Control

Ahh what a great night, last night. Well, that's over. Today I've just been old hermit. No, I can't tell if I'm just getting almost too particular recently. I think I might becoming choosy or whatever the better word is. Like, I actually think I got aggravated with the thought of people doing things in my room in the way that I don't usually do them. I'm getting afraid that I'm beginning to want things to go my way. I'm almost sure that what I am actually doing has nothing to do with what I'm thinking. There's no way of telling for sure, I mean. I just can't tell because it's like I'm very sure that when I am doing things, that I am doing them for my only right reason. But then the situation just turns into smleh.

Well, all last week I was doing great. I was on a roll, I was writing all types of material and that type of stuff that I do that cannot possibly be criticized or considered futile (because I am also imagining the response to my admitting to writing interesting stuff being looked at as a 'lame hobby'). And see that's just it. I wasn't thinking about this type of crap. I wasn't thinking about the negative things that exist in other universes. I wasn't thinking about universes either, for that matter. I had a clear head for the week. It was like I was headed toward a certain zone, where no one could mention drugs, paranoia, or depression (none of which pertain to me, but bother me when I realize friends are going through this type of junk). I was feeling.. heh.. I was feeling ok (can't stand the phrase "feeling good" for some reason. I claim that I don't believe that a person can do that in the sense that no one has the right to judge what "good" feels like.) and I was calm, in anticipation. Maybe I was waiting for last night. Now, I'm just letting things bother me. People talking loud. i can't tell if that's something that... heh. I don't get bothered, of course not.

Ahr. What I was saying.. Last week, I was doing good. Trying to think of specifics besides the fact that there was a point where I realized the actor Jason Segel seemed cool. I guess the 'accomplished' feeling came from the fact that all of the notebooks I write all this crap in are pretty full. Now before you have already read the words "notebooks" and "write" and already gotten halfway through this sentence, realize that these 'notebooks' are really just.. ah.. you'd really have to see them, but the main point is that they barely have anything to do with writing. So do not even associate it or me with writing. I will not disgrace these things buy calling them "idea books," either. And that's my problem, this week. Or just today, actually. I fear that I actually might just be being a control freak. See, now I'm feeling like I remember myself saying this about myself once before. Actually, hah, I might have been talking about someone else. Still, I'm trying to keep level. I guess it's the fact that because last week, absolutely everything was in my hands, and now that this is the period in which I share my ideas, I am not willing to hear anyone else's. Which is false because I am amazingly open to ideas involving the comedy team. Yep the comedy team. That's what I've been so proud of. Especially last week. That is where my mind was last week. The comedy team. Fail-safe. And now that the day I was waiting for is over, I guess I've been back to whatever. Universe A. My home world. Not the real world, just the place where I grew up. Hm. Maybe that means I need to take each Universe A time to grow up. Or maybe I distribute my grow-ups equally into each universe. So stupid, the word, but in one of these worlds I've come to believe that not a soul should be ashamed of words. And in another, I think the opposite: the whole thing about certain people ruining certain things. In some places, at some moments, no one can ruin a thing.

Back in "Real" World, there's the sound of the lyrics "I told you- no I'll never let you drag me down to hell " which fits. I only call that one "Real" just because that's the crappy one where.. ahem.. sex, drama, and drugs exist. Again, not for me- literally, honestly, and the absolute truth. Those things can get real. But they're all complete bs to me. Cool because there's no way to detach yourself from it without looking like you're-- Hell.

Still, the fact that I've clearly gotten back into talking about this stuff, and the fact that I haven't gotten over the terminology factor just kind of bothers me. That's why I was trying to ignore certain friends of mine. It would do me good, and it has nothing to do with them--oh oh-- just the fact that what they're saying is just going to make me fixate on some other realities. You know. "Drag me down to hell". And that may be the cause of the control-freak thing, as well. I'm temporarily banishing certain folks just because they're not in the same mood as I am (mostly because they haven't heard the same news that I have). They're not thinking about the same things, and that- THAT has to be the problem with long-distance relationships of any sort. They see ABSOLUTELY different things. Absolutely no way to communicate. The details have to gather. Things become less effective from farther away. "You'd just have to be there".

So, what's the deal? Is there anything upsetting me? Well, one thing I do want to get over. That awkward meeting, yesterday. Ah. And that other awkward thing. And the thing I didn't do. And the thing from 2 years ago that I reminded myself of, an hour ago. Redemption? Hah, listen, I'm actually convincing myself that you can get over any awkward situation by turning into a big.. show. Well, hell, that ol' "success is the best revenge". Hah, now that quote is going to make me think of when I told that to Fide and he just focused on the 'revenge' part. But the point, moreover, is redemption.

Ok. I hope this flows well. Actually. Ok, I'm about to just type what I'm thinking in order to help myself out so hold up. Now, if I completely cut myself off from the whole: "imaginary people," "not exist," "universes," "I act different to certain people," "I can't remember my relationship with certain people," "man, I messed up," "anger," "disappointment," and "back-up plans"... does that mean I'm also cutting myself off from actual.. er.. "inspiration" for the things.. God.. that I do? Not to mention "what is it that we do?". That didn't help at all. Wait a minute. This has absolutely nothing to do with last night. As in- this is not even the same.. ah hell, here we go.

One of the things that got me earlier. Two things, actually. Hah. Hah. There is always absolute Hell in trying to defend Kanye West. There. Simple. Let's say defending Kanye West has absolutely nothing to do with the man himself. He's only famous for the fact that he symbolizes the exact situation that I am actually trying to defend. Kind of like Obama (because I thought of Chicago). I mean, that's what "idols" are (and I mean "idols" as famous people in general) there for. They represent an intricate ideal. That's why no one is "the one famous person". You become a fan of one particular thing because that represents that situation. I actually don't care if I'm saying anything new- remember that. But I'm just saying- to defend Kanye is to defend that one ideal of "what I am doing/saying is being translated horribly wrong". Like, jumping the gun. Like, trying to lift something heavy when you haven't even considered building muscles. As in- not ready YET. As in- maybe I need to grow up- once again. Or. Maybe I'm just not wrong.

Other thing was remembering something that could have been considered insanely passive-aggressive over the summer. I mean, how often do people around here blatantly use the words "main character" in reference to real life? Ok, first things first. I'm not saying I'll ever do so, but for someone to call themselves a main character is actually justifiable. I think I'm treading over old grounds (hah) so, I won't even justify that statement- which doesn't need to be justified because it is actually a kind-hearted thing, really. It's one of those things, you know? "Importance of self" (in social situations) is just a matter of moderation. I'm fine. No new lessons. Really just an argument of how "cool" it is to hate yourself vs. how "cool" it is to hate other people. Then there is just the absolutely honest and pure reality of "I have never heard any of those words". So, I'm fine. I just want to talk about that last part with someone before I finally decide what I mean.

Those two things kind of topped off this mood of today. Finding out that no matter what, I'm still going to look like I'm saying/doing mean, untrustable things? Even if the thing I was attempting is fool-proof? Maybe it's because i forget how I look when I'm doing it. I'm just fat :(

Yo.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Update

Yeah. Today, which is (can't stress this enough) completely not like me, I've gotten a ergh "short temper". I didn't even mention that I was getting ugh "frustrated" with the fam today. Shame that I put a negative outlook about them before I even said anything positive about how I feel about them. You know- because I don't even talk about "fam". Whoa. My God. I just said "feel"("yeah but didn't he talk about 'feeling ok' earlier?"). Ha. Hah. Actually, that just explains this entire thing. It has to just be today. So in that big old open world, I am just a nice, creative (y'all can't stress that enough) young man. Fat too! :P And once every almost-never, I can just be "man he mean"- and that'll be by complete accident. I'm a man of ideas. That's who.
-----------------------------------
and then. whoa forgot. oh yeah. how you're not allowed to bring up anything. you're only allowed to be reviewed. I'm being cruel, I think this is making it worse. As long as no one blatantly copies what I'm saying here. I've been sucked in. 1. I wanted to ignore the 'writing' side of things (this) 2. Forcing myself to ignore is just the same as ignoring anything that isn't an internal conflict.
Bottom line- last night was fun. My friends and I went to a show. I got a free dvd.

Farthest

Well, isn't it? The farthest I've gotten? I wouldn't think so but it actually may as well just be that. The farthest anyone or anything has gotten. Eh, now is not the time. Good luck, though.


It brings up a good point. A charity organization that updates its followers with inspiring quotes. But how often is too often when it comes to reading quotes? How far do people actually want to read? What if it was a celebrity updating what is going on in his or her life with quotes that got them to where they are now? Would fans be annoyed or inspired? These words (of wisdom or even phrases that result in "heh") are literally what go on in this person's head, but I am imagining that somehow these words can go unheeded. Ah first, though, if you literally don't see it then that's a different story. I am talking about pure annoyance with someone that you are a fan of. What the hell could it possibly mean to be a fan of someone? How far do you reasearch into someone's life without either: falling in or out of love, or using this knowledge to enhance your own? Then again the latter type of person couldn't even be considered a fan as much as a soon-to-be colleague. Whoa. Look, really I am specifically recording my thoughts immediately after seeing the page for To Write Love on Her Arms. Then, I thought of how what they post differs from what one average citizen might post. It's kind of merging with my thoughts of friends getting offended that I might be able to quote certain things as they come up. Eh, that's something else. Not far off, seeing as it deals with annoyance. I believe you always happen to read quotes at the perfect moments. Whatever that means. Here, the point is that you should kind of follow what would even provoke one person to quote another and at what moments. "Should." But not necessary. No should is really too necessary.

Companionship. You can't really be with someone that you don't really connect with, or someone that you can't easily talk endlessly to. Any relationship, basically. I'm not saying these opinions are mine. I'm thinking, one can have a dog as a companion and of course feel unfulfilled in the conversation aspect. But what about forgetting the qualities you're looking for? What if you begin to talk to a dog or anything else so much that you've just become busy? What if you let the human-thing set it, and you create your own motivation to keep on talking or keep on sitting-next-to. Maybe even the life-partner sense can work out. How have people been ignoring that their spouse "doesn't get it"? Maybe someone who "get's it" can only be with someone who "doesn't get it". The people closest to them will get it. That can be fine enough.

Well, I wonder if this worked at all. Those are my points. Just to keep me going, for like a split second, you know. Other than that... Heh well, just got word that I might be doing.... something.... in January. I hesitate to explain that I'm not giving exact detail yet.

I'm in the school registration process. Oh yeah of course. You know by know, right. Ugh. You. Still, if I can keep my head out of the mucky idea of what college used to be and what college actually is, then I'll be good. What college actually is versus what I'm actually doing are really perpendicular. Not necessarily clashing though. Fine. Skew. Hah irony. I've been talking about how horrifying Geometry was to me, and now look. Eh. Very small irony, yet big also since I used geometry humor. Wait, but that wasn't a joke. Ok stop. Like I said. If an academic career can be foiled simply by a chance disappearance of a classroom's folder, then I'm forced into skepticism.
What?

Last week is over. Haha. Good. It was very tyrannical. I didn't even know it. I cured. It must have been a good weekend. I still have a big off egg white crust on my sleeve. Possibly still a little bit of dog poit on the bottom of my shoe, as well. You can tell Matthew is going to be in the picture more often, soon.

This just in.. My mom just brought in an envelope, asking "Could this be for you and Tash?" The envelope was addressed to: Big Bro and Sister. There's no return address. I, eating leftovers, just said something about the possibility of anthrax. I'm not even sure what the state of the anthrax scare is, anymore. The post mark says it's from Michigan. I just finished eating, so I am more willing to try to open it. Gah. I hope it's a letter from the future. That's always my hope.

Wish me luck.

Back. I opened the envelope, carefully. Inside was a folded white sheet of paper. I pulled it out, and inside were two portrait-like photos of two young boys. Christ. I hate finding stuff like that. On the backs were their names and current ages. My first thoughts (I think even before turning them around to see the actual photos) were that I was supposed to be some assassin or bounty hunter. Now listen up. I don't even like that type of fiction. All I can say is that anyone else may have had the same thoughts. My minions told me that those were the first two options :). Really, that thought went away as soon as it arrived. Then of course came the "letter from the future" thing again. Well. These two boys are brown. I'll be damned if they're my offspring. Especially the one marked "Zach". I hate this kid. Hah, actually he looks like the boy from the George Lopez show. The sitcom, I mean. You know. I had to watch it on my Chicago trip. Rabbit ears.

Nope. I'll never have those two particular boys. They're no good. See, there's no telling though. An envelope with no return address. That's either attributed to forgetfulness, lack of envelope etiquette, or hell. From the future. Come on. And in the end of it all- please just let me have my imagination. I wonder whatever happened to that one girl that I met a couple times as a kid. Her uncle or family friend or just some older guy kept teasing her about having an extra toe. No telling if she actually did have an extra toe. But then I guess it wouldn't be a tease-able thing if it were true. I think I was just sitting off to the side, bored. I wonder if I actually made friends with those kids. I think it might have been their mom that was friends with my dad. Now I remember the lady's name because it was the first time I ever heard the name Reina. My dad told me it meant "queen". I keep visualizing this.. these streets that kind of look like they belonged in an unfinished neighborhood. I remember walking around... or being forced out of common courtesy to walk around... with her kids. Something about juice, too. Gah, that's just going to make me think about Ralph. And Beverly. Weird periods of time with my dad's friends. My dad's friends who just happened to have kids for me to play with.

Wait. I'm still talking about these two bastards that got sent to me in the mail. What, am I doing charity now? Christ, who are these kids? The obvious answer would be to send them to the correct address, right? Nah. This is the address that was written on the letter. Minus the "northeast" part. Wait, there were previous renters. The only reason I didn't think about that is because I had heard about the guy who was here in between us living here. He kicked holes in the walls, apparently. Who the hell would send pictures of young men to a man like that? In that case, the family... or friends.... will sort that out, amongst themselves. It's probably just some pathological gift someone just sent me as a cruel, Hank joke. Other than that, I'll just exploit the hell out of these pictures... no, no, they bother me too much. I would just kind of jokingly use them as placeholders in books at the most. And I won't burn them. I won't burn these pictures literally because I'm suspicious of the fact that I'm even thinking about burning them in the first place. Sigh. Look. I'll leave them where they are. I don't know the name for that particular article of furniture, but that's where they are. Sort of tucked under the paper towel my mom uses to collect incense ashes. There.

No one could have possibly expected this, but this is what happened. It happened to me in the middle of some odd writing practice I was doing. Good enough. I won't forget it. And speaking of which, I don't want to forget the other details. On my way to the piece of furniture I just mentioned, I did stop in the kitchen. I almost placed the envelope and pictures on the counter. That would have been too much. No, but my mom had just cooked these little apple tarters or something. Very good. A thin pie crust with chunks of green apple, with some sort of caramel-like (it very well may be caramel. or home-made caramel) sauce, and toffee chips. I've already forgotten them. There's plenty left, but I wanted to test whether or not I could hold off on devouring a dessert immediately. See. I'm good. Thing kinda have to be good. Gah, to think. The one thing that I have a tinge of doubt about right now is just.. my other life. My 1st 'other' life. I'm feeling iffy about.. ok there's got to be a different 'venue' for me to talk honestly about the..ugh.. comedy team. There's nothing "ugh" about it, but a very harsh change of pace. Minions telling me "no, don't." but I've got it. There's no right way. I'm feeling very good about the state of this topic (and we all like to think we're caring the most out of anyone) but there are very tiny little frays that could become problems later. I don't know. That's something I'd have to talk about. "Talk" about.

Well, then. It's good. Plus, I'm offended by the word "good". Plus, I can't tell if I'm saying "I'm offended" as a habit that Nick has rubbed off onto me. Now, if I was really in a paranoia-ish mood, then I'd completely change my wording of that last sentence. Current mood: lounge. Back hurts, and I'm just now realizing I didn't take the walk I planned for today. Craig. Ah well.

This worked.

Wave

Yeah, ok. Maybe I can do it here finally. I've been trying to write something decent about the past couple of days. You know. Computer has been virus'd for about a week or so. I actually don't remember. But it's almost necessary now to even admit to using a computer. Here it is.

Even still- to have written about the past few days. Isn't that something? That's what I've been doing this year. Well, I won't go into it as it is another "you can't enjoy the year when you're describing everything that happens" or something, but that's some of it. Either way, it's now November.. and even more surprising, it's a little after November 11th. There's no way to document what that means to me, but that is just fast.

Just as well, it's doing that whole daylight savings thing. Well, something has to have just come over me. I was telling myself that I am beginning to finally lose memory.. but then I realized that I actually haven't been doing anything enough to remember anything. I don't know. I can probably look back on this period of time as just "hospital visits and nothing happening". Yeah, I think it's safe to say "nothing is happening," whether or not it's true, at this point. Well, I guess, nothing was happening there for a moment.. Now I'm into the school application process. Er.

Well before it's too late, I've been wanting to say "you'll see," a lot. It doesn't work here. It's not the same as me automatically thinking the words "Follow Me" when I put a pen to a piece of paper or the back of a notebook. It's important. It's important for me to know, at least. I've been needing to make some point. I keep thinking of things to day and it just resolves in "you'll see". Who? Whatever. Whatever that stuff in the air is is doing a number of things to me. Besides the forgetting, it's making me feel unsure of myself, if that's the right way to say it. I keep thinking I need to make one good point, one good thing to say, and then I won't be so agitated. I guess I can't explain. Actually, it's like that paranoia feeling... oh boy.. which brings up the past couple of days which I have yet to bring up. One thing to be said before that, though. Forgetting, paranoia, trying to make some delusional point, and these "heavy" dreams. Eh, actually sounds like certain side effects. Mental crap. It's not the same. It's missing something. But isn't that how it always takes over? Making you think that something different is happening? Tell myself "it's probably only the weather", "it's probably only a hormone"?

I tried to explain this week many times. Maybe I'd have to wait until it's over? Well, I don't want to forget by that time. Isn't that what this week is about? The ability to forget? Well, according to what I just said, it's one among other things. I'm not sure if I'm willing to forget, yet. I worry. The first sign of this.. actually was on Sunday. So I'm clear? Something got me into a mode. I was thinking about this year's end fading into a whole other year. 2011? That one? I hope I'm not lying around in bed, some day in the middle of 2011. It'll happen. I hope I'm not just sitting on a phone chatting about what could-be-about-to-be as the sun goes down, next year. It's like, I have a very particular conversation with people, mapping out exactly what can happen and how to do it, and then a week happens. Fide's right. Somebody's out there setting the parameters. Changing the waves so we think in a different direction, every couple of seconds. Why do we keep switching it around? Do we all have a different idea of how things go or is somebody just doing some dastardly stuff to us? Right. I just imagined it. Going back to school, probably having the gall to move out of this house.. this safe house.. and it just turns into 'hanging out' or 'hanging around' for another ghastly amount of time. Paradox of "I just can't wait on other people". Really, though. What is the one thing? There is no one thing. That again. Those again. Do I really see myself doing what I want to be doing in 2011? Joke is on you. I'm the only one optimistic, here.

Right. That was Sunday. Inward. Then, Monday was the time I stepped foot outdoors. What a hellfire. I just went to the bank, and then onto reading a book. Then the book made me think for a bit. Then those thoughts reminded me of my dad. So I called him. I mindlessly ran into Hank. Espresso. He told me his story. His story. You never know. I've never considered biographies. I heard what I wanted to hear, I suppose. Hm, but the more I tell the events of the day, the more I realize that we all might be in the same mood. Under that same ol' wave that must've come over me. Well, not really based on him or anything. That just gave me a story to tell. Also, I might have imagined seeing a certain person that I know, but I didn't look back. Hard to explain, but there was a person sitting on a car whose face I didn't have time to look at. I don't know.

How I just keep coming back and wondering what I must have just written about. I actually don't remember the very last thing I said. Oh right. Yeah, Monday. Someone's offers to take you to a place, you go. Finished a book that night. Conan premiered. Still, a lot of talk about "I just saw the devil" that no one can really take back. It really just creeps into your brain. That again reminds me of the dreams I must be having this week. I think I caught one, but I don't remember. They've been kicking me old school.

Two days this week I've gone to the school to turn something in. Both times, I run into Nathan and Matthew. It just happens. To go any farther into talking about that'd just be stress. I ended up at "political club" today. I must've been a fool. I really just stay in comfort zones. I've done everything, though. Someone must be keeping me sheltered. Well, whatever. That's this week. Eh, I'm getting that negative "school" feeling, I guess. I'll see. I can't tell if this is like the tiptoe of the year, though. What does November look like?

I hope I snap out of it. Or back into something else. September was a good one. Except the 25th. You'd think I'd have nerves of steel by now, but I guess I lack experience. Hell. I don't know if I've been in some 'twilight of my own secret thoughts' though because I'm regenerating old mindsetsahhellwhatever. Not to mention, I didn't even mention "After All". That'll never happen.

Goodness. Ha.

Bonkers

Yeah, I finally went cuckoo. I know, I know. No proof. That's fine. It's probably just a bodily function, then. I'm just wondering how many jokes I'd make about myself once I was declared a loon. I continue to claim to not have anything to do with the whole "insanity" craze, but that's kind of a tough one to shake off. I can picture my eyes literally opening up to the fact that I actually do nothing more than confuse folks. I actually do "take the long way around things". So, I mean. I need to calm down. Not "who's to say what's normal?" or anything, but I need to stop stopping in the middle of everything I say. Do I need to stop?

I've just been going back to that phase of getting confused and terrified by regular people. Yeah the whole "people aren't real" thing, but yes regular people. I just get the feeling that people are just being hardcore versions of people. Laughing and enjoying things- no I am not "disgusted" like it sounds, but I really really really feel uncomfortable. I am really really really convinced that everything is set up. Now, I know my limits. I know that I am able to steadily believe that "people don't exist" and "most people are fake" and "some people are background characters" and "aw, I love people" and "hate 'em" and "hey" and "some people are bad some people are good some people are smart and some are dumb" all at the same time, and it all makes sense... but now I actually feel all these things at once...? Agh. No. I'm not trusting anything. Yeah, it's got to be a chemical thing.

This may be the first time that vacation will actually do me good. I think I now know how to be ok with not working on something. Heh. Contradiction: it's 5 am. I'm clearly not satisfied. It's clear that there's something going on in my system. It's also probably the cause. I already know what may just be the cure.

Earlier, I sat and tried to perfect my miniature "bio". Heh. "About Me." Not here, though. The public one. That's another thing that's been kind of making me uneasy. The fact that I was even re-writing it was just not legitimate. I was actually trying to write about myself. To compete. I basically wrote it, about 5 times. I beginning to obsess. I thought about how I inherited a need to get everyone I ever met, together. I wanted to keep in a part about how I accidentally help people. I listed words that I have been described as. I tried to insist that I need the opposite of an ego boost. Then, I realized... Since when do I describe myself? I am revealing the "secret". I'm thinking two things at the same time. Of course, I'm not trying to have a bunch of questions asked about me... well actually yeah I'd prefer that to just being plain wondered about. Fine, never mind those. What I ended up saying was something about how anything that I begin to say that might be "personal" I just turn into nonsense. Then that just makes me "interesting". It's ridiculous. All by accident. All entanglement.

Actually had a conversation, in a dire moment. Heh, I sat to a meal in a fast-food restaurant by myself. I lost it because this was my actual visual manifestation of somebody who has given up completely. I cringe at the sight of a lonely middle-aged woman eating a sandwich. That is my personal ultimate horror. Later I found out that the man who was sitting behind me was actually basically insane. You know... yelling at folks. Still, when I left I just happened to see, heh, Zane. That's as far as I'll go. His full name just drove me even more mad because of a certain character in a book. We talked, more than I expected. Just like all of my other friends, he has had time to think. Ugh. No way these words were coming out of his mouth. I've had this conversation with each of my close friends. It's always new.

I mean. I am actually getting "blind-sighted" by stupid little things. If you're on my side, don't get offended by what he said- "you seem like a college guy who likes to hang out and party, but when you go home you probably write poetry and cut yourself." I literally had to jump up and scream when he said that because it's kind of true. For someone who has just met me at this point in time, yeah. I couldn't figure out the "cut" part, but it actually put the rest of the statement in some "real life" package. This is how I must seem. That's not so good. That's the story of my life. New Year's Day, I'm optimistic and I try to reason with situations and I have faith in people. The moment after my birthday, I distrust people and I don't believe in situations.

So this year, I was just knowingly a ridiculous trying-to-impress "interesting" man. One of the things that you become out of shear avoidance. Now, I am just a wacko. Great. All of that. Then just this.

Oh yeah, I forgot. Situations where I am sure that no one ever has a problem with. They seem freshly complicated. Grant's family still has my camera, and he's in Brazil. I was supposed to get it from him before he left, but then he said his dad would drop it off with me. Fine. Apparently they still need it. I'll let them borrow it for a bit longer. I have no idea why, but I can't fathom any response to any...anything. I don't get it. I literally don't understand what any of that means. Plus, there's a public information problem that I literally do not.. ugh. This is new, I've never been able to not understand...not remember... It actually "hurts"... like something inside me is being given an "indian burn" er whatever. You know. Wringing. I feel dried up.

I'll just rest. No, wait.

Swell

This is how I react to getting stung by a bee. It happened four days ago. Don't worry, I am probably a little bit allergic. This was my first ever sting, so it's pretty good. It actually came at a time that I needed it the most. My shoe was digging into the back of my heel, and the sting actually just numbed or out-did the other pain. I must be dissolving, since that "mind over matter" thing from last year isn't working.

Besides that, I'm kind of "I wish I had more time to prepare for the past." You know what happens. Stuck in some other day, and the future hits you on the back of the head. Nothing is ever the "furthest thing from my mind," and why can I not remember? Almost everything I ever knew just took a hike. No doubt I was blabbering and drooling and dispensing growls.

That's when I finally realized what people mean when they claim not to understand what I'm talking about. I never get around to it. Ok, fine. It's probably the purest from of "saying what I am thinking" because the actual main ideas and responses are in my head, but the details and "reminds me of" are already out before I even have the chance to speak. See? When I just now did that.. this situation was equal to when you see someone typing next to you, and you glance down to see that they wrote something interesting. "Heh." er "huh."

I can imagine trying to avoid situations where you'd be dumber than the folks around you. I can imagine. I can imagine trying to. I can remember examples of this situation, though. The only right move is to give up. There's no one there to have your back.

Anyway, as far I can remember... "I'm surprised there wasn't an explosion." Surprised there was no "this group doesn't make any sense." It did make sense, always. It just depends on who is holding the camera. In that case, I'd be the radical. Weeks of taking some person on a tour of your closest friends. Various people. Some don't return. Then, some don't return.

I left out a lot of days that actually happened. Those friend tours are never a full-on experience. They're all free trials, I guess. Sign up. It's already a mutually accepted embarrassment to agree to having a "group" of friends, so I'll be honest. Yeah, my friends are perfect, but shouldn't they actually be more 'friend' than 'perfect?' Not true. Imperfection is the only reason you ever find friends. Their weak spot is exactly your way in. I'm beginning to think, though, that my friends are built for me. I mean, that's why I tried to oust the whole "this is my group of friends and we rock" type of thing, but I think we have certain skull shapes and certain mixes of chemicals. If I am correct, then I can prove it.

Other than that, the test results will take a while. They will take one long day, one short day, one 24 hour-long night, one day to reassemble, and one day to prepare. Should arrive on the summit of the week's end.

That's why it's form-fitting, though. If you've stood through all life has made you do, and you find out that you've done a lousy job... then "oops." Step on your neighbor's dog's toe. It yelps. You say "oops." Your neighbor's dad reassures his family, "he said 'oops'" as if it was ok and settled. You ask for passage into the afterlife. You stepped on a lot of folks, but not on purpose. You've said "oops" a whole lot. You can't be wrong. This has happened a lot. There's no turning back to do things the right way, and every time you fill the cracks of your mistakes.. you're rewarded with something that's just "ok." Perfecting something wasn't a hassle at all, apparently. What I mean is: you can't be wrong if it is 'your way.' You know, something you've already heard. I just don't see how it didn't take the same amount of time.

I'm straying into an entirely different idea. Something I've wanted to say for a while. It only works in conversation, I suppose. One-sided ones.

Anyway, if it truly is "all of that and then just... this" then I truly have nothing to worry about. Another case of "Those who mind don't matter, and those who matter don't mind."

I know. At this point, I'm dreaming of celebration. "Time to celebrate my career" types. I'm just flavored water, waiting to be frozen into an... "ice pop." It'd be perfect for me to ironically say "I can't wait for the summer." Oh no, I can. Elevator tryin' to crash. Waiting for the phone to destroy. You know, now there's a little green squiggle. I wonder how far it'll reach.

I wish that I can find a proper, happy ending or a conclusion to my current phase in life. If that makes sense. I only wished, for the sake of the clock. When I am given the chance to wish, then I might as well. When I am given a book, then I have to do that thing that people do when they can't believe it. Read it.

So, here I am.

Shreads

Brainpower. Like, it does everything when it's turned off. I'm good. It's almost like a snack. A lot of them.

Ok, so, kind of like what I wrote down as a note. Writers don't get to say anything because they say too much. I'd rather do something else and throw in some words. In that regard, I'm almost ashamed.

Not sure where to start off, but nah I am a person who someone is mad at. I've been on an accidental rampage. Accidentally destroying from the inside out. Stealing free cats and vandalizing some vandalism. Cutting ties, impossibly. Maybe resentment is a good way to leave folks.

With that on my shoulders, I turned into packages of ice cream, last night. I woke up as personal editions for someone to spend the night sulking above. I was that and it's ok because I "trip" people out. I spooked folks. I was quoted. Next level.

I think I was given a little bit of a prize. I could probably sleep. Oh yeah, that's what I've been trying to do for weeks. A week. Not the sleep, but the chance. At least I got my mustache taken off, quickly. Offending, warpath. All by mistake. It's ok, I must be right.

I won't forget, for a tiny bit. I just think.. I forgot. Fine.

Nigh. It is.

Praise

To be honest, my sense of self.
I'm sort of believing that there were some points where I did change who I was. I just didn't necessarily agree with that plausibility. I don't want to say that I change who I am everyday, every hour, or more likely- by the year. Plus my sense of self may actually be "inflating." I'm actually not showing any signs of narcissism, so this must just be encouragement. Sounds like people want me to move forward. Good because once it's televised, someone else can point out whether or not I change by the season.

It also makes me blatantly dread "work." Nah, I can't tell anyone that I work. I can't tell anyone what I think about college. My standards is what keeps me away from college. Generally, it's just that I can't find a school that's good enough for me, at this point. That's what it sounds like. Under that, the reasoning is that I wasn't really singled out in high school just because I did sort of have too much of a high standard for.. not sure I remember what I told myself earlier. Still, it made sense that I was more of a "perfectionist" on the way out. Leaving was just some fire exit. Now I think I'd kind of... "make school my bitch" as it goes. There's the problem. One of them. I was too good to do what I had to do to set myself up for college, and now I'm too good to take baby steps. Well, I shouldn't punish myself with these words. I was "too good" because I shouldn't have been responsible for that whole 3-year long stint I had with geometry. I'm sorry, but Geometry in my life is absolutely absurd. Aneurysm worthy. It's a great form of math, I know- it's technically right up my alley, but it's literally someone sticking their leg out for me to fall right on my nose. Clearly fate. I know that I know Geometry. Well, in all honesty- all honesty, old female teachers will not teach me math.

What I mean is that I couldn't just make up for the time I missed while the rest of my class sat back and said "yeah, dude." Actually. Odd history between math and I. Still, I was too good to spend time out of school to make up for something that will not be my fault. As a result, I have not taken my SATs. I still have no idea what grades I left school with. Oh my god. Horror in realizing that the only time I've explained that was in my job interview. "Yeah, I was pretty good in school." Eh ok that's enough. I was just unaware of what grades really were until 11th grade. I'm just not sure what all this says about me. Not bad, really.

ok. It's true, I may be giving away all the mystery of what once was "the famous 'Pito'" but if someone is doing that much research, then the word "famous" can't really fade. I don't mean insults.. it can't really sound like that. Still, the mystery doesn't lie in the everyday reality.. Actually it might. Nevermind. Still- glad someone knows that I "need to get out of this place." The anonymous "place." I know it won't mean this house, specifically, but I appreciate the concern. I lack aggression, therefore I owe it to some folks to get out of here. I'm already halfway done. I suppose that's why health can't matter much, anymore. All that anyone is waiting for, is for one of those people who care to actually be themselves multiplied. An agreement is what will give me who's I am.

Sort of brings to mind another example of high standards. Also another reason I am cautious of college. I'll start out by explaining how I wouldn't want to get any book published by some publishing company. I'm referring to Justin's situation with Charlie D. I am almost afraid to see him get published in that horrifying way. Some company, "yeah some writer wrote some stuff, he'll make us some dollars." Record labels, talent scouts, college, skateboarding... teams? I get the illusion that I'm holding the string of a balloon, but the balloon is actually just a big sack of meat. A whale, caught in some net. Other people have to give us a boost. That's the rule. Kind of like my mom's fear of being under things (ie airplanes, bridges). That's why I've been giving myself so much more than I can chew. I'm trying to do it allllll by myself. Compensation makes sense, somewhere. I need someone to directly respond to this, and tell me to quit.

Hell, ok. Why not a conclusion to standards that involves some mmm hot topic of relationship? Well, that's actually just an entire other thing I was more willing to explain, about a week ago. Point is- these things that attribute to my "inflated sense of self" (which should no longer be referred to as such) cause me to think that I can only be involved with a certain female that has a lot of absurd features. I read about this, too. I may cause myself to believe... actually I see no reason not to. I'm in control. Anyway, what I was saying is that, blah, causes of someone's definition of "obsessive love." Actually, yeah. This is very irrelevant, now. It'll come off wrong, either way. You know when you have something that you knew you were supposed to explain eventually, and it just gets brought up at the wrong time? Yea. Somewhere, in here.

If only I were tired often. I would be ok with a bunch of me's running around. Not in that way, though. Just, sleep would be too important for me to not live in the wild.

Caution tape. Pile.

Nothings

Noticing that 16th of this month actually might not have happened.

It was ok because I was actually kind of waking myself up, this morning. I thought I wouldn't have an ok time waking up because I didn't get much sleep last night. Seems like someone was watching my back in the sleep department. Hard to explain, but it did explain a lot. My point was that I had to wake up early this morning. Gah, the missing pieces.

Today was anticipated to be a big day at the store. Life fest. Not only that, but the spring Life Fest. I really just can't get over it. Everyday is either just a celebration or a question of mortality. This is just LIFE we're fooling with. Don't overlook your puns and wordplay. This is life. Life. My friends and I all hear it each time we hear that one sound clip of the "Life-Life life life." It's Life. My god.

Still, I was 100% in my own head the entire day. Thinking about the morning, over-reacting, last night's conversation, college, human behavior (literally, literally), and now just trust and byrony. hah.

Right now, I just finished an entire jug of water, I have the stereo playing, but I'm trying to figure out how to make use of the night after that nap I just took after I walked home. All I can think to do is try to tell everyone what I'm doing right now. It's because of the encouragement, though. One of those nights, where they like the stupid little things you do. All I am is really just ashamed of my phone, my diploma, and of course just the word "life". Oh yeah I was also thinking about where things finally pay off. Ashamed that everyone who has ever gotten anywhere and claimed it was a struggle may just have done exactly the same things I've done.

Just in time for Frankenstein, again. If I am not mistaken, the kids in school are studying it again. It's important that i know which piece and era of literature. Just- if only I still knew where to find that diagram of the literary eras. haunting, but hey why not.

My God, imagine the musicals that must go on in someone's padded cell.

Actually primal screaming. I'm aiming and hitting. A battle of two different muses. Fueling each other. Don't flatter one's self.

K, my smell.

This Is Yesterday

I woke up 'this' morning just thinking about getting a phone. So, later I did just get one. It's actually pretty great, I don't see what the fuss is. My mom was going that way, so she kind of helped me get there and so it went. Asked for exactly what i was looking for and I got it. Almost too simple.

Well, of course since I was already in mom's car, I ended up going to where she was going. Pep Boys, hah. She was getting her tires rotated. I was actually planning on going to the high school to see whoever it is I should see. Of course, tire rotations take a while, mostly for it to be our turn. Still, I guess it gave me the chance to try out what i can do with my new... phone.

Eventually I was back home, and Nick and Alex were coming over. Blah and then we ended up just going to Nick's and all this other drain drain. Alex left and it became one of those nights again. Except it was one of those nights plus a phone. I guess I have to work my way up to other types of nights except plus a phone. Just a lot of junk that goes missing each time, that I have to piece together. nothing I'm interested in, but.. narnia.

Well, I was in the middle of something so.