wasting words on lowercases and capitals

For some reason I always think walls are white. Even in my house, where the walls are green, yellow, and in my bedroom are aqua/teal, I still think all walls are white. I guess it's a stereotypical color. Rarely do you see black walls. It's too dark. Makes the room feel dismal.

Brittle bones break beautifully. I dunno. I felt the need to say something alliterative. And the word brittle had just popped into my head.

One of my friends the other day stated that they put pictures in their blog to make it more interesting. They said that people nowadays aren't as interested in words. Words still work, but pictures just make things easier, more entertaining. i wonder if that's true. Maybe I'm fucked by my career choice.

I haven't shaved in awhile. My facial hair is sort of invisible anyway. It's noticeable close up under lighting, but when it's darker, or there's shadow, you can't see it. I don't think shaving's necessary right now. I'm not trying to impress no one.

I don't know why, but the song I have on right now is making me listen more to the music itself, the instrumentation, rather than the lyrics. As a lyricist, I'm confused. Lyrics make songs for me normally. I dunno, maybe a change is coming over me.

when the sun comes up you will realize you were wrong

I hate leaky faucets and broken piping. They remind me too much of myself. And of how cracked this world is. How far we can push other people away, because they have small problems that we implode into larger issues. We're all broken. I hate feeling more broken than you.

we will stand on solid ground

I'm not much for philosophical things. I can't write or speak like Aristotle or Kant or Dostoyevsky. I can't tell stories like Poe or Salinger, Twain or Vonnegut, whether I've been referred to as the next Vonnegut or not (and I have actually been called as such, but I politely disagree with this comparison). I can't paint you a portrait. I'm no Da Vinci, Dali, Picasso, or Klimt. I don't know the stars, I don't really know anything about the galaxies and universes except that there are stars, planets, moons, and black holes. Maybe I know more, but I could never compare in interstellar knowledge to NASA. I'm not much for athletics. I'm no Griffey, Gretzky, Montana, or Phelps. I'm not a king, a prince. I'm of no royal blood.

Simply, what I can offer to the world is trial and error. I can try writing and fail. Or I can succeed. It all depends on myself and society. I don't need to be famous or rich or anything. I don't care about finding anything important in this world. I know that what I've done thus far hasn't been much. I'm still trying though.

Sending shivers right down your spine

I'm in my robotic state again. This blog post might take me twenty minutes to type up. It's because when I find myself in this state I tend to stare at things, specifically inanimate objects that have no reason to be stared at. They're simply sitting in the room, and they draw my attention to themselves, and I stare, it takes a few seconds, even up to a minute for me to snap out of it. By that time, I'm already staring at something else.
I know what causes this state, but it's not worth mentioning here. I'm not gonna do anything about it either. I know what it means, I know what happens when I'm in it, I'm pretty aware, I'm okay. It's also is when I lie a lot. I just lied a minute ago. I'm not okay. I'm exhausted, frustrated, scared, depressed, and confused. I know why, but again, not mentioning it. It's not important.

I'm also in an increased state of ITunes ADD. I hate that. I just wanna listen to a damn song, but I can't let one finish. I can't, it's reflex.

I don't talk to people when I'm like this. I basically, I guess you say, become a shell. I'm withdrawn into myself. Like a turtle into its shell. That's how it's always been. When I'm robotic, emotionless (even though it's usually when I'm on the verge of snapping or crying, but neither ever comes, I remain robotic 'til it subsides), I tend to just stop. I observe the unimportance of the world. Little things that don't matter, that have no effect on me, no matter where they are or what they are. People become my enemies, no matter who they are. I become mute. I'm currently mute. That's why I'm typing. Because I can't open my mouth to speak. I don't want to. It even feels like I'm too weak to do it. I'm always too weak to do things.

And what's worse? No one, and I mean, no one, can snap me out of my robotic state. It has to pass on its own. I go as far as ignoring people to avoid speaking. I just don't wanna talk. I'd rather be alone, isolated, invisible. Music doesn't make me feel better either. It's just noise. There's no entertainment, no smiling, no dancing or singing. I merely stare at whatever I happen to be doing, whatever website I'm on, whatever homework assignment I'm working on, whatever is near me, I stare. I can type yes, but that's because my eyes rarely leave the screen, and like I said, when they do, I stare at objects.

I bet my eyes get dimmer when I'm like this. I sure hope so at least. There has to be some effect. I know I have no personality like this. I never smile, I just have dropping eyes and a stern look on my face, my lips are in more of a frown than anything. I guess you could say it's when I feel closest to being dead. I feel like nothing, just weight. I don't know existence, only staring and basic actions. I can't speak. Not like I have anything worth mentioning, nothing important at least.

you take my breath away

It always seems I'm in more of a writing mood at...3 or 4 in the morning. I think it's because I'm never doing anything at this time. I'm usually sleeping or procrastinating homework, or awake because I just finished my homework and if I do go to sleep I won't wake up for class on time. That's why I'm awake right now. Because I need to be awake for class by 9, preferably at 8:30. When I finished my first homework assignment it was 2:30, that would have left me six hours of sleep. Believe me, being the heavy sleeper I am, I would not have woke up for class, and if I did wake up, I'd fall back to sleep within seconds. So, I shall suffer through the day tired, but surviving and head to sleep early tonight.

I still have to write a paper about a short story I read earlier. That's due in my 9:30 class. It's easy enough though, basically pick a theme from the story (sidenote: Stacy's Mom just came on Itunes...good classic song...yes, classic) and write on it, using examples from the text. I'll get it done. That's why I'm allowing myself to procrastinate so much.

So lately what's been coming to mind for me is what I want from college. Yeah, I'm furthering my education and living away from home, trying to be adult, be more responsible. But, after four years, when I graduate, I don't really know what to expect. I can honestly say I'm frightened of the future. It's strange how a few years ago I just wanted to grow up and be done with high school. Now I miss high school. I wanted college so badly...and it's not as great as I built it up to be. Yes, it's college- there's homework, but you can do it on your own time, you get to choose your classes very specifically and at what time you'd like them, there are parties (though I do not partake in these whatsoever), and I'm away from home. But it's just... it's still school. And after I graduate with a degree (in hopefully Creative Writing), what's gonna happen? It's tough. I really don't know what I'm going to do if I can't sell a book. It'd destroy me and I'd be left with a dream shattered. Sure, I'll still be young, but I'd need some way to support myself, some type of job until writing worked out. I hope I get lucky and land something big.

My Ipod Touch is up in my room. I just thought of it because I wanted to check the weather for today. Then I'd just look at what the weather's like in Reykjavik, Iceland, just because it interests me.

Well, I'm gonna finish this paper, shower, get ready for breakfast, then get to class. Blogging off...that was awful. I'm not gonna bother with signing off ever again.

don't hold me up now

Do you ever feel like you want to stare at yourself in the mirror, but be two separate entities? What I mean is, being two different things, a creature in another dimension and yourself in reality, you could yell at your reflection, and it would listen. Your reflection then, when it fades as you leave the mirror's presence, would take over you, and you wouldn't make the same mistakes over and over. That's how I feel right now. I wanna scream at myself, but even my reflection probably wouldn't listen. Damn being stubborn.

we will mend statues from the ground to the skies

So I tried something again within the past ten minutes. I tried to play guitar. Key word is "tried". I sincerely need to find lessons at some point. I've had this thing sitting on its stand for the past 2 years or so and I pick it up every once in awhile, throw the strap over my shoulder and try to play. I just can't get a handle on it yet. Maybe someday though. Maybe with some help.

The reason I picked it up tonight was because I'm writing music and I figured since I'm working on lyrics, maybe for once I could put actual sound to it. But, apparently this evening, that will not be happening. I'll stick to singing for now...I do wish I'd learned piano though. I was taught piano, I took lessons when I was young, for about three years but I've forgotten it since then. I was then forced to learn it during sixth through eighth grades...that was a fail, literally. I failed piano three times over those three years. Not only did I fail, I failed in front of a crowd of students, teachers, and parents. It was nightmarish the first time, but the next two times it was just a simple walk of shame from the bench back to my seat in the crowd to watch the other students play their pieces and astound while I sat with head down, only clapping when it was necessary and for as short as I could while still being polite.

I really don't know why I struggle with instruments so much. I think it could have to do with my lack of passion for them. I used to love piano, like I said, I willingly took lessons for three years and would practice daily. I actually got pretty good for a kid. But then when the lessons ended, my care for the instrument dissipated and now I sit here, guitar over my shoulder, it hanging off my back quiet as it has been for the past two years. Again, hopefully some time soon I can start lessons. I don't care if I'm eighteen or if I could learn on my own, lessons make things easier. Then I have to continue practicing even when it grows boring...though knowing friends who play guitar and drums, it should never get boring.

Anyway, music-wise, I have been working on lyrics. I have nine songs complete, and I have about three or four that I've paused production in the middle. I'll get back to them eventually. My reasoning isn't necessarily because I want to start a band this summer, although that is something I want, I just write them. They allow for a release. It's like how poetry and short stories also work for me. Sometimes I write just to write. It's something I am passionate about, something I am willing to practice, because I want to be good and someday want to be successful because of it.

As for my wanting to start a band, I've wanted to for the past few years. Every summer I hatch this idea that I can just throw together a band, call up some friends and we can bash out a few songs and local shows. Well, it's never happened. This summer I'm taking the initiative and actually talking to people early. I'm finding out who of my friends plays an instrument, what instrument they play, what genres of music do they enjoy, everything that can be helpful. By summer, if things fall into place, a band is a possibility. I know I have a drummer, that's an upside. My best friend has been playing for quite awhile and I know he wants to be in a band, we always talked about it when we were younger. It's funny too. Someone told us the "how do you get to Carnegie Hall joke one time". We immediately went upstairs to his drum room, he sat down at the drumset and I had something for a mock microphone and we started just playing over and over "Practice baby, practice", as that was the answer to the joke. It was fun, we did that for a few days actually. Just playing because it was fun and practicing I guess. Maybe now we can complete a band lineup and start practicing for real.

To confront an issue I was struggling with in my last post, my poem wound up being one of the two winners in my CW class's voting. It was both sections voting on the four poems, and as I said, I was conflicted on whether to vote or not, to vote for my poem or not. I just didn't vote. When I found out I won, it was bittersweet, I just couldn't be excited because for some reason, not to sound conceited, I knew I was going to win. That's my strongest class, my strongest skill- writing. If I didn't win I surely would have been disappointed, but for some reason, winning with writing doesn't bring me excitement the way winning a pickup game of basketball or winning a raffle does. Maybe it's because I've been told I'm good at it. I know I'm mediocre at basketball, and raffles are based on luck, so maybe because it can't be predicted, well basketball can be (based on who your teammates are), but raffles are all luck. You can buy twenty tickets and lose, the winner having bought only one. It's all luck of the draw. It's exciting to win, because it is so unexpected. Well, I won anyways. So my poem will be put on those maple syrup bottles with the other poem, hopefully whoever receives that syrup likes what I wrote. Maybe they won't even read the poems, just empty the bottle on pancakes, waffles, all sorts of food, and toss the bottle in the trash. Maybe.

we're forgetting our forgiveness

I was gonna do this yesterday. I was sitting on my bed, computer open, and browser opened to this same page. It just didn't happen. I couldn't get myself to focus or to type. Maybe I really didn't wanna blog, but I felt like I died. A phantom wanting I guess. It could have all been on a whim. Who knows.

I have a severe case of ITunes ADD tonight. I keep letting about twenty seconds of a song play and then changing it. And if I do allow a song to play for longer, it never finishes completely, there are always a few seconds left when I tap the fast forward key to skip to the next song. I guess nothing fits my mood tonight. Frankly, I'm not even sure how I feel. Happy, sure. Sad, not really. Damn me for being cliche on those first two. Philosophical, no. I just feel a sense of...I'm probably gonna use this word wrong, but it's one thirty-seven, I have an excuse. I feel blase. Just indifferent I guess. It's probably because it's early morning on a Thursday, and it's so close to vacation, and I can't wait to see my girlfriend. It's a collection of things maybe.

My god am I a grammar nazi. Not even only grammar, spelling too. No, I don't consider those to go hand-in-hand. It's weird. I see a contraction written with no apostrophe, or a misuse of (their, there, they're), or a simple letter that somebody failed to type, and my mind starts whirring into motion and tells me "correct them, correct their failing". It's horrible really. It's as if my mind thinks I'm perfect. Maybe it's my fault. It could be. I mean, I certainly try as little as possible to "toot my own horn" as they say, but maybe I slip through the cracks sometimes, fall into the abyss of conceitedness. Today had a good example of my refusal to adore myself.
We have to vote for two out of four poems (sonnets, to be exact) for my creative writing class. The sonnets are written about maple syrup as a science class has the final project of extracted maple syrup and bottling it. The two poems which receive the most votes will be put on the bottles which will then be distributed to alumni, board members, and faculty I think. I at least know alumni and benefactors will be receiving them. Anyway, I read through the email today, and opened the attachment, the four poems opening in a text document. Well, figuring into my displeasure (well, not really displeasure, but I guess you'd call it...I don't really know) my poem was one of the four. Now, sure I was happy, but I also wasn't happy. I don't wanna vote. I can't vote for mine. I tried asking for advice from people. They could only say that if I think mine is one of the best two I should vote for mine. I can't though, I just can't do that. Sure I wanna win, but I'm gonna feel guilty if I do win, because I'd have voted for mine. Imagine the third place poem received one less vote than mine. If I'd voted for that poem, it'd be a tie. I'd feel better knowing I voted for two other people, and then won fair and square having others vote for me. I don't want to be responsible for my own success I guess is what I'm saying. Now that may sound weird, but it's true...It really makes no sense, well to some it might not. I just can't allow myself to vote for myself.
Another example is that people have told me before that I'm good at writing, and I sure hope I am since it's what I want to do with my life. I personally though don't like admitting I'm good at it or at anything else. It just feels self-centered and conceited. Maybe I am good at it, but I'd rather hear it from another person's mouth than my own. And so today a classmate of mine told me she'd been having a discussion with our CW teacher and I came up in conversation. Anyway, the gist of the story is that he said he thought I had a natural talent for writing. That made me happy, sure, but also I couldn't let it get to me. I like hearing people say I'm good at writing, that they enjoy something I've written, but myself, I'm my own worst enemy when it comes to writing. I hate my writing. It's never good enough, never will be good enough. I could have something published and I'd still think it could use work. I'm a perfectionist I guess, and since perfection doesn't exist (well, at least not to some people, well again, I don't know, maybe just not in writing, because there is one thing in the world I think of as perfect, but I digress) my writing will never be perfect, so I'll work and work for something I still consider worthless. Maybe I wouldn't be a good author. I mean...I'll never quite be satisfied with anything I write. That's gonna suck I guess. Maybe in time I'll be able to accept praise, maybe even pat myself on the back without getting big-headed. I'll try to remain level-headed...maybe I'm not even that right now. Maybe I'm tilted the other way...small-headed? I dunno what the word for it is.

I feel better this evening/morning/break of dawn(not a Twilight reference, and yes, I realize it's Breaking Dawn, I don't care) though. Just some small happenings, they feel a lot bigger than they are. I feel better knowing that I may be a bastard, and I've certainly been a bastard of late, to some people who matter a hell of a lot to me, I regret being that person. I don't really know what it is that drives me to that state of mind, action, but I need to fix it. Repair the cogs and gears to refuse any commands from my brain to set in motion the "bastard" programming. That's what I'll have to do. I'm happy though, like I said. Some people may not know it yet, but I'm gonna be better, I swear. I'm gonna be more of a friend and not a bitchy, ranting prick. Yes, I'm beating up on myself right now, but I deserve it. Maybe not so much with all the names, but I have been a prick and a bastard and I can admit it. And I can take credit for being that way, not intentionally, but it's happened. And I can now take control of it. The storm's on it's way out of town. And no, we're not in the eye, there won't be anymore destruction, tearing up of the roots of trees and foundations of anything, not relationships nor friendships, they'll stay intact this time. A new day's dawning (I need to really stop using that word, it keeps making me think of Twilight and that's bugging me) and the clearing will appear, a peaceful meadow where we can sit and picnic, I guess. I dunno why that was all so picturesque, I'm gonna stop with the imagery now. It's a bit annoying, even to me, and I adore imagery.

The pieces of the puzzle are...jesus christ. I'm done. I'm not writing anymore, for the sake of saving the trouble of using anymore metaphors or images or similes or any tools of English that will bore or annoy or cause anyone's mind to reel. It's too early to be talking like this. I'm done, serious this time. Wait...just noticed. I said the pieces of the puzzle are jesus christ. I guess jesus is a puzzle now. Dammit. DONE.

give it up, give it up, it's over, I'm broken down 'cause we're miles from sea to sea

It feels strange to be almost three-quarters of the way through my freshman year of college, laying down typing this, while in the background the plethora of music I've found since arriving on campus in September plays. I think it was around Novemeber when I first surprised myself by looking through my ITunes library and seeing how many of the bands on it then, I'd not heard of or ever listened to before college started. Now, my taste in music hasn't changed, I still listen to mostly Post-Hardcore and Metal, but a lot of the songs I like most right now are a mix of Post-Hardcore and Electronica. The simple addition of keyboard or synthesizer to the double bass and heavy breakdowns and screaming, has quite an interesting effect on the music as a whole. It just changes the atmosphere. It makes the song...more I don't really know...it sets a certain mood, and I like it. The songs often feel more upbeat, even with the hoarsely screamed and growled vocals, interspersed with high-pitched singing, there is a, I guess you'd call it, "happy" undertone. I really can't explain how that single instrument completely changes the setup of the music, but to me, it does, it allows for more freedom maybe, more musical freedom, instrumental freedom. It leaves the possibility to make the song more...original, more out-there.
As for my taste in music, it hasn't changed like I said, but it has expanded. I'm trying to be more open to different types of music. Now, I will say rap and hip-hop are always going to be on the outer-limits for me, they just don't suit me, it just feels too much like talking for me, but there are a few songs I can stand, some I even like. For example, out of my most-played songs, two of the top twenty-five are hip-hop. My roommate's even gotten me into Techno/electronic, specifically Jumpstyle which I had knowledge of prior to college, but have listened to a much wider variety since then. I've even given Country, my least favorite genre a try. I still can say, it doesn't strike me much, but there's a song every once in awhile I will like. I guess it just takes time and trying everything. I used to be narrow-minded about music, perhaps I still am, but I am at least willing to listen to some things. I am willing to test advice on music that friends give me. It's a trial-and-error process for me. Try it, if I like it, I keep it. If not, I continue trying things 'til I find something I do like.

Now, considering I haven't blogged in almost two months, and haven't blogged steadily for about two years, I'm still getting used to it again. So, maybe I'm rambling a bit, searching for words, but that's good I think. Maybe it's what I need. To struggle. To fight with myself over what sounds right. And then when I can't describe something I say it the best I can. Either way, it's getting out there. By just going on and on, whatever it is that's beating the shit out of my insides is becoming a part of the world wide web. It's becoming a part of this post on this blog on this website and so on. It's no longer beating me up, but becoming a tornado to rip through the internet and any person who reads what I write. So, though I ramble, I think it helps. It's soothing. And, you have an option, you can read it, but you don't have to. It's not like when someone is talking right next to you and you have to pretend to care. Or have to answer them, or even actually have to listen because they'll know if you're not. I'll never know if anyone actually reads this, and you don't have to. It'd be cool to know people read what I say, but frankly in the end, it's not gonna change any lives, not gonna change the world.

To talk about the this year of school, the first foray into the realm of college, it's been tough at times, beneficial at others, but it's all life experience. I struggled to keep my grades up first semester and found myself falling into the same pattern I followed throughout high school. I'd miss homework assignments, not study for quizzes and tests, and basically my grades reflected that at midterms first semester. After that, I stepped my work up a level, able to increase all of my grades by at least some percentage to finish the first semester with a fair enough GPA. No I won't give you the number, but it was one I'm used to seeing, and I can say that I'm not disappointed by. Certainly, it could have been higher, but again, I wasn't disappointed. I received what I earned, what I proved myself worthy of. Had I worked as hard as I did the second half of semester, the entire time, I'd have had a higher GPA, but like I said, it wasn't a disappointment, I'm fine with where I was after first semester.
Gradewise this second semester, I'm doing much better. I've gotten the workload under control, the whole "teachers don't care if you do homework or not, yes they do want you to succeed, but they're not gonna hunt you down or babysit you, you're on your own to do the work or not" thing understood.

Outside of grades, college has had it's ups and downs... to be cliche, it's been a rollercoaster. There are days when I'm perfectly happy and get along with anyone, and then there are days, mostly nights when I feel on the brink of blowing up. I usually "run" away on these nights. I'm antagonistic, easily agitated, and if allowed, I'd probably punch something- glass, a wall, a heavybag, but nothing presents itself. I deal with it though. I've had bouts of anger throughout my life, but I fight through them. And I have a girl who's always there by my side- when I'm a bastard to talk to, to get along with, and when I'm happiest, usually it's her making me happy.

As for friends, I've maintained most of them. I've made new ones. I've lost a few, but those were choices on both sides. I'd certainly try working to fix them, but it's only if both parties wish to cooperate that anything can be achieved. I still talk to my high school friends as much as I can, and I talk to my friends from home too. I see my college friends nearly every day and that's what makes college fun I guess- having people there every day, and being able to talk to someone, though they may be hundreds, thousands of miles away, and be able to say you love them and know they love you too. That's what relationships are worth- love, caring for someone, wanting to be with that person for the rest of your life. And friends may fall by the wayside, but if they're your true friend, they'll know you'll always be there for them. You can't always see them or always talk to them, but you'll try when opportunities arise. College is a tough transition but in the end, it'll be worth it right? All the debt and loans? Yeah, I think so. It's an education, the next step towards a career, and marriage, a family, and then eventually dying. But no need to dwell on the ending, it should be a long way off. Sometimes it comes sooner than we think, but we gotta think every day is a new one, and every day won't be the last one. Sure, we can live like every day is our last, it makes the best out of life, but we should pray that it won't ever be our last.

there's blood in the water, sinking, always, sinking

So, I just watched the end of the BCS National Championship game. I'm disappointed to see Alabama win, because for once, probably the only time ever, I was cheering on Texas. I haven't liked Texas since the Vince Young days because of the National Championship they won over USC on a Young touchdown run. It seems to be the iconic symbol of college football nowadays. But, after Colt McCoy, current Texas quarterback got injured on the first offensive drive of the game, my hopes for Texas to win dimmed. Then, this kid, Garret Gilbert comes in and is torn apart, is rushed by the 'Bama defense. He came around though, playing a pretty good second half, but lost a fumble on the Texas 3-yard-line with only 3 minutes remaining and that called an end to the chances of Texas coming back from a three-point deficit.

Now, with the score at 31-21, and only a minute-something remaining on the clock, Alabama ran the ball in for another touchdown. Normally, I'd be fine with this, but seeing how dejected the Longhorn's sidelines looked, the looks on all of the player's faces showing disappointment and defeat, it just showed unsportsmanlike play. When you've got control of a game, and your opponent only has one chance to stop the clock, meaning three kneeldowns would end the game, there is no need to score again. This was further opened when, after intercepting another ball with twenty-something seconds left, Alabama QB Greg McElroy kneeled down in the most slow-motion fashion possible, almost taunting the Texas players to hit him. One defensive-linemen almost obliged but was pushed back by an O-lineman. But in the end, it was a 'Bama win, whether they played unsportsmanlike or not (which they did do), they won. Mark Ingram, their running back became the sixth player to win the Heisman (undeservedly so) and the BCS National Championship in the same season.

To another year of college football, we'll see who comes out on top next year, my hopes are for USC, as is the same every year.

you can dance around the truth all you want but it won't change the outcome

So I spent my day at the mall with my girlfriend and some friends from school. We didn't really do much "shopping", more browsing. I bought a new video game (well, new for me, it's about 3 years old though). Then we went to dinner, pizza for all of us, and then to the movies to see Sherlock Holmes, the second time my girlfriend and I have seen it. Still worth seeing in my opinion.

I was going to post on this topic yesterday, but I decided to save it for today. Lately I've been seeing a lot of commercials for the People's Choice Awards and the Golden Globes and it got me thinking, there are too many awards shows. There are three- the Golden Globes, the Emmy's, and the Oscar's (Academy Awards)- revolving around Television and Movies. The Golden Globes and Emmy's both contain television awards. The Golden Globes and Oscar's have awards for movies. So, the Golden Globes is a mix of the Oscar's and Emmy's, which makes me think, why have all three? Why not just expand the Golden Globes to include every possible award for movie and television. I mean, sure, the show may take forever to air, but it'd save time slots later in the year where maybe a different special program could air, rather than another award show. I don't even watch them because frankly, I don't care who wins.

The same goes for music. Why is it necessary to have the Grammy's, the Country Music Awards, the American Music Awards, and the MTV Video Music Awards? This seems redundant to cover all of the genres with three awards shows (MTV, The Grammy's, and the AMA's) and then for one genre of music to insist on holding a show for only artists of that genre. Why not just have the Grammy's? Seeing as the Grammy's has awards under almost every genre, allows for not just American artists, but foreign as well, why not have this as the only awards show. It just seems unnecessary to have more than one when one show can sufficiently cover the spectrum of music awards.

he wears a slick jacket and gold watch

Today I finished reading a book for the second time in 2 days. It'd been at least a month since I'd completed a book, so it's a semi-accomplishment for me. The first book was Love You Hate You Miss You by Elizabeth Scott. It took me a lot longer to read than I expected. Not because it was hard or anything, I just would get into it and then get kinda bored. And then other days I'd just be too busy, so it took me about 3 weeks to finish. Then I just started the book All The Way by Andy Behrens. With three wide-open hours, I finished it, a straight-through read. What I've been thinking about all day is the last two chapters of the book. The plot (SPOILER ALERT: DO NOT KEEP READING IF YOU PLAN TO READ THIS BOOK) revolves around high-school senior-to-be Ian who is planning to visit this girl Danielle who he met online at her college the week before high school starts up again. He has her convinced he is this completely different guy than he really is and when she offers him sex, he finally takes the chance to visit her at SCSU (South Carolina Southern University). He has only three days to get there and then back to his home in Naperville, Illinois. Anyways, the part that has me thinking is when he finally is about to have sex with Danielle, her shirt off and his shirt off and them making out on her bed, the only two people he can think about are his two friends Lance and Felicia who had trekked along with him.

So he's about to have sex with this beautiful college sophomore who is about to leave for a semester abroad in Spain. On the entire trip down, the trio find themselves in comedic predicaments quite often, including being pulled over by a police officer in rural South Carolina, Felicia suffering from food poisoning, and Lance's urge to meet new girls carrying them off the trail. Throughout the trip Ian shows a caring side towards Felicia. She continues to tell Ian, as she is a virgin herself, that he is making the wrong choice, Not about him losing his virginity, but that he's going to do it with the wrong girl.

Now the final two chapters come up. Ian is about to have his first sexual experience and then he gets up, unravels himself from Danielle's body, grabs her shirt in his rush to leave, and tells her he has to go do something. She calls out her dorm window to him, but he just runs to Lance who is being his persuasive self with two drunk sorority girls, and asks him where Felicia is. Felicia is back at Ian's car which died on them as soon as they reached Charleston, South Carolina. He finds her laying on the trunk of the car and explains to her he didn't have sex with Danielle, and he thinks he's in love. With her. The chapter ends with them kissing.

The final chapter involves Ian and his friends trip back to Illinois on Amtrak. Felicia is asleep, head in Ian's lap, and he is calling his boss at Dunkin' Donuts to say that he will be quitting, and that the boss, Ron, should contact the regional manager because they're gonna need a new doughnut suit, as the one Ian had in his car has been a victim to the road trip's many misadventures.

So the second-to-last chapter got me thinking. It feels like nowadays, in this generation of teens that virginity is just a throw-away sort-of thing. It's like something that holds you back, if you don't get rid of it, it'll haunt you. You feel less "cool" when all of your friends have had sex, but you haven't. Well, Felicia had good points throughout the story. Ian did not love Danielle, had never even met her in fact. Now, in today's society, sex is certainly not viewed as something "done between a loving couple", some people see it that way, but sadly, the majority don't. It's something fun, not a further connection between two people who love each other, but something to do to release that sexual tension within. Now I'm not one of those religious "don't have sex until you're married or else you're a sinner" kind of people, but I do believe the first time should be with someone you love. Whether it be with your first girlfriend, second girlfriend, even fifth girlfriend, though that means you clearly aren't looking for a relationship, or are not mature enough to handle one long-term. If you wait 'til marriage, well then that's guaranteeing you lose your virginity to someone you love. But again, I certainly am not saying that's necessary, I actually believe that "law" is irrelevant in today's society because it was written some thousands of years ago. I do however, believe sex should be between a loving couple, which would mean waiting until you've been in a relationship at least four months or so. Just an opinion.

when the sky turns gray I'll pray for a better day

I don't really have much to say today. If lies are a rainstorm, then liars better beware of a hurricane coming towards them. That's about it.

I'm stranded to this ship left to fall with a crash of the waves

The Houston Texans played today, fighting for their playoff lives. And they won, a nail-biter (at least for me, which isn't saying much since I have a habit of biting my nails anyways) against the Patriots. Now some fans have already started saying, the Pats would have won had they used their starters the whole game. Well... they played most of the game, so don't try to make excuses. They lost, that's all there is to it. Sure, Tom Brady didn't play the last drive, but he did throw an interception the drive before. So technically, you can blame a starter. And now I'm left to hope on two teams losing. I got one so far, the Chiefs beating the Broncos, but the Raiders were unable to defeat the Ravens, and I sit here watching the Jets thus far dominate the Bengals. The Jets need to lose for the Texans to make the playoffs.

But above the playoffs, this season becomes the first in Texans decade-long franchise history, where they've finished with a winning record. And even though he had struggled, missing an extra point, 2 field goals, Kris Brown received a hug from owner Bob McNair. 9-7. That's their record. Last year they finished 8-8. Close, but falling just short. It's been an uphill climb for the team since their inception, and with the youth gaining experience and the draft picks proving their worth, such as Brian Cushing, the rookie linebacker who is going to the Prow Bowl this year, and Mario Williams, a draft pick of a few years ago who has dominated quarterbacks since his rookie season. 9-7. A winning season, and if they do make the playoffs (which right now hangs in the balance as the Jets are handling the Bengals easily), it will certainly be a Winning season.

your days are no longer lined with scarlet thread

"I drop my guns, fall to my knees. you took her life, take mine please". Favorite part of the song that's on right now. Just played. The Best There Was by A Girl A Gun A Ghost. Reminds me of last school year, listened to it at least once on the bus ride home every day. 

What I've been thinking about most of today is sports letdowns. I watched the Liberty Bowl earlier between East Carolina and Arkansas, cheering of course for the ECU Pirates since I considered attending that school. And so I guess you could say, being a fan, I got ahead of myself. Figured they'd win when they were only winning 10-3 in the first half. Too much time left to start putting a W down in the books. And so the game went into the 4th quarter tied 17-17, and ECU had their chances, but the cold temperatures wreaked havoc on their kicker. He had a chance to put them ahead 20-17. The Arkansas coach called a timeout right before the snap to "ice the kicker, pun intended" as the commentator said. He missed, the ball hitting the left upright. He then was given another opportunity, this time with only three seconds remaining on the clock. He pushed it wide right.

Overtime comes, ECU gets the ball first, they move it eight yards, come to a 4th & 2, set up for a field goal. And wouldn't you know it, he missed again. Arkansas took control, ran three plays, set up for a field goal and as fate would have it, the kicker from Arkansas put it straight through the center of the uprights. And ECU had lost. And the win I had set in my mind went by the boards, and I was let down. And as we all know, this happens to all of us. We think it's over, but it's not over 'til the clock strikes double zero and the two teams are heading back to their respective locker rooms and the fans are exiting towards the parking lots.

Sometimes we put all of the blame upon one player or only the coach for a loss. But it's never one thing that leads to a losing effort. Many mistakes adding together may bring a team to lose, but never is it one single play, player, or coach who should be fully blamed. And as most players say, "there are more than just one guy out there on the (court, field, ice), it's on all of us, not one of us. we play as a team. we win as a team. we lose as a team." and that's the attitude everyone should live by. No one person is to blame for losing.

And who's to say we shouldn't blame the sporting gods. I'm sure they have a hand in the downfall of our favorite team. Maybe they're fans of our opponent, maybe they think we win too much. Whatever the cause, we will be let down sometimes. But it's never the end of the world. As has been said by too many people over time, "there's always next year" and though the sting of losing a championship may stay with us for awhile, it disappears as soon as the hopes for a championship come around at the start of that next season.

This evening I watched an ESPN special recounting the greatest sports moments of the last decade. So many championships won, heartbreaking losses, post-game outbursts, injuries, tearful retirement speeches, lives lost within the sporting community, scandals, and in all of that, fans sticking to their guns, cheering for their teams. Through thick and thin, true sports fans stay with their team for it all. Through eighty-six years without a championship, through one-hundred years plus of continuing suffering, through losing star players to free agency, and through the emergence of a surprise rookie, who soon enough becomes a team leader. Sports are here to stay, to entertain, and to send our emotions on the roller-coaster they've been riding on since the first time we heard about touchdowns, home runs, goals, everything, on the radio and on television. We've been hooked. And the new decade is sure to be chock-full of thrills, spills, and chills running down our spines as our team tries to march downfield for a game-winning score. And we'll watch the outcome, tear our hair out with each loss and gloat with each win, but no matter the result, we'll be sports fans through and through.

all of what we know is about to end

Spent New Year's eve with some friends and my girlfriend. We talked for awhile over greek food and then deserts, including some sort of almond cookies and baklava. Following was a game of Apples to Apples, watching the ball drop on TV, a game of Texas Hold 'em (I lost seven bucks in quarters), and then I watched everyone play a game of BS and Spoons. Later we watched It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia for two episodes and then it was lights out on the party.

Woke in the morning, extremely tired. My girlfriend wouldn't let me get back to sleep either, since we'd be leaving soon enough (wound up being a good hour and a half later, mostly of my fault), and then Wendy's was lunch.

Tonight I watched the beginning half of the movie Space Jam. Reminds me of childhood, mainly the reason why I asked for it in the first place. Watched How I Met Your Mother with my girlfriend. And today, on the first day of 2010, I'm already realizing I hate my resolution. No soda for me is like... no stealing for a klepto, no drinking for an alcoholic, no porn for a sex addict. I drink soda almost daily, but it's become a drain on money at school and I needa start myself on a healthier diet, that means no soda. Sure I could limit myself to maybe one every other week, but believe me, the limitation could only last so long, so for now I'm swearing off the stuff, at least for the year.

And speaking of it being a new year, the past year, 2009 was a pretty damn good one. Graduated high school, started college, maintained my ongoing relationship of almost thirteen months, started new stories, got my first job and made some real money for once, met new friends, got my driver's license on the second attempt. There's probably a lot more I could name, but I'm not gunna.

So, in remembering the year that was 2009, and the decade that it completed, here's to hoping 2010 matches and goes beyond the experiences of 2009.