I was walking through Barnes and Noble yesterday--Was it only yesterday?--when I realized something important. Besides the fact that I read way too much. (Really. I was browsing the teen section, and I couldn't find a book that I hadn't read. Excluding Gossip Girl and all that other crap that publishing companies try to pass off as literature. But I wouldn't want to read that anyway.) This new found realization was brought to my attention by one particular guy. Yes, he was just a "guy". Average, generic, cereal box cut-out... how ever you want to put it. And he didn't to anything to alter my life, but his phone did.
Here's the story:
I was walking by, minding my own business, eager to get to the teen section (this was before I found that I had already devoured most of the section. Oh, and NOTE: I feel I have to defend myself against all of those haters of teen literature. It isn't all stupid. You often have to hunt to find the good books. A lot of them don't really have any enrichment, sure. But the one's that are just for fun tend to have twice as much creativity as the others, because it's a war out there. Everyone is trying to set themselves apart, and with all of the over used plots out there, not many achieve this. But it's fun to watch them try. And every once in a while you DO stumble across a real gem, and then that book changes your whole life, because it questions something that you thought you believed in, or it makes you see something for what it really it. There is a lot of truth in teen literature, even in the fantasy books. In fact, one of the main differences between teen and adult literature is that adult literature has to hide behind all of the fancy words and concepts that "adults" have to deal with every day. Teen literature tells it like it is, with no walls or screens to trick you into thinking you're superior. Every one is equal in teen literature {not literally} because at some point, every one goes through being a teen. And it sucks, by the way. I just thought I needed to put that out there.) Um, where was I?
So I'm walking to the teen section, and Cell Phone Guy's cell phone goes off (predictably). And guess what the ring tone was? NO, guess. GUESS!
Okay, I'll tell you. It was "Don't Stop Believin'" by the only Journey.
What did I do, you ask? Well, I won't tell you how I tried very hard not to laugh. I won't tell you that, in an effort not to laugh, I let this really amazing ear-to-ear grin invade my face. And I certainly won't tell you how, after all of my efforts not to laugh, I ended up rolling on the ground with my uncontrollable giggles anyway. No, I won't tell you any of that, because if I did, you'd think me unbearably rude.
What the hell--I am rude.
I laughed at him.
And of course, I really couldn't help but over hear his conversation...
"What's that?"
"Oh, nothing. Just sitting in a chair reading."
"Yeah?"
"NO!"
"Really, some people..."
"Uh-huh."
"Uh-huuuuuhhhh...."
"Sure, honey. I'll grab some milk on the way home."
"I love you too sugar-bunns."
"Oh, stop it! You're making me blush!"
"*Gasp* Honey! You can't say those kind of things in public! Save it for the bedroom."
Okay... maybe I exaggerated a little, but not much.
And I have no idea why this whole event strikes me as so funny. I guess it's just the little things that you have to find that make you happy. And this guy certainly made my day, whether he knew it or not.
So here's to you: crayons, clean sheets, leather gloves, colorful socks, laughter, Vick's decongestant chest rub, chocolate, piggy banks (but not broke ones), and witty banter. You have all made me happy at one time or another, and some of you continue to do so.
Thanks for reading everyone. Have a happy leap year.
--Kacie Renn
Sunday, February 28, 2010
Friday, February 26, 2010
Sometimes I feel so young.
Sometimes? Who am I kidding? I feel like young all of the time, no matter how hard I try not to.
At least it means I have a lot of time to do what I--ultimately--am hear for to do.
Making lists, although useful at times, doesn't seem to have a point. You can try your whole life, writing down every little thing, taking notes, ordering.ordering.ordering. But you can never make sense out of all of the tiny, infimestial occurrences that effect us every single second. There are some things that just can't be forced into an adorably neat stack. And more often the things that are wild and out of control, and completely terrifying are the best things in your life.
I find myself trying to contain them anyway, and even if the lists aren't written down in any physical sense, my brain is composed of many, many lists, ranging from groceries I need to buy, to what homework I have that night, to the places I want to go, to the smells that make my toes curl with pleasure. And inevitably those lists over lap and get jumbled around in that empty crevice I call a mind, and everything just sloshes around to the rhythm of my footsteps.
Some things you can't put into words. I consider myself a deep person, but the thoughts I want to convey that prove this point just won't come. This is one of the reasons I admire philosophers, poets, and songwriters so much. It's not really the emotions they feel, or the concepts that they grasp at and understand, because I can do that too. But it's more that when it really matters, all of those people found a way to express what they meant. I would do almost anything to be able to do that.
I'm trying to decide whether or not I should continue my short novella thing, that still remains nameless. I would, except that I don't technically have a copyrite. Which is probably a huge mistake to admit so publicly. I most definitely have too much faith in people, that if they stumble across my work, they won't steal it. And I'm certain that my friends won't, but I know there are other people out there who would. Even fellow writers, in a fit of desperation due to writers block, might under the right circumstances. And that pains me the most, because I would hope that any other writer would honor the sacred, unspoken bond that keeps them from plagiarizing.
With all of this to consider, I haven't decided if I'm bringing Charli and Ivan back. I will, however, continue their story. Just maybe not here. :(
It's hard to keep your balance. There are so many things that I love to do that I always end up neglecting one when I get caught up in the other. I hate it when that happens, because it seems unfair in a kind of odd way. (It's odd because my hobbies are technically inanimate objects. I would argue that point--they seem alive enough to me!--but I don't want to come off as crazy.)
Uhg. I just can't do this right now. My mind is bursting with things to say, and the trickle of them being released is unbearably slow. I'm not going anywhere.
Thanks for reading.
Sometimes? Who am I kidding? I feel like young all of the time, no matter how hard I try not to.
At least it means I have a lot of time to do what I--ultimately--am hear for to do.
Making lists, although useful at times, doesn't seem to have a point. You can try your whole life, writing down every little thing, taking notes, ordering.ordering.ordering. But you can never make sense out of all of the tiny, infimestial occurrences that effect us every single second. There are some things that just can't be forced into an adorably neat stack. And more often the things that are wild and out of control, and completely terrifying are the best things in your life.
I find myself trying to contain them anyway, and even if the lists aren't written down in any physical sense, my brain is composed of many, many lists, ranging from groceries I need to buy, to what homework I have that night, to the places I want to go, to the smells that make my toes curl with pleasure. And inevitably those lists over lap and get jumbled around in that empty crevice I call a mind, and everything just sloshes around to the rhythm of my footsteps.
Some things you can't put into words. I consider myself a deep person, but the thoughts I want to convey that prove this point just won't come. This is one of the reasons I admire philosophers, poets, and songwriters so much. It's not really the emotions they feel, or the concepts that they grasp at and understand, because I can do that too. But it's more that when it really matters, all of those people found a way to express what they meant. I would do almost anything to be able to do that.
I'm trying to decide whether or not I should continue my short novella thing, that still remains nameless. I would, except that I don't technically have a copyrite. Which is probably a huge mistake to admit so publicly. I most definitely have too much faith in people, that if they stumble across my work, they won't steal it. And I'm certain that my friends won't, but I know there are other people out there who would. Even fellow writers, in a fit of desperation due to writers block, might under the right circumstances. And that pains me the most, because I would hope that any other writer would honor the sacred, unspoken bond that keeps them from plagiarizing.
With all of this to consider, I haven't decided if I'm bringing Charli and Ivan back. I will, however, continue their story. Just maybe not here. :(
It's hard to keep your balance. There are so many things that I love to do that I always end up neglecting one when I get caught up in the other. I hate it when that happens, because it seems unfair in a kind of odd way. (It's odd because my hobbies are technically inanimate objects. I would argue that point--they seem alive enough to me!--but I don't want to come off as crazy.)
Uhg. I just can't do this right now. My mind is bursting with things to say, and the trickle of them being released is unbearably slow. I'm not going anywhere.
Thanks for reading.
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Inspiration and Profound Thoughts come to me on the Wings of Cows...Who would have thought?
Here some imfamous quotes from the all thinking Kacie Renn Lynshah:
"Order is easy. We all know that."
"Randomness is a trick of the brain through interpretation."
"And in all the months of my great silence, I did forget how to speak."
"Impossible things are all an illusion."
"The endless circles of my thoughts provide a lovely track for your chasing games."
"Quotation marks are the stupidest thing, but commas, however, rock my mismatched socks."
I just finished reading a book by Libba Bray called Going Bovine, and it was the best book I've read in a long time. Funny thing though: I didn't really understand what happened. It was strange in the way that the story didn't really have a definate ending and that the story line wasn't completely solid.
It got me thinking:
Order is easy.
It's easy to understand, easy to simulate, easy.
To be told where you're going, knowing that there's a plan.
Soooo Easy.
Random is harder. It's something you don't understand, can't, because there is seemingly no order.
Wouldn't it be ironic if those two things were actually connected? I'll come back to that later.
How do you express randomness? When everthing inside of you screams for order, but you want to resist with everything you've got. Don't get me wrong; order isn't always a bad thing. but it isn't always good either. Sometimes randomness feels right. It keeps you in the moment, the one happening right now. And now. and now.
What's right and wrong? What's good and bad? They are like question and answer; one following the other. Niether exist because they can reverse roles anytime, in any circumstances.
So, theres' no good or bad. that means that they do not apply to randomness and order.
What about choices? Right now I'm choosing to write this. What other choices do I have? I could talk to my family, call one of my friends. Maybe they need talking to, and I'm doing something bad by ignoring them. I could be reading a book, gaining inpiration to write a book myself that will change somebody's life. I could be practicing my choir music so that I don't such come March when my concert is. There are endless choices.
What then happens to all of the other choices that I did not decide to use? Where do they go? Do they exist some place else, in a world where I did choose them? It can't be as simple as them dissapearing, never wanted, never taken advantage of. How sad would that be?
So: Good/Bad, Random/Order, Choice/Other Choice/Desicion.
Then what about reality? What is it? How do we know it's real? Where is the proof? Is anything real? Or do you just leave it all to Enterpretation?
Oh, I want this to be real.
But it's not.
I think this is real.
You're wrong. This is real!
Tow different realities. All from choices. All from random order, all from our thoughts and morals based on what we think is good and bad. they are ALL CONNECTED.
It's sort of like wearing foggy glasses. I can kind of make out shapes and colors, but not clearly. I've talked before about not being able to see the big picture. What if there isn't one? What if it is all randomness? Although randomness has to have a purpose, right?
I would like to think that fate is real, that there's a plan out there, designed just for me, involving others who entwine their own fates with my own. But if there isn't, randomness is okay, for now. I want to live in the moment. And I also believe that if your fate turns out to not be that great, then randomnesss should be able to change it, just because it makes you live in the moment. That's all the reality I need.
When I started this mental conversation, I thought I knew what I was talking about, but now that I've thought about this more thouroughly, I think I'm wrong. I wanted randomness, and I guess that I still do. But it kind of bothers me not to have a little order. And it baffles me that I want order. (I don't see why human beings feel the need to fasten themselves so tightly to order and reality. It's a strange weakness, and I think it is possibly because those things make them feel more in control when they absolutely aren't. Or it could be that those things are really the only things they can hang on too, because everything else is unreliable. )
But nevertheless, I do want some order, just not an abundance of it.
Anyway, I had the incorrect idea that, even though neither is good of bad, randomness was better than order. But they are actually equal. One can't be without the other.
Randomness exists because it wants to irritate order; because order can never organize randomness. But order is there because it wants--NEEDS--to organize randomness. There is always that motivation, that feeling of "Almost there..." They eternally chase eachother, around out thoughts, around the world.
My thoughts running in circles are their track.
But which one of these two things are natural? Which came first? Is there an answer to that question?
Those are just some of the things that that book got me thinking about. Really, I haven't even scratched the surface. But I can tell you that there will probably be more to come, everytime I reread Going Bovine. Which will be a lot. I'm planning on taking it to college with me.
Thanks for reading! I love.
(P.S. I'm going to be bringing back story corner very soon, if anyone cares. It's just been hard to find time to write it in the midst of expanding my mind, reading as much as I can, writing songs, groaning and bashing my head over how much my book sucks in comparison to Going Bovine, and eating way too many Valinetine's day cookies. Seriously, I'm fat now. So, sorry.)
(P.P.S. Oh, and Jessi, if you're out there somewhere.... Hi! I adulate you, seriously.)
"Order is easy. We all know that."
"Randomness is a trick of the brain through interpretation."
"And in all the months of my great silence, I did forget how to speak."
"Impossible things are all an illusion."
"The endless circles of my thoughts provide a lovely track for your chasing games."
"Quotation marks are the stupidest thing, but commas, however, rock my mismatched socks."
I just finished reading a book by Libba Bray called Going Bovine, and it was the best book I've read in a long time. Funny thing though: I didn't really understand what happened. It was strange in the way that the story didn't really have a definate ending and that the story line wasn't completely solid.
It got me thinking:
Order is easy.
It's easy to understand, easy to simulate, easy.
To be told where you're going, knowing that there's a plan.
Soooo Easy.
Random is harder. It's something you don't understand, can't, because there is seemingly no order.
Wouldn't it be ironic if those two things were actually connected? I'll come back to that later.
How do you express randomness? When everthing inside of you screams for order, but you want to resist with everything you've got. Don't get me wrong; order isn't always a bad thing. but it isn't always good either. Sometimes randomness feels right. It keeps you in the moment, the one happening right now. And now. and now.
What's right and wrong? What's good and bad? They are like question and answer; one following the other. Niether exist because they can reverse roles anytime, in any circumstances.
So, theres' no good or bad. that means that they do not apply to randomness and order.
What about choices? Right now I'm choosing to write this. What other choices do I have? I could talk to my family, call one of my friends. Maybe they need talking to, and I'm doing something bad by ignoring them. I could be reading a book, gaining inpiration to write a book myself that will change somebody's life. I could be practicing my choir music so that I don't such come March when my concert is. There are endless choices.
What then happens to all of the other choices that I did not decide to use? Where do they go? Do they exist some place else, in a world where I did choose them? It can't be as simple as them dissapearing, never wanted, never taken advantage of. How sad would that be?
So: Good/Bad, Random/Order, Choice/Other Choice/Desicion.
Then what about reality? What is it? How do we know it's real? Where is the proof? Is anything real? Or do you just leave it all to Enterpretation?
Oh, I want this to be real.
But it's not.
I think this is real.
You're wrong. This is real!
Tow different realities. All from choices. All from random order, all from our thoughts and morals based on what we think is good and bad. they are ALL CONNECTED.
It's sort of like wearing foggy glasses. I can kind of make out shapes and colors, but not clearly. I've talked before about not being able to see the big picture. What if there isn't one? What if it is all randomness? Although randomness has to have a purpose, right?
I would like to think that fate is real, that there's a plan out there, designed just for me, involving others who entwine their own fates with my own. But if there isn't, randomness is okay, for now. I want to live in the moment. And I also believe that if your fate turns out to not be that great, then randomnesss should be able to change it, just because it makes you live in the moment. That's all the reality I need.
When I started this mental conversation, I thought I knew what I was talking about, but now that I've thought about this more thouroughly, I think I'm wrong. I wanted randomness, and I guess that I still do. But it kind of bothers me not to have a little order. And it baffles me that I want order. (I don't see why human beings feel the need to fasten themselves so tightly to order and reality. It's a strange weakness, and I think it is possibly because those things make them feel more in control when they absolutely aren't. Or it could be that those things are really the only things they can hang on too, because everything else is unreliable. )
But nevertheless, I do want some order, just not an abundance of it.
Anyway, I had the incorrect idea that, even though neither is good of bad, randomness was better than order. But they are actually equal. One can't be without the other.
Randomness exists because it wants to irritate order; because order can never organize randomness. But order is there because it wants--NEEDS--to organize randomness. There is always that motivation, that feeling of "Almost there..." They eternally chase eachother, around out thoughts, around the world.
My thoughts running in circles are their track.
But which one of these two things are natural? Which came first? Is there an answer to that question?
Those are just some of the things that that book got me thinking about. Really, I haven't even scratched the surface. But I can tell you that there will probably be more to come, everytime I reread Going Bovine. Which will be a lot. I'm planning on taking it to college with me.
Thanks for reading! I love.
(P.S. I'm going to be bringing back story corner very soon, if anyone cares. It's just been hard to find time to write it in the midst of expanding my mind, reading as much as I can, writing songs, groaning and bashing my head over how much my book sucks in comparison to Going Bovine, and eating way too many Valinetine's day cookies. Seriously, I'm fat now. So, sorry.)
(P.P.S. Oh, and Jessi, if you're out there somewhere.... Hi! I adulate you, seriously.)
Monday, February 8, 2010
Untitled: Story of my life?
Hey guys. I'm not doing the whole school thing today. Playing hookie? No. Not even. I had All-state choir this weekend, and my voice is totally shot. I can't even talk. So because I don't want to walk around all day writing down what I want to say, I decided to stay home. No point in going.
But it worked out pretty well, because I am so far away from feeling responsible today. And if I went, that is exactly what I would have to do: be responsible. Ungh.
I have some profound thoughts for you:
I've been thinking a lot lately. And the more and more I think, the more it seems like I'm coming full circle. I don't know it this is a good thing or a bad thing, because I thought I was making progress. But if it's just a circle, then there really isn't anywhere to go. So what's the point?
It's weird, you know. Life isn't really the fairest place (uh... place?). Bad things happen to good people, privleges are taken away, people treat you differently, there's death for people who never deserved it, and life for those who should be dead. All that jazz, right? The sad thing is that you come to accept it, become numb to everyone elses problems.
I'm sure you've heard that speech a hundred times over you lifetime, whether it be from teachers, parents, Oprah, etc. But at what point do those words really sink in? When does it hit you that your problems don't really matter in comparison to some of the problems others have? And that they need help much more than you do. Or does it hit you once, and then you forget, and then it hits you again and again and again over your entire lifetime? I don't know.
I don't know if I wrote about this here before, but I came to the conclusion a few weeks ago that I don't know anything. Nothing. Not one thing at all. And that was when I started reading philosophy. I don't know anything because I can't see the whole picture. And I want so badly to be able to see it, but I know that's near impossible. I'll probably go my whole life being ignorant, and there isn't really very much I can do about it.
Where do you go from there? The next step would be to start thinking about the things you do know for sure. Is there anything? Any one thing that you absolutely believe to be true? Something that can't be questoined? Didn't think so. And that is what makes everything so confusing.
Last night I wondered if my behavior is strange. I would like to know how many other people I know have mini-epiphanies all of the time. Whether it be in Geometry, Science, walking home from school, listening to music, writing this blog, falling asleep. It happens to me all of the time. And when it does happen, it really hits me. It hits me so hard that sometimes I'm winded. And I don't know what to do, because often this little epiphany happens to question my morals or person or knowledge: all the things I want to keep solid. And especially if it's in public, I don't want to have a melt down infront of the entire student body at my school.
I don't know why I'm writing this all down. These are my very, very personal thoughts, and I'm not sure whether I should be sharing them so publicly. But when I started this blog, I promised that if you read it, you would get to know me. And this is me. I should just title this entry with my name. Also, I might be writing it so that I can see if anyone out there relates. I know that not that many people read this, but if there is someone out there who happens to stumble upon this particular entry, and they know exactly what I'm talking about... Well, even if I never know if that happens, there's always that smallest chance. And having that chance makes me feel less alone.
Sorry that this entry has been so serious, but I guess I'm just in that kind of mood today. Thanks for reading everyone. I don't think you realize how much it means to me to be heard.
--A.R.N.
But it worked out pretty well, because I am so far away from feeling responsible today. And if I went, that is exactly what I would have to do: be responsible. Ungh.
I have some profound thoughts for you:
I've been thinking a lot lately. And the more and more I think, the more it seems like I'm coming full circle. I don't know it this is a good thing or a bad thing, because I thought I was making progress. But if it's just a circle, then there really isn't anywhere to go. So what's the point?
It's weird, you know. Life isn't really the fairest place (uh... place?). Bad things happen to good people, privleges are taken away, people treat you differently, there's death for people who never deserved it, and life for those who should be dead. All that jazz, right? The sad thing is that you come to accept it, become numb to everyone elses problems.
I'm sure you've heard that speech a hundred times over you lifetime, whether it be from teachers, parents, Oprah, etc. But at what point do those words really sink in? When does it hit you that your problems don't really matter in comparison to some of the problems others have? And that they need help much more than you do. Or does it hit you once, and then you forget, and then it hits you again and again and again over your entire lifetime? I don't know.
I don't know if I wrote about this here before, but I came to the conclusion a few weeks ago that I don't know anything. Nothing. Not one thing at all. And that was when I started reading philosophy. I don't know anything because I can't see the whole picture. And I want so badly to be able to see it, but I know that's near impossible. I'll probably go my whole life being ignorant, and there isn't really very much I can do about it.
Where do you go from there? The next step would be to start thinking about the things you do know for sure. Is there anything? Any one thing that you absolutely believe to be true? Something that can't be questoined? Didn't think so. And that is what makes everything so confusing.
Last night I wondered if my behavior is strange. I would like to know how many other people I know have mini-epiphanies all of the time. Whether it be in Geometry, Science, walking home from school, listening to music, writing this blog, falling asleep. It happens to me all of the time. And when it does happen, it really hits me. It hits me so hard that sometimes I'm winded. And I don't know what to do, because often this little epiphany happens to question my morals or person or knowledge: all the things I want to keep solid. And especially if it's in public, I don't want to have a melt down infront of the entire student body at my school.
I don't know why I'm writing this all down. These are my very, very personal thoughts, and I'm not sure whether I should be sharing them so publicly. But when I started this blog, I promised that if you read it, you would get to know me. And this is me. I should just title this entry with my name. Also, I might be writing it so that I can see if anyone out there relates. I know that not that many people read this, but if there is someone out there who happens to stumble upon this particular entry, and they know exactly what I'm talking about... Well, even if I never know if that happens, there's always that smallest chance. And having that chance makes me feel less alone.
Sorry that this entry has been so serious, but I guess I'm just in that kind of mood today. Thanks for reading everyone. I don't think you realize how much it means to me to be heard.
--A.R.N.
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
It's been a long, long time
Sorry. I've been busy writing music, and therefore I haven't had much time to write on my blog.
You see, with me, I'll get this urge to write or lyricize or design a dress or do something creative, and if I don't bend to that whim, then it's gone faster than I can count to three. When I'm inspired, everything else takes a back seat. I hardly do anything until I've made some head way on my project.
But it's okay to write my blog now, because I'm too tired to do anything else productive.
On with the announcements:
My mom has been pestering me for my blog address. She says that if I give her the address, then she's sure she will be able to find mine. And I've tried to explain to her, again and again, that I have my OWN website, and If I gave her the address, then it would take her directly there. But I won't give it to her because what I write here isn't always mom-appropriate.
Do you remember way, way back in January sometime, when I wrote that I wanted to start collecting experiences, and that I was ABSOLUTELY going to the Jack's Mannequin concert? Well.... maybe not. I forgot that in order to gain experience, you must prepare for it, and I failed to do this by not pre-ordering tickets. The show is sold out. Damn.
Story corner will be returning after this week. Hopefully. I can't guarantee that is will, because I might start writing my music again. But that is the plan.
I've been staying up every night writing idiotic letters to famous people. And I'm so fucking tired because of it. Now, I don't usually use that particular swear word, but I'm too tired to behave. All morning, the only word running through my brain was "FUuuuuuuCK!" I don't even know why. Nothing was really wrong.
But do you ever have those days when you just want to scream some obscene language at the top of your lungs?
Today was one of those days for me. So, now I'm going to silently (In the sense that you can here it) do just that. Just remember: words can speak pretty loudly, so if you're against swearing (cough, cough* Tcat) then you should probably skip over the next few lines.
FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFfffffffffffffffffffffUUUUUUUUUUUUuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuCCCCCCCCCCCCcccccKKKKKKKKKKKKkkkkk!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Fuckmylifefuckthisinsomniafuckmyinabilitytowritefuckmyfuckinginadequitvocabularyfuckmeagher.
Fuckfuckfuckfuckwhyis"fuck"evenafuckingswearword?FuckFuckFuckFuckFuck.
HeyfuckrhymeswithDuck.
Ddddddddduuuuuuuuuuccccccckkkkkkkk!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I apologize. That was extremely rude of me, but completely necessary.
Okay, announcements are over.
So I made a summer wish list from my favorite online clothes store. Modcloth? Heard of it? Anyway, it was really therapeutic to just shop for hours and hours and to just add item after item until I had completely rebuilt my entire wardrobe.
What else was I going to say....?
Do you want a snippet of my song? I can give you the rough version of my Chorus. Here it is:
And I've been stuck so long inside of your
Velocity
But I'm headed in my own direction now
Being trapped inside your head is not exactly ideal
Move so fast, it's harder to slow down
That was the main gist. I'm probably going to edit the words, maybe take out some lines all together. I wrote a whole other song, but the lyrics don't make a lot of sense, and I haven't written a melody for it yet.
OHHH! I remember what I was going to say. I have a BUNCH of Geometry stories for you. Let's get started.
Last Week:
(This one is kind of short)
I walk into class and sit down into my urine-soaked-sand colored desk, and immediately set to work doodling on the surface of it. Not long after I sit down, Sumo comes and plops down behind me. The whole room shakes when he does this.
Crappyman starts talking, and I'm not really listening. I'm just doodling on my desk, minding my own business; that's how mine and Crappyman's relationship usually works. He doesn't bother me, I don't bother him.
But then he starts pairing us off. I look around, trying to discern a pattern in his usually predictable behavior, trying to figure out who my partner will be. But to my horror, the pairing seems random, and I'm not really sure who I'll be stuck with.
I end up with Sumo. Now, keep in mind I still have no idea what we are doing, why we need partners. So I turn in my seat and open my mouth to say "whaaaaa? What are we doing?" but just in time I realize how stupid that sounds and shut my mouth. I sort of recall him saying that we were going to do some problem on some page in our mediocre Geometry text book (which is bigger that Sumo there behind me.). Instead I just ask what page, blushing because I still end up sounding stupid, even if it's not the same degree as it would have been before I revised my question.
I look up, and then I realize something. Sumo has blue eyes. Very pretty blue eyes. And I think to myself, "Oh. Wow. Maybe I misjudged this guy." After all, eyes are the window to the soul, blah blah, all that shit. And he has, (excuse the use of the word, but there really isn't any other way to describe it) nice eyes.
He's also good at Geometry, which could be because he is a senior (or something like that) and he is still in this class. But I feel really stupid next to him, because here I am forming an opinion on Sumo before I even know him. Not only that, but my brain just won't conform with the standards of Geometry this morning, so it's taking me like 10 minutes to read the question, and another 10 to solve it. Snail pace.
And he's getting all of the answers really fast, and I'm not, and I can feel myself blushing because I'm acting so stupid this morning.
The moral of the story: Don't judge. Sumo seems like a good guy. And he really isn't that big. And he has nice eyes. Oh, and I have a confession... His name isn't really Sumo. He has an ACTUAL name, that's normal and completely not Asian.
I hope he comes back to class soon; he's been missing for the whole week.
(NOTE: I went back and reread this, and it seems an awful lot like I'm crushing on Sumo. I'm NOT. I just happen to be good at observing things, and I can admit when I've been wrong about someone. Just thought I'd let you know that before you go jumping to conclusions.)
I had another story to share, but I think I'll save that one for later because I'm sooooo tired I can't even blink anymore. See, look. I'm not blinking. I don't think I've blinked in the past five minutes. And even now that I'm thinking about blinking, I can't. See? LOOK!
Oh wait. You can't see me. Well, you'll just have to trust me on this.
Am I making sense anymore?
No. That's what I thought.
Thanks for reading!
You see, with me, I'll get this urge to write or lyricize or design a dress or do something creative, and if I don't bend to that whim, then it's gone faster than I can count to three. When I'm inspired, everything else takes a back seat. I hardly do anything until I've made some head way on my project.
But it's okay to write my blog now, because I'm too tired to do anything else productive.
On with the announcements:
My mom has been pestering me for my blog address. She says that if I give her the address, then she's sure she will be able to find mine. And I've tried to explain to her, again and again, that I have my OWN website, and If I gave her the address, then it would take her directly there. But I won't give it to her because what I write here isn't always mom-appropriate.
Do you remember way, way back in January sometime, when I wrote that I wanted to start collecting experiences, and that I was ABSOLUTELY going to the Jack's Mannequin concert? Well.... maybe not. I forgot that in order to gain experience, you must prepare for it, and I failed to do this by not pre-ordering tickets. The show is sold out. Damn.
Story corner will be returning after this week. Hopefully. I can't guarantee that is will, because I might start writing my music again. But that is the plan.
I've been staying up every night writing idiotic letters to famous people. And I'm so fucking tired because of it. Now, I don't usually use that particular swear word, but I'm too tired to behave. All morning, the only word running through my brain was "FUuuuuuuCK!" I don't even know why. Nothing was really wrong.
But do you ever have those days when you just want to scream some obscene language at the top of your lungs?
Today was one of those days for me. So, now I'm going to silently (In the sense that you can here it) do just that. Just remember: words can speak pretty loudly, so if you're against swearing (cough, cough* Tcat) then you should probably skip over the next few lines.
FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFfffffffffffffffffffffUUUUUUUUUUUUuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuCCCCCCCCCCCCcccccKKKKKKKKKKKKkkkkk!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Fuckmylifefuckthisinsomniafuckmyinabilitytowritefuckmyfuckinginadequitvocabularyfuckmeagher.
Fuckfuckfuckfuckwhyis"fuck"evenafuckingswearword?FuckFuckFuckFuckFuck.
HeyfuckrhymeswithDuck.
Ddddddddduuuuuuuuuuccccccckkkkkkkk!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I apologize. That was extremely rude of me, but completely necessary.
Okay, announcements are over.
So I made a summer wish list from my favorite online clothes store. Modcloth? Heard of it? Anyway, it was really therapeutic to just shop for hours and hours and to just add item after item until I had completely rebuilt my entire wardrobe.
What else was I going to say....?
Do you want a snippet of my song? I can give you the rough version of my Chorus. Here it is:
And I've been stuck so long inside of your
Velocity
But I'm headed in my own direction now
Being trapped inside your head is not exactly ideal
Move so fast, it's harder to slow down
That was the main gist. I'm probably going to edit the words, maybe take out some lines all together. I wrote a whole other song, but the lyrics don't make a lot of sense, and I haven't written a melody for it yet.
OHHH! I remember what I was going to say. I have a BUNCH of Geometry stories for you. Let's get started.
Last Week:
(This one is kind of short)
I walk into class and sit down into my urine-soaked-sand colored desk, and immediately set to work doodling on the surface of it. Not long after I sit down, Sumo comes and plops down behind me. The whole room shakes when he does this.
Crappyman starts talking, and I'm not really listening. I'm just doodling on my desk, minding my own business; that's how mine and Crappyman's relationship usually works. He doesn't bother me, I don't bother him.
But then he starts pairing us off. I look around, trying to discern a pattern in his usually predictable behavior, trying to figure out who my partner will be. But to my horror, the pairing seems random, and I'm not really sure who I'll be stuck with.
I end up with Sumo. Now, keep in mind I still have no idea what we are doing, why we need partners. So I turn in my seat and open my mouth to say "whaaaaa? What are we doing?" but just in time I realize how stupid that sounds and shut my mouth. I sort of recall him saying that we were going to do some problem on some page in our mediocre Geometry text book (which is bigger that Sumo there behind me.). Instead I just ask what page, blushing because I still end up sounding stupid, even if it's not the same degree as it would have been before I revised my question.
I look up, and then I realize something. Sumo has blue eyes. Very pretty blue eyes. And I think to myself, "Oh. Wow. Maybe I misjudged this guy." After all, eyes are the window to the soul, blah blah, all that shit. And he has, (excuse the use of the word, but there really isn't any other way to describe it) nice eyes.
He's also good at Geometry, which could be because he is a senior (or something like that) and he is still in this class. But I feel really stupid next to him, because here I am forming an opinion on Sumo before I even know him. Not only that, but my brain just won't conform with the standards of Geometry this morning, so it's taking me like 10 minutes to read the question, and another 10 to solve it. Snail pace.
And he's getting all of the answers really fast, and I'm not, and I can feel myself blushing because I'm acting so stupid this morning.
The moral of the story: Don't judge. Sumo seems like a good guy. And he really isn't that big. And he has nice eyes. Oh, and I have a confession... His name isn't really Sumo. He has an ACTUAL name, that's normal and completely not Asian.
I hope he comes back to class soon; he's been missing for the whole week.
(NOTE: I went back and reread this, and it seems an awful lot like I'm crushing on Sumo. I'm NOT. I just happen to be good at observing things, and I can admit when I've been wrong about someone. Just thought I'd let you know that before you go jumping to conclusions.)
I had another story to share, but I think I'll save that one for later because I'm sooooo tired I can't even blink anymore. See, look. I'm not blinking. I don't think I've blinked in the past five minutes. And even now that I'm thinking about blinking, I can't. See? LOOK!
Oh wait. You can't see me. Well, you'll just have to trust me on this.
Am I making sense anymore?
No. That's what I thought.
Thanks for reading!
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