Zocura's Pad

It's been soooooo long...

2010-09-04T11:23:00.002-05:00

I know that my last post was about me never posting, well once again I shall say it. I have been drowning with this new job and with college starting now. I hardly find the time to eat and sleep. Why aren't there more hours in the day? I will start to try posting more often.

Life in the kitchen is not what you want... trust me. It is so f***ing hot in there. I honestly come home some days with my shirt soak purely from the sweat from my body. It's so disgusting. BUT, even though I despise my job to the utmost level, I adore that I get spending money. I have gotten plenty of money and yet I haven't been able to buy myself a gaming system or a laptop, WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?! It's all the damned books and insurance that I have to pay for.

College just started and I found out that my teacher for chemistry is Indian and has a bad accent. I'll try to make it through class without laughing myself to tears.

It's been a while...

2010-05-12T17:41:00.004-05:00

I haven't posted here in the longest time... I really should. Blah blah blah. School has been a rush and is almost over. Being a senior sucks. There is a hidden good news in that though, it means that AP Chem is officially over, and the class has been reduced to the rubbles of the Science of Trivial Pursuit.

Even though there is much to do, I have still been finding ways to procrastinate to the very end. To do so I have accepted the invitation to go camping this weekend. Misquitoes here I come.

Snowday

2010-02-09T21:41:00.005-06:00

Today was a snowday. Awesome. But there is one thing about them that sucks so hard, it makes me hate Wisconsin sometimes. Some below the snow belt may not know what I mean, but after being outside in the cold (and I mean real cold) and you walk in the house you get all itchy. Its the most random feeling in the world. You just itch. I have a scientific guess at what it is, and its that your body is try to push blood flow back into your skin because it decreases because of long exposure to the icy air. But still, you sit there for 5 minutes just itching.

Then there are the roads so slippery. Its so bad. You have to go 5 below the speed limit, and I am a habitual speeder. But what real fun is stopping then slamming the gas and you get up to a whole 15 mph when your speedometer says 60.

Even though its a pain in the ass to shovel the entire driveway and commute everywhere as fast as your grandmother on a rascal, I hope we have another tomorrow. That would be the greatest. I don't care if it means a few more days of school when we should be having summer vacation, a mini vacation in February is much better in my opinion.

Fashion = Shame

2010-02-07T17:36:00.004-06:00

I don't detest the people that make a living off fashion, I despise the people that are addicted to it. Well, maybe addicted isn't the best word to use here where as dictated is more suiting. I consider it alright to be dressed up all nice for something important or when you feel you want to look nice, but those that make it their mission to do so everyday of their lives is kind of person I don't like. Still, I feel that I'm being to broad. Let me explain.

I don't like the stupid teenage girls that feel that they cannot live a day through school without wearing Hollister, Abercrombie and Bitch, Aeropostale, and so on and so forth. That clothing is so *ugh* boring. Seriously. All of it is the same. We have the big old print that displays where you got it and then the dumbass animal they chose as an icon. If I'm going to be a human billboard, I want compensation, dammit! Its always the same in the way that its either white, pink, some form of blue, or a select earth tone. Pathetic.

I prefer clothing that express who I am and the interests I have. I can say with certainty, no one that wears Hollister is an advocate for the gull. I also despise anything with a logo larger than my hand. The only exceptions to that, are band shirts and things of that nature. The prices are so enormous on some of that stupid Hollister that I can't imagine paying that much on something that will get wrecked eventually. Well, that's about all I have to say about that, I guess.

Glorious Music!

2010-02-07T00:18:00.004-06:00

I think I'm going to start sharing my musical taste with all people out there. Yes, that is correct, I will be sharing my wisdom with all of those tricked into the illusion that rap and country music are allowed forms of musical expression. So I'm thinking that I will be posting music videos and alike to my blog with a short little description on my take of the music. I will be posting them periodically and so forth.

To start off, because I can't just post this without a first video, I am choosing "Y Control" by the Yeah Yeah Yeahs (or as I call them Y^3). Some of you may know from prior posts that I have quite the thing for the Yeah Yeah Yeahs. Well, IT'S TRUE. I'm a big fan of this band through and through.

The video itself is amusing, but the real catch is the music. A splendid mixture. I chose to use the censored version (video, not audio) because it adds to the hysteria imposed by the children. Some may be asking "What was censored?" and to answer that, it was the middle finger. The way it was scribbled out seems to make the fact that they are children all that much more prevalent. I don't have much more to say because I believe that it can prove itself. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do.

A story I had to make for school...

2010-02-06T23:52:00.001-06:00

The sound of records for decades forgotten droned in the background, the scratchy voice crooned past walls of faded pictures. My hand lightly gripping the glass of brandy that sat upon the end table. The thoughts fluttered through my head, butterflies landing then approaching flight once again, obstructing my clarity. It was a Tuesday. June 17th 1987, five years after his death, his memory haunts me to this day, weighing down on me through the past. He can’t truly touch me beyond his grave and that keeps me more or less sane. Becoming aware of the protruding silence, I rocked myself forward to get out of my seat, joints and back aching to resist the movement, to return to the record player. I walk past the pictures lining the room, one catching my eye. It is an old photo; I dressed in white and him in his suit. The crack grazed across the glass, splitting and dividing until it reached the frame. I couldn’t stand to look at the picture any longer and pushed it over like I have many times before. The day kept swaying from good to bad as I listened to the songs of long ago.

Awakening in a cold sweat, I gasp out for what oxygen could be left in the room as my dread grasped me by the neck. His presence pressed down on me and held me flat. Telling me that he would be back to get me for what I had done. With a fairly parched throat and shaking hands, I rise out of bed and head towards the bathroom for a drink. I guzzle the water from the cup stained with tooth paste on the lip. I look into the mirror to convince myself that there wasn’t a large shadow looming over on me. The light buzzed and sputtered above, then with a flash brighter than sight allowed. Popping loudly, it left me alone in the dark. My eyes darted wildly scanning for the scarcest beam of light that was left. Nothing. A thread slithered across my shoulder and caused me to swat manically at the source and hit something solid. Screaming and turning quickly, the sensation of weightlessness overcomes and a cold strike presses down on my shoulder. Feeling light headed and fading, presence came over me once more. Frank had done this to me.

Days following my attack swam by leaving me in ripples of insanity. Frank did this. The musty smell of the room filling my lungs and dulling the time into a daze. Alcohol dripped down my throat as I gazed outward to the street. The neighbor girl sauntered down the sidewalk. Frank once cheated. He picked the most dressed up girl and took her to where the night out shone the day. She was his kind of girl. She stole his heart. I couldn’t stand it. Walking over to the door I called out, “Dear, could you possibly help me lift something. Age has seemed to have gotten the better of me,” and with a quick reply she headed towards my house. I looked around to see if I could find something that could pose me a challenge on most days. “Could you hand me that pan from on top of the fridge?” She found her way to the fridge but couldn’t make it to the back, near the pan sitting precariously near the side. While she drug over the closest chair, I shuffled to the drawer to pull out what I had left of the roll of plastic wrap. Getting off the chair with the glass pan, I came up behind her with the thin sheet pulled between my withered fingers. Moving as fast as my body would let me; I swung the roll in front of her face and pulled it around in a circular motion, tightening it to her features. A shot from an elbow struck me in the sternum sending me back into the wall sending the taste of blood into my mouth. I watched as her painted nails clawed to the places on her face where the green plastic clung. This went for a while, her stumbling across the room and knocking various objects across the room to shatter musically against the floor. She collapsed like a discolored ragdoll onto the linoleum, shuddering once or twice before she ceased movement. Getting up with the remaining strength I had left, I moved to her body. There was a perpetual look of shock left and I couldn’t stand to look at it. Dragging her by the wrist, I led the body to the top of the basement stairs. Nudging with my foot I sent her down. I clasped sides of my head hoping the sound of her falling couldn’t whisper through to my mind. The sound was all too familiar to me already. Crawling to the floor, all I could think was ‘She can’t hurt anyone’s marriage anymore… not the way Frank has.’ as the tears streamed down the crevices of my ashen face.

A week had passed since the girl had made her way to my basement. Sometimes I can hear her scream at night, shaking the vary walls of my room. I couldn’t stay asleep for more than a few hours for fear he may return again. Time drones by in an endless steam; never slowing, never resting. It was a Wednesday evening when I drove myself to the closest convenient store. The line had only one other person in it, a man about mid 40’s. He had been arguing with the cashier for quite some time. “I don’t care whether your manager doesn’t allow checks! I don’t have any cash on me.” His tone sounded much like the one that was used on me. Arguments have been exchanged with Frank many times before, leaving bruises on my arms and legs. After things were paid for with the numerous coupons in my hand bag, I caught up with the man in the parking lot. “Excuse me, but could you help me with my car door? It seems to be having trouble getting open.”
He glanced at the car then to me with a quizzical look but apparently shrugged it off and said “Sure, that’s quite the old model you got there.” We walked over and he put his focus on the driver’s side door. It wasn’t really shut badly; the handle was a bit tricky and required a bit of wiggling. He didn’t seem to take overly long to find a way to open it by eventually placing a solid foot on the door and summoning enough might to pull it open forcefully.
“Could you do me another favor and look on the ground? I dropped a pen there earlier and can’t seem to locate it,” I said as I maneuvered towards the front of the vehicle. He got down onto the dingy concrete sticking his hand into the metal bars and oily carpeting on the bottom of the interior. With an instantaneous shudder I dove onto the front of the door, watching the blur of the heavy door land its solid mass on top of neck. The melodic sound of a snap, he slithered to the ground, eyes open staring into the distance. I then spotted the wallet that slipped from his jacket pocket as it flipped open like a folded newspaper. Glimmering back at me was a trio of smiles; the man, his wife and daughter. He had a family. I heaped myself into the car and drove off in a distressed mentality, leaving the man for someone else to care for. ‘Was his anger deserving?’ I thought to myself.

The sound of the records echoed through the house, wafting at the dust that lamented tops of surfaces in the home. I stood there with my brandy in one hand as I stood on the stool with my rope companion around my neck. Franks voice shouted through the music and my stupor into my heart, my attempts failing to the memory of my husband’s rage. Even after death he held me like an insect on his palm, controlling me. He owned me, even beyond the grave. I took my final step forward and made my way out from under his pressure.

Animals Don't Have War

2009-10-14T15:34:00.008-05:00

This is one of the most over used and ridiculous phrases used in antiwar campaigns. Its a pathetic excuse to use mother nature to express what we truly want. It is true that animals do not have war, the just simply eat each other. Eat. Each. Other. Seriously people, how could you not overlook this crucial fact of the animal kingdom. Things will always eat each other no matter how much we try. Thus using the quote seen above, is thus unjustified. It is merely another example on how uneducated American society can be.

Though war may not be pleasant, it isn't necessarily avoidable. I don't like war myself but there are times that call for it. Sure half the world's modern day hippies may believe it is wrong and some may be right but there truly is no way to measure how justified war can be. War (in my mind) is the most powerful form of communication. Its unignorable. You get your point across and then it is taken notice. Though the other party may be unwilling to listen and not believe the same as you, but other unassociated party's will start to take notice. And by them taking notice they will start to accumulate opinions and hopefully the moral compass takes the correct path. This is one of the only reasons I think war is the correct course of action. Its only called for in special and rare cases. Such as the Holocaust. We couldn't let that one go on.

But take my heed, there are some true nimrods out there. Some that believe that if conflict cannot be removed immediately that the opposing should be destroyed. I have heard on many occasions, from select people, that we should blow up the entire middle east. That is just plain unintelligent and intolerable. True, we are sending troops to help (more like invade) another country and there are casualties doesn't mean that all people are bad. What if we completely removed Germany from the globe? That would have been a disaster.

There are wars out there that we shouldn't have been involved in to begin with. Like the one in the middle east that is currently going on. We were never explicitly asked for assistance (of my knowledge). Why should we be over there. Some say that we are protecting democracy. That type of thinking is more like communism. If the majority of a society is unhappy with a type of government, then it should be changed. Not held the same because someone else who is completely uninvolved says it should stay the same.

I myself don't like the idea of war, I think conflict should be more treated like a large Walmart. That's right, I just said that. We should measure our choices and then choose the best deal. We don't need to destroy what we can't control and shouldn't enforce our beliefs onto others. I'm sure no patriot likes to hear that we should be a communist country, so why can't they feel the same when we make those accusations. We always claim we are protecting the world from communism but what exactly is so bad about it. it may not be the best government system but it sure as hell is not the worst. Some say that the "Child Limit Laws" are terrible. Not really. There is massive over population and the only way to make it stop is to stop the baby flow. No government official is throwing those babies onto the street. That is the people doing that. They broke the law knowingly and they are making a desperate attempt to fix it. I'm sure that most of those parents are so wrenched up over what they did they wish they never had made that choice. And if that doesn't do it for you, think of it this way. There are less communist babies out there to become communist adults.

In short. War is not right. It is not wrong. And nothing is truly fair.

Why Twilight is Overrated

2009-07-28T15:16:00.011-05:00

Now, I'm not trying to start a kung-fu death match with Stephanie Meyer or her legions of brain washed infidels. I'm just simply stating what I don't like about everything she stands for. Sure, Twilight has ensued thousands, maybe even millions of people to follow her and carry out her every whim. But lets face it. Twilight is probably one of the least logical books there is out there. I know half you fan girls that are reading this are probably ready to rip out my throat. And the other half couldn't give a shit. So I'm just going to get to the point.
And this is my reasoning:

1. Twilight has completely changed the way people think of vampires. According to the books vampires are fun loving, playful, blood-thirsty little scamps that sparkle in the sunlight. Then there is the fact that they are rock hard (that's what she said...), resistant to sunlight, and can move with unimaginable speed. I personally don't mind they whole eye color changing deal but it is still kinda dumb. All these things that are listed above are not compliant to the traditional vampire. And it pisses me off. Its not the fact that there could be this kind of vampire or that there is more than one kind, its that every teenage girl in America is convinced that that is the only vampire and the thousands of year old stories are all wrong. Vampires can't be any of these or we would all be screwed.

They treat this like Stephanie Meyer is a prophet to the vampire world, for they are beautiful misunderstood creatures. Stephanie Meyer needs to learn that vampires are evil and were imagined to SCARE people, not to love them. (I could keep going but it is getting redundant.)

2. The lack of character depth. Sure we all know that Edward doesn't want to turn Bella into a vampire because he wants her to go to heaven. But that is really all we know. Who is to say that there is more to him than his love to Bella? He truly is one boring character. Sure he may have the body of a god but there is nothing more to him then his looks and his distinct scent. Bella is no better. It seems to me that all her intentions are devoted to Edward and how madly in love they are. For me it almost feels like I'm gliding through the book watching the scenes and not feeling what the characters motives are. The lack of understanding sets me apart from these books. What happened to intimacy that you can feel for a character like in books like "The Diary of Ann Frank"?

3. The way that the book reaches to every teenage girls hopes and aspirations. Sure, women want to find a man that only wants her and can only love her. Will love her forever, marry her, have a "perfect" child, and live happily ever after. But it will never happen. I take that back. The chances of finding that at the age of 17 are worse than winning the lottery. I hate the way it is such a fairytale ending. Always ending with love and no conflict. We all know that that is true reality but why can't we accept it. I can. The world is not a perfect place, so why do we try and mask it with books like Twilight? I think we could do with a dose of reality in our everyday life. Now if Twilight could bring this concept into the story it probably would be a more enticing book that would make it easier for the reader to relate with.

Face it ladies, you will never find a man that won't disappoint you.

4. The worship that the Twilight books get. Every girl treats the book like a Bible of Trinity. I'm mean 'geez'. Its only a book. (I don't think I have to say anymore than that.)

5. I despise the way that it carries into everyday life. Every teenage girl that is infatuated with their boyfriend is convinced that they are their "personal Edward". I HATE IT. I'm ready to yell back, "Well, by using your Twilight logic, that would make you my personal Jane. You are spiteful, annoying, childish, and a pain in my fucking neck." And just walk away...

Now I could go on longer but I feel that this is enough to be said for now. To all you fan girls that are telling themselves that I don't know what I'm talking about, I have read the all of the books. I can't deny that they were entertaining at the moment, but there are enough reasons not to like it in retrospect. So to you all, I will leave the rest of the processing to your recently unveiled minds.

The Most Intimate Part of the Human Body

2009-07-26T20:41:00.006-05:00

I'm sure that this entries title is enough to get you thinking nasty thoughts. But contrary to what you believe, its not about quite what your thinking.

First I want you to think of your most intimate part of the body. Now let me tell you why your most likely wrong.

If you were thinking the gender-defining features, you were wrong. First of all, what is the one thing that everyone has but eventually loses and can never retain? Virginity. And Your never going to get that back. I would have also accepted 'innocence'. Now the reasons why. SEX. And you know it. Plus, if you never do it, you do it to yourself. Everyday I would have to say at least one eighth (if not more) of the single female population impales themselves with objects for their own pleasure. Whether it be a specialized plastic contraption to the various lengthy vegetables in the refrigerator. And at least over half of the male population does sometime during the day. But that really isn't all the shocking now is it? There are also the tormenting visits for a physical or gynecologist check-ups.

Then there is the mouth. NOPE. People are constantly shoving things into their gabs. Food, fingers, unidentifiable objects, tongues of others, dental equipment, and the phallic regions of the male anatomy. Then there is the sticking of tongues into places. Including oral sex. And my favorite use, to be used as a childish insult from a distance. The tongue is not private in the least bit.

Anus. Nope. Face it, at some point in your life you will get sodomized. It may be from intercourse or just a prostate exam, but it will happen.

Breasts? Nope. Mammary exams for cancer.

Arms, legs, hands, and feet are out of the question.

Eyes? Laser eye surgery and contacts.

Ears? Ear plugs and cue tips.

Nose? *DING* That's right. The nose. Some of you may be denying yourself of the truth at the moment, but its true. Not just the nose though, more specifically the inside of the nose. Only you go there, if ever. Think. When you are a kid is the most time you will ever spend exploring the inside of you nose. You almost never stick anything in there. They way people clean their noses is with a blow, not a probe. The doctor only looks, never goes in on an exam.

If you go up to anyone and stick your finger in their nose, they will flip out. You probably would too. That is why it is probably the most intimate part. Am I not right? Of course results may very from person to person. Internal organs are excluded from this truth. So next time ask yourself, when is the last time you stuck your finger in your nose?

"You can pick your fiends, and you can pick your nose. But you can't pick your friends nose."
~Anonymous

Where is the whole truth?

2009-07-13T23:04:00.003-05:00

Things are just getting so confusing... Ugh. I don't know where things went. I'm just starting to feel so anxious. Things are just happening so fast. Okay now from the begining:

Me and my friend, Tori, had the idea of spending an afternoon with our friend Ali. All was setup for the most part then when things are about to be set into motion Ali doesn't show up things start getting hectic. We spend about and hour and a half trying to contact her but no luck. Then we decide to call things off. I was going to go home and write a very angry email to her, but never really got around to that. So around 10:30 Tori tells me to look at a journal posting that Ali put up. I look. Of course she takes it down before I get a chance to read it. Lucky me. Then Tori attempts to explain over the phone but things don't make a clear scenario. So now I'm sitting here regretting ever thinking of sending her an email and not sure what is going on. Communication skill = Zero.

It all had something to do with her boyfriend trying to convert her or something but I'm so clueless about the entire thing. I don't want to get mad at anyone without the whole truth (some women don't understand this concept from my years of intuitive observation).

Sigh...

"Heads Will Roll" by the Yeah Yeah Yeahs

2009-06-16T20:48:00.014-05:00

I 'heart' the Yeah Yeah Yeahs. While surfing the web I thought I wonder if they made any new videos for the newest album Its Blitz since they only had one so far. So I head straight for YouTube. The website for all you dirty pleasures. All. Dirty. Pleasures. So I go looking. Saw some of their older videos. Such as "Y Control". The children in that thing freaked me out! They are playing with a dead dog! Who does that?! But I digress. "Heads Will Roll" was in the top 5 on my favorites for the Yeah Yeah Yeahs. So I'm watching. Yeah this is cool so far... but that changed quickly. (I should get paid for putting this on here. I'm promoting this.)

So after I decided to post a comment:
WTF, werewolf? Okay. I was waiting for the crowd to start moshing which would have been awesome but this works too. Then I LOVE the part where he is killing. Best ever. Glitter, conffetti and the fuzzy stuff. Loved it. Party favors anyone?

Further Ranting

2009-06-13T01:14:00.004-05:00

Well to continue where I left off yesterday, I'm not entirely sure speech is a lost cause. I was in a bad-ish mood and felt like complaining. But that doesn't completely void my earlier suggestions. I felt there was one example that would be perfect:

"... I'm hot cuz I'm fly
You ain't cuz you not
This is why, This is why
This is why I'm hot..."

Yes ladies and gentlemen, that scarfed up piece for shame was the chorus to the song "This is Why I'm Hot" by Mims (what kinda name is that anyways?). That was a terrible, terrible song. Nothing fit. And through out the entire song the guy is going on about himself and how great he is. Someone, mentioning no names (I don't even know how that is even close to a name...), is a bit of a narcissist. *cough* Mims *cough* But seriously, how into yourself do you have to be to sing about how great of a rapper you are and how so much better you are then the rest of us.

Then there are the people that reduce the standards of insults and uses the pathetic excuse for a word "noob". Honestly, you are only making yourself sound like a total reject by even using that word. I'm ready to bind a pointy dictionary to a chain and handle to make a medieval flail of doom and smack their poor bohemian heads against it.
"FEEL THE WRATH OF THY IMPUDENCE!!!" One good smash and they will resent using such a undignified word. I shall be Sir Smacks-a-lot on all their asses. (Oh my god, that sounds so bad. Heheh)
Could they really not think of something better to say? I personally love to resort to the little insults you used when in the second grade. Just tick off a small child and the given response may be but is not limited to: Butthead, Buttface, Monkeybutt, Buttlicker, Poopyhead, Dumby, Boogerface, Dog poo, Smelly, Fruit, Boogerbarrel, and many variations ways to defecate.

Please raise the linguistic standards by sponsoring you local jocks and cheerleaders. Please call 1-800-ABC-TALK. We have operators standing by to take your calls. Without your donations the poor football teams won't be able to understand you when you call out DEFENCE. Nor will the cheerleaders no longer be able to spell out words and will need to continue to just dance around to music and never say a word like they have for years. By giving money to Learn to Talk Foundation, you will be giving these students an opportunity to be poked with a cattle rod when not listening during class. Thank you, your donations will be noted. And if you call now you can get a free nude photograph of the child you are sponsoring with a list of their classes and home address.

Is Speach A Lost Cause?

2009-06-10T17:12:00.005-05:00

I have not been on in about a... century. At least that is what it feels like. I have been in a rut lately and am just now starting to pull myself out of it. I have no life... I realize that almost no one ever reads this damn thing so I thought it really didn't matter but I decided it is better to just get my ideas down regardless of whether it gets read or not (though it would be nice).

Exams are going on right now and I seem to be doing alright. I'm getting A's in classes that are academic for the first time since the 3rd Grade! Not even kidding. I have not done that well. Now what I hate is when people judge me solely on my grades. Honestly, and not trying to sound full of myself, I could outsmart over half the people that make that kind of assumption. Not even kidding. I just don't do my homework. My test scores are the only thing keeping me passing. But then there are people that know how smart I am and expect me to help them with everything. They need to help themselves.

I have no clue what I'm going to do this summer. Not. At. All. I'll be sitting around the house half dead and mopping. That is what I do. Sit and mope.

... People kinda suck. Some are just so damn IGNORANT!!! Do they even think that maybe there is just as much to criticize about themselves as they do to other people. I know I do sometimes but I try to be as mindful as possible unless I think that someone deserves my thoughts. It just seems like there is so much that they say without even realizing what they just said. They don't even think anything of it and that is the part that really irritates me. The ability to speak has been taken for granted in the American culture. It is so profound on how we are able to convey thoughts and ideas to others of our species it just dumbfounds me. If you think of it, what other creatures use language? NONE. They use verbalizations that are recognizable but not a language. The amount of conscious thought that is need to talk is so amazing. We don't even think about how to form a word. What kind of memory does that take. A LOT. We have even surpassed language. We can make poems, stories, and connections that go beyond the mere meaning of a word and make it something new. It is just simply sublime. Then there are those people that just rape the English language. Slang doesn't tick me too much, but just the shortening of EVERY word. Its just barbaric. We have language to fully communicate and we just slash through it and bring it down a notch. I swear. When I here the popular people talk I think I'm listening to the primal grunts of a long lost missing link between us and apes (that's right. Evolution).

This is only one of my thoughts. I still have even more deep ones. Just wait.

Untitled Poem

2009-03-03T06:27:00.009-06:00

I'm concealed in a box,
white, closed, and mine.
I see the outside painted in an
opacity that almost escapes the reach of my eyes.
I see the shadows of strangers
dancing against the color of morning dew beyond me.
They all leave me enraptured with awe by how they
seem to behold me with their freedom.
One holds her many hands high towards the light,
she drops a tear of red flesh which sighs to the ground as if
it were to finally have a life of its own given to it by the wind.
She dances a whimsically with the breeze,
with a seemingly contentedness that leaves me feeling empty.
Another shadow glides down from her breast
and sings a melody that compliments her every flowing movement.
His grace encircles me as he whorls high above my head
capturing the light in his voice.
The breeze passes me by without a single finger tip
brushing my cheek, making me beg for its touch.
I shudder, I want to break free of this
shielded existence and truly live.
A crack protests in agony as it is dragged across a
corner of my capsulized space.
I hear now the screaming of the breeze through the trees
and the song of the birds.
Left to choose to stay and leave.
If I stay, my desperation will tear the life from
my soul and I would me no more than a husk of what used to be me.
Or leave and feel alien to a world not of my own design,
never feeling like I truly belong.
I scream for answers.
I scream for you to hear me,
for you to find me.

Caution

2009-02-28T18:06:00.008-06:00

Everyone has flaws, its a proven fact. Yes, even Jesus. But unlike Jesus or Brad Pitt, I have many. I just recently came to terms with one of mine. I am overly cautious. I mean it, I'm too cautious. Sure its not a big deal, but I make it one. In many cases its good to be a bit cautious. I spaz. Never impulsive... most of the time. It can still be good though. Example A: I haven't died yet.

Speaking of being dead, I almost got hit by a green Sudan. I was going to my friends house and we had to cross Highway 60. Not my strong suit. Friend said "go" so I started a fast walk. He called my name to get me to stop and right as I'm turning to see what was going on, a green car zooms not ever a foot in front of me, I feel something more than a breeze stroke my arm as the side mirror passes me. Close call. the bastard didn't even slow down! Or honk.

Luckily, that was my only close encounter. But, hell, I stress bad. Once I left my iPod on the computer charging, and your not supposed to do it long because it kills battery life. Wake up. "Fuck!" *rips iPod away from the computer*, and probably sustained more damage and I freaked out. Terrible. Its all those little details that make me spaz, as if they are going to jump fro their hiding place and try to eat my face. It wants to nom on my soul! And that is where I start pacing. I'm a pacer. Can't sit still. Blah... I actually made a tread in the carpet surrounding the pool table.

Good news, with my over cautionary style, I'm going to be the last person in a horror movie to die. While everyone else; jocks, druggies, cheerleaders, and bitches (I know, those two are similar. But they are not the same, there is a distinction. Bitches don't need to be hot to succeed at what they do) die. I, the nerd, will live. After the creepy, pathetic excuse for a psycho deals away with everybody else in creepy, disgusting ways with underlying sexual innuendos. I will be hiding, too afraid to risk my life for sex in an old freaky shack. I will survive off the food the pizza man drops when the psycho kills him. A psycho needs to kill something, why not something that will be there in thirty minutes or less? Their life is most likely at a dead end anyways. As the years go by, I will grow a glorious, scraggly, grey beard and slowly go insane. Then in a few years when the next group of stereotypical teens come along I'll try to turn them away, while sufficiently scaring the women in the group (that includes the new nerd) about the psycho. And this is how I will live the rest of my life... wait... how is this in any way good? I lost where I was going with this.

Injury One and Two

2009-02-25T19:58:00.002-06:00

Well... Last Monday was officially the worst one I have ever had. As if it wasn't enough that it was a Monday and I had none of my god damn homework done, I now had to face flowers of wrath. First of all, I'm in a foriculture class because it seemed interesting and it would be an easy half a credit. Today's assignment was making bud vases and spray painting carnations. That's right, spray painting carnations. They don't come in blue so you have to paint them. Well, instead of cutting them with scissors, you are supposed to cut flowers with knives so you don't pinch off the xylem. But what ever, like an idiot, I was the one cutting flowers... I hold flower. Attempt cut. Dull knife. Press harder. Cut half way through. Carnations have thick stems. Aggressively press knife harder. Cut finger open. Spend 45 minutes bleeding. Whine some more, but don't cry. That damn flower was a bitch to cut. I was ready to kung fu fight with that mother fucker. Kya!!!!! Beatch!!!! I stood there yelling at the flower like it was my god damn brother. I think everyone in my class now believes I'm psycho.

Not only did I cut my finger. The next day I have to do to the dentists appointment that apparently was today but no one cared enough to inform me of the day I'm going to have my mouth prodded with. Mmm... fun. Okay so I enter the office. At about this point I figure out that it is only to check my teeth, not do anything. But still. At least the dentist said I had a lot of class (not considering he was talking about the width of my jaw and that is was a class three and my teeth were still crowded besides this fact). So, as usual, I close my eyes and try to relax while he basically breathes his entire lunch down my throat. And for a dentist, his breathe isn't to pleasant. At least this time he doesn't have a drill in his hand. And why do dentists have a need to ask you questions while they have sharp tools in your mouth? Sure, its fine before and after, but during the procedure? How did he ever get out of medical school.
"So have you got any things going on later today?"
"Mmrfmf..."
"Try not to move your tongue." Because apparently it is unnecessary for speech.
"So ...." Here since you already have the drill, why don't we just jostle my head while you drill my tooth, make things interesting.

Damn Toasty Screensavers!

2009-02-21T22:22:00.007-06:00

It was a few days ago that we entered class and my teacher said that the room was toasty warm. Stupid Wisconsin weather always makes things cold. Shortly after saying what he said I found quite a distaste to the word "toasty". It is probably the most pathetic way to describe an object that isn't a food. Honestly, why would you want a room feeling toasty? It almost makes me think that I have become so oversized wheat product that was left in the oven to long, and trust me, it isn't to great of a feeling. Knowing that if you ever walk into a city that you will be eaten by a flock of pigeons isn't too exciting. I don't like the idea of having to bargain away body parts to the Pigeon Mafia just to walk away with my face intact. I could see it now,
"I swear, I'll have the money by the end of the month, my family is going through a rough patch. Please, Louie, I'll pay you tomorrow!"
"Squak!"
"No!!!" What a nightmare... Its only in the case that I am eating a piece of toast will I make an exception.

Another thing that peeves me off are screen savers. How pointless are those. Very. Why would anyone pay good money for something like that. Don't go into some crappy computer store, see one, and honestly think of buying it. Just because it has fish that swim with real physics doesn't mean that it is worth the twenty dollars, especially considering that the fish can't swim with real physics because they aren't even alive nor is it even a 3 demensional space. The point of a screensaver is to save your screen while your away (pretty obvious). If its going to be moving, what is the point?! The only reason a screensaver would come up is because you are away! Your not even going to see it! What is worst is the ones that make noise, as if you didn't care enough to pay attention to your computer, it tries to get your attention! Its practically calling for you
"HEY!!! I'M STILL ON!!! HEY!!!"
"What?!"
"TOUCH ME!!!"
"No."
"Why?"
"I think you may have contracted a virus, and I don't want to have relations till I know for sure."
"Please, I got the computer doctor to check me up. See? Last check up for spyware was 2/21/09. I swear I'm clean"
...Two weeks later, you die of trichinosis. (If you don't know, you get that from infected pork, so your computer was fine.)

Worst of the worst is a screensaver that has a fire place and then someone says that it makes the room look toasty.

The Bass in the Band...

2009-02-20T23:17:00.006-06:00

Hmm... You know what I just realized? The bass in a band is much like wallpaper in a room. When played used well, it just blends into the background. Yet when played bad, everyone notices. I think this is very true. I love the bass, its mello, calm, and gives everything good rhythem. I guess that would make the guitar furniture for main appeal, the vocals nic-nacs and smaller accesories for the room for a consistancy of mood, and the drums carpeting for a flowing beat. Huh, if I had a band it would be one fucked up living room.