Happenings

Oi, all this week I've had literally hundreds of thoughts, every single one of them perfect for writing down. And now I can't remember shit. Fuck.

Well, we're about ready to move into the house. All the drywall and siding is up. The walls and floors are clean upstairs, so me and my sister have moved a couple things up there. Last night I put her bookshelf in her room, and this afternoon I moved the computer desk up into the office, along with our printer and monitor. Sometime later (or tomorrow) I'm going to see if one of our old computers still works. That way we could have a cheapo computer in the office and still have our laptop (whenever we get it fixed) wherever we want it. My dad just finished yesterday putting all the wood flooring down in the kitchen, which is awesome, because now we can move the cabinets and appliances from the trailer into the house. We also got the tile put in in the master bathroom, on the floor and in the shower. So now we need to put a sink and toilet in there, and we're good to go. We're so close, haha. If everything goes according to plan, we'll most likely move in this weekend.

I've been helping our electrician lately with pulling wire and hooking up lights and switches and the likes. It's been fun, but he likes to pretend to be hard on me. It gets a little old after a while. It's also hard to work all day listening to fucking Rush Limbaugh the whole time. But it is nice to see a house that's been in the dark for the past six years be lit up partially because of your work.

Anyway, I'm so damn excited to move into the house. We'll still have a lot of work to do on it, but at least we'll be in it. I'd love to live in a room that's bigger than a closet.

I almost passed out in the shower last night. Well, not passed out. I almost collapsed. I tend to relax in the shower because it's the only place where I can escape from my family without interruptions. Lately I've just been sitting there doing nothing (I used to sit under the water and think and come up with solutions to some of my problems). Well, last night, I didn't come up with any solutions. But I did get thinking. My life is literally going nowhere right now. Although now that I think of it, how can you go nowhere? Time is in continuous motion, so even if I'm doing nothing at all, I'm still making my way towards my future. Bah, anyway, I digress.

I feel like I'm not doing what I should be with my life. But how much can I really do, also? Either way, I've been depressed for the last few months and I never fully realized it. And it isn't getting any easier. Ever since Brandon and Carolyn stopped talking to me, I've been feeling more alone than ever. I mean, at least when I had them as friends I had someone to talk to and vent. But now I don't even have that, and it's like it's slowly driving me insane. I keep all these thoughts and emotions bogged up in my head, and all they do is swirl around endlessly. I can't even masturbate anymore without feeling lonely and wanting someone's body next to mine to touch after I finish.

I have a few friends online, of course. And I love them all to tid bits. But it's still hard when someone's not there in person or on the phone to actually see or hear the emotion in your voice.

I believe I've lost Laura as a friend, as well. Not that we had a real strong friendship lately, anyway. She started partying with people and smoking and drinking immediately after her schoolyear was over. I'm not totally against people who do any of those things. And I can totally deal with it if it was in moderation. But it wasn't (and isn't, as far as I know; I haven't spoken to her in almost a week).

I was putting up a front of being okay with it, but one night we were on the phone and she said she should stop before it gets worse. I replied honestly, "Yeah, you should." Then she said, "What would you do if I didn't stop but then later on I came to you when it became a real problem and asked for your help?" Again, honestly, I replied, "I wouldn't give it to you." She was astounded, and I can see why she would be, I really can. But I'm kind of tired of pretending to be okay with everything people do, when it really hurts me. And this kind of pushed me to the edge. I don't agree with her doing any of those things, it's not who she is at all.

Then again, maybe it is who she is. But I still don't approve of it, and I'm not going to contribute to her throwing her life away. If she wants help now, I'm here to gi ve it. But if she ignores the seriousness of the situation and ignores my wanting her to stop, then I'll be ignoring her plea for help later on. I'll always be there for her, of course, for anything else. Just not this.

And that's why she hasn't called me for almost a week. Everytime the phone rings I say, "If it's for me, I can't talk." I didn't want to talk to her. But now I'm prepared to talk to her; obviously if she's calling, she wants to talk. So I'm going to be there.

I tell you what, though, I'm not going to be calling her apologizing. I'm over doing that shit.

Oh, and one last night before I go: I'm considering joining one of the military services. It's a slim chance, but I'm still considering it. Ironically, I got a notice from Selective Services on Memorial Day asking to update any of my information if need be. Baha.

I got the idea from our electrician, the right-wing extremist, and he honestly makes good points. But I also have to keep in mind that I'm taking suggestions from a man who actually takes every word Rush Limbaugh says seriously.

Shaved

My hair has been getting really long lately. Well, not super long, but long enough that most of the time it makes me look retarded. Usually when my hair gets to where I wanna cut it, I just take our clippers and give myself a buzz cut. But our clippers are broken. My mom said she'd cut it for me, but she never did. Got too late in the day for her, I guess. So I figured I'd just do it myself. How hard could it be?

First, let me explain why I wanted it cut, why I couldn't wait for us to just get a new pair of clippers. Every Monday (or as often as we can), my mom, sister, and I go to the Boys and Girls Club to volunteer. I didn't wanna go in looking like a retard. Hence the getting my hair down to a decent length before today.

So at 1am, after everyone went to bed, I began cutting. I figured I'd just run my fingers through my hair and just snip off what went above my fingers. Not too hard for the top of my head; much more difficult for the sides and back. After some deliberating of about 3 minutes, I decided I'd just shave my head. It was a long process. I snipped off as much hair as I could with the scissors, then started shaving it off with a razor. Fuck, it's hard. I had to keep cleaning out the blades 'cause my hair was still too long for them. Finally after about 30 minutes of that, I decided I'd just get in the damn shower and do it, and I'm glad I did. It was a little hard because I didn't have a mirror (other than a really small one) or shaving cream. But I just shampooed my hair, shaved blindly until no more hair came out, and then rinsed my hair. I spent about another 30 minutes in the shower. I didn't do such a bad job, but I still had some hair left when I got out. I cleaned up the bathroom as best I could without waking anyone up, then got the rest of my head. Then I put some lotion on my head (haha, it sounds so silly), and went to bed. All in all it took me two hours to do.

My dad woke me up this morning at about 7:45 to help take the remaining four dogs outside, and when I walked into the living room he looked at me for a couple seconds, then said, "What?!" hahaha. My mom's reaction was about the same when I woke up later (I went back to bed after we were done with the dogs).

It feels so strange. My sister said earlier, "I hope you're not keeping it like that, because you don't look good with no hair." Which, y'know, really did help with my self-esteem. But I still prefer looking bald than having shitty hair.

Nonetheless, I will still wear a cap most everywhere because of how I feel about it, if not because it makes me cold, bahaha.

Capillary

What is religion? Deep down? I thought of this question yesterday afternoon. I remembered a line from one of my favorite movies, V For Vendetta. One of the characters, Gordon, says to Evey (and I'm paraphrasing here): "Do I have to be Muslim to enjoy the poetry of the Qur'an?"

I never really thought about it in any kind of depth until yesterday. What is religion, really? What is almost every religion based around? Some kind of scripture. It all originates from some kind of written text that defines the religion, including its god. But do people really believe in the story, or do they find a meaning behind the story? Without a doubt some scripture is meant to have a hidden meaning, and it's just as true that some people believe in the upfront story.

I don't claim to be any kind of religious scholar, or anything like that. And I hate getting into religion-based arguments with people, because it is absolutely pointless. People are firm with their beliefs, and the more you try to point out their 'wrong' from your point of view, the more they cling to what the believe in.

I do claim, however, to be a Christian. But here's the thing: I don't necessarily follow the Bible. In fact, I don't follow the Bible at all. I've read it, I understand it, but when it comes down to it I follow my own beliefs: To be understanding of people; to forgive; to help where I'm needed; to stay in the background when I'm not; to appreciate the fact that there is beauty in everything. I don't need the Bible to create these cornerstones of my character. I use the Bible as a ways of reminding me that those traits are good and helpful. I could not be the way I am simply because I'm a Christian and the Bible says so. I need to personally believe in those things first: everything else comes after. The Bible to me is simply a book of poetry that simply exhibits what the world is made of, and it reaffirms my beliefs.

It's funny that I didn't even realize that until yesterday. I always figured it was just a book that was a mainstay of Christianity and Catholicism for some unknown reason: it just was.

As it applies to God, I think I lie with the rest of the people who believe in Him (or any other god) and see Him as a point of steadiness. But I don't involve God in my everyday life. After all, He gave us free will if we are to believe the Bible. And I choose to believe that I am in control of my day-to-day life. If I need help with something and have no one to go to, it's comforting to know that I can just close my eyes and think a message to an unknown higher power. I may not always have a firm faith in any of Christianity, including God, though.

It seems to me that every religion is simply a capillary to something greater--an enriched life, as it were.

Goodbye

Sadness has filled my heart these last few days. Brandon and I are no longer friends (apparently I'm to dead to him, says him). I was getting over it. But then I watched the series finale of Scrubs. It was incredibly sad. It seems so silly, since it's just a television show. But it actually feels like you've lost someone you loved.

I'm really not in the mood to write, so this is a short post. But yeah.

I've said goodbye to two things that were big in my life this week. Woo, haha.

Conglomerate

I haven't been online in a shitload of time. Lots has happened. I got my wisdom teeth taken out last Wednesday. Since then I've been knocked up on painkillers most of the time, which is awesome. Some shit happened between Brandon, Carolyn, and I, also. I don't really feel like talking about any of what's happened recently, though. However, I wrote a letter to a friend, and the way I wrote is in the style of blogging, so I'm just going to copy those few things from the letter into here.

18 April 2009
I've just gotten off the phone with Laura. Okay, not just now. I lied in my bed for a few minutes, wondering what to do. Call Carolyn? Nah, I wanted Brandon on the phone, too. But I knew he'd most likely be unable to talk at that time in the day. So I went into the living room to continue watching a movie with mom, dad, and Mariah. Even if I couldn't talk to them, at least I wasn't left alone to my thoughts. But I decided I did need to think. So I hopped in the shower: my only undisturbed haven in my house.

Anyway, Laura. She called--drunk. She said she was buzzed, but I knew better. 6 minutes we talked. Seems longer, all things considered. First of all, Laura doesn't drink. It was a surprise, to say the least. Laura, the straight-laced, workaholic, emotionally fickle girl. Ah, but I just reasoned her drunkenness, didn't I? I don't like talking to people who aren't sober. I certainly have no room to talk, though. In a month I plan to get shitfaced drunk with Brandon and Carolyn. But then, I'm a little more carefree and responsible when it comes to that. Contradictory adjectives, I know. But I digress.

You know why she called me? To tell me she had her first kiss. Jealousy consumed me. But why? Was I jealous that I wasn't the guy, or because even Laura seems to be able to 'get some action', as it were? It was a little bit of both, I think. No, I know. But I think what's maddened me the most is the simple fact that she called. It angered me that she called me, drunk as a leprechaun, purely to tell me she kissed a guy. That was all, which is why it was only a 6 minute call. Because she 'felt' she had to tell me. Why does she feel compelled to 'confess' such things? And why do I accept it with politeness and understanding? When asked if she could call me later, I answered with a casual 'sure,' even though in my head I screamed, "No, you selfish bitch. You can call me when you can reasonably decide what to tell me and what to keep to yourself!" WHy didn't I just say, "No, call me when you're sober."? Perhaps when she calls back, I will. If she can get through. It's likely I'll be on the phone with Brandon and Carolyn by then.


19 April 2009
It's been quite a birthday. It had been going alright at first. When Brandon, Carolyn, and I were on the phone last night, Carolyn said Happy Birthday just after midnight, followed by Brandon singing 'Happy Birthday' to me. It was sweet, and I smiled. They called again earlier this afternoon to say it again, I guess 'cause it was a bit more proper in the daytime. xD Laura had called a bit before them, but I told my dad (who had answered the phone) to say I was unavailable; I still wasn't in the mood to talk to her. Afterwards, I went outside to enjoy some nice Spring weather. I suppose it coul be described as pleasant English weaither: mostly cloudy, but the clouds were illuminated with the sun, creating this fantastic and beautiful battle b etween gray skies and golden skies. Not only that, but there was a slight breeze, with the electricity in the air which you only feel prior to Smmer showers, with the soft, sweet scent of rain hanging in the air. It was, perhaps, one of the most beautiful things I've experienced. It easily and automatically took me back to the happiest moments of my childhood--those moments in which you not only remember the memories, but you can refeel your emotions from that moment in your life. Simply amazing. I was just describing to Brandon last night how it feels when I listen to Third Eye Blind. We're both in love with the band, for the same reason: it takes us back to our happiest times. For me, it was lying on the bottom bunk in mine and my brother's room in Herndon late at night. Before we had to file for bankruptcy. Before the bank almost foreclosed our house and we were forced to move out of the place which had been our home for all our lives, with the exception of my parents. My bottom bunk was near the window. In the Spring and Summer, we'd leave it open for fresh air. My brother had a stereo, and one of the speakers was beneath the window, next to the bed. As I was laying there, I vividly remember a cool breeze carrying a sweet scent, which found itself gently brushing against my face while "Motorcycle Drive By" was playing. It was one of the happiest moments of my life.

24 April 2009
I've been thinking of getting another tattoo. I was adamant about it, but now I'm not so sure. I've been thinking that maybe I could put the money towards a PS3. It'd certainly be just as worthy an investment, if not more. And I can get a tattoo later in life just as well. Who knows if mom will let me take any money out of my savings, though. I do plan on trying to re-sell my R/C helicopter, so that'd be about $100. Best case scenario, I'd have $215 to spend. That leaves $185 from savings if I were to get a brand new PS3 for $400. I'd like a new one. But the new models don't play PS2 discs, to cut down on productions costs. I would really like to be able to play my PS2 games. PErhaps I could find someone who's selling a new, older model. Brandon said I wouldn't find any PS3 for less than $200. I think that's a bit optimistic; I'd say no less than $330 or so. I guess I'll see, though, next time I go to the library.

25 April 2009
It's hot, today. Being inside a trailer that's surrounded with metal siding, wem ight as well be in an oven. I figured the two dogs we have inside today (Rufus and Zoe) must be burning up, so I've just taken them out for a 10-minute walk each. I started at 7:36PM. The sun was (and still is) setting behind the large hill in the back of our house. It seemed to light up the lower sky with a golden glow that peeked out from behind each tree that stood in its front. It have the illision that just over the hill there was a large green valley that was overflowing with the golden illuminant. It was the strangest thing, but I'm not complaining. There was also a slight breeze which differed from hot to cool. This kind of weather and scenery seems to cause me to drudge up old memories. Happy memories, but old ones--in most cases, anyway. The exception would be the summer Jenn and I were together. Firstly, I do not miss her. I do not miss what we had. I only miss what we did. As for this heat, breeze, and sunset, it makes me recall with vivid clarity the evenings in which we both clung to each other in the sweltering heart for the last few moments we had together before it was time for one of us to go home. The breeze in particular reminds me of when I would wait for her to arrive, myself laying on the hammock. Once she did get there, we would both lie back, clasp hands, swing, and talk about our day.

Of old memories, I can retrieve a conglomerate. Watching fire works late at night from our front yard, sitting in the cold grass; playing hide 'n' seek with all the neighborhood kids at 10 at night; finishing and coming home from a late Wednesday night swim meet. It's funny how I never cherished those moments as much as I should have. If I could, I would go back to any one of them right this second if given the chance.

Of late I've been craving what I had with Jenn. But it strangely doesn't phase me. It's been so long since I've had a physical, mutual, and loving relationship that when I imagine myself in one again, it's in the distant future.

I do not know why I seem to be recalling past memories so much, lately. Perhaps I've always been like this and I'm just beginning to notice. Or maybe as I draw nearer to adulthood, I am retracing my steps to this life I have now. Whatever it is, it often brings me down, causing me to feel pathetic; in effect, moreso ultradramatic.

But I believe I know why I seem to remember odd yet familiar memories at the slightest touch of an emotion. I don't know whether I was subconsciously adapting to my ADHD, or if it's my empathy. Maybe it's just how everyone remembers certain things. For whatever reason, I remember memories by memorizing my feelings and emotions at those exact instances. Maybe I should look it up, hm.

I don't know why I am writing this all. When it comes to things like this, I usually prefer talking to someone in real time. I find myself unable to discuss any of this with Brandon and Carolyn, though. It's not that I don't trust them. It's that I know I will fail to put any of this into adequate words which would explain it all. Especially not in a way that would keep them concerned, much less interested. I've never been much of an orator. Always a listener (and halfway decent writer! xP).

I've just realized two things. I'll start with the more important one. But first some short explaining.

Laura us, I believe, dating the guy she kissed. His name is Brandon, ironically. She called earlier and I asked what was up, to which she replied, "Nothing, just left Brandon's." I knew then where my jealousy stems from: Laura. Not Brandon. Mm, actually, I am a little jealous of him, but not so much as I am of her. I am so damn envious of her having someone to fall back on like that. To have someone all her own that she can physically touch. I'm fucking tired of being alone, to be blunt. Tired of being told that 'my turn will come'. Tired of waiting for something to happen. I am not so ignoranrt or naieve to feel that this is all not my own doing; that if I got off my as and fixed it, I could help myself. And I do indeed accept full responsibility. It's just that this all geta a little old after a while, y'know? I'm eager to care for someone. Hell, I spent 30 minutes yesterday elaborating on a smiley face I drew for Carolyn. In the end the face was hiding in the sun-soaked, rolling green hills. And I don't even care for Carolyn in a way more than a close friend. I just wanted to do something special for someone so they felt like they were cared for. I suppose that's the second thing I realized.

It's all so silly, isn't it? Anyone who reads this and doesn't know me owould say this is all teen angst. Oh God, is it?