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.