Resolve

And here we are, Christmas, looking down the barrel of New Years.
It's remarkable how much things can change: This time last year, I was in my final year of high school, prepping to go down to Mexico to visit the girl who I felt certain was the one

Now, I don't know if I'll ever see her again

Time changes, people change, and the unexpected always finds a way of falling straight into your lap. The only choice that you really have is whether you want to embrace it, or throw it off, and try to grasp at something more rational. In this next year, I pledge live for me, to be the strongest and wisest man I can, making everything just a tiny bit better for me, and those I care about.

I've lost love, but not hope.
Never hope

Fiat Lux

Huh.
Well, would you look at that?
I've finished my first semester of university, my heart still beating, having stared down the demons of deadlines, social pressures, girls, and generally terrible lifestyle choices. My "hearts I've broken" counter has risen by three (idea for a new blog plugin?), but despite that I feel much more self-assured about who I am, and what it means to be undyingly in love.
I've met a lot of new people, made some enemies, but mostly friends. I've got some new personal philosopies (namely that you really, *really* do not get any choice in the kind of people who enter your life)
I've learned just a tiny bit more about what happiness means, just a tiny bit more about what being a grown-up means...
And who knows? Maybe I am actually ready to take on 2012
Ladies and gentlemen, this one's for you

Blogging about Caffeine, Vampires and NaNoWriMo

A friend of mine wrote about how caffeine has been doing strange things to both her waking and sleeping habits and schedules. My relationship with the drug is somewhat different from hers.

First things first: I love coffee. It is arguably my favorite drink on the planet... don't get it in your head that I'm some kind of coffee connoisseur though. I'll drink any brown sludge-water you so happen to sling my way. Free coffee at an insurance place, six dollars for a cup some upper-town fancy joint with beans from three different continents, whatever. I'm not picky. I like it black, I prefer it strong, but when push comes to shove, I'll take anything

This, however has become a problem for me. You see, my base coffee intake on any given day is 3-5 cups, but this is a bad thing. It has gotten to the point where if I don't have a fix of at least 2 cups, I feel tired, I get a little shaky headaches start heading my way, and (most tremblingly) I feel sad, and generally unhappy with most everything. Now, these are the symptoms of withdrawal

Ladies and gentlemen, from an academic standpoint, I have a caffeine addiction... the crossroads that I now find myself at is this one: Should I continue drinking coffee, coca-cola, or any otherwise caffeinated beverage I can get my hands on, or should I try to cool it with how much I take?


On a completely unrelated topic, I am going to be attempting NaNoWriMo (For those of you who don't know, that is National Novel Writing Month (Which, not being a very skilled writer as I am, will be National (attempt a) Novella Writing Month-ish)). I'll give you more details on the scope of what I'm working on once I can finitely put it in less foolish terms, but I'll post bits and pieces of it as I work, and maybe once I'm done, the finished product.

Last, but not least, the game series Disgaea (4) has sunk it's horribly addictive meta-gaming claws into me once again. This game... man, one can literally play it forever and never run out of things to do in it. The plot follows the trials of a vampire who has sworn off human blood as he tries to take control over the government of Hell, allthewhile dealing with a plethora of wacky Japanese-flavored hijinks. If there's anybody who reads this who has a lot of time on their hands, can get a kick out of Japanese humor (with extraordinary English voice acting), and likes strategy, this is the game for you.

Alright, that's all for now, I'll be back with more things to say before too long
Have a delightful evening
~ Chris

I hate to say it, but I think I've lost my words.
I hope they'll return to me before too long. I really want to write, but I cannot create anything.

Everything is Wonderful in Heaven

My eyes are red and there are unsightly shadows underneath them. I have been crying and cannot sleep. I do not know exactly what keeps me awake, but I feel a tremendous sense of weariness and loss in my head. There is a small blonde puppy underneath my left arm, who is looking up at me, sad and confused about the setting and the role she finds herself in.

Sundance Boulevard

There is peace to be found in having no obligations. To be able to stay out late, to hold hands and learn things about yourself that you never knew through the words of an almost stranger. To drive into the night, and sing, to play on swings and jump over fences.

There is peace to be found in sleeping with a smile on your face. Letting your mind wander to happy places, and exploring a new world with a brand new perspective.

Sometimes, everything just... works out nicely.

Next Stop: Tomorrow

i am okay.

Life is pretty good mostly, and when it's not pretty good, I make the best of what I'm given.

The skies are blue, the sun is out, and it looks like things are working out alright.

We End Up Together

When you gonna do some damage,
Little Brother?
Now that half your life is over
If you're lucky
Looking at the trends of men down
Through your family

Boom, there go the treetops
Once more 'round the sun dried
Just in case you were not listening
I'm for damage
Sweet damage
Oh, damage
Sweet damage
Oh, damage

Sometimes, you just hear little things, short sentences, or snippets of a poem or a song that just cuts deep and rings true with your current state of mind. Right now, that mood is one of reflection and aknowledgement. Tomorrow, I start university, a new huge new step in my life. I'm very excited for it all, but I am a little nervous... I suppose I've never been one to back down from anything though. Better to just tuck in my knees and jump, I think.
Come the good or the bad, we're in this together. I love every single one of you, and on this journey... well, I'm looking forward to where it'll take us

In the eyes of the law I'm an adult... and maybe, just a little bit I'm starting to feel like one.

Calling all Bloggers

Good God, it's like everybody I know has given up on blogging! Stop it you guys, I really like reading what you all I have to say. It's lonely to be writing to nobody D:

P.S. I have an idea involving collabrative writing efforts. If anybody is interested in doing this with me, let me know

Songs for this Summer

This Year- The Mountain Goats

We End Up Together- The New Pornographers

Apocolypse Pop Song- Memphis

Calgary- Bon Iver

Winter Beats- I Break Horses

Sleepyhead- Passion Pit

Fix You Up- Tegan and Sara

'Till the World Ends- Jimmy Wong

The Wagon- Dinosaur Jr.

Where is My Mind- The Pixies

Haven't made any playlists in a while, but I like this one. Enjoy!


P.S. I have acoustic versions of "Where is My Mind" and "Sleepyhead" for you! I nearly put both of these on the playlist, but I figured the originals captured the summery feeling better.

July, Chapter 2, A/N

Though I don't want to write much on my process, or on the narrative itself, I do want it to be made clear that as this is being written, anything that feels left out is done so intentionally, and what feels awkward will be rectified in the near-ish future. That aside, let me know what is bad about this. This little project is an experiment of my own fiction-writing abilities. Whatever criticism is to be had will help me figure out what I can do to improve my technique.

Have a lovely evening!

Cheers
~ Chris

Mournings

I wake up exhausted. I sleep, hoping that a comatose state will be deliverance from my state of longing, but night after night, I toss, my thoughts fixated on nothing but her. The darkness leaves me with nothing but my own thoughts, and in my isolation, I'm left with nothing but dreams.

When I dream, it's always of the same picture, so plain and simple. I am allowed to wake up with her in my arms. That's all. Before I'd open my eyes I can feel her skin against mine, my hands against her body pulling her closer by reflex. Even when she isn't here, I still wake up with the memory of her smell wafting through my head.

Even with all of the hurt though, the memory of every second with her is a blessing. The lonliness will not leave, and I've come to terms with this. I cannot, and I will not give up anything though. Come hell or high water, I'm in this 'till the end.

Snowflakes

Beautiful, don't let the night in. Close the door, shut everything that isn't my voice out. Dim the lights, and lean against me. Let your heart be bound by my arms, let the cold of the air frighten you into my touch, let my fingers climb up your thigh, into the curves of your body.

Darling, call me to you. Watch me move, and shut everything that isn't my body out. Hold me against the night. Remind me what it feels like to be safe. To be loved. Let the clock spin, and let the world fade away. I want to feel you want me. To lose yourself in my body, and my heart

Die in my arms/Die in my arms

Sweetheart, as I watch the snow fall outside, twisting, dancing and falling, I pull you tight to my chest, and relish in existing in this moment. We let reality fall apart. We don't need rules or money. Fingertips and lips are more than enough for us. Feel the steam from my throat on your neck.

Lover, indulge in this feeling. Too soon, the morning will come, and this will be nothing but lingering nostalgia, growing sweeter, and tragically more false by the hour. This, here and now is the only thing that has to be real. Hold me against the winter. Hold me against the truth.

July, Chapter two

The duo sat on a curb outside of the store. Above them, trees rustled with the movement of a small gust of wind, warm to the touch. The young man balanced himself back on the palm of one hand, taking a deep drink from the bottle of sweet black liquid, his head facing straight towards the nearly-invisible stars. Next to him, Meagan was hunched over, both of her hands tightly wrapped around the bottle, and she took a small, but satisfying drink. For a minute, the silence, though not uncomfortable continued.

Suddenly, the boy stood up, and motioned to be followed. She complied hastily, brushing dust off the backside of her shorts with one hand. He tilted the bottle in his hand, and looked discontentedly at the eighth of the contents left. Shrugging, he lobbed the bottle towards a nearby trashcan, bouncing it off of the rim as the contents magnificently sprayed on the sidewalk.
"My legs are starting to feel stiff", said the boy, walking around in smallish circles for no logical reason.
"Well then... what are we doing hanging around here?" replied Meagan, gazing out into the darkness down the center of the street. "Let's go for a walk or something... besides, aren't I supposed to be keeping up with you?

He smiled back at her, and without saying a word, began slowly walking down the sidewalk, even his relaxed pace having almost a hop to it, a slow, simple undenyable vitality. As Meagan caught up to him, he began to speak, his voice like his walk, mature, but with telltale signs of rambunctious youthfullness.
"So, why is it you won't tell me your name, exactly?" She asked, "I mean, what is it you're trying to prove, that is?"

"It's just one of those things, y'know? I mean, in day to day life, I'm just me. Here though, I'm someone remarkable. I'm a fucked-up, strange... enigma. If you don't know what I am, then your guesswork will make any details..." He stopped, trailing off to look at a small patch of flowers growing in a yard adjacent to him. With no regard for the owners of the home, he marched across the grass, as Meagan stood, her mouth in a half smile, watching this boy as he picked a single yellow flower, spun around, walked back across the grass, and handed it to her.

"Talk is cheap, and I was thinking- You wanna go see the stars? I know a place just outside of town we could head off to, if your up for it."

"Yeah. Let's go"

Lonely Haiku

He runs his fingers
Through her golden-coloured hair
Heartbeats

Carolina

And I'm off on another adventure!

Thunderstorm

There is a thunderstorm raging oustide. Rain, lightning, wind, the whole nine yards.
I like thunderstorms. So powerful, yet peaceful

Dark Horizons

I love looking out at cities during the night, and seeing all the cars, and lights and streets.
It's funny, every single little light is symbolic of a life, in a sort of way. Every lightbulb has a person under it, a person with a face, and a family, and a personality. A man or a woman, or maybe even a child who lies, loves, yells, dreams and likes to sleep in sometimes. I love such a vast span of life that I can see so openly. Sometimes, when we look at crowds of people, we have tendencies to drown in our own solipsism, and that idea in itself seems strange to me. It's beautiful to embrace consciousness and humanity on a larger scale, y'know?

Anyways, that's all for tonight. Just some short ramblings. Comment, share your own thoughts, and have a lovely evening, every single one of you

Judging a Book...

I have a friend who mentions to me every now and again being drawn to certain people based on the interesting clothing they may be wearing, or their certain mannerisms. Generally, I dismiss her behavior as just a little tick, but something like that happened to me today.
My outfit was a stranger one, a gray hoodie with a Tron-esque armor print, cargo shorts, blue suede Converse shoes, and a Cowboy hat I had recently purchased. I was walking along the beach when I hear a voice call out "NICE HAT!" as two girls ran over to me, and hastily took my picture. They then proceed to chat with me, and although it was a brief conversation, I realized that simply my appearance drew the two over. It was bizarre, but made me feel good about my fashion decision.

That is all. Also, it should be noted that Americans are crazy when it comes to the 4th of July

July

The two figures ran, silhouetted against, and then briefly illuminated by the street lights above them. A small trail of water droplets jumped off of their bodies and splattered to the ground, to a puddle underneath the smaller of the two, a young woman, no more then twenty who had stopped, and was bent over panting, her hands on her knees.

The water forced her blue long-sleeved shirt to hug to her frame, giving away the slight curves of her body, which were even more articulated by the light above. Her hair hung over her face, hiding her forehead and eyes until she stood upright, as she pulled it behind her shoulders. Her breath dictated the speed of her words being spoken, as the grin across her face subtracted from what would otherwise be serious words.

"Do you think anybody actually saw us?"

"Honestly, I don't think so.", came the reply from her counterpart, an average-height young man with blonde hair that hung halfways down his neck. His voice was lighthearted, and of eager spirits, but with an air of leadership and caution. He was equally as soaked as the young woman next to him, and although several years younger, he appeared somewhat more in his element. He scratched his chin and cocked his head to the right and looked off into the shadowy distance.

"So... Now what?" He asked to the crisp night air, relishing in the confused delight of his companion.

"Well, if we don't have anything that needs to be done, I'm starting to feel a little thirsty..." Came a quiet reply from the girl.

Without warning, the young man grabbed her hand and began running along the sidewalk, with a small yelp, she tried to keep up with him. Her sandals making uneven slapping sounds against the concrete, whereas the young man's stride was more even, and his footsteps nearly silent against the ground.

"That pool thing was quite the stunt!" She said o him, their moderate pace perfect for a disjointed sort of conversation, the type where body language and movement says even more than the words that are actually spoken. "Do you take all the girls out here?"

"Only the cute ones," He laughed as the sticky-sweet words poured out his mouth, and he consciously realized that he was the ironic portrait of a modern romantic. "Ah, there it is, just up ahead.' The two slowed their pace as they approached the parking lot of a twenty-four hour convenience store. The place looked grim at best, the florescent lights on the ceiling casting a sickly green glow onto them as they entered the store. Silently, the walked to the cooler in the back, no longer holding hands, but both halfways wanting to, not out of romance, but of comfort in such an unfamilliar environment.

"So, I didn't actually get your name" Said the girl absentmindedly, her body mostly dry by this point, but still somewhat damp to the touch. She reached inside of the cooler and grabbed a Coca-Cola that expired two days ago, which she noticed as she checked the label. She held it up for the boy to take, and he did as she simultaneously grabbed a second one for herself. "Care to elaborate?"

"Hmm..." He thought out loud. "Tell you what, I'll make you a deal- for tonight, for just a couple more hours, if you can keep up with me, I'll let you in." A genuine smile crept across his face as he held out his hand in some excessively formal gesture, seeming somewhat prone to the symbolic nature of things.

"You've got it" She replied, taking his hand again, and looking him straight in his brown eyes. "I'm Meagan"

You lay awake in the night just staring at the ceiling above you
In your heart, memories of him play over and over, like a broken record
The death of what you had, of the love you once knew is hard to accept
Because you know everything that happened is exclusively your doing.

To die in one life is to be born in another

I'm supposed to write every night... right now, I can hardly keep my eyes open though.

Tonight, I wish all my readers this- may your rest be punctuated only by the arms of a lover, and the sweetest of dreams.

Goodnight, world

Sidewalk

Today I had a moment of total unadulterated joy. I had just left a store about a block away from my car, and was walking back to it, when I thought `I don`t want to wear shoes right now. It`s a beautiful day, a gentle breeze and blue skies, I think I want to be barefoot`. So, I promptly kicked off my shoes and whistled a little tune to myself while the wind blew at my back, buffeting my hair about my face. My short walk was little more than a minute long, but it was a truly wonderful minute. It wasn`t just that it felt liberating physically to let my feet be free, but also that I simply didn`t have to care about anybody or anything around me. It was just me and a gleeful whistle.

I think I`m going to spend more time barefoot

Summer

Hey, guess what?
I'm finished high school!
And now, I have a long summer ahead of me before beginning my life in university in the Fall, so, I'm totally ready for everything this sumer has to offer. From now until September I'm going to try to do a post every day, just update the world on my best summer ever.
And for now, I'm off to bed, ready to take on the world

Forever sixteen, forever summer
And guess what?
You and I are gonna live forever

I'm back

I am a writer at heart. I form letters into words into phrases into sentences into paragraphs into pages into stories.
However, a writer as I may be, my time for writing and inspiration has been sparse, to say the least. At the moment, my life is going through what might be called by some a "crazy patch". I still have ideas, I still have drive, but right now, I don't know how to get them all out.
This summer is rapidly approaching, however, and I'm getting back to the way this blog started: A post a day. After I get out of classes on the 23rd of June, every day until the first week of September, I'm going to make a post. Sometimes small little updates, sometimes emotional rants, or maybe a poem or a story. Whatever. All I want to say is, I'm not dead, and I'm not giving up on what I care about

Until the 24th- See you guys soon

Band practice Haiku

Guitars purr, amps buzz
Slowly, Drummer raises his arms
Explosion

Airport

I stand outside as the cars speed past me, the irritated drivers little more than a meter away not noticing the disjointed young man with his head hung low, staring down at the ground, as if it held some kind of distraction. I snap my head upward and hold my left index finger outwards and as I hear the bittersweet sound of aircraft engines warming up a cold shiver runs down my spine, from a sense of emptiness consuming my belly. A mere moment later, I see the airplane gain speed on the runway, the pilot suddenly seeming very akin to the drivers adjacent to me. I follow the speeding vessel down the runway with my finger, tracing it's path, wishing that I had some way to stop it from taking my greatest joy away, but as is expected, I am completely powerless to do anything but simply watch.

The plane is in the air now and I am leaning backwards, seeing it fly away, each passing second making it more and more impossible to feel anything but a incapacitating sense of utter hopelessness. Now, standing here alone, I whisper two syllables to the nothing around me-

"Goodbye."

Buzy

Hey everybody! I'm still alive, but things are just really, really crazy right now. From this point up until the summer, I don't think I'll be posting on this blog all that frequently. Please know that you're in my thoughts, and should you want to know what I'm up to, write me and I'll reply

That is all, have a wonderful day!

Adventure, Always

The day after tomorrow I depart on the adventure of a lifetime. There will probably be troubles along the way, I will most likely be stressed to the limit, possibly run very low on, or possibly out of money, have something break down, fall asleep at the wheel, or get something stolen.
And I wouldn't change all of the possible badness for anything in the world.
Readers, wish me luck.

Adventure, Always

Lovely

Life is beautiful. I see my friends smile, just laughing about day to day as we plan out our futures when we leave each other behind. I watch my lover, excited for the future, grab my hand and start running, and without a word, I'm in full sprint beside her, running through a fountain. I read about my beloved cousin's antics of poor judgment, and as I laugh, I still feel a great deal of joy for her accomplishment

And on top of all that, the moon is bright, and fat, April snowflakes are falling from the sky

Sometimes, everything is lovely.

Creeper

I pant with my back against the wall, sweat from my brow dripping onto the earth below. The walls of the cave reverberate with my staggered breathing, and I can't tell my heartbeats from the steps of my pursuer ringing in my ears. I tighten my grip on the blade in my hand and hold my flickering torch in my left.

I'm hundreds of feet underground and hopelessly lost. Nobody will hear my cries, my body's final resting place will remain unknown to the people I love.

I hope they won't search for me. I wouldn't wish this Hell upon anybody.

I pull away from the wall, and running my hand along the edge, I feel something rough, and shift my body to illuminate it. There's a soft glisten as a small smiles creeps across my face. Gold. How very novel. Mere hours ago, I would be rejoicing at this tiny deposit, but now it's just another dead weight to be carried by a man just clinging to the very idea of survival.

Suddenly, I hear it again. Footsteps
A deathly silence. He hears me. He smells me.
A moan to wake the dead.
I start running, but I'm too slow. I don't dare look behind me though. I can feel the lifeless gaze, and the soulless body stalking me, faster and faster
Until-

"sssssssssssssSSSSSS"

Then, silence.

Templates

I don't understand.

Why am I the only one who just doesn't seem to "get it"?

I have no goals, no future, nothing that makes me feel truly... me.

I'm supposed to go off into the world, go to university and learn things, become an adult finally... but what does that all entail? Where do I go? What do I do?

It's all just... a blank slate

No template

Alone

Every night alone is horrible. I lay awake, staring at the ceiling, trying to remember that every moment I'm away from you is just one less I have to spend pretending I'm not losing my mind on my own.

Forty-Nine more... some days, I just wish I could close my eyes, and miss all that time in between.

When push comes to shove though, I know this is what I signed on for... and for you, I'm prepared. It just hurts

Crazy days

There was a semi-crazed gunman at our school today, and the place was in a RCMP lockdown for two and a half hours. Nobody was hurt, but it was still a little on the scary side of things.

I played pokemon and finally caught the ever-elusive ditto in that time, and now am home.

I'm looking at buying a new pair of skis. They retail at about $700, but I think I know where I can find 'em for about $600. I think it would be a fun and exciting way to get back in shape next winter.

Also- am raising one of these things and need a nickname for him/her (they're genderless)

Day 1

For those of you who don't know already, for Lent, I have decided to give up caffeine. I was keeping track of my consumption, and it was... well, a lot higher than I thought it was. My reasoning behind this isn't really religious, so much as it is just a personal query, to see if I have the willpower to do so

Anyways, today was day 1 of my project... Today was a bad day for Ash Wednesday though. My band was playing at a pep rally in front of my entire school, so the better part of my afternoon was spent setting up, moving band members and gear from one location to another trying to get our ducks (and amps) in a row before performance time. The performance went all right, but immediately afterward we were flooded by friends telling us that we sounded great (and of course, the ones who had... other things to say). The problem with this attention was, however that we had to get certain pieces of gear back to their original locations in a very short span of time.

Suffice it to say, it was tiring today

Oh yeah. I wore short shorts too.

Chapter 1

This was the project mentioned in the previous post. Although only the first chapter, input is appreciated.

Gold and pink glow from beyond the rooftops as I shuffle down the sandpaper-like surface of my roof. Carefully, I climb down the drainpipe, and jump off three feet from the ground, my feet leaving a dark imprint in the dew soaked grass. I can feel tiny flecks of tile material embedded into my feet and the palms of my hands while I retrieve my socks and shoes from the front step of the house. Facing towards the sunrise, I begin walking, softly whistling myself a tune in rhythm with my hasty footsteps.

Ten minutes later, I arrive at my place of employment. A small blue building in the downtown, with large windows and a bland looking sign hanging parallel with the horizon that simply reads "Coffee", and as a joke, is now unofficially the name of the establishment. I push the door open with one hand and step inside. I survey the place, and let a weak smile creep over my face. The red and white tiles run unevenly across the floor, not lining up perfectly with either the walls or the front counter. Black marks from the chairs being repeatedly scootched about the floor, moved from one table to another to accommodate uneven party numbers. Seven steps later I'm behind the counter, and am flicking on the various hot beverage machines, putting money for change inside the register, and turning on the stereo, as soft, romantic jazz floods Coffee.

Feeling an uneasy sensation fire down my spine, I look up, and simultaneously, the bell loosely tied to the door rings. To my excitement and relief, my co-worker, Marcy walks in. At the threshold she stops, her shoulder-length red hair unpredictably buffeted around her face, and our eyes lock.

The doorbell rings, and I can see her standing at the threshold again, Marcy's warm eyes shimmering with moisture while she sniffles out a timid request to come inside

I look back and I realize I shouldn't have.

Her hand grabbing mine firmly, I can feel her tongue probing inside my mouth, experimenting with the taste, the sensation. I can taste coffee on her breath. It's soothing.

I regret my rash choice. No good will come of what I have done.

On the table next to us, my phone is angrily buzzing, as if trying to dissuade our current course of actions. She cries out my name as I slowly enter her for the first time, and I can feel her hands sliding down my back and through my hair. A second time my phone vibrates, but this time, there is a certain desperation to it's cry. Just for a moment my eyes shift over.

Cloe.

For a moment, we stand, seven paces between us, and I utter a feeble greeting toward her. The gaze we share, wavers, and then in silence nods toward me. This is not the same girl that stood crying on my doorstep last night. In an act of guilt, I look down toward the staff book we have below the counter, and start penciling in dates for people to work, my thoughts underwhelmed by the mundane nature of this task. I can hear Marcy humming along with some sensual bassline over the cheap speakers as she sweeps, her stare locked with the floor, as if fixated by dust.

Years of quiet conversation later, a customer finally walks in. A young college student with white running shoes and a green t-shirt, emblazoned with a sports logo. I forget what he asked for as I make it in the disposable cup. He quickly thanks me as he drops a nickle in the tip jar and spins on his heels to walk out the door. He nods at Marcy and reflexively, she smiles at him.

She begins sobbing on the sofa when I tell her I'll be there for her. She's heard that from me before, uttered in the exact same way. This is different.

"D... Does Chloe know yet?" I hear a timid voice come from the corner. Her hands are folded in front of her in a gesture of genuine fear.
"No. She doesn't... and Marcy, I've been mulling it over. I... we made a mistake. I think it would be for the best if we could recognize that, and do what we can to forget." I suddenly become overly conscious of every motion. I swallow as the hollow words come from my lips, and blink, trying to make myself appear resolve in front of my friend.
"I was hoping you'd say that. About it all though, I'm sorry." She takes a single step towards me.

*PROJECT ALERT*

I am working on a new story. It is time consuming
That is all.

10 Lessons

An idea from a friend, ten lessons I've learned in life... let's see...

1. The customer is not always right. In fact, they are wrong more often than not.

2. Using your voice is good for you. Reading, singing, mumbling to yourself is the best therapy in the world.

3. Don't read too deeply into compliments. Somebody is just trying to say something nice, and may not know how to word it perfectly

4. Complaining is a waste of time.

5. Magic is real. Anyone who tells you otherwise is dead inside.

6. Expressing yourself is healthy

7. Odds are, you are incorrect. Unless disproved directly though, assume you are not.

8. Not my quote, but still applicable- "Unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot, nothing is going to get better. It's not."

9. Kissing is awesome

10. Taking the frivolous things seriously, and the important things lightly is a hard, but rewarding outlook on life.

What Makes a Man?

In three months from yesterday, I will be an adult.

I am not ready to be one of them yet.

People will look at me and say, "Look a grown-up who hasn't grown-up yet. Just another boy caught in a man's body."

What makes a man? What can differentiate me from the child that I'm little more than? Age? Sex? Money? Wisdom? Understanding his world? Guiding others to the truths you think you know? Accomplishing yourself, making a name?

What is a grown up?

What am I?

All those houses the built in the nineties finally fall.

So can you understand why I want a daughter while I'm still young? I wanna hold her hand, show her some beauty before all this damage is done.

*UPDATE*

Sorry about the absence (to my four readers). Some bad stuff happened, so I did my best to fix it. Didn't work exactly, forced to cut losses, all that reality jazz. Just gotta pick on or the other, right?
Neighbor's house burned down, so now the eight of them, plus the six of us are living under one roof. Crazy, suffice it to say. It's good to help out however I can though, even if that means giving up my bedroom, and suffering from horrible sleep... as in, worse that usual. Whatever. I'll get over it.
I'm part of a vlogging group, "The Kaleidoscope Vloggers". It's pretty fun, but still needs more structure. I can see it becoming something really fantastic and enjoyable though.
Am in a new semester of school, which is all well and good. New classes, new faces (sort of, anyways), fun stuff.

Aaaand.... that's about all, I think. I will make more of an effort to write more in the near future
Until then!

Where does the good go?

What happened? I thought that I was a happy person, the type of guy who could take a blow and keep on walking without making a big deal out of it. I mean, I have four little siblings who look up to me, a job where my boss thinks highly of me, parents who have faith in me and what I'm capable of, but what about me?

Aren't I supposed to be able to do this?

I don't know... I just feel like I can't quite get back on my feet no matter what I try. Like maybe the melancholy is at some sort of horrible equilibrium with me. Why can't I get back up? Why does it keep getting the upper hand on me?

Picture is unrelated

Where did my words go?
Words? Where are you?
I'm not good at very many things. I kinda need you guys...
Gah. Maybe tomorrow or something

Sing to me

Sing to me. I need a new voice, new key, a new melody. Give me notes I didn't know could exist, a rhythm that I can really feel, not just anything shiny and new, but something truly extraordinary.
Tell me stories of friendship, of broken hearts, of winters, of lust and of children growing up in a world that's colder than any of them really imagined.
Sing it soft and sweet, angry and with fury, or under your breath with invisible lips.

Just let me hear your voice, let me lose myself in the sound, just once more.

The Big Picture

An interesting point of view on an age-old dilemma- What is the real place of the man in the modern world?

Playlist

I am trying a project. We will see how long it lasts- I want to make weekly playlists based on suggestions from the people around me, including (though not limited to the people on this blog.) The idea behind this project is simply expanding my own knowledge and understanding of music, while giving me something constructive to do.

My first playlist is this, the (so aptly titled) 2011 debut playlist. It contains the following
1. A song from 2010 you love
2. A song everyone on 8tracks should hear
3. A song that reminds you of high school
4. A song from the year you were born
5. A song from a band you LOVE
6. A song you can sing along to
7. A song about your city / state
8. A top 40 song you hate to admit you like

Now, I've asked this once before (and it elicited no results...) but I ask every single one of you any playlist suggestion at all. The whole point of this project is not using my own ideas for playlists, but somebody else's thoughts.

Base it on a mood, or an idea, or a genre, whatever. Just any playlist thought at all, and I'll do the rest, in an 8 to 10 track mix of fury.

My account is http://www.8tracks.com/christhe1der

Boooooooooooooooks

Yo- Looking for good books, preferably fiction, preferably not something that raises more than 2 of my white flags

WHITE FLAGS
- Can be found in the "Teen Literature" section in a bookstore
- Written by a religious author
- The same concept has been done before
- A sequel to anything*
- An embarrassing cover art**
- "Historical" Fiction


*Exception if I read/liked the prequel
**Exception if I can find on the Sony Reader store

Any suggestions are welcome at all
Thank you

2700

Life can hurt sometimes. It knocks you down, and stands there chuckling while it watches you, cut and bruised trying to get back on your feet for one more punch.
However, as all good boxers know, it isn't over until it's over. I can't give up. I won't give up. I feel broken and confused, but I'm still staggering on into the next round. All the pain and the sounds of the crowd screaming my name... or maybe my opponent's (I can't tell at this point) aside, there's one thing that isn't impaired- my vision. The goal is still clear, the means are getting clearer, and the past is even more beautiful now than ever before.

I've got this... and my tricky right hook, the only thing I have left to deliver comes with the letters H-O-P-E emblazoned across the knuckles.