Over the hills and far away...

That is a wonderful song. Obviously a Nightwish song, for those of you who are not into symphonic metal. Quite an interesting genre, definitely one of Nightwish's better pieces. Anyway, this is not the topic with which I want to bother you with today. I have quite an abundance of knowledge to dispense henceforth, for I have desired to blog for some days now, but have been otherwise occupied or unable to do so. Mostly this is due to homework, or on occasion this beautiful girl that I know who requires frequent attention, and who's absolute beauty and charming personality I can not help but give that which she requires. Yeah.

So anyway. On to more important matters, for the time being. I would like to briefly mention that I am indeed writing again. Coincidentally, or possibly not - depending on what you believe, it coincides with my reading again. And my language, both talking and writing, has picked up as well, again linked somehow to my reading. I think the language is in its turn linked to the reading of Jane Eyre by Charlotte Brontë. And later I will have a quote from that novel to further prove a point I wish to make amongst my rantings. As for the general writing, I believe that is linked to the rereading of Dune by Frank Herbert, which I actually have not picked up in several days due to my own writing and the stressful pressures of homework.

I must catch up and stay ahead of my homework for I am soon to be in possession of a job, which will require lots of labourous hours from me. But the advantage will be that I will have money and then can save up for those items which I mentioned in a previous blog.

However, I digress. I guess I don't need WoW (World of Warcraft), or anything else related to video games. I do relish in the fact that I have again picked up on MTG (Magic: The Gathering), but I don't need that either. All I need is the company of a good book, and my own writings. I think what is so special about Jane Eyre is that it is so remarkably simple. An essay by Virginia Woolf on the novels of Jane Eyre by Charlotte Brontë and Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë, simplifies this for me. Woolf states that in her opinion these two women writers are poets, not novelists, however they both attempted to write novels. This fact engenders a simple minded story. Now I mean this in no offensive way, quite the contrary I enjoy this aspect. These novels are very poetic in language, actually often using nature to lend themselves to descriptions of many things. This simple aspect, this elementary nature of characters and problems, does not require vast amounts of attention to over analysis of human nature or human problems. Conflict and resolution rise and fall in the most "mundane" of ways, but in fact are the most realistic and natural of all. The story is not over laden in masculine need to over think every situation. It is so nice to be able to read, and enjoy, an assigned work. Even though the language is still taxing and complicated, it is because it is rich with poetic details and vivid imagery. It is so nice to be able to take this work and understand its undercurrents because of its simplicity.

Some may recall that I am a person of pronounced simplicity. There are those who disagree, and say that I have depth and that depth is complicated. But I say that true depth is simple. I say this because so many read too deep into things. I care about the emotions presented on the surface, the initial reactions, not that which requires deep thought and great education. I don't care if one can pull out references to this and that great work of mass obscurity to the general public. I care to reach the masses with references that everyone know, which is not to say that I want to mass produce crap or that I want to use only pop culture references, but I want to strike deep into the cord of the middle class man, which in my view is still a very uneducated class. It is filled with those who do not try, who do not succeed, who are oppressed, who use excuses as the crutch of existence, and it is these whom I value above all others in the world.

So as you can see this novel has had a profound effect on my thinking. It really makes me think about all the praise I got in HS about my poetry. Up until this point I took slight offense to such statements, for I wish to write prose. However, these new thoughts, and in particular Jane Eyre and Charlotte Brontë have given me new cause to rejoice. I can indeed write my prose, and incorporate the poetic language, and be satisfied. I can write simply and effect the appropriate masses with my style.

And because I feel like quoting and further proving a point I have always cared to make, I will.

"'No; I know I should think well of myself; but that is not enough: if others don't love me, I would rather die than live - I cannot bear to be solitary and hated, Helen. Look here; to gain some real affection from you, or Miss Temple, or any other whom I truly love, I would willingly submit to have the bone of my arm broken, or to let a bull toss me, or to stand behind a kicking horse, and let it dash its hoof at my chest,' -
'Hush, Jane! you think too much of the love of human beings, you are too impulsive, too vehement: the sovereign hand that created your frame, and put life into it, has provided you with other resources than your feeble self, or than creatures feeble as you. Besides this earth, and besides the race of men, there is an invisible world and a kingdom of spirits: that world is round us, for it is everywhere; and those spirits watch us, for they are commissioned to guard us; and if we were dying in pain and shame, if scorn smote us on all sides, and hatred crushed us, angels see our tortures, recognize our innocence (if innocent we be: as I know you are of this charge which Mr. Brocklehurst has weakly and pompously repeated at second-hand from Mrs. Reed; for I read a sincere nature in your ardent eyes and on your clear front), and God waits only the separation of spirit from flesh to crown use with a full reward. Why, then, should we ever sink overwhelmed with distress, when life is so soon over, and death is so certain an entrance to happiness - to glory?'"

Now I must discourse some wild accusations first. I am not saying that I require the love of mankind to make me happy. No I am not partial to the ways and teachings of Jesus and God. Both of these things are mentioned here, but I take a different stand, and my message is somewhere buried here. I would gladly sacrifice body and mind for others. I also believe that requiring happiness to be based on the fleeting whims of mankind is an artifice of the worse kind. It brings the greatest beings to their knees, as seen in this scene of Jane Eyre. I believe that one should rely on oneself and what one believes in for happiness and only use mankind as a way of sharing that happiness with others. I will not lie and say I do not get depressed and that I do not require the advice and solace of friends and companions, but I also maintain that my solitude is important and can make me equally as happy in a dire situation. It is a good balance of knowledge and beliefs, and it shocks me to see how many falter in this capacity, even some of the most pious.

Now to bring this rather lengthy rant to a close, I would like to mention some things which also occupied my mind after a discussion in my other Literature class. Taking into consideration some of the beliefs of Gilgamesh my teacher dispensed knowledge like a fountain. He is quite a remarkable guy, but one thing in Tuesday's class stood out. It made me think of a phrase I have often found myself repeating, not only to myself, but to my father: It is not about the money. I have maintained my position and found it a struggle against my fathers, to say that I do not attend school for the money. I do not choose CCNE for its price, neither cheap nor expensive, nor do I attend an art school with the illusion that I will make money. I do not over burden myself with options so as to make sure that I can come out of college with a steady possibility of monetary earnings. There will be plenty of time to return to school, or pick up one or two classes here or there to fulfill any future desire for education. For that is why I am truly here: learning. I wish to learn. I wish to tap into fountains and other forms of dispersion of knowledge. I would take everything I can from this college. While I am here I will not seclude myself to my major, I will take advantage of every opportunity.

But opportunities may not lead to a steady income at a later part of my life. And I do not fear this. I still do not make my decisions based on money. I will not succumb to that which has corrupted and ruined many a great part of society. I know money is necessary to live, but in reality it is also not necessary to live. Doing what I love to do and what will make me happy is the only thing that is necessary to live. I know money is necessary to support a family and to support expensive items and luxuries. But those things are not needed. And if at some point I do require those things, I will make the decision when I get there. For if I have indeed amassed as much knowledge as I can, I will present myself with enough opportunity and skill and resources to find a way to manage enough money to make ends meet and provide for luxury and family. So no father, it is not about the money. It never was, and never will be. It is about learning. It is about filling my brain with all the information this world can offer. It is about one day instilling that into a form which future generations will hopefully appreciate. And that is what I shall endeavor to do.

Thanks for reading, as always. I hope this wasn't too much, or overly cute for those whom these statements apply.

Fucked Up

I am fucked up. I know it. You should know it. Let's just agree to it from the start. It will make things so much easier. Then I can talk about what I want to talk about and you don't have to say I'm stupid or retarded or fucked up or wrong or anything. It will make my day go a lot smoother and probably yours too.

I don't bash religion, I don't mean to hurt your feelings when I comment on religions. You're right, I do have my beliefs and so do you. I may not try to be polite about my religious banter and how I go about commenting on your faith. I may sound like I am trying to hollow out what you believe. But reality is that there is no proof either way, and what I do is not me trying to make you question your faith. However, if what I do say does make you question it or get upset, well I'm sorry. It's too bad because you are reacting over nothing. I feel bad when you do get upset, but in reality it's just silly. I think there is more to it than that, but that is okay. What I think is irrelevant, remember.

I don't want to have sex with a condom if I can help it. It isn't for some stupid petty feeling better reason. It is just because that is my life choice at this time. If I am clean and my partner is clean and my partner is on the pill, then I don't see the point of using one. It raises the protection against a baby by .2%. Now if the girl is irregular about her pill, then I will be more cautious. However, if she is taking it like it is supposed to be taken, .2% is not going to matter much. I don't take unnecessary risk, I am a safe person. But I don't believe in overkill and worrying and being "extra" safe. Safe is safe, end of point.

Now if that conflicts with the beliefs of my partner and I choose not to have sex because of it, then I am helping all you people who are arguing for me practicing "safer" sex. Because what is the safest boys and girls? That is right, abstinence. If that pisses you or my partner off, then I am sorry. It is my choice and my condition. We all have them, it is how society is built. It's not penalizing her for her beliefs because sex isn't that important. It shouldn't be the defining characteristic of a relationship to the point where it breaks the relationship. A relationship that is about love, which coincidentally I believe I have found or which I intend in only involving myself in from this point on in my life, is not about fucking till the first rays of the morning, or about fucked up beliefs. It is about compromise. Both people have to give in on some ground. And you know what, it won't be decided until it is brought up between us. Until then, nothing is for sure. There is two people, there are millions of circumstances and conditions and reasons for changing ones mind. HEY! I might even be talked into such things. However, that is for the time that it happens, not before. Until then I have my beliefs and they will be as fucked up as I want them to be.

Muchos gracias to all.

I

think civil conversations are wonderful. I enjoy them very much. Less pain now. Less bent and broken.
Still don't think I was meant for much more though.

Today was a good day, after 6:22 that is and most especially after 7:56. I finally grew a set and said something, anything. I'm glad I did it.

A couple shots to the gut, but I deserve them.

MTG

Yeah so I've gotten into Magic the Gathering again. This is a lot of fun... but potentially bad. Two nights in a row staying up til 430. I hope my schoolwork doesn't suffer. :- /

In other news. I'm no longer politically neutral, I think I'm gonna register to vote.

Chasing Cars

Is so fun.

I love it. I think about it every night at 11. It completes my day. I don't care if she gets all weird about being scared or upset. It is sorta cute and sorta "shhhh stop worrying." Then it just degrades into me being me and her being her. And that ends up so wonderful.

There were all those nice times with S. But honestly, it does take finding out what love isn't to learn what love is. And not that she wasn't love, and I don't think that it was us rushing any longer. I just think there was no connection at a deeper level.

But there is here. Holy crap is it amazing. Having that, "friends first" as they call it, background. It does cause more worry, but at the same time it makes things so much better. There are no dancing around things, no awkward conversations, no tip toeing over matters. You may still worry and may still not want things to change. But who wants to be mad at someone they love? Not me. But it is a necessary part of a relationship, and fixing it so that you are no longer mad is a very good thing to have in a relationship. So we can work on that.

But not worrying about what to say is good. Having so much knowledge already helps. It allows for more time to explore and learn together, and less catching up and learning the past.

So let us toast to the past, live in the present, and let the gods bless the future.

Bragging Rights

Do I rightly have bragging rights? I got a 4 on the AP Calculus exam. I know I'm not the only one, I'm not the first, nor am I the last. But still that score is going to be with me forever. No I didn't choose to use it so I didn't have to take a math course in college. Yes it's because I love math. Still... I feel I can say what I did without measure for people to hate me. I try to be selfless. It's hard and not something born of the human genome. So spare me the jealousy issues and such and such. Everyone in the world is better than me, but I still try to make my course.

In other news... I have nothing to report. :- /
I should read and do hw, but I don't feel like it. :- P
Meh, maybe I will before I go out for the evening. :- )

CCNE

So there was no hot water this morning. So I can't take a shower. >:- |
This is annoying.

...

I wonder if anyone else will agree that I give too much for this fucking world sometimes.
Yes I know who doesn't agree and why, so if you offer your two cents please spare me the bitching rant. Actually, no, save yourself the trouble. I know, you know, that is all that matters.
And those who do agree, thank you. I really put up with a lot more than most think. Especially when the end result hurts, it is a lot easier to construe me as horrible. But if that helps you sleep at night, then so be it. Slander my name all up and down. I'll manage somehow.

Bahhhhh

Ladida. That is right. Ladida. I am chasing cars quite often now. It's good.
I am also single. I broke up with Shannon. Yeah. I didn't do it in the most amazing and painless of ways, but since when is breaking up painless. Oh well. Things went sour, and bitterness was displayed. Emotions ran high and some things exploded and were taken the wrong way. Stupid emotion, it alters the mind too much and so many are incapable of realizing it.
But the cloud has settled some, which is good.
And so I move on, for what else is there to do?
Moving on has commenced in full. Some might be bitter at how fast and in which direction, but I've come to realize my heart was given away a long time ago. It took abandonment to see it, but that is okay.
And in light of this, I have rediscovered something very important to me. Dune is an amazing book. It has harbored many of my beliefs and emotions. Including my plan for my back and my minute attention to detail. Don't ask me why I want scars on my back, chances are you won't agree. It's okay, I understand, it is something that it seems only I am completely okay with.
But I guess I have to update my favorite books and movies.
In other news I got some posters for my room. YAY! Less echoing and insane asylum feeling room! I got a RENT one over my head, a Fight Club one to my left, and 300 next to my desk! YAY! Now all I need is my Irish flag and Gay Pride flag.
And some STINKING curtains so that the sun does not wake me up at ungodly hours of the morning! Big black thick ones, otherwise the sun will still find a way through. And then some sheets to act as curtains to go around my bed. Those can be black too. Ahhhh. Next year my room is gonna be so badass.
And soon I will have a job, hopefully, with some monetary income. This would be the list of saving:
1) Road trip to see the lovely lady.
2) Chest tat
3) Nipple piercings
And intermingled there is cash for more posters, the flags, the curtains, dvd's, music, and books.
YAY! Stuff!

New

"Do you think its possible to love someone enough to give them up?"

After all I've done...

After all I've done she can still use that four letter word...
After all the teasing I do... the jokes I make... the stupidity I put her through...


She still calls me a brat... and she has no idea that what it does to me is equivalent to hundreds of butterflies...

Personal Manifesto

The blood-curdling screech snapped me from my fantasies. My vision focused. I could see the wispy white clouds floating in the baby blue sky. The terrible screeching pierced the air yet again. A profound pain filled my ears so that I crunched my eyes shut and brought a hand to my temple instinctively.

When the pain cleared I was alert and ready. I brought my hand back down to maintain my grip. I held on for dear life. My mount zipping to and fro. There was no time to sort things out. I quickly placed my hand on the crown of my mount’s head. I closed my eyes and brought forth images of home. I let those images flow through me. Let them flow to my mount.

Instantly I knew my mount had understood my intention. My mount went into a steep dive, feathered wings arched back along his flanks and head pointed down. I followed suit. I became almost one with my mount, offering as little wind resistance as possible.

There was no way for me to know what was going on. My eyes could not withstand the tremendous power of the wind. I closed my eyes and turned my head aside. Putting complete trust in my mount.

I felt my mount bank left and level out. Less air raced past my face, allowing me to sit up again. As soon as I did I regretted the action. Whatever had caused my mount’s wild panic was still pursuing us. My mount instinctively swooped sharply to the left. There was little I could do but hold on.

At the completion of the turn, I realized that we were now flying straight toward the beast that was pursuing us. The great behemoth was so surprised by my mount’s actions that it banked right and flew past us.

My mind scrambled for an avenue of escape. There was a break in the foliage below us. We were there in a flash. My mount tucked his wings. We dropped below the canopy. Dark shadows spread over us as we continued to descend.

Branches snapped against my arms and legs. Unprotected skin tore open. Still I breathed a sigh of relief. It was all too soon. A blast of extreme heat engulfed me. Engulfed in a ball of fiery death. I fell to the side, screaming in panic. The painful screams of my mount tearing through my heart, leaving wounds more grievous than any mortal weapon could produce.

I found myself on the forest floor, dazed and confused. There came a shrill cry of terror, of pain. I leapt to my feet. Before me my mount rolled through the underbrush. His golden feathers and hair burning. Bright flames licked at the forest foliage. I rushed to help stifle the flames engulfing my mount. I jumped onto my mount. Using my body to smother the flames. My mount screeched louder. I ignored the intense pain. My entire body burning from the flames. Smoke filled my nostrils. Everything smelled like charred flesh.

I ignored the all pain. All that mattered was saving the life of my most faithful companion. I pressed vainly on his fiery body. The flames only licked at my own flesh. Time dragged on. The flame would not die. It burned fiercely. It caught on the underbrush. Lighting the trees into gigantic torches.

A last surge of strength from my mount cast me off his back. A sharp pain burst from my right arm. Through tears I saw my mount withdraw his head. He had bitten me. Warning me to stay away. I sat against a tree. I let the blood run freely from my arm, feeling it dribble down the charred remains of my riding gear. There was nothing I could do, I sat and watched my mount die…

† † † † † † † † †

The sun’s setting rays filtered through the drawn curtains in just that perfect way, just so the light reflected the tiny particles of dust drifting in the air. The room was charged with all my excess nervous energy, I couldn’t help but be fidgety. On the small table in my meager kitchen were set the necessary dinnerware for two. The best plates I could find on a tight budget, my cleanest silverware, clothe napkins specially folded, tall wine glasses, and two elaborate candleholders all decorated the small table. I had scant enough money for the food and dishes, so I was unable to have the pleasantry of a nice table clothe.

In the small oven there was crammed a spiral ham and cornbread. On the stove two pots seemed haphazardly placed with lids keeping the contents warm. Three serving dishes sat on the counter, devoid of any food, serving utensils placed inside. Everything was prepared, everything was perfect, but I still couldn’t help but be tense.

A soft rapping came from the small hall leading to the front door of my apartment. Glee filled my thoughts. I knew my guest had finally arrived. I took quick strides to the door, pausing a fraction of a second to take in a deep breath. I delicately turned the doorknob and pushed the door open. In my anxious excitement I forgot to open the door slowly, giving new guests the opportunity to get out of its way. Almost as soon as I pushed on the door it banged into a solid object.

“Oh my God, I’m sorry,” I called. The door opened the rest of the way as my guest backed out of the way. The first image that I saw was my guest holding the top of his head. For some reason he had been looking down when I swung open the door. I knew he had a hard head, but I was still worried for his well-being. “Are you okay,” I added as I stepped out into the hall, putting my hands out to caress his sore head.

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” he cooed sweetly.

“Are you sure? Let me go get some ice,” I replied, turning on a heel and heading for my refrigerator. I left the door open, allowing my guest to enter my humble abode. I trusted that he would close the door behind him.

Upon giving him an ice pack, I couldn’t help but let my eyes gather him all in. Brown flip-flops revealed tanned toes partially hidden by a pair of Levi’s jeans. I admired the rugged, torn appearance of the jeans, along with their weathered color. On his torso he wore a Hollister T that was entirely too small for his muscular chest. His thick biceps practically tore the short sleeves of the shirt. His short black hair was left just the way I remembered it, untidy. The only difference was lingering blonde highlights.

He placed the ice pack just above his forehead and gazed about the small room that served as kitchen and dining room. “This is a nice place.”

“Yeah,” I replied, gazing about nonchalantly.

“What did you cook?” he asked, raising his nose to the air and taking a big whiff.

“Sit down and I’ll get everything set up.”

“K.” He pulled out a chair from the table and sat down gently. I crossed the kitchen and went about taking out the food and placing it in the serving dishes. I felt his gaze watching my every move.

When I finished bringing the food to the table I sat down myself. It was then that I remembered the candles. I jumped from my seat. I grabbed the lighter from the top of the refrigerator. After lighting the candles I dimmed the overhead light just enough to make the room take on that romantic appearance.

“So how have you been?” I asked casually.

“Well.”

“How are they treating you at medical school?”

“Good. I am in my second year of residency.”

“It’s been that long?”

“Ten years.”

“It feels like just yesterday I was saying good-bye to you after graduation.”

“I know. I know. It has been way too long.”

“Have you met anyone?”

“No. I have had no time, until now. That is why I came to visit you…

† † † † † † † † †

Here it is! Finally, I can breath again! I am sorry to have dragged you all through that long journey. I am sorry to have left you hanging, left you on the edge of your seat. If I did not, then I am also sorry for wasting your time. This is me. This is why I write. This is my contribution to the world. I want to write a piece of literature. I want to be mentioned just below the classic greats like Homer and Dante. Lofty dreams I know.

The reason I included these two seemingly random pieces of fiction for you is to show you how much I love to write. I thought it a creative and new way of displaying my passion. Okay maybe it isn’t too original; I mean all I did to show my passion was to write. Seems obvious right? Well only partially.

I wanted to show you that these two beginnings traveled a great distance from my brain to this screen. I plucked them at random from my brain and formed them from nothing but a whimsical idea. I had no idea I was going to write the intro to a fantasy piece. I didn’t mean to write about the beginnings of a gay relationship. I just did.

With all my soul searching I couldn’t begin to tell you my real reasons for writing. All I know is that somewhere in my childhood I felt the urge to mimic stories that I had read. A couple very special people nurtured that urge. One was my general level English teacher freshman year who encouraged my writing. The other is my best friend, who is a much better writer than myself. My friend showed me the power of writing. Of course I had read lots of books and lived every word on their yellowed pages. Of course there was a seed of ambition. I wanted to instill in some reader the same passionate feelings coursing through my veins as I read those books. But my friend allowed me to see that I could actually become that writer.

It was then that I knew I wanted to pursue writing. At some moment in freshman year my brain clicked, my own mythological journey begun. It was my calling, the start of my quest. What do you think I did? I followed it; I answered that call. I have been writing ever since. I have attempted two novels, and several poems, but my writing prowess matures daily.

There is another individual that I have to mention, because without this person I would not as ambitious, not even in my chosen craft. I have a running coach at my school; he is definitely the most influential person in my life. I look up to him, I think of him as more of a father than my real one. Every time I am face to face with him thoughts of my own imperfections fill my brain. I will never think that I am good enough in his eyes, even though I know he doesn’t care whether I am or not. It is okay by me. All I hope is that he will someday know how much he has impacted my life. But I digress; this man has driven me, mostly in my running, to be the best that I can. I have no running talent; I openly admit that. That is not the point. Everyday I was part of that team, trying my best to help the team become something big. It is the same way with my writing. Right now I am a nothing, but everyday I hope to be a something.

Hope is nothing without action and that is the most important lesson I have taken from my time with my running coach. Even with all the talent in the world you cannot achieve anything unless you try. It is because of that lesson that I have reason to believe that I may one day become something. I act upon my hopes and dreams. I don’t sit about and wish they would happen, I make them happen. I apply myself.

A lot of my peers think I am smart, but in reality I am not that smart. I just make the most of everything I do. That is why I write; I am making the most of myself, trying to achieve all of my hopes and dreams.

~ET

Ten Crucial Moments

1) Attempted Suicide
In sixth grade I attempted suicide, in a way. I was distraught, confused, and irrational. I hated my dad, I hated how school was going, I had no friends, I was just unable to deal with all the bad treatment I was getting. It just didn’t seem fair in my eyes. Sixth and seventh grade were the only times in my life when I truly prayed to God. The comfort I found was minimal and didn’t help the situation. In the end I didn’t follow through with my cowardly act, which at the time made me think I was really a coward for not doing it. Alas, that knife was not to be stained red with my blood, there was not to be a gaping wound in my chest, and my brother’s resolve was not to be tested (my brother hates me, has always hated me, and looking back I doubt he would have called 911 if he found me with a knife protruding from my heart and blood seeping from the wound).

2) I Met Maureen Davis
In eighth grade I moved to my current town of residence with my family. My family life had not improved, but I was going to a new school. One of the first people I met was Maureen Davis. She was kind, caring, and my first girlfriend at this new school. And in retrospect my first real girlfriend. You can’t really count girlfriends before eighth or ninth grade; you’re just not mature enough, in my opinion. So there I was, on the eighth grade field trip to the roller-skate rink. I had a great time making a fool of myself. But at this point I was slowly realizing that I didn’t care what other people thought of me anymore. At the end of the trip Maureen had lost one of her shoes. I was the only one that stayed with her and helped her find it. And I did find it. I got a huge hug. To say the least I was pleased. Within a month we were dating, but that only lasted like two weeks. I was immature and way to touchy feely. Lesson number one learned: listen when your girlfriend says stop. Don’t laugh, I was what… 13? Jeeze, you people are unforgiving. Anyway. But the greatest part is that I am still friends with Maureen to this day. I will always be her friend, or until I buy the pony I promised her. I should start saving up for that. It is because of Maureen that I learned what true companionship really is.

3) I Met Mr. Chester
Don’t get me started on Mr. Chester. Too late. Mr. Chester was my freshman homeroom teacher, running coach, and biology teacher. Mr. Chester wouldn’t stop trying to get me to come out for cross-country and track. He must of thought I had some talent, HAHA. What a laugh that is. I have zero athletic ability, not because I am over weight or lazy, it’s just not in my “jeans.” Ba dum cha. I crack myself up. So I did eventually run for Mr. Chester. The first time was outdoor track freshman year. He told another student, right in front of me, “Like Emmet, he will probably never score a varsity point for me, but he is here everyday and does exactly what I tell him to.” And before that he basically told me to go find another sport. But did I quit? No. I kept on. I gave Mr. Chester 100% for two and a half years. Regretfully it doesn’t look like I will be running for him my senior year. Alas I do not need to spend the time around him because he has already impacted my life more than he will ever know. From Mr. Chester I learned to be a champion, even though I wasn’t one of his running stars. I learned that in order to get what you want you need to put forth effort and time. Without effort and time you get nowhere.

4) I Met Mrs. Hackett
Mrs. Hackett was my freshman English teacher. Freshman year I was in general level English, not even college prep. Coming out of eighth grade I wanted to go into math and science and didn’t think I needed English. Oh contrar. Thanks to Mrs. Hackett I am now the writer I am today. Before her class I occasionally picked up a pen and wrote some of Dragon Song. But when she asked to read it, well lets just say it was the day my writing began its long journey to the somewhat mature level it is today. There isn’t much I can say about detail. All I remember is that she returned my story with a ton of red ink on it. I had a problem with proper nouns. Like with Mr. Chester later that year, I did not give up. Nor was I mad. I decided that I was going to be better. I was going to strive to become perfect in that field.

5) Started Dragon Song
I cannot remember where I came up with the idea for Dragon Song, nor when it was. It had to be sometime after sixth grade, because in sixth grade I remember starting a spin off of Harry Potter and always getting made fun of for it. Dragon Song is a complicated story and has undergone four rewrites. And still has yet to be completed. The first version and second version are very similar, the second version is longer and has a lot more detail. The third version is about six pages and has a totally different beginning. Then sophomore year I tried again and rewrote the beginning and that attempt became the longest version, next to the second one. The final version is about 76 pages long and encompasses 5 chapters. It is not a total loss though, one day I will go back and find the time to edit it. I just need to set it aside for a while.

6) Started Eternity
Eternity is my second attempt at a novel and unfortunately I have not found the time to write it since the summer. I also have gone back and reread it and think it needs some serious editing. It reminds me of a Dan Brown novel in that it all happens in the span of 3 days. And it’s not even done yet. I am such a failure. Okay I know I’m not, but still. I get very frustrated sometimes. The good news is that everyone, except Maureen, has loved this story. I am constantly being pestered for more and more as I write. Yeah I know I shouldn’t have let it out in the first place, I was just wanted to see what a couple people thought. Then a couple people became six and now five of those six won’t leave me with a moments rest.

7) Moved to Griswold
So I moved and that was a big help. I was able to start over, make new friends, and finally escape all the wild rumors and stories about me. It was also a big turning point in that I finally finished the foundation to my new logic and rational views.

8) Stopped Listening to Stupid People
This is semi-redundant I know, but important nonetheless. I laid out my foundation and finally employed my new philosophy. I no longer care what other people think of me. And to accentuate that point when someone doesn’t like me I go out of my way to bother and pester him or her. It is quite comical actually.

9) I Met Chelsea Bliven
Another ex-girlfriend, just this one doesn’t have a happy ending. From Chelsea I learned how horrible and manipulative some people could be. Chelsea has taught me that I am a pushover and that I need to be more assertive. I am working on my timid nature, but alas I fear that I am doomed to spend the rest of my life under the shadow of some person or another. I am also a very trusting and open person. Chelsea showed me that I need to be a bit more careful with who I trust and how open I am. I may get burned in the end. So far nothing extremely bad has happened and therefore I feel no need to rush changing my ways, but in my infinite foresight I believe I will regret it in the future. You may ask about that infinite foresight but read the last crucial moment first.

10) Founded My Own Philosophy/ Religion
Well this is the only thing that I could come up with. I do not have many crucial moments. And this might be a hair repetitive again. I often refer to myself as a god, and all that bull crap. I have very little self-confidence, but I can come across as a total jacka$$ sometimes. But I am over it, because through my elaborate façade I have been able to surmount my fear of rejection and triumph over my tyrannical father. Therefore I am grateful that I appear cocky and arrogant, or optimistic and over enthusiastic.


Well there ya go. All ten. Two or three are really bad, but as a whole the list comes together quite nicely if I may say so.

~ET

Look What I Found!!

So I was going through LJ and searching my HS for friends and I found... MYSELF. I knew I had an old LJ. And there it was. Guess what was posted! Two documents I thought I had lost forever. One (and most importantly) my personal manifesto and the other my top ten crucial moments, both from my online creative writing class the fall of my sr. year of high school. I'm so glad I found them. So I'll save them on my laptop and have them forever now. And I'll put them here for you guys to read at your leisure. Maybe I'll put them up on my LJ, idk yet.

So Sorry

Sorry about worrying all you peeps with my fancy away messages and facebook statuses. It's just been hectic. My brain is fried now, but all is well. Well as well as things can be. I still miss Shannon and I'm still confused and thinking. But saying it out loud to a couple of you helped. Made me realize that I'm not going crazy and that I still know what I want.
Still no pain. Don't think there is gonna be any. I'm a strong lad and all you have to do is be honest with me and I'll understand. Am I not a reasonable guy? Oh well. We'll see where this is going. But no matter what I stand by the people I care about, and I mean no matter what. Please hit me with comments on when I have failed.