What time is it?

some posts I wrote on my blackberry

Sun, 13 Dec 2009 11:26:15 GMT

Nov 1 2009
Ashley Dennis
To be honest.
I was scared. I was scared to act because I didn't know if I was even visible to you. I told you I've spent my life in the friend zone. I was so afraid that everything we shared and connected over was just me being so desperate to believe that maybe there was a chance between us. I wish I was smart enough to see through everything, but you never made a difficult thing easier. we are doing the exact same thing to each other.october 22nd sometime after 12am at the farthest seats to the back of a mediocre pizza parlor in the commons of ithaca ny, I had my first kiss over two slices of greasy ass half bitten pepperoni pizza with the most tragically beautiful person.
632 pm --i did what I needed to do to stand up for myself against you.
It makes no sense how much you are supposed to need me, how much I want you and how much we can never be together.
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Rant
Don't fucking bitch at me to be accountable for my feelings, if you're gonna call me and depend on me then accept that I have to be cold towards you. Don't act like I'm selfish because I'm protecting my feelings. You're the fucking selfish one expecting me to be 100 percent after I gave you everything and you kept it all.
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Realize
Its amazing how if you crack a joke and make people smile, they instantaneously don't give a fuck about your existence. Why am I still here? I don't want to walk back. Man this is petty. Just play the fucking game-- say your predictable joke and its all they want.
Don't worry about happiness because in their society, they are winning by the rules they play.
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Thoughts drunk at 2nd floor the night before halloween.

There are nothing but drunk chicks trying to play the game they think will get them married or fucked. They win today because there are nothing but playground fools out tonight. Of course their chatter will be silenced by the truth of their lonliness. They listen to the music of clowns,but they are dying for the truth of poets. Chatter and noise fill the room, but sadness and shallow fucking will fill their lives. Be weak and goodnight. Take your pictures and enjoy your 2d smiles and laughs. Fuck off. Laugh it off. Laugh the minutes you count down to the last 60 seconds you take before you die alone.
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Update

Sun, 13 Dec 2009 11:12:42 GMT

A couple of things on my mind.

Today I went to the Television screenings and the Thesis Film screening. As excited as I was for everyone that was involved and particularly my roomates etc, I couldn't help but feel a bit jealous. Jealous really isn't the only word, but its the most obvious and simple to understand. I felt like I should have been part of it, as if there was a life that I really was meant to live that for one reason or another, I was not. It felt as if there was another alternate universe version of me that was really into film and a film major that was in the same room. Its as if I came pretty close to meeting the real me or at least a version of myself that I feel I need to liberate. I've spent a lot of my college experience justifying why I am not a film major or TVR etc, but today...those reason became moot. At the end of it all, my name wasn't on that screen or my work wasn't up for everyone to share with me. I've got all these feelings and emotions that I can't seem to keep inside, but I've been the biggest obstacle between those feelings and sharing them with anyone else on some potentially minuscule profound level. I feel terribly alone. I am such a waste of a soul. I am the silhouette of what might have been misconstrued as happiness. The closer I become to realizing my honest self, the more I realize I am the biggest danger to everything I truly love and care about.

Women
Things go nowhere as usual, but at least things have gotten nowhere in new and interesting ways. I still mean nothing to Ashley. I am invisible to everyone else I am interested in. And I've almost perfecting the art of sabotaging any semblance of a good relationship with a woman.

Its going to feel good to fly away from everything for a little and return to everything else I escpaed in the past. My previous life barely seems to resonate with me anymore in spite of how much it truly and fundamentally means something to my being.

I've learned about confidence in my hope.

This is the first

Sat, 07 Nov 2009 14:52:22 GMT

Recounting the things I have gone through in the past weeks and months. It has been a lot. A lot for me and if you understood where I am coming from, a lot in general(haha). If you don't know about them, its nothing personal. The reason I start with putting them here is mainly for myself to look at them honestly and to be able to share them with anyone that is curious. My life has been too private and because I've come to the realization that there is much more to me than I had ever possibly anticipated, I need to have my thoughts and experiences down somewhere--somewhere transparent where I am not afraid to have them seen or judged. So here is a good place, simply because I've already been posting and sharing; although on a much more private and ambiguous sense. I feel comfortable here and know that I can be honest here and continue forward with my life.

So beginning with the summer.

-An amazing internship with Suds, a great and terrible man. Hard to work for, but nothing less of a champion for those who can do whatever it takes to succeed.

-So much fun on the 21 playground. Bars and madness, drunken fools have replaced friends and friends have become blurry maniacs that lie on curbs, fool around with strangers and make friends with no one. I love the madness. Its beautiful in the way it destroys everything I've grown to learn and expect. It has forced to look deeper in people for what I really need in friends.

Back to school in the early fall

-Grounded and focused. I took this year head-on with determination and boundless energy. I was in control and made powerful moves towards a future that I told myself enough that I wanted.

-I met and remet some wonderful women. Namely volleyball Brit and Nextdoor Liz. There was another Liz, who came and went too quickly for me to know.

Crash, recycle, cycle, madhouse, room noise, colorful vision vomit and broken spirit.

-I (legal ramifications) did this on Saturday without any real consideration. I guess you can call it on a whim. There are more notes I need to go through and understand, but what happened has changed my perspective on who I am and about life. Some might label it, "I've lost my mind," but its hard to argue that I ever had it in the first place. Judgment and category have become nothing more than petty representations of social control. Smart, strong, weak, dramatic, me, you, race, money etc. The preceding have no meaning than the emotion we have injected into shapes we call letters and connotation.

-It has been hard to cope with accepting my own uncontrollable, mental chaos and dysfunction. I know it could be worse. I could have physical signs like twitching or a...whats the word...tick. Luckily my madness is located purely in my mind and by the luck of my life, I've been raised by people ignorant of the signs. Thanks. There is no question that people's lives are dominated by vision and that we essentially experience a lot of life through the movie in our heads and the other sense that propel us forward through the physical world. But its entirely different, as I've come to realize through a painfully lonely and honest moment, when a big part of you can't escape the movie your mind creates for you. I haven't found the words yet, but my soul is incapable of leaving this room. I know everyone else is out there living life and dying, but outside my vision, I can't believe in you. For those that know me, this is probably a lot to try and grasp. For those that don't, I hope you are able to liberate yourself from the idea of madness and the idea that it can only be terrible and dangerous. It is lonely and it breaks my soul constantly to force myself to be how the world needs me to be and not how I want to be. I've never been seen in my totally honest nudity and I can't bring myself out because of the fear of being ostracized and separate myself from the threat of being put in asylum. I will never be able to escape my trip. My emotions are impossible for my mind to be able to always hold back. One day, it will all come out and I hope to God that I will not be annihilated. I cannot express this enough! My heart will explode and the pieces will never make sense! I need to live, why can't I weep, laugh, orgasm, and scream all at once? I am stuck behind my own bodily prison! I feel more than I am allowed! HElP ME

- an infamous night at the bar.

I shared my First Kiss with a girl I had secretly been in love with for 3 and a half years. Ash D, the daughter of a powerful man and a difficult childhood said exactly what I needed to hear to be pushed to free myself forward for my first tongue tied embrace. At a the back of a seedy pizza parlor in the commons of the small Ithaca Universe, I kissed a girl for the first time over two half-bitten slices of mediocre pizza. I tasted love for a second before it turned itself on me and ran away with someone else. I could have done worse than her, but I doubt I could have done better. I felt amazing and then I had go back to my lonely prison cell. She went back to her happy relationship and I'm left with a fleeting memory of hope, intimacy, love and crushing sadness rolled into one passionate kiss. I knew you'd forget about me. It could only ever happen once between you and me and I will not regret that it did.

OH, Solstice and Big Mean Sound Machine was awesome. (I suck at the woman thing)

Wed, 07 Oct 2009 08:07:19 GMT

reworked material

My name is Marcus Poon and my last name means vagina

I solved a math problem today and it felt really good because I worked really hard. But it probably didn't feel as good as when Karl Marx figured out communism while fucking.

If I owned a business I'd have the whole place be hardwood floors. then I'd wear tapdance shoes so that they would know I'm coming

My girlfriend broke up with me. Its okay. She told me it is mutual.

I don't wear this guitar because I am going to play music. I think it looks cool.

When I came to college my mother gave me three warnings.

Get good grades
Stay away from gangs
and Don't drink dirty water

When I break up with a girl I live with. I am going to go back in the house and get the car keys and the house iwll explode.

I asked my mother when I should start dating and she said after I get married.

I was playing a video game the other day and someone called me gay. I told him that there is a different between me clicking faster than you and taking pleasure from sodomy.

You'd talk like this too if your last name meant vagina.

I can't describe

Wed, 07 Oct 2009 07:31:45 GMT

I can't really explain how I feel. I mean, I am laying here, cycling through my music, much of which, is really on my iTunes by a matter of mere coincidence, and I don't know why I am awake why I can't settle my mind to rest. A lot of people go through this, but I don't know. Every time it feels different, but every time I just...I want to say everytime I feel the same, but its not quite like that. Like I said, its difficult. I don't understand what this is. Its like Iw as born with too much emotion. So much to the point where I have to spend time feeling them... as if something within me needs to dedicate a certain amount of time to theses emotions simply for the sake of them being felt. The really have nothing to do with anything, at least directly. I know I'm not happy, but its not sadness either. Sometimes I just get soo worked up and excited that I just want to explode, but because I can't I am just trapped and frustrated. Its like an orgasm isn't enough for me to feel good. I need to liberate something else deeper inside my spine and break something in me that feels... fuck I don't even know how to describe it. I feel like I want to stretch, but its deeper and much more uncomfortable the any type of muscle soreness I've every experienced. I am burning and itching in a way that touches every nerve in my body and resonates through every existing part of my essence. Soul? Heart? Love? Mind? I can't contain it. Its so bad that I just have to lay here captivated by how impossibly emotional I feel about everything that has nothing to do with me. I feel like I am feeling everything there is feel without having any real way to express or share it. FUCK ME NOW. Is it that? Is it sexual? Is it emotional? Do I just need to be touched, loved, fucked or all of the above? Is there anything in there world or in anyone's that can grab me and squeeze me until I can feel it?

What I don't get is how much this affects me. I feel so deeply moved and drawn in by these feelings that its like moved so deeply I am paralyzed, but at the same time they are so trivial that these feelings change with the music I am playing at random on my iTunes. its profoundly moving spontaneous, instantaneous, trivial, paralyzing, devastating, electrifying, crushing, fleeting absorbing, overwhelming and uncontrollable.I feel like I want to weep, but my eyes are so full that I am just sealed by my own sickly pressure. God damn impossible feelings. can I just liberate myself, accept and be at peace? Why do I have so much inner chaos? i just reach down my throat and squeeze the sogging emotions out of my soul and let them pour out of me freely so I don't feel like I am constantly at the edge of my sanity; on the threshold of peace.

Thu, 02 Jul 2009 10:22:04 GMT

And you know what? Fuck your honesty. Your honesty is just an excuse to fucking not give a fuck about other people's feelings. You know why I haven't been honest? Its because everytime I'm fucking honest you can't fucking handle it. You fucking lose it because you feel guilty. Bullshit. Shenanigans. Our whole friendship has been a lie. I'm sure it will be much easier never calling me then it will be not calling Pablo. Go hate boys, because of course after this, despite how much I was there for you, you will conclude boys are stupid. Real fucking mature.

Thu, 02 Jul 2009 10:16:35 GMT

Fuck that. She really has no clue that I spent so much time hating myself. And really what the fuck? Oh I'm the bad guy blah blah bullshit. Whatever, this is so over it just doesn't even matter. Oh now it is a big deal, but she was fucking happy as long as I was there for her. Fuck that. Sacrifice is bullshit. I feel like an idiot. What a fucking waste. And for fuck sake, this is the first time she is hearing about it so omfg, its a a huge guilt trip. Had I said nothing, then she couldn't give less of a fuck as long she had someone to bitch about stuff too. O hyeah, you are so fucking thankful for my friendship. Bull shit, you just need a ear to bitch at, you've never wanted to hear me talk and I was fine until now you had to make shit equal and when I bitch at you, its too much for you. So fuck, its unfair for you for once, deal with it. I spent 4 years of myself in an unfair relationship. My fault for not defriending you earlier. Fuck off then.

Gah

Fri, 06 Feb 2009 20:30:51 GMT

Why the fuck do I do this to myself. She totally just walked right past me. Why can't I just get a clue and stop wasting my time. Yeah, its nothing personal. Its less than that. You're just nothing at all.

Hmm

Tue, 27 Jan 2009 15:53:05 GMT

Maybe I should big more of an ass to my friends so that women will stop wanting to only be my friend.

Unfair

Sun, 21 Dec 2008 20:28:28 GMT

I came out, distracted on the phone to see you.

My other sweet puppy.

Spotty, I am sorry.

I was away, went you went away.

Please forgive me, I wish I was there for you.

I am terrible. I miss you my wonderful puppy.

Without you, my child hood is no more now than a fleeting memory.

All I have left, is the dirt stains left from where you dog house once stood.

Sun, 02 Nov 2008 15:43:02 GMT

Lines I think should be in a movie because, just because.

Guy reminisces to his friend about previous relationship.

Guy
Yeah, it wasn't too bad.

Guy 2
Really? It didn't seem like
you were handling it well.

Guy 1
Well, she told me it was mutual.

Other scene

Girl tells guy bad news

Girl
So, I'm sorry. I just
don't feel that way about you.

Guy stares blankly. Slightly glossy eyed.

Girl
Aren't you going to say something?
Don't cry, you are just a brother to me.

Guy snaps out of trance

Guy
Oh I'm sorry. Yeah, don't
worry. The glossy eyes are just the
residue left from when your heart explodes
and your soul dies.

awkward silence. they walk seperate ways. Guy mumbles to himself.

Guy
Fucking bitch.

hmmm

Sat, 21 Jun 2008 09:21:00 GMT

Midday summer

Thu, 12 Jun 2008 18:10:20 GMT

Blagh. I honestly don't know why I feel so whatever. It really isn't down and out, its sorta just mediocre. I would hate to admit this is just purely girl-related, but that seems to be the area in my life that just always sucks and sucks at the moment. I have everything. Food, fun, family, friends and all of that. Internship is going well, job hunt is under way... I don't know. What more can I want.

Nice

Tue, 15 Jan 2008 13:04:34 GMT

I've realized something, or at least, I hope I'm right.

I've invested too much on, "personality," and not anything at all on skill. I've always banked and relied on me being likable, intelligent or just a nice guy and not at all on anything I've done. I.E. The Beijing internship. I was dying to get it, but I didn't. Why? Because well first of all, I got lucky with getting an interview and I assumed that well now that they will see who I am and get to know me, I must certainly get it. When it came down to it though, no dice. Why? I really had nothing tangible or lucrative to offer. And that is what this is all about. I've got nothing to really offer except that I am a good conversation, witty and nice. Thats it. No experience, no time where I've proven my worth as a reporter or anything like that. I am just a nice guy. And that is how it has been all of my life. my attitude has pretty much been, "agh, I don't need to study or work hard, its me! How could I fail? how could colleges deny me? I'm nice and a good person!" Well, here I am. My father is clearly not at all impressed with Ithaca College and neither is my family. I have no internships, no job, no real good work I can be proud of. I blew it in J-research, where you are supposed to love your piece, and I've got nothing to show for it in News I. WHAT THE FUCK!!!!!! Agh. Maybe I am just feeling inadequate. I don't know what I am doing. Maybe I should just change my major, but then again I love interviewing people and going to different places. *sigh* When will I be able to prove my worth? Is that even the right question to ask? Is the test everyday and by taking an attitude like this, I am failing? Am I just not a successful person? Is my personality just meant for mediocrity? I want to be great, I want to be the unreasonable man. I want to love my life. I want to love what I am doing. What is this doubt? I am afraid. Am I McClellan? I've always imagined myself to ascend to greatness. OH God. I fear that I spend way too much time waiting and imagining myself being great instead of being great. I hope that isn't the case. I just want to do the right thing. I want to live a real life; a profound life.

hmmm

Sun, 06 Jan 2008 11:50:42 GMT

So this is where my life is. I am a sophomore in college, Ithaca College and I am majoring in journalism and minoring in history. I am at the moment, home on vacation for the holidays in Los Angeles and its about 3:20 in the morning. I am 19, single, 5'10(about an in of an improvement since last year) and 220 pounds. My hair is long, messy, and still has those damn white strands. I just got home from Michael's house after hours of kick ass rock band, which by the way, I suck ass at as a drummer because I have absolutely no rhythm. Elliot was there and Michael's mom. Went to Baja fresh before that, bought the game, and before all of that, I tutored Victor(my cousin for any of those who are curious) at Geometry. Uncle John gave me 20 dollars for my trouble, but I still don't know how I feel about that. Anyway, to the point of why I even bother to write. hmmm, Maybe not just yet. I still want to go through my days and shit. Yesterday I played volleyball, I was allright, but I didn't really get to play because I open gym was a total joke. Also, while I was there, I realized that I have come quite a ways from highschool and despite my misgivings, there is absolutely no turning back. Silly though, to think that I spent soo much time missing it and now I've come to a point where I really can't stand acting like that. Lets see . . . important things to note; Remember the deal for when you turn 30. Haha I be the other one won't though, but at least you have something to hope for now as opposed to nothing. What else? Ugh, parents are the same, disappointed at times, but they still do what they think they need to do to support me. Umm Sisters are well and good and on their way to building solid careers. So where does that leave me. It leaves me sitting here on saturday night thinking about writing. So on the way home, that strange feeling hit me. The one that appears and manifests itself so suddenly that I am NEVER ready for it. It so far, I have yet to determine any sort of pattern. It was that strange sensation that I was aware of my own awareness. The word, "aware," isn't even appropriate because as it is defined, it is having knowledge of situation or fact. It was more of a sensation or maybe more like a plane of emotion that I, nor anyone I've ever really come across, has explored and dealt with on such a regular basis. But anyway, to the sensation. Its like if life were a movie, why am I the point of view. Or if life were a story, why am I the narrator; not to mention the fact that this is told in first person. Ugh its soo disturbing. So utterly disturbing in a way that is just as confusing as the feeling itself. And I know there are people out there who think about why am I me and how did I get here and all that, but this is more than that. Its more than the narcissistic awakening. It has to be. I has to more than just me thinking too about who I am. It troubles me so much to the point where I have to stop what I am doing at that moment. Why can't I see myself? Why is this the only story that I can tell without any bit of doubt? What am I witnessing. my consciousness is driving me insane. I dunno. Of course there are other important things to think about ( says the other part of me) and its silly also because if I weren't so lucky, then I probably wouldn't even have time to think about this that much. Then again, maybe I would. This never goes anywhere. It just freaks me out and then life continues. Does everyone feel this way, but doesn't waste time thinking about it? Or are there just a few people who feel this? and if so, why just a few? and what it is that links us together? Part of me wants to believe that I secretly connected to great people of the past and present and that in some way, this feeling links us, but thats just ridiculous. Perhaps that is why I need so badly to go out into the world and be a journalism. Maybe it is my deep desire to find someone out there who thinks about this as much as I do or at least it maybe part of my desire to understand this feeling's role in my life. Every time I go through this, I feel like I come within the warm breath of an answer, but it then I just get confused or forget it exactly felt and life pushes me forward in spire of how hard I want to dwell. But it is strange, everytime the feeling comes up, I know exactly what it is. (sigh) what else is new about life? Family is going to a laker game tomorrow. I am still useless in everyway. Unemployed, going to a whatever school that I don't seem to actually fit into or really like and I am a virgin that is just about on the bring of giving into reclusiveness. I swear I really don't think I can get over this fear of making a move on a girl I like. Whatever to all of that though. It is depressing, but what can I say. I know exactly what I should do, but my idealism stops me. Ironic, really. I guess I shouldn't say whatever to that. Don't get me wrong, it bothers me all the time, but I just think it is a shame that it does. I want to just be happy and most of the time, I think I do a pretty good job, but this part of life has too many uncertainties and insecurities to be considered settled. what is it like when someone wants to be around you? For some reason I have to undying conviction that women are inclined to be repulsed by me. (sigh) whatever. I hope the next semester of school turn out well. I want to get someone with my life. I am stuck.

Sat, 08 Dec 2007 01:05:39 GMT

Egh, annoyed and don't care.Nothing feels right.

Wed, 31 Oct 2007 04:42:18 GMT

It has been so long since I have felt something real. I feel hollowed out, calloused and dry. I want to burst and flood and swoon. I want to be excited. I have been so sickly. Perhaps my nerves are giving in. The pimples on my face and the white hairs on my head are multiplying. My soul is seeping out. Or maybe it is being squeezed out by the knot in my stomach. I want to be weak, loose and untied. I am so tired of trying. I don't feel like I fit. My soul is burning and twisted because the way my life is shaping up doesn't fit as comfortably as it should. I am becoming claustrophic inside my own skin. I feel wrinkled and dry. Dusty and fried, like a try piece of chicken that leaves you with a salty tongue and a dried out mouth and appetite. Empty, usatisfying and bland.

quotes

Mon, 15 Oct 2007 00:09:53 GMT

men will die for war before they will fight for peace

I feel how weak and fruitless must be any words of mine which should attempt to buguile you from the grief of a loss so overwhelming. but i cannot refrain from tendering to you the consolation that may be found in the thanks of the republic they died to save. I pray that our heavenly father may assuage the anguish of your bereavement, and leave you only the cherished memory of the loved and tlost, and the solemn pride that must be yours, to have laid so costly a sacrafice upon the altar of freedom.-Abe Lincoln's letter to mother after her loss of 5 sons.(mistaken, but still, fuck I wish I spoke or wrote like that.)

In your hands, my dissatisfied fellow-countrymen, and not in mine, is the momentous issue of civil war. The Government will not assail you. You can have no conflict without being yourselves the aggressors. You have no oath registered in heaven to destroy the Government, while I shall have the most solemn one to "preserve, protect, and defend it." 34
I am loath to close. We are not enemies, but friends. We must not be enemies. Though passion may have strained it must not break our bonds of affection. The mystic chords of memory, stretching from every battlefield and patriot grave to every living heart and hearthstone all over this broad land, will yet swell the chorus of the Union, when again touched, as surely they will be, by the better angels of our nature- lincoln's first inaugural address.

I guess I've been on a lincoln binge. Taking a class on the civil war is intense.

Tatoos to get

-"The Unreasonable man."

-"By the better Angels of our Nature."

Tue, 09 Oct 2007 06:33:41 GMT

I don't belong to this world.

grumble

Sun, 23 Sep 2007 18:31:20 GMT

It really does feel like and endless cycle. something needs to change.

Egh

Fri, 14 Sep 2007 06:48:49 GMT

I feel wierd. And I feel really annoyed, but they don't really have anything to do with each other. I feel like I am living my daily life, but feeling the way I do when I think about my memories. Its odd, so very odd. At the end of the day, I hope I am doing the right thing. Lately, I've been getting the feeling that I am not as good at social situations as I thought I was, or maybe ... ugh whatever. I don't give a fuck anymore. Tomorrow is another day, hopefully something new happens. I'm not that bad, I just want something new so I probably am not putting in any effort.

Sun, 05 Aug 2007 11:41:26 GMT

I love writing shit. Things in writing are easier to seriously take foolishly and make you believe in wild and imaginative interpretations of what you thought happened. The immortality of written words fixates on the rigid nature of reality and lays between the sheets of flesh-toned lies.

P.S. I was involved in a car accident today. Don't worry. No one was hurt and I wasn't driving. All I really feel about it is . . . Whatever and kinda cool to think about. I guess that is my youth chiming in.

Went to the beach. That was fun. People are so dramatic and stress over such stupid things. I like to swim at the beach.

D.C. was fun. I'm glad I did. I want to travel abroad. I'm tired of people and their shakin'-with-rage cages.

I need to write about Islam. I experienced a lot, but I don't know if it fits in the genre of traditional "journalism."

Amy Winhouse's music is freaking sexy.

Do I avoid confrontation? I avoided a confrontation today . . . I don't want to have to fight someone just to make a point. Maybe I just pick my battles. The problem is that I never pick battle. I hope I can when it counts.

I want a tattoo.

Am I assertive? Am I confident? Ugh, Fuck those questions. I so pissed off at people telling other people what they should be. It isn't that I don't get pissed off, you just haven't pissed me off in the right way.

Stop making lists. You don't know me and you won't get me so of course you don't love me. I want to love human. I just want it. Flaws, craziness and all. Thats what makes it worth loving. Perfection is too easy to love and defect is too easy to hate. Life is already too easy to be interesting.

I hope after all this, I've been happy.

Tomorrow sounds exciting.

lost

Thu, 05 Jul 2007 09:49:29 GMT

Some reason tonight made me reflect a lot. At least more than usual. I am in Washington D.C. The capital of the United States of America; a place of so much history and preeminence, a place to revisit traditions and core values. Appropriately, I am here on the 4th of July 2007, a full 231 years after this country was established. It was actually moving because my classmates and I went up to the Iwo-Jima memorial to watch the fireworks display coming from the national mall. I don't really know how to describe it. The experience was pretty overwhelming. Yet amidst the outburst of this sensation, I find myself in my room, after everyone is long asleep and after watching too many hours of American history in the History channel feeling so very lost. And lost isn't the only feeling, trapped as well. I don't really understand it. I feel trapped by own inability to articulate and express feelings that I have. I don't know enough words, I don't play music well, I can't sing or write music, I can't draw . . . Its really like there are feelings inside that I just don't know how to elaborate upon in order to truly grasp and ultimately understand. I am not sure if this is one feeling or many that have collided into a big mess, but its hard to describe. So thus, I feel so lost. I don't know where I belong or who I am. Or essentially, what I want. It is especially disconcerting because in respect to men who lived with such seemingly undisputed destinies of infamy and eminence (I.E. Benjamin Franklin, George Washington) I find myself wondering, "How the fuck did they get there?" What made these men so great? It couldn't have been just the right place at the right time, nor could it have have been simply a mistake of perspective on part of their contemporaries. What made them men of such worth that men around them could not help be see them a cut above the rest. Many inventors, many brilliant men, so many many military geniuses. what makes a legend, a legend? Their quality is of such their deeds survive death. Am I anywhere near such quality? Were they just really good men? Thats all I want to do. All I want is to be a good person. Does that leave hope that I may do something truly great and worth something? What is the difference between George Washington, Benjamin Franklin, Martin Luther King, Jimi hendrix, FDR, JFK etc etc and everyone else who has lived? I guess you can argue, Washington was rich, Franklin was a freaking genius, and Hendrix was talented. I've met many of those types and still nothing worth the title of great. I feel like there is something more to them. Some deeper pain, passion or will that drove them beyond the average desire for fame or just for fortune. Something that made them furiously obsessed with really experiencing the meaning of life. Something that drove them made with passion and energy. What is it that pulses through the souls of great men? Maybe it is nothing. Maybe they just were lucky enough to get a lot of media coverage and that great men are no different than regular men. I don't know how to feel about that. Sometimes, I just want to be numb. I'm tired of my emotions. I just want to do the right thing and be done with it. I feel really vacant . . . desolate . . . hollow ? What other synonyms can I find.

D.C.

Sun, 01 Jul 2007 07:04:03 GMT

So far, this has been a really interesting experience. D.C. seems to be like a lot of fun. its a busy town and everyone looks like they are here to change the world. Kids playing classical music at the bus stop and it is sponsored by the city? A really multicultural area of students, residents and restaurants. Its strange really. Everything seems so historic, so very important . . . everything seems like it has story to tell and the story probably revolves around building a country around idealism. I dunno, the place seems to be filled with an essence or passion for doing what you think is right. First thing tomorrow, I visit the capital area. On another not, maybe I'll get to visit Ashley or she might get to visit me. At least Eric, Karly and T are visiting for sure. .... She did say that when she got a car she could visit me anywhere. Haha. Silly boy, the things your over analyze when you hope for things.

Just what the hell.

Sat, 23 Jun 2007 08:22:15 GMT

I just fucking hate everything. I'm sickened and tired of my sickness and exhaustion. I don't understand. If I could, I wouldn't. I'm always thinking that I would be happy somewhere else. I'm so frustrated. I'm just straight up unhappy. I keep sighing thinking that maybe I'll feel better, but it doesn't. "Someday, you'll make some girl very happy." Well, this is my response. I'm sure I will, but she will probably not. Don't worry, you probably won't get it. This is so bizarre. My self-esteem is so low right now, I don't even know where to begin on making myself feel better. Maybe I should ask for help. I guess that is assuming that asking will mean I will get an answer. Family? Friends? Myself? I need a reason to keep fighting. I want a reason to keep to the right thing other than it is the right thing to do. I'm so depleted. Deflated like an old balloon and exhaled like bad breath. God I feel crappy. I just want to turn my life around and change everything already. Who am I? I'm supposed to make this world better. Maybe I'm like a sponge that is just here to soak the filth that people seem to love dishing out. God damn. I can't even take myself seriously. I won't even allow myself to feel bad long enough. aiigjlkghjl/kfjsgijdsgjdfeijij BLAH