We’re Wolves

Stolen from Every Time I Die. I know. But you don’t live until your ready to die.

It’s 2:15 am, that’s…quite the time. I have class at 12. Why the hell would I not be up?

My music selection has changed from Acoustic to Hardcore, like always. I can’t think, I can’t go to bed. Bitchin’.

I think it is bizarrely weird that sometimes as I’m walking back from a class, I stare down at my feet, asking myself “seriously?”, as if they would finally talk to me after 18 almost 19 years of silence. I want them to open up their mouths and give me knowledge. Why am I walking back from a college class on a college campus? I don’t even want too, but I do.

I’d prefer a poor life as an artist. But I don’t think I’m good enough for it. That’s a problem, that means I’m even more poor. Poorererer.

(If only you, you only knew, would you save me?)

My writing ability has been severely lacking lately. I think I wrote one thing….decent thing…over break. And that was after snow storms and cigars. It doesn’t count. It was probably terrible anyway. I don’t know why, but I’m having serious issues getting thoughts out in a semi-coherent, philosophical way. It’s 2:20am, I’m listening to the Decemberists, that should explain how badly it is.

Something is blocking my creativity. Creative Karma, that’s probably a real thing (This is a sad song. Eli, The Barrow Boy)…I think I have it bad. I probably said something without realizing. Damn. Go figure. But if only I could pinpoint what it was. Stupid

I’m listening the The Almost. Acoustic. Say This Sooner. People are saying that his voice is very shaky and he’s not very good in the song. But I don’t know. His voice has a quality to it….so it works. It sounds very oldie….It works.

226. I haven’t done a damn thing

I think I’m done.

Conclusions weighing down…(This dark, infernal place…There is not a reason more to live)

I’ve come to the conclusion that there is no conclusions. Everything I want to do I don’t. Everything that’s stupid I usually do. Oh my god, is this an actually blog about me and giving a crap? No. Ridiculous. I stab things with a pencil looking for thoughts, hoping they pour out onto a laptop, which by the way, does NOT channel creativity very well. Piece of crap. College is coming, and honestly, I’m freaked. It’ll be a blast, but I have the overwhelming feeling like I’m gonna just go ahead and frack it up big time. I hope not. Hello future, I screwed you over. Here, have this swift kick in the rear. Thanks, and you’re welcome.

I ran across this thing called a “Blogathon” where people go ahead and sign up, find sponsors who donate money either hourly or just a flat rate, and then it goes to the bloggers charity of choice. It lasts 24 hours, and you have to post every half hour. It sounds like fun. Except the whole chained to the computer bit. I would do it, if I had sponsors…It would be fun. Unless it was a nice day. Then I’d say “Hello….laptop!”

I’m 18, and I want a knife and a tattoo. The more I listen too Hardcore music like Demon Hunter…the more I want a tattoo of an angel and a demon fighting, positioned on my back. Maybe have some cool scenery as well…Ravens, snakes…whatever. I’m going to do it. For sure. It will be on my back. I’m gonna try and get the person who did Drew’s tattoo to do it. She has a cool graphic novel look to her work.

The Tide Began To Rise.

I really like doing stuff “behind the scenes”, like interning and other stuff at church. I find more satisfaction helping out and doing stuff that needs to be done, rather then just chilling in the chairs. It’s fun.  Being involved, connected, focusing more.

Fire To My Soul

There is really no musing to do. It’s past 12, I’m up, listening to music. I have nothing else to do. So why not? Musing is ridiculous. The word is too. The band is awesome though. Journalism is random musing. But organized.

(If this is all the love my spirit can give…)

Just take it back tonight. Confused.

Care.

I’ll rant later. I just can’t. I need to write. Personal? No. Just write.

Is this thing on? Or is that just feedback coming from your stupidity.

This is a blog. Brought to you in part by “Word Press”. Our sponsors feel it necessary to alert all potential readers that there is nothing to report, and there never is. God forbid Paris Hilton gets out of jail anytime soon. Should she, we will bring you the latest coverage on her daily life, because it’s the only thing we care about.

Peace and Tranquility, Joy and Contentment.

I will also bring to light any tragedy that falls onto my ears, because if main stream media won’t cover it, then for crying out loud, I should. Take that liberal media, take THAT. And shove it up your rear end, the second one, the first one is already full of crap.

This was written on a PC,  now being tracked by the Government.

Friday, June 22, 2007, 8pm EST - Stargate SG-1 Series Finale. (Yes, I know about the Mole-men.)