I’m not at peace. Not at all. I’m just very…
The world is in need of some Bolt-Action Christ.
It’s my dad’s birthday today.
Happy birthday, dad.
We in America have so much crap. Even while we’re pointing out how much we take for granted, we overlook the simple things that not everybody has. That being companionship. A family. I was in Downtown Seattle this week and was less-than-surprised to see a few hobos laying around; however I had never thought much about them until I looked at one straight in the eyes. He wasn’t begging or anything, he was just sitting on what was probably the baby-changing station counter in the bathroom. He looked so lonesome. I thought about handing him some money, but the question of whether he actually was a hobo crossed my mind. After all, he wasn’t there the first time I was there (at least, I don’t think). I didn’t want to offend him. But all it took for me to realize all of this was one glance. For a fraction of a second, I felt pity. Then I felt guilt and shame.
Our families are what shape us. They’ll (almost) always be there for you. They are the best things ever.
I’ve been to two concerts in the last month, and upon returning, people have always asked me, “how was it?”
You know, I don’t know why, but this really bothers me. For one, it’s a generic question that people ask even if they don’t give a rip. Also, considering they’re concerts by professional musicians, what am I supposed to say? “Oh yeah. It was terrible and everybody was bad at everything they did.” I mean, come on, now.
Since people ask me such questions, I usually tell them close to the best answer I can give them, which is, “it was great.” As you can tell by my writing skills, I can never convey my ideas well through words.
Then there are the times when I’m sitting and listening to a piece of music and I love it so much that I pretty much just fall over. Simply because I cannot explain the feelings that are coursing through me as I listen to it.
Wow, it’s been three weeks since I’ve updated. I’m still here, and things are irritating me, but I just haven’t been able to formulate ideas well enough for them to turn into decent blog posts. The last–I dunno–15 blog posts were of mediocre quality and I realize that.
I’ve had been having a really frustrating week. I always knew there was a drug problem at my school, I just didn’t realize how big it was until just recently. There are certain people whom I trusted who have been deliberately keeping me in the dark, and although I resent that, I probably would have done the same thing.
Wait. No, I wouldn’t have. I would not stoop so low as to resort to drugs to look “cool.” I don’t care what people say, it’s not cool. It would put me in the same category as those who get those 1.1 GPAs, skipping school to steal things or paint graffiti on the side of someone’s house.
“weed isn’t that bad.” Yeah, well, neither is murder. or rape. or arson. Why don’t you go spend that money on something more worthwhile like all those crappy games you enjoy playing. Or buying NX for Maplestory. or on purple skin-tight pants. I know you want to. And at least it won’t kill you.
ghwomr;klwgnanreh. I’m frustrated. I nearly punched multiple holes in the wall of my room. I was honestly considering beating the crap out of each of you.
Come to your senses. Stop now before it’s too late. We care about you. Weed doesn’t just hurt yourself. It hurts the rest of us who notice and plead for you to stop.