hot outside, cold inside, never just the right temperature

It's dark out, and in the front stands the driveway lamppost shining light into the night sky. The tree erected next to the lamp has light trickling up the dark tree branches and leaves. I was just sitting in the front, oblivious to the thoughts flowing through my head, and i thought to myself how i've been losing myself in my thoughts like this--like being asleep but awake. The sirens from the police cruisers echoed in the night, passing down the main road just outside the neighborhood. It was tranquil and placid, breathing it in like air.

I have to make sure to call driveright, my driving school, tomorrow when i get out of summer gym. Stephanie will be expecting a call from me as well, once i finish playing some softball and running a few laps down at the high school. I should call my dad and ask him what he's planning on doing Independence Day. I hope he's planning on having a get together or shooting off some fireworks with the family. It's would be fun to have stephanie come along with the crew.

David's gotten into some shit with his parents over cigarettes--how stupid. His parents are being so peevish to him over something that doesn't deserve such attention. As one of his punishments or ramifications was he's no longer allowed to hangout with me. I'm sure this will be short lived, or i hope so.

frosty skies and movie highs

I've been around, around the house not getting on the internet much and simply reading from paper pages rather than these bright, eye-screwing, cyber pages. It's been good, but just right now i'm not feeling so blissful, as if i should with all this distraught commotion pertaining to jeff's death and kylee's lose. My mind has been wondering, loosely following old leads on new ideas and new ideas on old things, and i can't help but notice how polluted and hot these summer days have been getting.
The car ride back from Stephanie's was nothing more than a pretty light show with windy movement down the highways and through the suburban outback. As far as the eye could see and even farther, the streaks of highway paint that keep cars in one lane and out of another rolled up the windshield leaving glistening specks and smudges in my line of sight. I don't know whether it's more of a waste of paint, a waste of time or just another facet in U.S.A.'s consumption problem, but, regardless, it is needed for our resource consumming cars and their sometimes idiotic drivers to make it from one point to another with their life. It was quiet almost the entire ride back since Audrey was getting sleepy and had nothing to say besides little, soft, yet noisy moans, and I of course had been feeling beside myself with this distraught overdose on contentment. We focused our eyes outward, away from our simple and close perspectives to the road and it's surroundings; billboards reading great common truths about people and what they'd like to do, "Eat. Shop. Relax.", trying to entice them and giving them some incentive to purchase their business's product and consume it, leaving nothing but it's trash behind. The pollution stood out like a fog in the summer night air. Every light out, colorful billboards, peach highway lamps, green highway signs and car headlights, had their own box of lit fog, showing the straight and vast linear edges. All the signs amid the fog and the rank ambience of American culture, down to my uneasy mood in the backseat of a black Olds 88 with leather interior. It was the incessant hum of the wind created by the car cutting through the foggy night ambience that put everything in perspective for me, leading to my vision eventually blurring insight of the dark, pastel blue sky. This orange spectacle amid the darkness caught my attention with it's marvelous beauty and dubious nature. I focused on the moon, darkened by the pullution to a darker orange, and it got me to thinking how everything that i saw and much, much more could be gone, desist, cease to be at any moment. While i was staring at the sinister moon, i worked myself into a mindset where i believed it could and would happen smoeday, sometime. As i was staring, i noticed the moon was shrinking, being swallowed into the bluish-grey canopy, and, at the time, my heart had skipped at beat and goose bumps arose from my skin, thinking it was all over now. I soon came to my senses realizing the camouflaged clouds had just moved over my eyes view and there really wasn't anything to be affraid of. My mind was playing tricks on me, as usual, but i got at least a faint smile from it all.
I'd write more but it's getting late, and i should sleep. -shouts love to my love, stephanie-

kick the clock off your coffee table

Kick the clock off the coffee table
pretend you don't know the time
thoughts are scrambled but i want them
over easy
my recollections of happiness
they slide down
the pickle slides down the window
someone has the job of cleaning them up
wipe them clean for the next
leave them like a scar
when people walk by the window
i wonder if they see that pickle
do they?
*(inspired by waffle Hizzy)*
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serene, placid, droll, emphemeral
landscapes, dreamscapes, escapes
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is there something i miss, or i don't, that makes all the difference, some pickle sliding down on someones window, that i miss, that would help me to understand why, repent, reconcile and reform, in my mind, i want to conform, or conformity, if people all believed themselves to be altruists, would that mean harmony, if everyone believed themself, themselves to be selfish, would that mean harmony? If is the only thing is lIFe.
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the incentive to be happy is to be happy, or is it? or is it just to not be sad/mad/angry/lazy?
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i'm a parody of an everyday-day.
shining to bring light to subtle details,
the naunce of life.
the highlights make shadows for the true nuance of life, the cracks, corners, dusty indents that show just how much is overlooked, how much is really missed out, is it so trite the details to be ignored--for so many to say--they'll be there tomorrow--and forgotten today.
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When i open my eyes to tomorrow,
i'll think how meanlingless i am, how nothing in leaving for scheduled summer gym is really import--besides avoiding the bad consequences; and when i think this, there will be a feeling, almost overwhelming, to cry, to lament for the meaningless--malicious-- wastes of life. Even the thought of it shows a waste driving--how it can be.
----------------------------------------
If i received a "goodnight, i love you" as night before i lay to sleep, could the soft sincerity make a significant difference--to my mood, attitude perspective, breath or emotion the morning.
----------------------------------------
I'm not sure, absolutely, if moving to my dad's house would solve any problems; it certainly wouldn't help with my approach to my freedom from dependency. To resist my feelings, my painful fallacies, is for the Earth to resist it's turning, for me to resist my next cigarette; although it is possible, without some deep reformation is useless to try, but limiting my exposure to my mom and her irrational follies could save me emotional toil, not to mention further growth and enlightenment.

Maple Hill Cemetery

And his resting place here on earth. Funerals aren't something i enjoy, so much crying and holding, some screaming and kneeling, all of which are full of the nuance of life, just as deeply rich as the good times, just as deeply felt as the good times. I'm confused as to what i'm supposed to do, think or feel. So i can only be honest with myself. There's nothing else to say. I just hope that being true to myself really does bring good.

Good and Bad News and somethin else

Good news, i started summer gym, and I'm on my way to earning a gym credit as long as i don't get kicked out of the class before it ends. I've now missed two days, considering today. My dad's is a place i can feel okay just thinking and lying about, reading or thinking. It's bringing me relief to have my mind wonder when i look out on to the land and watch the distant horizon and the clouds. There's two Blue Siamese kitten's named Tao and Zen, cuter than cute but obnoxious at times. They will follow you all around the farm if you give them attention for a little while. David lives close, and he's someone i can spend time with, talking about things and wondering our minds away and maybe even playing some music.

I've got about 20 pages left in hannibal. I was going to finish it last night before i slept, but i eventually got to tired. I realize it's not so much i don't read fast, rather, ddon't read that much; certainly, i don't read everyday, some weeks, i don't even see my books nor do i write. I wrote some last night, but it's been hard to compile my thoughts into complete ideas for sentences.

Stephanie and I are doing as well as we ever have. I'd like to do more things outside with her and maybe cut back on the "la la"--take that as you will--but there's nothing i'm truly dissatified with, unless it's myself. She's always supporting me with her words, giving me advice or just showing affection by holding me. I love when she holds me or plays with my hair, so much that I dreampt about it last night. I can't remember anything besides that. I just recall laying on my bed with hand on my head, running her fingers through my hair. I'd pop a smile, and rest my eyes. I honestly don't remember many dreams, and when i do, they're only fragments of some bigger thoughts.

Bad news, Jeff collapsed and died Sunday night. For people who don't know Jeff or how his significant to the family, he's Kylee's fiance to be; they've been dating for about 2 years. She's been broken up on and off, screaming and smiling with friends. I don't what else to say besides that there's not much to say or do about any of this. I can only be here for Kylee when she has a query, needs a favor, or a shoulder to cry on. There's not much i feel like saying, nor do i have the thoughts to write about. If it's any consolation to anyone, i care deeply about kylee and what she's going to have to go through. I don't understand all the challenges she's going to have to face, but i want to be there at her side when she faces them.

I've been feeling lazy. So what to do to fix the problem, but keep myself distracted and occupied. I'm lazy, and i need to quit smoking. Seems like being lazy would be a constituent help; unknowly, it provides even more reason to give into the cravings. One probably wouldn't think that to be so, but it's proven a stronger reason to give in than to even consider going without a cigarette.

Oh, and kicking my little brother's asses is something i'm beginning to take pleasure in once again. We need to have a talk, clearly. I need to explain to Ben it's mostly up to him whether the fighting continues and what the consequences are. Talking to Ben is going to be a pain, but it's something that needs to be done.

------------------------------------------------------

thoughtless time counts infinitely
seeping through the cracks
forgiving,
forgetting,
forever indifferent to it's sway
plush sky with open eyes blinking infinitely
sound hopes,
sound fears,
hum from day to night
try once,
try hard,
remember where you are
the rememberance of whom you should be
the exulted remanance of dust, of being
tide rises, tide falls,
crashing into my dreams
seems formal trust ruins the meaning,
the grandeur
fog and clouds,
thoughts that shroud
the missing and missed accompanied by smells,
the odor of emotion day to night,
sight of day,
how come my ignorance is felt the way
such a brief noise,
the static naunce,
spontaneous

Father's Day in Springfield

We dropped off Stephanie at her place and sluggishly backtracked on I-70, heading with Audrey to my dad's house to suprise him for father's day. We brought him a bag of little gifts, which he responded to in a respectful mannor, although joking, saying, "if anyone has some chocolate, I'll be glad to trade them." Kara just stared and yelled at him in that girly whine: "Raaaaaaaaaj", hysterically responsive.

I conjured up some damn good steak and chicken. We all ate together at the kitchen table; Ben and E.J. being loud and obnoxious. E.J., as usual, only ate meat and no vegitables, eating unhealthily is common for his chubby badonkadonk. ^_^ He is chubby, regardless of how nice he can be; that little prick. ^_^ My dad was stressed due to their misbehaving, little bastards. Anyways, 'most everything went well but the boys.

I went on a walk through the fields and the woods, running down the big hills and climbing some fallen trees to cross the stream; everyone's skin gets irritated from climbing the hay bails, especially my already diseased skin. It's beautiful out there, with the full trees blowing in the wind and the sun shining trickling through; felt nice to sit in the sun reading for awhile. I think i found some new hangouts back in the woods--you know--to sit and chill, reading, writing, or listening to music. I'm kind of preoccupied; I might write tomorrow after summer gym, damnit.

Spectacular Quotes

"Droll thing life is--that mysterious arrangement of merciless logic for a futile purpose. The most you can hope from it is some knowledge of yourself--that comes too late--a crop of unextinguishable regrets."
-Joseph Conrad

"It's such a little thing to weep,
so short a thing to sigh;
And yet by trades
the size of these
We men and women die!"
-Emily Dickinson

everythings all hibity dibity... AWWW HORSE SHIT!

I've been in and out of this incredibly abhorrent mind state; degradation is a better term. And i've been becoming a degenerate by my standards. It's all too easy to let yourself get into a cycle of negativity, a cycle known as the downward spiral, beating yourself up over the small things and blowing things out of proportion. Balance is the goal, and sensitivity is the facet. I'm susceptible to harm, listening to everything in the extreme, and i have a problem of looking at things too intensely without speakin my mind. I'm all to easy to understand, and yet this conundrum persists in the ruination of my mental stability; although i know the problem, it's reparation isn't as easy as letting go of some weight, rather, carrying a new, heavier weight.

Summer gym is painful, and things are coming together in new ways i've never imaged happening. I decided that it's easier to gnaw off my leg than to run 7 laps in a 12 minute span, especially with my smoker lungs and diseased heart.

Where have all the good times gone? I need smiles and encouragement, and all i see is myself slipping down the hill of contentment. I'm not always down or anything, but I have a tendancy to swing that way, definitely negatively magnetized. Life's always seemingly dark, and it takes your energy to light the path. "Fun doesn't grow on trees."

But treenuts do. wait, do they?

Summer Gym Orientation

I walk into the cold, well air conditioned school at 7:45 in the morning to see about 200 kids sitting in the "commons", the cafeteria, mingling and talking all wearing similar clothes and holding similar hair cuts. I followed the stench of authority into the office to sign up for summer gym on the day they're supposed to start, and they gladly accepted my tired, uncouth, smelly ass and my money; but i'm sure they wanted the ladder because our school has a sort of deficiency with money ever since we realized we're in the hole, six million deep. They tell me i can run down to the gym department to attend the day today, but i have to bring an extra 40 dollars to pay for the extended bowling and swimming the last week and some parents signatures for medical and legal requirements. I get there in the gym department and see a few of my friends i know from BHS and GCCC with their hang-over's and funny gym shorts, hanging their heads with tedium and exhaustion. I sat next to them, and we began to converse. Andrew is always pissed at something, especially summer gym, but he seemed a little more irritable since he drank the night before and only sleep a few hours. That all changed once we were acquainted with the cold gym floor and the newly introduced gym instructors we'll be having for the rest of our summer vacations. They gave us seats on the floor, mumbling our names in coordinance with our positions on the floor. I could barely hear them speak over the air conditioning's muffling power above us. They ended up not calling my name since i had just signed up for the course that day; so i got the last seat on the floor of seventy people at least.
We headed out to the track field after a series of painful stretches and stupid jumping jacks. We had to spell out Beavers 3 times with our cries while doing the jumping jacks. I thought it was a funny word to be spelling with all it's hidden meanings and how it goes well to describe a good portion of the people there. We ran laps around that track for about an hour, changing the pattern of running to jogging and jogging to walking. It was sprinkling so we stayed pretty cool throughout the panting escapade. Once we survived that, they decided it'd be better to change the scenery, and so we did, running around the bus loop instead. I bus loop is about a quarter a mile, and we ran about 5 or so--well i can't say i ran, but that's beside the point. After all this running, we got a thirty minute break on the gym floor, laying there, thinking how much we wanted to be at home sleeping or in Andrews case "partying." The break was only supposed to be ten minutes, but the gym instructors left to eat i think, which left it wide open for attendants to leave to their cars for a cigarette or a quick tolk in their back seats before heading back in for the second half of the class. I knew if i smoked i'd lose all ambition and energy for the rest of the day; so i skipped the stoner car and cigarette break. The break ended, and we all ran back into the gym for stretches and more ridiculous jumping jacks; this time, they caught on to the multiply meanings. We played a horrible version of vollyball where no one has to serve or hit the ball back, and if the ball hit the ground, it didn't matter. I liked to refer to it as retard/handicap vollyball. It was entirely a fiasco, but now i'm home and ready to start my dad with a shower and a good cigarette.

Pfff, it's not June 12!

Shit, i was wrong again; i guess it is. Well I've left so much of my delightful weekend out of the cyber world it's almost leaking in from the real world, just through the fine cracks. i never use bold text because i think it's not something i came up with nor is it something i've ever used in the past, but this entry needs bolding.
My mom doesn't know how to handle money. No seriously, mot kids could say that their parents don't know how to handle money because they won't bum some money or something, but my mom isn't anything of the like. She's honestly spending too much money on eating out--she's a big lady, "big girl"--at her favorite fast food places around the the area: Mcy-D's, Wendy's, Taco Hell's, Burger King's, Arby's, and even KFC (that's now kitchen fresh chicken because i'm guessing the kentucky people didn't want to be associated with the bullshit behind KFC and their's fattening of America). So, the power was off for almost a whole day and a little of the next, while I tried to have Stephanie and David spend the night, creeping through the silence hum of the house to get in and out late at night. If you've ever had the power out at your house, you realize that there are so many little noises going on around the house that end up muffling in your advantage, and if you haven't, let me further my explanation for this statement. Silent hum is the best phrase for describing the silence in a powerfree/amish house. First off, when the power is off in any rooms in the house that don't have windows, it's almost entirely pitch black, blacker than night. This can only mean the rooms without windows, the bathroom, the closets, my old room, the bathroom, you must fumble and frantically search for toilet paper under cabinets, when you're not sure you have any toilet paper because you're mom might not have had the money to purchase any before this power outage occured. I realize, I probably should have thought this through before i went to the bathroom, but when you really have to go, you'll go anyways, no matter if it's dark or not. So there i was on my knees with shit on my ass, looking in the cabinets, trying not to say anything too damning or obscene with shit on my ass. Well, to make this end on a good note, i found the toilet paper.
I got to go swimming at Emily's place. Yeah, and i got to see Stephanie in a bikini. It made me realize that bikini's are pretty much just undergarments with pretty, bright colors in nice designs. There were fat lady moms, dogs, and little toddlers with mohawks. It was a fun, exciting, kinda disease-filled day. It was hot too... but it's summer and that should be assumed.
Cigarettes SUCK!

6 Months of Blood, Sweet Tears and Love.

Today is our anniversary, celebrating six months of love and challenges. It's been worth every tear shed for all the smiles, for a lack of some more distinct word/s, smiled, worth every bit of time. And as I sit here now I am saying this, not without knowledge of the entire thing. I, or rather, we are stronger than we once were and much more aware of each other and how each other carries himself or herself; this is because we have seen each other enough to respond empirically and accordingly. No doubt, it would take a selective hearing embecile to spend so much time without unraveling the foundation of their personality or learning, at least, the fundamentals of their partner; but there doesn't lie the hardest part. The hardest part is self-control or knowing what or when to say something, when the conundrum seems to be insoluble and binding.

Anyways, I'm taking away from what is right now and in front of me, taking away from the celebration at hand. We've been in love for 6 months, and never have I felt like more a kid than now--yes, I do know I've yet to be "of age." Stephanie has brought me knew perspectives, almost enough kisses to smother someone--that if anyone would endure them at once, they'd certainly be suffocated--, and a great feeling of being loved. And she is a person I can confide in and share my love with.
I love you Stephanie.

Stephanie and I at Waffle House--shut up , we do too have lives

Facilely Striding Tomorrow

Help is on the way, but you'll have to stress the will and motivation from behind those eyes. I've triumphed over those forces of slothfulness, leaving myself bored and consumed, with the day's longevity slim to the tangible senses. Strangely but truly, I've been trying to work on my ambition and motivation, as well as self-control, with nothing but my own force, myself, to bury the ominous habits. The mirror only brings the baleful looks of criticism, troubling and away with my wistful attitude. Striding is a good word for what's occuring in me, the self doubt and mutilation is turmoil but not incessantly; yet because we have conscious thoughts against ourselves, so will we have admiration for our accomplishments. Respecting yourself is like trying to see the naunce in a play about spermies reaching a ladies eggs, nothing but awe when confronted with the gestures. Striding is how I move through the day now that nicotine is the enemy. David stated this the best so far: "you must find something that keeps your hands and mind busy." The distractions, reading, walking, hitting, watching, anything, even sleeping, are all within reach as long as you have the ambition or motivation, and to reward you for your strife, a feeling of satisfaction when you lay your head to rest. When you feel the placidity of satisfaction, you'd believe it if you said you could go weeks without a precious something, an addiction or limb; but that feeling is temporary as is the emphemeral time in a day. Once the euphoria subsides, there's a stench left in your ambience, when you awake to the same hanging conundrum, realizing or, rather, noticing the satisfaction you had is replaced with the follies of the day. Drunk on your forgotten follies, follies you'll never forget until you cease, dreaming or distracting them away for convenience. I guess my thoughts get the best of me, and I better stride into the next day on autopilot.

emphemeral summer cheers and smiles

Blast off in five four three two one.
I must get some applications to some businesses for my summer job, as this is for my time spent doing the trite activites of my everyday routine; cigarette, read, cigarette, game, cigarette, work? Who knows what's in store for me this summer, besides the commonplace hanging arounf the house tedium. Kylee, my older sister, is going to run me up to some local businesses here soon, so i don't have much time to write, not that I have anything better to be doing besides this anyhow. I'm listening to Team Sleep, deftones side project, and i must say that their ambient sound soothes my mood and leaves me with a taste of sweet contentment.
I'm heading to my dad's en masse for some summer moving, or whatever you'd like to call it. I don't have much else I can do; we'll grill out while we mow the freaking 51 acres and position the 2 tons of furniture in the house. That furniture has been waiting in the garage for about a month, nearly long enough to say that's never coming in, but i guess moving is a slow process, at least for my procrastinating dad and his busy work schedule. This won't stop me from getting my license, hopefully running up there today to schedule my drives, while the gettings still around. Until this is over with, I'm continuing to feign a happy-go-lucky composure.

Quitting smoking is just as hard as I imagined! Waking up and going without a cigarette for three hours is luck slowly driving a nail through your hand while trying to read; there's nearly nothing you can do to get it off your mind besides these emphemeral distractions. Apprise me with some tips if you are willing...(viewers? no no... I might as well comment to myself some tips to avail this squalidly habitual, disease called addiction.)

Computer Errors, Human Errors, Errors Alike

I waited, waited for the damned thing to process my information and to copy it to a diskett, all the while I was listening to Yoko Kanno, one of my favorite artists with her Human Complex Album, and the computer pops a window saying something about the A drive needing a good formatting. What a bowl of bull; I saved it down on another computer, no problems and in no time. Disketts are such an obsolete facet of hardware, soon enough thrown out to the 3rd world countries, I suppose. Tell me if I offended anyone at all?

If there's anything I know to be offensive, it's a banal racial slur like "Curry Bather", coming from one of my acquaintances; but whether or not it's meant, I hold it as a gesture of comradery amoung friends of opposing races. I'm not completely Indian (from the country), but I still have some of the Indian culture in me and a substanial influence from my Indian grandpa, whom I respect as much as I'd respect any other geriatric of any other race and/or ethnicity. I've always had a good respect for my elders, as long as we don't include my parents as an example--for more reasons than one. Elderly people tend to be more wise and listening than the average teenager or even politician (the best example), which puts them in the deserving section in my book.

Jumping into another topic, I must say I've been becoming more of an ADD victumized individual by the day, scrounging for a subject my eyes can rest on; but I end with the same obstacles everyday--read, computer, music, be social? This is about as social as I get, right here, talking about what has been on my mind in the past little while. Priceless.

Here in Ohio, the weather has been nice, as nice as escaping from contemporary Christian radio hits. Christian pop artists are poor excuses for artists, making renditions of the most popular sounds in the media to gain support in their "mission", which commonly and unexpectedly is money. Go figure. I haven't looked into the church fraud since I last heard it about it from a former Christian, an old friend, who said when he looked into the subject, he wished he never started the dig. I don't blame him; sometimes, the negative knowledge overwhelms any ability to see the pros, leaving you a depressed lump in the bed until you find the light again.
Did I just bring up weather? Man, I'm boring...

Losing track of the date

I had another band show at a keg/birthday/graduation/drunken-family party last night with Final Day and Far and Few Between, both were bands with grandeur in the percussion section, and they both said that they'd like to play with us again sometime--actually, next weekend is we could. Funny stuff went down everywhere you looked; family members singing to hardcore bands, falling off of mopeds and scooters, and staring at the bands playing with awe and completely sincerity, all while piss drunk taking intermissions to the keg. I'd have to say it was the best show we've played so far, and you could tell by our facial expression entering the party's driveway alone. I looked around and saw nothing but old people under awnings, staying protected from the lethal sun, and teenagers standing in front of the garage, lining up for the keg on tap; and to interrupt this peaceful summer birthday/graduation party comes this convoy of death metal and hardcore bands with loud clothes, hair, and attitudes. The bands were actually the most reserved looking people at the party. These drunken kids from Jamestown's school were the ones wanting to mosh and cause trouble, while the bands just wanted viewers, for the most part.

I say I'm losing track of the date because I so clearly am, and there's no way for me to remember what day it is without owning a calender of some sort and hanging on my wall in some place I would commonly look to when zoning out or just thinking. I have my computer, but with all I have been doing I don't look at the date very often, which leads me into my conundrum. How am I am I going to fix this problem, you may ask. Elementary my dear reader, elementary. I'm going to force myself to stare at a damn date calender ever night before I go to bed and dream about the date in some crazy, dreamy sort of way, as so I can wake up knowing the date.

Stephanie and I are doing pretty good, and that's not something many people can say after dating for six months; but look at my type it... Anyways, her and I have been having problems arise slowly and steadily for the past few months or so, but we always get around to fixing them or trying to mend them as fast as possible. This way there's no trouble later on when another problem persists and comes up, while the other problem has grown into some beastly abhorrent thing. I'm sure we both blow things out of proportion, but that's not anything uncommon in the teenage dating world--heck the dating world for that matter. And I'm sure everyone has had their emo moment or few where you and your girl are laying there, crying on eachother shoulders or getting teary-eyed while telling how much you like having them around. Wait, I'm the only one... Forget what you just read... I was just...uhhh...making reference to.

I have a new stepmom (I think I'll call her her just straight up Stepmom, she's cool enough), who might be the coolest mom yet. Although I would like to say that without feeling bad, I can't, without hurting myself, I'm sure. I like Kara, my dad's new wife, for her wits and her opinions, but I also find her obnoxious sometimes, when her and my dad get into it. She says some of the stupid statements, unfortunately, they don't even compare to Mom's bullshit statements of authority. Ex. While eating ice cream out of a bowl, watching television and sitting down my mom complains to us before we leave to go to my dad's house saying: "I don't-slur-have to be treated this way", with ice cream still in her mouth. She can be so sloppy that it makes me embarrassed, and that's when you know your family is normal, when your mom embarrasses you infront of complete strangers whom you don't specifically care know your mother is a moron to the fifth power. Another reason Kara is so cool is because she's a former English major in college and knows shit tons of good books like Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad for recommendation.
I hope I don't stray from my blog too often.
I'll be back to write more tomorrow or tonight, or at least I'll try to remember.

The beginning, the end, the summer, again.

I've been resting today, after reading some Hannibal and playing some music at my dad's old residence, sleeping to get cigarettes off my mind, but it has given me energy to do something tonight, something like Battle of Bands in Vandalia. It's nice to get out and do something after nine months of hermitood--I made that word up maybe-- and all the work that came with school. I wish there was something I could do to keep Stephanie from getting down, depressing herself for no reason, but there's no rides to her place and back, only one way at best. My mom is working a few nights this weekend, working the night shift and seeing some nasty stuff I'm glad I don't see, which is good for all of us for a multitude of reasons: my mom needs the money to keep up her fast food addiction, I can sneak out without her knowing and every in my household feels a pressure off their shoulders when she's not around to cause problems, yelling and belligerently arguing about diminutive issues. I could smack her, she makes me so angry with her stupidity, and I, somehow, still plan on staying here after I finish High School, unless things change more than expected.
Keeping you posted on my tedious life.

Cheers to summer

i've been out most of today, talking and driving with Audrey to the drearyXenia BMV, so I could once again take my beloved temporary permit test. Minus two, Boom Pa! Anyhow, among the various topics of conversation was smoking, which is not my favorite topic. Audrey and I both agree that we should cut back on the cigarettes this summer for our health and money. This way we can have enough money to get to work and back, and it's not like we're chimneys, just chain smoking at times.

Schools about to conclude it's year at GCCC, culminating in boring classes, doing boring things. What the days have come to are far from exciting or even the slightest bit entertaining, sitting infront of a computer or a paper with busy work. This means I'm going into the summer face first and slamming into summer gym, although if everything goes well, I'll have my license in not too long. Oh, I'm not even going to mention the job.

Cheers to summer, I guess...

-Poof- i'm back again

I’ve been preoccupied, so my blog has gone untainted for a little while. I’ve got so much driving requisites to fulfill if I plan on getting my license this summer, and if things go well after school I’ll have gotten my temporary license test finished, finally, and have scheduled two drives. Not bad for one day’s accomplishments. You’ll have to watch out for me on the roads here soon because there’s no way I’m going to. I’m playing, but I’ll still be an inexperienced driver. Things went well on my birthday, and I’ve still got a feeling like I can squeeze more out of this event since I didn’t really get anything from my parents--one thing. I’ve gotten a steel drum from Jamaica, hand beaten and all, and I’ve been playing on that thing for a two days now, sounding okay for a newbie, no Jamaican of course. Forgive me for not posting much; I’ve been feeling like this blog is no longer private, for a few reasons: David reads my blog, I have things I don’t want people to read about, and my family knows how to get to my blog. All of which are legitimate reasons for not writing much blogwise. Maybe in due time I’ll have more to say about things that aren’t so personal, but for now I’ll just leave them out of this place. My mom has been the usual I assume, but I can’t really know for sure, since I spend so little time with her now and days; and just wait until I move out, when there’ll only be a few days a week I’ll have to see her! The slim benefits of my age are finally taking effect, closing in on the time where I’ll be able to do what I want to do with my time; and that’s avoiding my mom in my free time, at least most of the time. Kylee will be graduating from college with a Bachelors Degree in some sort of counseling, crisis counseling possibly. She’s a strong lady, my sister, and she will be strong in her whole life because I know her will power and motivation are both charged and adequate for her. She’s been dealing with tons of problems with Jeff, her boyfriend of 3 years almost, over some of the most heartless things I’ve heard from a relationship but so petty at the same time. See, they’ve been talking about getting married for a while, and everyone in my family is happy to hear it; but his mom is some insidious bitch to kylee, talking behind her back and lying to her face. Jeff’s mom puts so much pressure on Jeff to brake up with Kylee for reasons unknown to her and our family, yet invites Kylee to dinners and lunches to seem friendly. The insidious, conniving bitch can’t come straight out and tell Kylee that she doesn’t want them to get married, but she’ll collaborate with the rest of his family to censure Jeff’s decision. So, poor Jeff and poor Kylee have been having problems because Jeff’s got a myriad of complications in his life right now, from family, from Kylee, and even financially. That’s no reason to get him down, but I’m not the best person to talk because I’ve got my problems too, letting them get to me just the same. What a way to live, being sad or angry at the disability to reconcile with family or responsibilities, and what is it going to restrain yourself from fixing these problems, if they’re amendable, even if it means dealing with some strife and complaining along the path of reparation. I’ve got guilt problems, always have, but I know that if I try to solve them or even just block them out, I’ll be making a difference. I need to remember trying is good enough; and caring is good enough. Yesterday, I came to school with so much on my mind, hidden from myself, and I felt like I was just distracting from something but I didn’t know what. So, I called my dad and got a ride home to my mom’s, and he didn’t end up showing his procrastinating ass until nearly the end of lab. I shouldn’t complain; I did get to go home with a smile on my face, might I add. I had to return if I was going to turn in my makeup homework for E-Commerce with Mrs. Leonord, and it turned out I also had to take an easy test which I received the highest score in the class on. For some reason that stuff comes to me easily. I thought about it, and I came up with this realization that in E-Commerce we usually use the same foundation of ideas for almost all of the concepts. It’s boiled down to about three basic ideas, which we use all the time in our everyday planning. They are: make plans or preparations, get professional help if needed, and maintain what’ve got. Those are the fundamentals of my everyday relationship with myself: make preparations for the day, Get professional help if I need it, and maintain my state of mind. For reasons unknown, I’ve got so much to say today, even if some of it is reiterating. Things have been going well with Stephanie and me. We’re getting to see each other still, even though she’s living strictly in the new townhouse in Huber Heights. I miss her, and all the opportunity I’ve lost when she move. I used to be able to sneak out and pick her up with my sister’s car, but now, there’s almost no possibility of those escapades anymore. It’d take noticeable gas and time to drive that far without getting caught by one authority or another. Her move wasn’t as bad as what I think she thought it was going to be. I’m glad she’s not glum anymore.