my teeth feel funny.

i need to pick a song.

i can't wait for this semester to be over.

i can't wait to be done with school...

"pardon me,
while i burst into flames.
i've had enough of the world,
and it's peoples mindless games..."

it was kinda an outburst.
well, less of an outburst,
more of a "this is the first response that popped into my head, so this is what i'm saying."
no, it's not fair.
i'm sorry.

memories can be forgotten with time,
scars, especially the deep ones, force you to remember,
forever.
i'm not trying to make you feel guilty,
or have it seem as though i was hurt anymore than you were,
i never was,
i just want you to understand where i'm coming from.

do you see it?
do you like it?
do you want some more?
no, didn't think so.
don't feel bad,
most people don't even get so deep.

and upon confirmation,
this marks the millionth occasion in which someone else just did it better.
i'm over it.
i'm tired of it.
i'm putting it to bed.

"pardon me,
while i burn to rise above the flames.
pardon me, pardon me,
i'll never be the same..."

i'm having a crisis.
i haven't really read a book since the second grade.
i'm a rebellious artist.
where did my intellectual aspirations go?
where did my sport star dreams end up?
why does the similar length of those lines freak me out?
how did i end up this way?
it wasn't my parents, i don't think.
where do i go from here?
"becoming an artist..." sounds like a good title,
maybe i'll use it.
my stomach hurts.
just decided that this is some sort of 'stream of consciousness,'
it's the only way i can explain it.
my house is full of people and i'm sitting on the computer,
but i'm not anti-social.
i've talked to people and if they talked to me now i'd stop and respond.
i have to go to work in an hour.
i've had far too much caffeine today.
this is a pinnacle moment in my prolonged quarter-life crisis;
finding my place in the cosmos.
i BSed my way through school,
a testament to both my "cleverness over intellect" mind and the American educational system.
Marc just called, forgot my place.
i have no clue what a Professional Communication major even does.
what the fuck am i gonna do with my life?
who cares?
god damn you, "Mr. magorium's wonder emporium!"
i am mocked by a picture of a younger me.
well, maybe not mocked,
but definitely observed.
i don't want to go to work.
my eyes hurt.
a teacher from my high school is plastered at my house right now.
well, she might not be plastered, but she's definitely had a few.
she's not driving.
it's not really that weird, she married my cousin,
but it's still kinda weird.
i'm on the computer and the house is full of people,
buzzed people,
talking very loudly.
this has been a record of my thoughts over the noise,
or has it been record of the noise over my thoughts?
what i wouldn't give for some clarity...

i've grown to enjoy tuesdays;
something which i've never done before.
tuesdays have always been my least favorite day of the week,
and i still grunt when i think of the long days i have at school every tuesday because it is kinda exhausting,
but lately it hasn't been so bad.
since my laptop has been broken,
i've been forced to hang out in the computer lab.
it's come to be my "internet day,"
my "blog day."
i know, it sounds nerdy,
and it is,
but it's the truth and i enjoy it.
it gives me time to sit quietly and collect my thoughts,
time to recap on the week's events.

in addition, i always go home after voice singing,
which is always a good time.
i do love to sing.

i like reading other people's blogs.
people intrigue me.
i don't like the lame commercial blogs that are meant to have some sort of point though.
those blogs just bug me because they are totally one-sided,
setting all ideas and feelings in one direction.
they just don't seem honest.
i like the ones that random people write,
about nothing but their everyday lives.
those are the best ones.
one can really learn something about a person,
you learn to sympathize with that person,
and people in general.

i think i hit the "return" button too hard;
i surprise myself every time.
note to self:
stop hitting "return" button so damn hard.

anyways,
with a lack of theme,
this entry is spent.
on to tuesday voice class...

i love music.
it'd be nice to make a career out of it,
but the truth is that it probably won't happen.
not because i'm not determined,
i plan on trying despite the odds,
but rather because people play music for their whole lives and don't get anywhere,
and they're better than me.
i love music.
i need it.
i'll never stop playing.
a career doesn't matter to me.
i would love to be able to play music exclusively,
but it wouldn't be so bad if things didn't workout that way.
i'll always have my music,
it'll never leave me...

daniel johnston - "silly love"

i've come this far and i know i can make it.
i've got a broken heart and you can't break a broken heart.
i come knocking at your door,
you don't love me anymore,
but i just can't give up,
'cause i don't know what to do about it.

you must be wrong if you think you don't love me.
you could smile down on and put a happy ending to my song.
i come knocking at your door,
you don't live there anymore.
is it just a memory,
or am i a little crazy for you?

if there's no love, i just can't believe it.
i've got a broken mind and only you can relieve it.
i don't remember who you are.
are you someone that i saw?
'cause i really am confused,
but i think that i still love you.

i just determined the best way to describe how doomed to loneliness i am:

i'm "a keeper," that doesn't get kept.

i'm dysfunctional like a misfit toy;
i can get 'em to love me,
everyone says i'm a catch and "a keeper,"
but when it comes down to it,
i just can't keep 'em around.

i'm a misfit boy,
trapped on a forgotten island,
and santa won't find someone to love me...

"if i were the keys, then where would i be?
if it's up to me, then i would be free."

i've said it before,
and i'll say it again:
i hate schedules.
i hate planning.

everything is so set right now,
it makes me ill.

class at this time,
work at that time.
this paper due today,
this test tomorrow.
uh-oh, if that test is tomorrow,
then time must be arranged before then to study.
that means that this errand will have to wait until three days from now.... blah-blah-blah-blah-bullshit.
and we're back to my never ending theme:
freedom, or my lack thereof.

what do i want?
i want to live on my own terms,
entirely my own terms.
life should not be scheduled.

"life is what happens while we're making plans."

sure, i could just do what i want.
i could follow my heart and pursue a life of freedom,
but there are so many people that depend on me,
so many people with such high hopes for me.

and they'll say,
"what a shame. the boy had such.......potential."

when you're young,
your parents tell you that you can be anything you want when you grow up.
well, what if you just want to be you?
without any purpose or restrictions,
i just want to be me...

today, pat and i wrote a song,
it sounds incredible and the lyrics are pretty relevant as of late.
it only seems appropriate that they be posted considering its title.
here goes nothing:

The Words Unspoken

I'm done dying to know,

What's going on in you head.

Holy hedonist, just want to live a bit,

On my own.

Experience pleasures --

Leave memories to the diaries and blogs.

Or, better yet,

Just straight forget about you;

Pack my brains up and move on.

I'm such a catch,

You're such a wreck.

I'm gaining ground,

You're closing up your stride.

If you really married him,

It would be a sin,

As the boredom would swallow you whole,

Then heave you straight into suicide.

Don't let your shame get the best of you, anymore.

You'd never sold out your friends before.

You know we're much more,

Then what we're pretending,

'Cause we understand each other;

All our idiosyncrasies.

Keep your pants on,

Your secrets are safe with me.

Or take them off,

And I'll love you holistically,

Against your values,

But change is among us,

And now is the time to act.

You know I love you,

But I just can't stand it,

That you'd love a man like that.

You know we're much more...