In Retrospect, Will You Ever Remember Reading This?

I Put Ketchup On My Ketchup

Fri, 27 Apr 2007 00:40:17 GMT

Life is nice. I'm at peace, weird huh?

...What the fuck is juice?

Miles And Miles Of Telephone Poles Fallen And Tossed Around

Wed, 18 Apr 2007 02:46:56 GMT

I think I should take advice, starting with this:
I shouldn't go girl crazy. I should just be the greatest friend possible, because that's what life is about.
Lying is so much easier. But look where that got me.
After reading some books, I'm sort of realizing that maybe I just want her as my sidekick, somebody that can follow me because they haven't figured me out but think that what I'm going through is interesting and that I'm a genuinely unique person.

But still.
Damn it all.

Pardon Me While I Burst Into Flames

Sun, 11 Mar 2007 05:06:36 GMT

Breakdown: over. It's just nice to have talked about it. Normal thoughts are in control again, thank God, and just talking about it made me think about things more. I guess I'm content with just friends. That's what I'm about, just being a good friend. Or at least trying. I stand true to everything I said, though.

Friends.
Hm.

Yeah, I fuckin' ROCKED those SATs. Bitches.

Bomb, Repeat, Bomb.

Sat, 10 Mar 2007 01:40:01 GMT

My Mental Breakdown: Part 2. Things are finally starting to calm down.

Deciding not to take this whole thing seriously has already taken some effect, but by the end of the day it's starting to get tiresome lying to people that I'm alright when really, and I mean really, I'm not alright at all. This just raises more issues, like today. I was thinking about this fake image that I've projected for a long time now, and I tried to think of the way I was before, and I can't think of what makes up the real me, it's like that person was lost a long time ago. I really want to find that person and bring them out, but I can't find them anywhere. Maybe the real me is the person who comes out the day after I realize something great, but then lets my heart fuck everything up. Maybe the real me is the person that fucks everything up, and that's the way I am, and it's my head and my fake personality that protect me from getting hurt. If that's the case, I want to change. I want to be confident, and I want to be strong. But how do I even do that? Would it even matter if I did change? In any case, I need to get some kind of therapy, or something. It's not as urgent as yesterday though, but I'm sure that if this goes unresolved, it'll get that bad again.

This fake smile of mine has sewn itself onto my face and I want to tear it off, tear it off and smile true. It's frustrating that I can't do that.

I guess the real reason why I wanted a girlfriend in the first place is because I want to know that no matter what, there'll be somebody that I can call at any time if life's got me down and just talk it off. I mean, I used to be able to do that with my best friend, but lately, not so much. I don't know if it's a trust issue or if we're drifting or if I just don't want to bother him, but I do know that I need to find a new person to turn to. It's that lack of strength that I have that drives me to want this. Also, it's not so much that I need a girlfriend, but I guess I'm just more relaxed and okay about telling girls my problems because I dunno, I guess I think that they won't judge me as much as a guy would. In any case, I trust girls more... But what gets me is that most of the time if I get really good friends with a girl and I start telling her things that I don't tell anyone else I feel like I need to take things to the next level, like in a relationship. I don't get why, but it seems like almost every girl I'm good friends with I eventually develop a crush on. The thing is, and I've believed this for a while, relationships ruin friendships. Usually it's not them, but I just develop this weird barrier around my personality where whenever I talk to an ex, I feel like I'm re-experiencing the thing that caused us not to be in a relationship anymore, and it just ends up being torturous for me. For those reasons, I try to keep myself distanced from girls. I don't talk to them, or I just become a mean son of a bitch when I do. These overreactions push them away, and all I'm left with are the same problems that I had before. Sometimes, I just want a person that I can break these barriers with, someone I can work with and maybe date but still be friends after it ends... I want a friend who I can tell anything to without feeling vulnerable.

Sitting Here Alone In This Place That I Call Home

Fri, 09 Mar 2007 01:37:50 GMT

I can't handle this anymore. I mean, I'm having panic attacks regularly and my head hurts and I'm consuming too much and I can't concentrate and sometimes I stop breathing and start again but time goes by without my mind sinking in to what's going on around me. I'm depressed beyond depression, and I don't even know why. Well I do, but it shouldn't be depressing me. It didn't used to. Ever since I started taking this seriously, things have gone way downhill. So I decided to stop. These feelings, I haven't had since paranoia so long ago, and I hate it. Things need to go back to the way they were before. Feelings need to go back the way they were before. I hate this. I need to get out, I need to talk to somebody. But my best friends are too busy, and even I'm tired of listening to myself babble the same shit over and over again. Thinking about things, I think that maybe not having my father here has something to do with this. I mean, I have a stepdad, but he does everything wrong. I have a grandpa, but he has a short temper and an intolerance of failure. I need some balance between the two, and a paternal figure that's reliable. I think that's why I rely on my friends so much, but I don't know what I'd expect from a father. I mean, it's not like, bam, I see my father and he's a great person. There are reasons why I don't talk to him anymore, right? There really weren't a lot of redeeming qualities in his personality. But sometimes, in the middle of this burning heat of distress, the goods outweigh the bads. Still, I don't know what I'd want if I actually did decide to see my father. I haven't seen him in at least 7 years, I don't know if he's still alive. But that isn't even really the problem. My father's not even the problem at hand. My aunt's in the hospital. Again. She might die, I don't know.

I don't know a lot of stuff right now.

But in the course of all of this, I start to wonder when I became unhappy with my life.

I realize nobody reads these entries. I realized that a long time ago. Even people on subscriptions will, in all probability either skip them because they don't know me well enough to care, and even those who do will probably just dismiss it as me being "emo" (I really don't like that word, which, yes, is an emo thing to say, but whatever, right? Because I have feelings doesn't mean I should be ridiculed for them). To anybody that doesn't know me, stumbles upon this and reads some of this, I'll probably come off as some stupid teenage idiot who complains too much about his sad life when he doesn't realize how much better I have it than others. I realize I have it better than others, so lay off. Yes, I'm subject to teenage angst, but so was everyone. Sometimes I hate being a thinker, I envy those who can go on through life and not think against what the standard is for normal, those who stay with the fashion, go through life never knowing what it is to be trapped in your own mind by your own thoughts, live and die, and be forgotten. I don't want to be forgotten, but I don't want to become so incredibly pent up with rage, confusion or sorrow that I end up destroying my integrity by doing something horrible, like going psychotic and fire a few bullets into a crowded area.

That's another thing; integrity. A lot of people look at me weird when I explain that I really am against drugs, because they think I've been brainwashed by the DARE committee and all of that other crap. It's not why. The reason why I'm so against drugs is because my father did them (yeah, back to my father. I'm starting to sound like the typical had-a-daddy-that-didn't-love-him-guy-who-complains-too-much). I've seen what they can do to a person, and I've seen what they can do to a family. I'm so against them because as soon as I was able I made a promise to myself that I'd never go outside of my morals. I made a promise to myself, not to anyone else, so the only person I'd disappoint by breaking it is myself, and for some reason that's kept me out of trouble. My sister. As resentful of my father (as she's four years older than I, she experienced a lot more of my father before my parents split up than I did) as she is, she still fell into the pattern - she's smoking and drinking, she resents everybody, does what everybody tells her not to do, and can't seem to find her place. But this isn't about her, it's about me. When I what she was like at my age, I see myself now. The only difference is the promise I made to myself. Who knows, maybe she made the same promise and broke it a long time ago. The only difference is our friends, but I don't know. My sister made and lost friends weekly, and I intend to keep mine for a long time. But what happens when my friends seem too preoccupied to care about what I need to let out? I only trust certain people enough to really let out, and only one of them so far has really been able to help. But now, he has a life greater than my problems. He's busy, and even though I need him now like I've needed him countless times before to prevent that sickly feeling in my stomach like my intestines are being tied into knots, I feel like I shouldn't bother him, like I shouldn't assert myself just so I can complain. But I don't know what else to do. There aren't a whole lot of people I trust, like I said. I mean, one time when I had a breakdown and screamed and yelled and shouted and wasn't myself, he told me he cried. That's really the only reason I trust him, because somebody that I admire as being the strongest person I know cried because of me. I feel like there isn't anything between us anymore because of all of his preoccupations, even though I know it's not true. But I can feel myself fading away, drifting off and separating myself from others who could help me because I know they'd never match up to what he was before. I'm so unsure about everything, and everyone's telling me it'll be fine. But nobody's telling me what I need to hear. I don't even know what I need to hear. So I rope myself off. I push away, and I say that everything's fine. I try to hide my feelings because when I don't, my heart takes over what my head should be thinking and my actions turn people that I want to care about even farther away. I pretend to try to be macho and standoffish but really, I know I'm just insecure. I think faster than I talk, so I studder. A lot. And every time I do that, I make a fool of myself. It's not like the people are silently judging me every time I mess up a word, but I am. It makes me afraid to branch out, and it makes me afraid to be confident, because I know that the higher I climb, the farther it is to fall. So I don't assert myself. I want things, meaningful things, but I don't want to be a burden to others by asking it of them. I want to have a better life, I want to see a therapist, I want, I want, I want. No, I need. Maybe it was my upbringing that left me incapable to deal with problems on my own, or maybe it's my age. I don't know, because whatever's preventing me from knowing what I really want is also preventing me from knowing what it is. I might have a disease, who knows. Wait, no, I do have a disease. It's in my liver. Why, why in God's name is this mine? Why do I have to go through all of this, when some people don't? I guess it's just luck, or maybe it's a blessing. Still, though, I lie awake at night and worry about things I shouldn't be worrying about. Some nights I feel like crying because of all of the things that might happen, like what if I wake up the next morning and my mom had a stroke in her sleep and died? Things like that, the hypotheticals, they get me. And now I'm starting to tear because I know that what I write is true, by process of separation of those who could help me and the preoccupations of those who I trust to help me, I've single-handedly and systematically destroyed my life.

I think I've run out of things to say.
If anybody reads this, no, if anybody reads this and cares, then please help me. I don't know how you can help me. But at least try. For the sake of my sanity, try. Because I don't know how much longer I can go.

Can't You Just Play A Minute More?

Tue, 06 Mar 2007 02:49:07 GMT

List seven songs you are into right now. No matter what the genre,
whether they have words, or even if they're any good, but they must be
songs you're really enjoying now. Post these instructions in your
Livejournal along with your seven songs. Then tag seven other people to
see what they're listening to.

1 Guster - Amsterdam
2 Incubus - Anna Molly
3 Pinback - Forress
4 Jeff Buckley - Last Goodbye
5 Unkle Bob - Swans
6 Red Hot Chili Peppers - Can't Stop
7 The Cat Empire - Sol y Sambra

1 nate
2 anthony
3 elizabetch
4 david
5 nickchow
6 eric
7 nick "the giggler peepmaster" peaches

My Life, You Electrify My Life

Mon, 05 Mar 2007 06:04:06 GMT

Let's rewind. Let's go back, now. Friday. Making a decision. Let's say I chose not to. Right now I would be sullen, frustrated, stuck in a rut, listening to something depressing and contemplating sleeping early. But I'm not. I made the decision, and thank God for peer pressure, right? And now... Feelings... feelings that are, if I had to describe them, infinite. I can't even begin to describe this. Months ago, I said that I loved those who I no longer do. The feeling makes it all go away. Regrets - everything. It's as if doom never existed and it makes me never want to wear another piece of black clothing for the rest of my life. Love... no. What I feel is a combination of happiness and fear, but who would have known they would make this. The new red and blue is purple. There is nothing else, right? CCCCBABCDE, EEEEDCDEF, G, C, A, AGFEDC. It's all I want to know - It's my heart and it's my soul. Second star to the left, straight on till morning.

And it's at this moment I realize I'm in love with the world.

So Divine, Hell Of An Elevator

Sat, 03 Mar 2007 05:50:30 GMT

Today was great.

Can You Hear Me? Can You Get Hip To What I'm Saying?

Sun, 18 Feb 2007 09:27:29 GMT

Everybody's having problems. Like me! Except I can't complain to anybody because they all have problems of their own. So, here I am. Blog entry time.

The usual crap, high school sucks. Girls are confusing. But it's mostly my own self-conscious playing tricks on me. Like I said, the usual crap.

I rely too much on my friends. I think I'll take a bold step this time and just not ask for my friends' help this time, because I'm sure they're tired of helping me anyway, hah.

PS:
Internal conflict is the WORST kind.

And There's The Truth That They Can't See, They'd Probably Like To Throw A Punch At Me

Sun, 14 Jan 2007 09:26:52 GMT

Pneumonia. What the fuck!

I'm over it. Mostly. Still hearing the gargle in my lungs. The blood's out of my eyes.

Show at the rec center was pretty good, the L.C. 400 band was the best to me because watching nate play is just really fun. And it reminded me to get some Arctic Monkeys songs because I only had 2 and they're really good but that was summer and I was preoccupied.

PS; The Arctic Monkeys are reeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaally good.

If I Die Clutching Your Photograph, Don't Call Me Boring, It's Just 'Cause I Like You

Sat, 23 Dec 2006 09:46:48 GMT

A restlessness I've known before. Many times.
Except this time, without a point. Without even many points. Just without a point.
Just restless.
And so the winter has begun, we frolick and play and curse the day that we have to return.
But we won't think about that. For now, we just frolick.

But restlessness grows in my heart. I know it; I know it well. Always, ravaged and plagued I have been by this disease, this impending darkness illuminated by a single person...

But that single illumination is absent.

So the darkness covers the intention as of yet.

I think too much.

Try, Try, Try Until The Morning

Sun, 10 Dec 2006 09:59:10 GMT

In the face of a monster, everything seems so trivial, and wondering why just sort of fades away.

But it doesn't mean I don't want to know. The reasons why, and the little things that make it all up. Knowing makes everything just a little bit better, y'know?

Shunning people, those who love you, putting them after others who have hurt you in the past. It's just so sad in the end.

Trivial, Trivial Tragedy.

(PS: This is an entry about absolutely nothing.)
(PSS: I'm getting restless, and I think it's finally time to try to get back on the horse. Just a little bit. But really trying. Really, seriously trying.)
(PSSS: If you didn't catch that, I'm not actually trying to ride a horse, it's a metaphor)

The Ripple Effect Is Too Good Not To Mention, If You're Not Affected You're Not Paying Attention

Sat, 02 Dec 2006 06:39:38 GMT

Light Grenades.
Holy shit.
Wow.

And I'm off grounding! ¡Que espléndido!

Desecration Is The Smile On My Face

Wed, 15 Nov 2006 07:43:38 GMT

Desolation, desolation. The clock strikes 12 and the man sits in his chair. Dust settles. His eyes are open, but dust settles in. His chest does not rise, nor does it fall. He does not blink. The clock strikes 12. Desolation, desolation. The grandfather clock begins to break. Desolation, desolation, the clock cries out. Guilty. Guilty. Desolation of guilt. Guilt of desolating. The grandfather clock continues to break. The clock cries out. The clock cries. The grandfather clock breaks in two; the pendulum falls and unsettles the dust. Desolation, desolation. Guilty desolation. The door opens. The man moves his head but the dust does not unsettle. Desolation, desolation. The clock is broken, yet it still cries out. Guilty. The man gets up from the chair. The dust still has not unsettled. He takes soft steps with no impact. The door is open. Light poors in. From the light steps another man in a fine black suit. The clock reassembles. Desolation. The suited man beckons. The clock strikes 12. The man comes forth. A deep voice calls out from the doorway, the time has come. The clock strikes 12. Judgement time.

So basically, I wrote that in a state of destitution. Most of you already know why. If you don't know, then never you mind.

Don't cheat, kids. It doesn't pay off.

PS: Feedback / suggestions welcome and appreciated on the above... um... "jewyjewman4 (11:40:27 PM): stream of consciousness"

You Didn't Have To Do It But You Did It To Say That You Didn't Have To Do It But You Would Anyway

Tue, 07 Nov 2006 06:45:31 GMT

An entry to follow the last?

Sure, let's give it a shot: How about a one sentence, incredibly vague, one that means something, but nobody can tell?
Sounds good.

High School is fucking hilarious.

Let It Rain, Let It Poor, Hallelujah

Tue, 07 Nov 2006 06:44:47 GMT

[Written on the 2nd of November]

Along with November; the rain comes all too early. November, Bridgette. I barely knew you in life, and the anniversary of your death always comes bitterly although we refuse to think about it. I barely knew you in life. Although you are no more, I can hear your voice. I can still see you, in the coffin. I remember what you are wearing. I remember you. I remember... the night that you died. Louise told me. I did not believe her. My first thought to "Bridgette died" was that she knew another Bridgette. But not you. But it was you. You, and you alone. Crushed, I remember what I wore to your wake. Your funeral. I remember, on the night of the wake, "Michael seems to be hit really hard by this." Nate said it. Everything is still fresh in my head.

You liked rain, didn't you? I love the rain because of you. Although you are no longer on earth, you still haunt my thoughts. In the tormet I have learned to love you. Not you when you're alive, but the you that is in Heaven; the you that makes it rain in November. You liked rain. I love rain, and I love you; I love rain because I love you.

Every year, we mourn. Looking last year, everything seems so distant, when I said, "Two Years," but it is now closing the third. We mourn. Everything last year is distant; everything three years ago is so fresh. How can this be? How can I learn to love one who I no longer know?

It's only November 2nd. Twenty-eight days left, right?

Happy Early Death Day, Bridgette Florie Dillon Clement.

This Is Halloween, Everybody Make A Scene, Pumpkins Scream In The Dead Of Night

Wed, 01 Nov 2006 05:52:17 GMT

Halloween was AWESOME!
Pictures later, I guess.

I loved my costume.

I'm cut all over from the wood though. Seriously, it stings.

A Tree Holds No Secrets, Just Lies Naked To The Sky

Sat, 28 Oct 2006 06:04:48 GMT

Pretty fucking amazing if you ask me.

When You Were Young You Were The King Of Carrot Flowers

Fri, 20 Oct 2006 01:17:56 GMT

Disneyland. It was so good to be back there after 7 years, it felt like returning home after being lost at sea. It was exuberant. I remember some things that haven't changed, and the new features were just as welcomed.

I love you, Disneyland. You are the corporately monsterous, money consuming, childhood forming cradle that I have grown fond of.

I took pictures-- tons of pictures. Over 500. Plus videos! Of fireworks and stuff. The most spectacular fireworks show I've ever seen.

Other stuff--
People who have hurt me have been hurt by life.
I've always believed, life balances out eventually.
And it seems as though the balancing has begun.

Floating Over Planet Earth, You Were A Super High-Tech Jet Fighter

Wed, 11 Oct 2006 02:54:35 GMT

It's been 3 years and 1 month since I joined xanga.

What a kick in the head, right?

I'm out of blanks for making CDs with. It pretty much puts the cap on CD-making until I get more.
Sharpie ink is also running low.

I need cash for a bass.

My mom said I'm spending too much money on the mixes.

Ehhhh....
I guess I'll say in here what I did on a myspace bulletin.
I'm out of supplies, and if you want to donate, that's awesome, but I'm seriously not even expecting anybody to consider it.

If you want a mix cd, I'm open for business (so to speak) and I'll make one for you as soon as I get more supplies.
In the meantime, check out the stuff I've already done.
http://smg.photobucket.com/albums/v286/macko4321/actual%20pictures/Creations/

Wait, so, maybe selling CDs is a profitable source of income?
Maybe?
Probably not.
Probably illegal.

So Damn Cliché That It's Clever, So Fucking False You Think That It's True

Sat, 30 Sep 2006 05:46:53 GMT

Something about yesterday:
I was the only one there. The only one to help my fallen grandfather.
And you know what?
I'm the only one that saw him. On the floor. In pain. Fallen. Without grace. Without dignity.

It's just sad. Not sad in the way that makes you cry. Sad in the way that makes you cover your face with your hands, wipe your face like you're crying, but you don't. The kind of sad that makes you stare at the floor and pace. The kind of sad that makes the image appear in your head every time you close your eyes. Shock, I guess, you could call it. I keep reenacting the whole ordeal. Every detail, it's rich in my brain. I would say that it's just like it was yesterday, but it actually was yesterday. There's nothing much to remember that's worth while to remember. Just the face. The image of his face. And the way he fell. Trying to make sense of it, sort of detaching from the living world to analyze how he fell to get this injury. Just right there, I didn't want to think about it. It's as though it didn't hit me until just now, or maybe it didn't hit me until I had to help my uncles carry my grandfather up the stairs because he couldn't do it himself. Maybe it was when the stairs were too crowded and I just stood there waiting for someone to give me a specific purpose.

Tomorrow, I go to take care of him while my grandma's away. Wish me luck.

All The People, So Many People

Fri, 29 Sep 2006 05:22:38 GMT

In the words of Tim O'Brien, it's time to be blunt. My grandpa was hospitalized because he fell and hurt his knees. He had picked up dog crap that was in the yard, and he was going over a barrier we had set up so the dog wouldn't get to where the fruit trees are, and he tripped. I was the only one home, and I had to get everybody from wherever they were back to the house so we could figure things out and eventually call an ambulance. He's fine now, but he won't be walking regularly or driving for a long while.

Also, the walkout. Excuse me, the failed walkout. Teachers' silent protest. Everything, today, seemed to concentrate itself into a bullet and shoot itself through my head.

It occured to me just now that everybody seems to be spiteful of what they have in order to get something more, and a quote from Lucky Number Slevin comes to mind.

(Roughly) "The lucky never realize how they have it until it stops being lucky. Yesterday you were better off than you were today, but today you're worse and you wish it was yesterday. Yesterday, however, you couldn't care less, because it was as you thought it always would be as it was at that time.The good never realize what they have until it ends"

Things that particularly disturb me at the moment:
If I hadn't been lazy and picked the dog crap up when I had gotten home, this wouldn't have happened.
Despite everything that's gone on today, life goes on, and my homework is due tomorrow.
People who aren't friends bonded in time really don't like each other that much. Not something that I've experienced personally, but observed.
I can't think.

It's 10:20, and I'm less than halfway done with my homework.

If You Can't Afford A Broken Nose, How Can You Afford To Fight

Wed, 27 Sep 2006 03:01:21 GMT

Soooooooooo something's killing me, I wrote a song and despite Nate's urging, I can't seem to put it into a melody.

I mean when I wrote it, everything was right there. Bam. Song. Just came to me when I was lying in bed trying to sleep.

But now I can't manifest it into an actual something, and it's kind of irking me.

On the upside, however...
Hooray!

ps: the quote's not part of the song I wrote, it's part of a Ted Leo song.

I Am The Walrus! Kookookachoop!

Tue, 05 Sep 2006 04:08:32 GMT

I. AM. YOU. ARE. ME.

Mon, 28 Aug 2006 02:03:39 GMT

My weekend?
Oh, it sucked.