New Journal. nobloodoath

Getting some euthanasia for this one.

This makes three days, straight, without sleep.

It's really fun after a while. Everything is bright lights and loud sounds and weird feelings.

But yeah, I really like The Strokes.

Summer is started, and I'm really bored, as you can prolly tell by my scientific experimentation.

seeing through
to somthing dark
going there
to leave my mark
find the place
for my imprint
thought you showed me
but you didnt
so now im traped
inside your heart
cant even see
its too damn dark
cant think to leave
my sign in here
i never knew
id die in fear
of you

I am a stubborn ass.

Latin convention was amazing. The single largest congregation of nerds I have ever laid eyes on. It was beautifull. With two 'L's.

I got to run around screaming and conquering shit with a plastic helmet and a foam sword for three days. At first it was just me and a freshman named Kevin doing it, but by the end of the thing, EVERYONE (except the fagoty-ass AP kids who were "too cool") was running around conquering benches, statues, garbage cans, and pretty much anything in our path.

By the way, "Conquering" basically means doing a Captain Morgan pose on whatever you're conquering and looking into the distance epicly.

AND WE GOT A TROPHY FOR SKIT. Skit that morgan wrote, and I starred in. [I'm sooo humble] Skit that I wore a dress in.

I make a promise, with a certain outcome in mind.

Interruptions. Obstacles. Decisions.

Different outcome. Promise broken.

Edit: Just a question... does the 'weekend' officially start on saturday, or friday after school?

I went to utah. I rocked a mountain. I left my cell phone in utah. I WILL move to Park City eventually. I promise. My mom, shit dad, brother an sister will be staying in my house for God knows how long. So, if I'm bitchy, sorry.
I rally wish I could talk to Gabby, but my phone situation is a little... dead. Also, I'm sunburned as hell.

BTW, how's it goin morgan?

So.

I'm going to Utah to snowboard for a [Spring Break] week.

Colin is supposed to go too, but there's some issues with him hating his parents. Someone is not going to survive the 12 hour trip [and his dad's like a 7 foot tall fitness equipment manufacturer].
There are also some issues with truancy, and Colin being kicked out of the house because of it.

I only love pure things.

Fashion show was o.k.

I feel guilty.

I'm out of monster.

I have to much music in my head.

My dad E-mailed me, a day late, for my birthday.

I have issues with lyrics.

I'll give you a real post someday.

Both of you that read this.

Neither of my parents called me on my birthday.

I love Gabby, and I don't say it enough.

I'm really anxious about fashion show.

I'm really excited about covering Nirvana.

Fender Jaguars are the most beautiful things I have ever laid eyes on.

I'm a terrible kisser.

My brother's birthday is coming up, and I promised I'd give him a guitar.

Sell out is my goal in life.

I'm not going to rant about my life on here anymore.

Which leaves me no reason to stay on this site.

I'm not going to reach for support on the internet, with people I don't know.

And the people I do know, I can just bitch at in person.

Erynn is the exception.
Always was too.

so...

I have green hair.
They dyed it yesterday, and I like it.

I wonder how it will effect my every day life.

We'll see.

Stress. Distance. Hatred. Fear.

Algebra for the third time is really gay.
My drama teacher is a complete nut. awesome.
Leather should not be a requirement for auto shop.
I get two complete nuts in one semester, the second in art. double awesome.


But I don't get to see Gabby as much.

Sound like a bitch don't I... you should hear me in real life.


So, I'm gonna have an actually song posted soon sometime.


I can't play video games for a week, says my eye doctor.


That's it. Sorry I've been out of it lately. I'm kinda spacy and preoccupied.

My last entry was really way bitchy-er than I usually am. I hope.

any way, sorry for wasting space on you guy's friends pages.

Fuck Christmas.

I hate the fucking holiday. I've always hoped that I could have a decent Christmas one year. You know, one of those cardboard cutout holidays like you see on T.V., where the whole family is sitting around a tree smiling, and the little kids get exactly what they want. I haven't ever even come close.

As far back as I can remember, Christmas has sucked. Up until last year, when I finally told both my parents to fuck off and burn in hell, I was at one of there respective dwelling places; My dads trailer in a hicksville Tennessee, or my moms apartment in Milwaukee. Neither place is a good place to ever be, but especially not on any holiday [excluding the Fourth of July, when "accidents" happen and something they own blows up]. Anyway, neither of my parents ever had enough money to buy anything nice for me or any of my siblings, so I guess they tried to make up for it by buying us lots and lots of cheap shit.

So, at my moms, I'd already know everything I was getting three weeks ahead of time [she doesn't believe in surprises]. She'd call me up before I left to go to her house, and say something like ,"guess what you're getting for christmas!" [the ultimate mood killer], and then proceed to tell me everything I was going to waste time unwrapping, and how cool it was that "she knew me well enough to get me such great things". I vividly remember, that one year she gave me a skateboard ramp, just because it had a recommended age sticker on it that corresponded to my then current age.
I'm a fat kid. I've always been a fat kid. If I ever even stepped foot on a skateboard, it would break under my weight. Even if it didn't, I'd fall of because of my shitty balance issues [caused by being over-weight]. So yeah, give my a ramp to kill myself on.


At my dads, I'd wake up, and sit there on my couch for a couple hours, until my dad and then step-mom woke up. I was never aloud to wake them up, no matter how late it got. I waited from 7;30 am till 2;00 pm one Christmas. Waiting didn't really bother me, since I had to go to like four different states to have my "multiple Christmas's" I was used to waiting; But My dad [actually probably step mom] would have put my unwraped gifts right next to the place where I was sleeping [their tree was like, 18 inches tall]. So I got to wait, while looking at all the shit I should have already been playing with.


So, last year, when I was on christmas break from boarding school, I was really excited that I didn't have time to go to either of my parents places. But a couple things happened with my then girlfriend that made the whole Christmas thing go by in a depressed blur.

This year, I had probably the best christmas I've ever had. I saw my dad [and his new girlfriend] on the 23rd, and only had to tolerate him for a few hours. I didn't have to see or talk to my mom at all. And my Gramma pretty much left me alone [other than giving me socks].



Oh well, I'm really tired, as you can probobly tell by my very un-DJish writing style tonight. So I'm gonna go to bed.

I'm off to Crossville to see my family, wish me luck. [again]

P.s. I had a dream last night about burning down Krogers. Just thought you should know.

I really hate this whole "winter break" thing. This can't even be called winter. It's been like 70 degrees every day.

The break part sucks too. It just means I get to sit at home alone, instead of sitting at school with my friends. And Gabby.

I also have to see my sad excuse for a family. My father and I have been E-mailing lately [mostly cause thats thats only way I can stand to talk to him], and I made the mistake of promising to see him on sunday [the 23rd].

Wish me luck. I don't want to kill anyone.

I love Fredrickquillisms.


Oh right, you don't know what that is. A Fredrickquillism is any comment meant to be humorous to any number of persons possessing higher-than-average intelligence, and completely bypass the average-to-dumbass range, leaving them wondering what the hell you just meant. Nerdy comments usually count as Fredrickquillisms. For example:



Dude: (looking in fridge) "Dude, where are all you eggs?"

Nerd: "I don't know man, Birdo musta took 'um."

Guy: (laughing) "ha ha"

Dude: (puzzled) "What!?"




That, was a Fredrickqillism.

I hate paying money for stuff.

I guess you could call me stingy, or greedy, but I refer the term "Horde". I like to save my money up and buy one M-A-zing thing with it.

Like Gabby's Capiloistmas gift. It's amazing.I hope She likes it, and I hope I can give it to her tomorrow.

So...


Hello again.

We seem to do this dance with posting often and ,more noticeably, not posting. But I'm here now, and that's all that matters right? I know someone who'd disagree, but let's not get into that. So, I'm gonna try to post semi-often from here on out, since I have nothing better to do, and I'd like to set an example for some certain people who need to post more often.

Anyway. I found some music I made while in boarding school that was, not surprisingly, particularly depressing. So I destroyed it. There was no real gold in there anyway, just open chords and rhymes about snow. Then, I looked at some of my more recent stuff. I can see a change to power chords, solos, and rhymes about snow. My point is that while I may have come a long way musicly, lyricly, I'm still the same depressing emo kid I started as. I've cut back on references to imprisonment and isolation, but only traded them for lines about crowds and misanthropy. Maybe I can just scream, or pull a Cobain, and sing so strangely no one can understand me. He taught me that "hurt" can be a four syllable word.

I also need Colin to join me with his guitar awesomeness. I've been staling cause I'm ashamed of my emoness. I know he'll want to see what we're gonna play, and all I have is emo shit. I don't think the girls would be to happy with my unhappiness either. I mean, we started with some pretty emo covers, but I tricked us all into believing they were O.K. for practice sake.

Pixi needs a set. Gabby needs a bass . And I only have money for one. I would call Geoff, so he could tell me that the answer to this dilemma was so obvious that I should kill myself for not seeing it, but his opinion is now just as tainted as mine.


Oh well, I'm tired, and hungry.
Peace.

I do not actually own a Magic Eight Ball {/: insert little c in a circle thingy here}, I've never received a suicidal suggestion from one, and I apologize to MATTEL.

I'm confused, scared, and jealous. What do I do?

The Eight ball says to kill myself.
Sounds like fun.

The train, not so much.

Halo 3 is the best thing ever created by man.




I've been on Xbox live alot lately, and I've figured a few things out.

Japaneese people hate the X-box.
Brits suck at halo. ( at least the ones ive met online )
Brazillians can kick my ass in two shooters now.
Canadians hate the X-box.
U*S*ians love the X-box.
Brazillians hate it when I call myself "American". Hence the cencorship in the statement above.
Mexicans scream funny things when you kill them.
Elites ar'nt as bad as I thought.



That's about it. I was sick today. Like seriously sick. I felt kinda like die'n, but more like kill'n. so this sick-kid stayed in bed all day, and didn't get to play a bit.

I got it. I'm happy. I might be sick, and not able to attend school for the next several days... mabee.

Someone brought to my attention that all my entries mentioned the name of a certain awesome person, so I shall attempt to refrain from typing said incredible persons name. There, happy?

That aside, DJ got a new T.V.
And played Halo 3.
And got addicted to Halo 3.
But does not own Halo 3.


This blog is really random. I don't use it for like, a play-by-play of m life or anything... I just write about what ever I'm thinking at this ungodly late hour at which it seems I am always writing... at?


Arguing with samblob is fun... i always enjoy conversation with inteligent people. ( oh the irony of all the gramatical errors in that sentance )


I hav'nt written in runes for a while, I may have forgotten the code.

I'd like you guys to understand what these entries are to me. They're a short glimpse directly into the mind of DJ. The way I write this stuff, is exactly how I think it in my head. So if these entries seem scatter-brained or random, they are. That being said,

I love Gabby.

Sorry, Just thinking that, so I had to write/type it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Everyone has a need to be in control of something. For me, It's music. If I'm not in control, I'm not happy. I know that's a terrible thing to say and all, but it's true. It really is an incredibly hypocritical statement when you think about it. " If I'm not in control of creativity, I'm not happy." You can't control Art, therefore you can't control music. But I don't mean it like that. If you've talked to me for five minutes, you know I have a band. If you've been around my band, you know that I have no control over them at all. When I say I need to be in control of music, I mean my own. I can't stand it when I play something I've written, and someone says, "I know that from somewhere.", or ," I've heard that song before". If you say that about something I've put my soul into , I'll stop playing it around you, Hell, I'll stop playing around you.

Likewise, many parents/guardians seem to have a need to be in complete control of their children. They feel like they have no control at their job, or in their social life, so they over-control their kids. To tell your child that this is happening is a huge mis-step. If you don't say anything, or acknowledge it's happening, your child will just think "It's because they love/care about me alot." ,or, "Jeez, what a bitch". They'll think you have a reason (however stupid) behind what you're doing. But when you tell your child, " Alot's been going on at work, so I'm going to be harder on you than usual." it all goes to hell. Your child will realize that hypocrisy runs wild in your household, and if they examine the past, they might just see that it always has.

So, I'm going to pull a Hannah and finnish this out with a song written by someone else that reflects with stunning exactness how I feel right now.


Overweight x Blue October



"Ever carried the weight of another?
For how long?
I walk as far as they need to recover
For how long?

I want to carry a piece of who I was before
So when I hit the wall, I really hit the wall
I want to tear away the death again
A whiter shade of fucking meth again
I want to stick to clues, I want to come unglued
I want to shape the world to fit the way you move
Oh, should I listen for a dress size?

I owned up, I've grown up, do you remember me?
I showed up and so what if I'm the used to be
I'm here to tell you that I'm sorry I was sorry
But I'm happy that you're happy
This is no longer about me

Trade roles, switch sides for your beautiful eyes
Let him be you through your beautiful cries
Let him hold you up so you can touch affordable skies
Live your life just like a dream
Without the pain of goodbyes
Goodbye!

Ever carried the weight of another?
For how long?
I walk as far as they need to recover
For how long?

I been a flunked disrespectful little street punk
Unlock the back of my trunk
You see, you take this bat
And bash my head into the street again
No-ones around so I keep beating it

Pull my hair back, look me in the eye
There's a self-destructive meaning in the bleeding of a guy
It's the guilt of what reality has given me
Making sense of all mistakes and my stupidity
And when you're sick you seem to think
You've failed eternally
And that the people you let in are only crumbling
When you're sick of thinking life in this recovery
When my decision paved the road
That lies in front of me
So to my friends that even call but I don't call back
I want you deep inside my heart upon a hill
It seems to hide sometimes and run away and wonder
I'm really sick of saying sorry but I will

Ever carried the weight of another?
For how long?
I walk as far as they need to recover
For how long?

But are we scared to take the ride?
Or dare to look inside?
I'm floating far away (far away)
I'm floating far away (leaving home)
I'm floating far away (so far away)
I'm floating far away

I want to learn to walk with others as an equal
I want to treat the ones who love me with respect
I want to tell the world I'll give them all a piggyback
And try to take away my negative effect
I want to kiss the girl, I know I'll never lie again
I want to call my dad and tell him that I care
I want to let my brother know
He saved my life a thousand times
Throughout the years he's been my friend
Who's always there

Ever carried the weight of another?
For how long?"

I'm tired of freezing. I'm tired of speaking. I'm tired of waiting around.
I'm tired of lying. I'm tired of hiding. I'm tired of backing down.
I'm tired of verse. I'm tired of riffs. I'm tired of my music not talking.
I'm tired of soreness. I'm tired of stiffness. I'm tired of one-legged walking.

So I have to come to terms with life. I have to come to terms with growing up. I have to realize that I can't act like a four year old in everything I do anymore. Realize that I'm not innocent anymore. Realize that girls don't have cooties (anymore XD).

I had to go all sorts of places today, and all I could think about was how I wanted to be with Gabby the whole time. It pissed me off. I kept thinking about her and drifting off into space. But anyway dotdotdot


I bloodied myself purty good today, I fell down an up escilator (sp?). It sucked XD.

I an now officialy addicted to monster energy drinks.

------------Botteled Water.

Somebody took the most abundant resource on the planet, put it in a bottle, and put a two dollar pricetag on said bottle.


----------Cars.

Walk, bitch.


--------Gasoline.

See above.


----------The Fire Department

They ruined my fun, and then called me funny names. Lawlz. Arsonist. Funny name indeed.


-------------Leather.


Dont wear the skin of a dumb, innocent animal. You have your own. Kill plants, they suck. Cotton = Thorns. Thorns suck.


--------------High School.

The worst of the prison systems.


------I'm sure there's more, but I gotta go now.





EDIT: I hate armrest things in the theatres that wont come up. They suck.

I'm not your toy
I'm not your teddy bear
I'm just a boy
And I wont always be there
I'm always abused
mistreated for fun
like a doll might be used
then burned with the sun
So if I think of leaving
retreating to safety
continuing breathing
(you re choking me lately)
It's not an attack
not insulting your honor
I just need to get back
(this "short verse" just gets longer)
Get back to my dorm
and come out of the rain
get out of the storm
and go back with the grain
I've been fighting myself
tricking me to stay here
when it's bad for my health
and my death feels so near
so this started for you
but now it's aimed at me
though I don't know if it's true
or if it's what i need
so I think on it more
sleep on it a night
try to find my own core
and stay out of your sight

Why do we wait until the last minute to tell people how we feel about them?
Why do we expect a response when we do?
Won't they be caught off-guard?
Won't they only be caught off-guard because we didn't tell them when we should have?
Why did we keep it hidden inside for so long?
Why did we hide it at all?
Why are we offended when people can see the truth?
Why do we lie to everyone?
Why do we lie to ourselves?
Why do we need to convince ourselves that we're okay, when we really need help?
Why don't we like getting help?
Why do we hate those who give it freely?
Why do we abuse the gifts of generous people?
Why aren't we all generous people?
Don't generous people try to teach us to be like them?
Why don't we listen to those who should be our teachers?
Shouldn't we try to learn from everyone?
Shouldn't we try to learn to tell people how we feel?

If I knew how, I would do a voice post... and just scream into the phone.

There is no way to describe the way I feel right now.
I don't think I've ever felt so many emotions at once.

I'm psyced about saturday.
Daisy playing drums with me.
That will be amazing. Having my drummer be such a good friend.
And my other guitarist be....

I don't know.
Let's talk about that.

I am so damn confused. There's this girl. [ my guitarist ] And I know she loves me.
She told me in numorous ways, and probobly thinks I'm too dense to see any of them.
Or that I don't feel anything for her. Which is not true.
 I love her too. But I havn't worked up the nerve to tell her.
We've gone out before, but she broke up with me... so it's not exacly the first time I've felt this way. 
But it is.
This feels different. This feels real. This feels like what I felt before was just... not love.
But I know it was.
At least I think it was.
I don't know.
I'm so damn confused.

But even if I could figure out what I feel, I don't know if it woud be good for us to go out or whatever.
She's Bi. Now, that isn't bad in itself. But she's very touchy-feely with her friends, and I can't watch.
I never could. It hurt before, but I didn't know why.
Now I know, and to see her hold hands, or kiss another girl. [ like today ]
IT KILLS ME.

And, I know why she broke up with me before. Because I went to boarding school.
But no matter how much I try, or how much we both say no, there's always the chance that I might mess up and have to go back. And I won't do that to her.
I can't do that to her.
I should have seen that last time, when I left, I should have let her go. But I was [ and am ] so selfish, that I felt I needed to keep her tied to me so far away. And in a way, I did. The toughts of her are the only thing that kept me going in that place. 

So, I hope to see her at the movies on saturday after I practiced with Daisy. And if I do, I better have the guts to tell her how I feel. If I don't, I don't know what I'll do, but it wont be good.


So, I'll proboby post this later, like after I talk to her. I want me saying it to be the first time she hears it.

I LOVE YOU GABBY.

EDIT :This is set to private so don't blab.

You guys can ask me anything... seriosly, just ask. I'm Bored.

I'm tired of telling people I'm o.k.
I'm not gonna do it anymore.
I refuse to lie for the sake of others comfort.
[that's some shit... we all know I will anyway. no matter how much I whine about it]

I went to a football game on friday, where I intended to talk to someone about a certain series of letters.[notes... stupid high school.] But I didn't acually say anything till the last minute. [by then it was too late] But I got called back [i love my cell phone] wich was good, we got a whole three minutes of talking in before my gramma [ incredibly timeing-adept person she is ] shows up and I have to get of the phone.

[Yay for vaugeness]

Then I have to go to this stupid cabin in North Carolina for the whole weekend [with no cell service] and just sit and think [ and write very, very emo songs ] about what is going on right now.

Then [ are you ready for the good part? ] in a flash of my sadistic torturer's [ You know him as fate ] true plans, I get a magical call from the Aether [ still no service, hence the magical ] telling me that Whitneys ex-boyfriend [ Jacob] killed himself. We werent that close, but it just got me thinking about shit that I should'nt be thinking about. [Not now. Not ever.] And realizing that I havn't really squared with Whitneys death. I just avoid thoughts of her and try to work things out myself. And it's not working.

So now, Im in a cabin way out in the country with two dead friends and many very high cliffs to throw myself off of. And what do I do? Write songs like a good little emo. [ I would have thrown myself of a cliff, but with my luck, I'd have lived]

And I still don't ave a clue what's going on with Gabby. [ screw vaugness, I'm pissed]
But I think I'll just let it be like it is.
So neither of us get hurt.
[ when I say that, I feel like screaming and smashing my head into a wall ]

But no, I'll just write about it on this site, and pretend I'm o.k. then you will all read this and be all... not talking to me. [ 'cept the inquisitor ] And I'll ahte myself for posting this up.
So, I think this could be my last post [ this journal might became dedicated to the DJ FAQs]
Just because I know It will screw me.


EDIT: and my dejavu still hasnt gone away.

I'm such a fucking hypocrite.
I do the same things that I bitch at other people for. [ but I bitch at everybody about everything]
Like posting very personal things on the internet.
I disregaurd people who do that as spineless, attention-mongers, and tell them to work out they're problems in real life.
So, I guess thats what I am.

Oh the fuck well.

I guess I just made the mistake of assuming I was safe from people I know.
Alas, this is not so.
But It's my fault.
I told them what it was, and told her to go read it.
So I brought this upon myself.
You know what?

FUCK!T

I get to hear "what's wrong?" all day now.
And no matter how many times Iie and say I'm fine they wont leave me alone.
This is why I don't know that many peope.
This is why I ony have a handfull of friends.
Because someone always thinks they can help.
But they cant.
No one can.
But at the same time, they are trying.
I respect them for that.
I love her for that.
And I'm glad she tries.
I'm glad she pushes so hard.
I glad she tries to get past the outer shell.
But the more she does, the harder it is to stay detached.
The harder it is to stay cold.
The harder it is to pretend that "just friends" is o.k.
And so at the same time as appreciating the effort to help.
At the same time as liking the concern.
I need her to back off.
I need her to show less compasion.
Less caring.
Less concern.
She's giving me to much to remember.
Removing locks on blocked memories.
Just let me go.
So I can let go too.
And we can be "just friends".



Anyway, on a much less emo, less interperitve note.



I'm not trying to push anyone away
and I'm not being anti social, and I'm not ignoring anyone.
I'm still listening to everyone.
and everything thats going on is bugging me to hell.
But every time I open my mouth, somthing WRONG comes out. 
Every litte thought I have is somthing I shouldn't say.
Somthing I shoudn't do.
To many feelings.
To much drama.
To many distractions.
And to little time.
You all need to help eachother, talk to eachother, and stop trying to vampire me for information. [ yes vampire is now a verb ]
And stop trying to use me as a liaison.

From now on, I will put my random thoughts in []'s and not *'s... [Just thought you shoud know :)]

O.k. this faq thing is freaking fun.

And talking to erynn [when you came to a certain spot in the below text, I mean her too]  more is freaking awesome.

And school is a BITCH.

I hate Gabby [not really... at all.] she can actually tell when somthings wrong with me [or she's the only one who even gives half a shit] and it's annoying [in a good way].

It seems al she has to say all day is "whats wrong?" and it seriously is annoying [in a bad way].
So, I keep saying "nothing" all day, just cause I know that if I tell her anywhere at school, someone else will hear it and spread nasty rumors. 
But the ony other time we talk is on the internet.
Actually, I don't think I coud tell her anyway. She'd think I'm crazy. [I think I'm crazy]


So, yeah, I'm gonna post this here, where noone will spread nasty rumors, and certain people mentioned in the body of this post[this is the spot mentioned above] can read it. 




I'm fucking psycic.
I have dejavu.
And It's been happening alot latey.
Last time tit happened this much was right before Gabby broke up with me [ wich at the time, was a big fucking deal ]
And before that, it happened before my great-gramma [ who was also psycic ] died.
Speaking of my grammas, My great-great-gramma [ who lived to be 102 and I met for that reason] was aso psycic.
My mom is psycic, but my gramma [ the one i live with ] won't say she has had anything weird happen to her.
So, I think somthing big is about to happen.
But I don't know what, and I seem to only have a knack for forecasting bad events.
[ That's why I'm kinda out Gabyy, I'm worried, and I think I might trigger somthing ]
AND I DON'T GIVE A DAMN IF ANY OF YOU THINK I'M CRAZY!

So, Just as Morgan got her own "issue" of this blog, So too shall Erynn get one.
Except, Erynns will be done with much more... um... direct-ness.
'Cause she actually asked a question, so I can give her an answer without having to make up a reason.
So, without further ado.... (is that how you spell that?) * ahem*

Q:How did you get into making music?

A: I've been into (listening to) music since about the summer before sixth grade. When I was like, ZOMG! Linkin park sounds good! And so it was, that the innocent little DJ was no longer an ignorant little fuck.

So, I bugged my dad until he got me a drumset, which he did.(which he was totaly ok with, cause he's played guitar since he was ten. and He's really good)
But I would'nt play the set while anyone was around, cause I sucked XD. Probobly 'cause I never had any practice, 'cause I never played around any one. I'ts a big circle of oddities. Like My life.


So when he and I stoped talking (I'll get into that later), I bought a guitar out of spite, with his child support money. IN YOUR FACE BITCH!!!!!!!! *sorry, that always comes to mind when I think of that day* Anyway, I did that cause he was always like, "But I could teach you guitar", I think he thought I thought he was'nt good. (wow, what a weird chain of thought) but I never thought he WAS good 'cause I didn't listen to music yet (exept for like, Linkin Park, Switchfoot, and Smash mouth). If any of that makes any sence, keep reading, if not ( or if you're bugged by my weird 'random thought' sentance structure ) dont.

So, Skip forward a year, I now have drums that I bang around every once in a while on solely for the perpose of anger release, and a guitar that's been on my floor for a year( I never clean my room... ever. ^.^ ). About now, I'm really into (listening to) music, alot of bands, and own like a billion cd's.

Skip forward anoter two years, and I'm about to go to O.B.I., I take my guitar, cause I know I'm gonna have alot of free time to do whatever I want to do. So I figure, hey, I'll practice guitar! So, pretty much all year, I played guitar for about two hours a day. And I got good. So, my friend colin came to O.B.I with me, and we played together alot. And we were like, ZOMG! ( not really) tour would be so fucking fun if we were in a famous band. So, we decided to be kickass rock stars when we grow up, instead of having boring profesions like every one else.

If this post had a dedication page, I would dedicate this to Morgan. But It doesn't have a dedication page, It just has this paragraph. So, I'm gonna use it instead. *my hands are cold.*

So, why did I dedicate this to Morgan you ask; oh, you didn't ask, then fuck you too.

Morgan kinda, sorta, indirectly, asked me why I hate crowds.
So I'll tell you. And by you, I mean all of you. Morgan included. *XD lurve the morgan-ness*


Q: why do you hate crowds?


A:I hate crowds because they hurt.
The sound of them hurts, it tears at my skull like a little mutant chiwawa scatching at a small cage in a room where his favourite chew toy is just on the otherside.
Suposedly...
I have a problem with "auditory proccessing".

This is the way my psycologist put it,
There are 3 levels of proccessing sound:
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The first, is when you can hear a sound and name it. (Like if you hear a sound and know it's a bell.)

Well, I'm not deaf. and I sure as hell know what a guitar sounds like, so, I'm good here.


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The second, is when you can name that sound. (Like if you hear a bell at school you think: fire alarm)

I have this "better" than many people. ( this is where my freaky mutant super powers come in XD)

For example, If I hear rock music, my brain seperates the peices of it, so i hear each seperatly. Drums, guitar, bass, tambourine XD, all come apart, but run at the same time. Like when you see a puzzle thats been done. You see the picture, but at the same time , you know it's a puzzle, cause you can see the groves of the individual peices.


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The third, is when you can relate the sound to somthing else. (like if you hear the fire alarm and think, get out of the building. now.)

I have this "worse" than most people. ( this is where my freaky mutant super-hero weakness comes in :| )

I can't concentrate on more than any one part of a sound. I hear everything at once and know what everything is, but I can't think past " people are talking " or " lycanthrope by +44 " ,I can't seperately evaluate the sounds.
So, in a crowd of loud, obnoxious teenagers whose voices are changing, I hear everyone within earshot's conversations and the hum of everybody else, at one time, with no way to block it out. I can concentrate hard on listening to one person thats very close, but it takes alot of effort.


The pain comes from my brain trying to get all the sounds and act on them at one time. I don't go to resturaunts often 'cause I don't like to have to have a conversation with someone I'm with and have to listen to all the other peoples conversations. I can't not eavesdrop. I'm sorry I heard you, I'm sorry I couldn't help it.
(And then there's the distraction of food. XD)




So, thats why I hate the halls, the west mall, and the cafeteria (ugh, the cafeteria)

Simple math.



I hate crowds.
Bearden = over-crowded.
----------------------------therefore
I hate Bearden.


I love my friends.
Bearden = friends.
-----------------------------
I love Bearden.

People need to stop fucking being so damn self-centered.



I'm sick of all this attention grabbing emo shit.

I know some people who are trying to tell everyone how bad their life is, even though nothing really happened.

The world doesn't need your dumbassoverexageratios of how little Jimmy loves you, or how you wish you could dye your hair, but your "GORBDAMNEVILSONOFABITCH" mom wont let you.

And another thing, Don't bitch about your parents to me.

EVER.

I don't wanna fucking know how bad your mom is or if your dad wont let you have a cell phone, so he MUST be spawn of satan.

You people can't come to me and expect sympathy.

Sure, I've had some bad things happen to me, but there are people who have it so much worse.

Don't pester me about my problems, and don't tell me your stupid sappy stories.



I'm totally o.k. with talking about REAL problems.



I also know some people who are trying to get help with REAL issues.

REAL things that they need to get past that they're trying to get help with.

Also, There are a lot of people who won't come out and tell you their problems, because they don't want to bother you, or more likely, they just don't want you to know.

These are usually the people with real problems.

People who don't even know how to say what's going on.

People who don't want sympathy, and just want to get on.



Then, there's some people who are completely stuck.

Torn, hurt, and bleeding from the soul.

That kind you see, that walks through the hallways with their fists clenched hard and their eyes barely open.

Trying to drown out the noise.

Trying to stay sane.

Trying to get everyone to leave them the fuck alone.

That doesn't know who to talk to , REALLY talk to .

That doesn't want to let EVERYONE know, so is scared to let ANYONE know.



Or mabee they're not quiet.

Mabee they bounce around all day trying to forget what goes on at home.

Trying to make as many friends as possible to make up for the lack of family.

Trying to get your attention, just to feel loved.

The kind that pour their whole heart out to all their friends, and expect it not to get trampled on.

The kind that trust so willingly, you stab them in the back just because you can.





You know these people.

I know these people.

Yet, neither of us will help them.

Why do we prtend not to know what's going on? Like playing dumb is going to solve anything?

I say this, beacause recently, this has come up in alot of different areas of my life.

My friends are all having somthing go on that sucks. But none of us will actually sit down with eachother and just talk about whats going on. Even though we all have the time and resources to.So, I'm gonna just tske this post and let all of you that read this 
(both of you) that if you ever need someone to talk to, I'm here. (that sounds like some unbelivably cheesy teacher/guidence counselor shit)

Anyway, i would bitch the rest of my problems, but it'll all come out in my music. (who the fuck am I kidding?)

Im gonna shave my head... whadya think?

Bus, Hannah *Yay* , AND Daisy *double Yay*, and the drivers kewl.

Homeroom with Brooke *shivers* and Gabby *is ok again*

1st Block- the teacher likes to repeat repeat himself, and say the same sentence multiple times with the emphasis on a different word. It's called Innovations and inventions, but it has nothing to do with innovations or inventions.

2nd block- Latin. yes, im a nerd like that. Morgans in that class, but she doesnt talk to me. :(

Lunch- with Gabby *yay* Hannah *ok* and a bunch of new peeps.

3rd block- i have to follow hannah to this this class cause i dont have a clue where it is. And the teacher acts like were all 2nd graders. colored pencils.... she actualy told us to get colored pecils. I thought biology would be like , interesting.

4th block- English, with...... Gabby, I would say yay again, but you get the picture. I hate the teacher. she likes me, and singles me out. and is efing old.