distinguishing the two is not an easy task. I am not an experienced body in this. I'm not good at a lot of things and the things I think I am good at turn out to be things that I am just okay at.

Sometimes I will go through all the people I admire and look at their pictures on facebook. Look, I'm not talking about Kobe Bryant or Justin Pierre. I'm talking about people that I interact with every day at the building where I get educated. I look at their pictures and all I can notice is how pretty and happy they all are. Boys and girls. They are all so outrageously happy. Every single one of them. Why can't I be apart of that? I try so hard. Everyday. I know that being happy or being sad is a choice or whatever, but I honestly try everyday  to be as happy as them. To sustain a normal smile, even when I am on my lonesome. No matter what I do, whether I play drums, hang out with friends, play guitar, sleep, or anything really, I just can't sustain it. My happiness comes in little bursts and when I'm alone or even stalled at all, it goes away. At any moment in time my whatever emotion will just go away. I don't know what true happiness lies in. I've been searching for a long time. I'm sick of hiding and I'm sick of living with this dirt in my mouth. I'm sick of being dried up all the time. But what am I going to do about it? Nothing. Like a stagnant moth being drawn to the flame, I will never be free. But I will tell you one thing, I have found something to love. But love is a dangerous thing. Love comes and goes. No matter what. I believe in eternal marriage, but I don't believe in life after love. Let's pretend you get married and your wife/husband dies. I couldn't live. Oh man. Game over. No way could I live with that. Even if I was like in my late twenties or something, I would never remarry.

Sorry for being depressing and boring today. But it's how I'm getting. I don't know why but it's happening. So I'll deal I guess. I gotta deck of jokers and I can't wait to use them.

What happens in the dark will be brought to the light.

She Understands

It's 5:45 pm and it's almost perfect dark outside. Utah darkens very quickly this time of the year(s) and I think there my be specific reasons for it. I mean, besides moving farther from the sun. More of a kind of pathos type of deal. Not logos. Am I being heard? Probably not, my voice is little.

I went and saw my second favorite band last night. They were crazy. Like hot dang. They tore me to pieces. Streetlight Manifesto is a crazy band. Very good live. They left a piercing ring in my ears. Whenever there isn't any constant noise louder than the ringing, it sits there and screams all day long. I can still hear it and I was at the concert nearly twenty-four hours ago.

I don't know about myself. I wouldn't consider myself a happy person, but I'm depressed. I don't think so, at least. Maybe I'm apathetic. But self proclaiming that you are apathetic is always false because how can you be apathetic when you are claiming to have an emotion? When I am bored I come up with bottomless questions that have no answers. Is there a name for those? I don't know. Like this: Where did the rocks come from? My dad asked me that question. I guess you could say that God made it, but he didn't just clap three times and had some stuff appear. He had to get it from somewhere. Anyway, I am going to stop talking about this before I offend someone or maybe even myself.

You know, I try pretty hard. I get treated like a lazy, useless, teenage fool that doesn't contribute (or try to contribute) at all. And suppose that I was a lazy, useless, teenage fool who doesn't contribute (or try to contribute) at all. Could every single being reserve the right to treat me so? I don't think that I am lazy or useless and I try pretty hard to contribute. I don't know about the rest of my fellow teenagers, but I feel pretty under appreciated. Gosh, I am such a baby. I'm trying to derive some emotion from something other than the main base. Man, these zurg rushes are harsh.

I wonder what kind of voice I have. My English teacher enjoyed it in the paper I wrote for her class. Cool. I'm sick of being a part of something no one likes.

It's even darker now. It's 11:16. You know I never split up a writing session like this. It feels weird. A different mood maybe. I went and hung out with Miranda Grigg tonight. We went and saw my school's musical for the year "Hello Dolly." This is the second time I have seen the play now, and it just gets better.

Miranda and I have some pretty good talks. Sometimes I start yelling because I feel really strongly about things, not to be confused with anger, and she starts laughing and I feel silly. But she understands. Not many people of this planet do.

Well, love has driven another nail through my heart on this lovely night. Another quart of blood spilled, you know, NBD.

Gosh gilly gag. My life is like a fart. One of those really dry ones that don't really mean anything. :I

I'm stuck. I get stuck a lot, don't I? Ha.

Tonight I was telling my parents that earlier I had a lactose reaction to rollos, and my mom said "there isn't any lactose stuff in rollos." So I continued to shut my mouth and all in all cancel my story telling. I miss Miranda. And a few other people. Let's have a reunion. With you by my side, (you know who you are..) I could sit foreeeever. I'm slowly opening and releasing these weird hints as to where my real sadness comes from and it's scaring me. The world will know.

My mom just said "oh my gosh, it's eleven thirty. We gotta go to bed. It's eleven thirty." Haha. Why is that funny? I don't know. What happened to this potentially well written post? I dunno. ha ha ha.

If I correct your grammar, don't take it personally.
xoxo

Let's Break It Down.

A lot of things freak me out. Like being a "class" or being everyone's equal. I mean, for goodness sake, I don't care if I'm worse than everyone else. Just make me different. Because I guess I don't know how. I'm trying to take the high road but according to everyone around me that makes me full of myself and cocky. I just want the world to be able to understand my brain. Selfish? Yes. I can feel the sanity draining out of my skull and making a deep puddle underneath me. My shoes are wet and heavy but if I take them off I'll burn. Here's a poem:

The newest thing is already old.

They honestly expect us to do what we're told?

That like telling someone not to be cold

when all they wanted was something to hold.

This poem is cliche

like everything I ever dreamed.

A bunch of repeat signs.

I try hard not to hit replay.

But alas, time is time.

And your dream has been dreamed.

Like rain on the ground,

it just gets cycled around.

I'm embarrassed. I've never shared any of my personal writings. I might delete this. Maybe not. Here's another I guess. I don't know what to say.

Just the other day I was pulled outta class.

My teacher says "Are you in the right place? Do you think you can pass?"

And I said "Yes, ma'am, I feel that I am."

After long lecture from her claiming how smart I'm not,

we went back the class like nothing happened.

I am just another bubble in the boiling pot.

Waiting to pop.

The sun is a light to show you the way.

In fact, I used it

Just the other day.

Um, so I feel awkward now. I've never done that before. Neither of those are very good, I don't think. But like I said, not everything can be a masterpiece. 

I've discovered through trial and error that through trial and error you will find almost any answer ever. It took me a long while to realize that everything my father had said is true. The only way to get good is to be crappy and face your fears. This world is a series of walls. No doors, no holes. You chose what wall the climb, and you climb it. Once you get over that one, there is probably be another. High school is a wall. Relationships are walls. Insanity and depression are big, big walls. Big, smooth, waxy walls. 

I want to say something to a certain person. She probably won't read this or even look at the facebook post about it, but I don't really care. Cause this certain person can't do anything to make me angry. Ever. I don't think the she can comprehend what goes through my mind when she is brought into context. My brain becomes and melting pot of insanity and fire. It's like someone sends spurs deep into the back of my thighs until I fall and I can't get up. I've been lying here for a while now, and I think it's time to get up.

Well guys, I'm pretty scared to post this. I guess it's time to face the truth. Man, this sucks.

Untitled

A long time.

I don't think I am from earth. Maybe like the 39th death world or something. (Tell me if you caught the reference and I'll high five you or something.) Really though, I know and believe that there is a higher being above us that guides us and stuff, but I need something to latch onto. I need somewhere to be from. I guess you could say that i am from the central coast of California, but I never really knew it. My brothers and sisters say that Orcutt is boring and a dump, but I don't think of it that way because all I knew it as was a haven for my friends and me.

I think the music I try to write has already been written and whole idea of being obsessed with space has been experienced before. Specifically by these people:

Kid Cudi and Neil Armstrong have done more than I could imagine doing in my fields of interest. I don't reall know how to be fresh, and I definitely don't know even the first thing about astrophysics. Everything is so confusing to me. I just want to be able to understand things. Like astrophysics. And how to be fresh. Yeah.

I don't really know what to write anymore. I'm sorry. This whole blog thing is turning into me posting pictures and songs that will express my feelings because I am really bad at it. Ask any of my ex-girlfriends. I ain't lyin'.

I'm such garbage ha ha ha. Oh well. I guess I'll reach my potential someday.

I am honestly sad about not going on tour. All my friends are going to have a ballin' time in California and I'm going to be at school alone erryday. I don't have anyone else, really. No one that really knows me like them. Oh well. It's only five days, right?

So I have this cousin named Nick Campbell. He is really cool. He is probably my best friend. Tyler Romney and Nick Campbell. I've known Nick forever and it's really surprising how sick or each other we aren't.

Nick is really really good at drawing. I try my very best to copy him, but I just can't do it. He has the style of a god. I swear he can pull off anything. I can hardly pull off jeans.

Tyler is a different kind of human, but he is my human. I think that he can say, (unless he is being rude to me that day) that I pretty much own him. And he owns me. But nowadays he has a girlfriend and unavoidably spends all of his time with her. He gets more girls than me. I think everyone does. Oh well.

I want to be good at things. And I think it's going to be a long time until I do. If you read my other blogs, I mentioned some things that I wanted to accomplish in life and I think I have added more to the list. Besides being a physicist, baseball player, horse jockey and professional drummer, I think it would be very interesting and fun to be a hip hop artist or even a disk jockey for one. Not like rave music though. Like real hip hop. Hits the heart. "Hip Hop Can't Stop." That's a playlist on my iPod in case you were wondering. Cool.

Anyway, I'm done ranting. Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a good rest of whatever you are living.
Stay fresh.
xoxo