Blibber Blabber June 3, 2011 at 5:48 pm

I always promise a bombardment of posts and then nothing happens. This site sits here… and sits here… and then a month later determination smacks me in the face and I finally write something. The problem isn’t that I have nothing to write about. In fact, it’s the complete opposite. I have too much to write about. The ideas are constantly swirling around in my head and when I sit down and try to put them all down on paper, I only end up doodling for a while or I end up aimlessly surfing the internet. By the time I finally get bored, I realize I’ve accomplished nothing and become so frustrated with myself that writing becomes an even bigger impossibility. This wouldn’t be too big of a problem if it didn’t happen so often but it does happen often and the more it happens, the less I write.

A lot of people might be thinking it’s not such a big deal. First of all, how many people really read this stuff anyways? Second, how many people really enjoy writing? The thing is that I do enjoy writing. I enjoy it a lot. And I notice that the less I write, the more my emotions seem to build up inside of me. Going a long time without writing is like a crackhead going a long time without crack; when the withdrawal hits hard, the crackhead and I both become extremely volatile. We foam at the mouth. We have paranoid anxiety attacks. We begin to feel a lot like we are going to explode and the physical evidence of this is seen in the way we begin to scratch a lot at our bodies or twitch or tug at the ends of our hair. Writing is my cocaine and going cold turkey too long and too frequently leaves me feeling crazy. (For the record, I’ve never done cocaine and what I know of crackheads is what I’ve seen in movies or read in books or from personal friendships.)

Obviously the easiest fix to this mess is to just WRITE (or in the crackhead world… just do more crack). But writing is never as easy as it sounds. Have you ever spun around and around in circles and then stopped and tried to focus? All you see are colored blobs and shapes and nothing seems to stop moving for a second or look right. That’s kind of what it’s like in my brain. You think, oh I’ll spin around and then I’ll stop and everything will be fine and I’ll make the world alright. Only it doesn’t work like that and it never will. And I sit down and I think, oh I’ll focus on one idea and I’ll finally write and release a little bit of what I’m feeling inside and I’ll make the world alright. But it doesn’t work like that for me either. I sit down and stare and doodle and surf the internet and nothing gets done and the withdrawal drags itself out more and more and more. And the biggest problem with this withdrawal is that it doesn’t get better. A crackhead may tell you that eventually stopping himself from doing crack is easy. He’s lying to you. From what I know of people who do drugs or were alcoholics or anything of that sort, it is never easy. One day you might wake up and think, this is the day where it’s going to be easy. But you pass somebody in the street smoking crack and suddenly it’s all too familiar and the urge is back again and the desire to join in overwhelms you. And that’s the way I feel. The longer I don’t write, the more I want to write… but the less I am able to do it. I start writing random words on pieces of paper just to see if it will somehow help the madness going on inside of me. I think one of these days that random word is going to spark a whole novel and I will finally feel at peace. But it never does and the random words are only a one-second fix until I finally lose it and I sit down and force my fingers to type out a bunch of nonsense that looks a lot like this.

I got on here to blog about something else and this is what came out instead. My first sentence is not even relatively close to the sentence I meant to type out. They never are. My writing is never planned. No matter what idea I may have, I sit down and something else comes out.

But on the bright side… at least I wrote something.

On Love May 28, 2011 at 1:48 pm

I would be the first person to admit that maybe I don’t know much about love. I don’t think I’ve ever been in love. There were a few times I thought I was. After all, I put up with things that I never thought I would put up with. And I’ve been told that when you’re in love, you do things you don’t want to do simply because you want to work stuff out with the other person. I dated a guy one time that ended up spending our high school fall break in Mesa with his ex-girlfriend. He promised me that there was nothing between them anymore and they were simply really good friends and like the idiot I was, I believed him. He also promised he would call me every day of the week. He never did. Not once. When he came back and I finally got to see him, he told me he was still in love with his ex-girlfriend but that he wanted to be with me. I stayed with him for a week more until reality kicked me in the face and I dumped him. I thought I loved that boy. Then again… I was only fourteen. And when he got back together with his ex-girlfriend, their relationship didn’t last very long, which anyone could have predicted. I dated another guy who was secretly writing love letters to another girl behind my back and though I knew about it, I kept working at the relationship for some reason. I’ve dated several guys who had no respect for me and one guy who had no respect for my time; he said he would pick me up after school and left me standing there for two hours. And when I had walked home, he finally called me and asked why I wasn’t at the school. I didn’t even explain myself to him. I simply hung up. This complete disregard of my time turned out to be a frequent occurrence. I dealt with it because I thought it was a quirk of his but after a year and two months, I couldn’t handle him anymore and left him for good. My most recent ex-boyfriend loved his motorcycle more than me. He had this habit of telling me he had no money to drive out and come see me but then would somehow end up eating at tons of fast food places and going out bowling or to the movies or things of that sort. When I would call him out on it, he had no excuses. I gave up after a month.

This is probably a good time to mention that I’m only nineteen. There are plenty of years left in my life (hopefully) to find someone to fall in love with and all of that jazz. I’ve noticed that with people my age, however, there is a negative outlook attached to love. A lot of guys and girls have simply stopped believing that there is someone out there who will make them happy or who they think they will fall in love with. There was a period of time where I was one of those people and I was dead set on being single forever. But I slowly began to look at the things and people around me and see that it was possible and that there are several different kinds of love. When you start to really look at the world, you realize love is such a broad term. I love my friends, after all. A lot. When they need me, I am there for them. I listen to their problems and help them out and tell them I think they’re beautiful and wonderful and do my best to make them feel good about themselves. I never end a phone call with them without saying, “I love you.” I also love my animals. There’s something thrilling about walking downstairs to see my dog roll over and start wagging her tail when she sees me or waking up and discovering one of my cats has been sleeping with me all night. I love my siblings to death. I love my mom and my dad and my relatives. I love lactose-free milk and sunflowers and video games and comedies and waking up in the morning half-off my bed because that’s the way I like to sleep. And I think that’s where people fail to look at the idea of love. They think it’s about being in a relationship with a person and falling all over themselves for that person when really love can be about so many things. I’m sure it’s nice to be with somebody who makes you happy and who you can always count on being there for you no matter how many fights you’ve been in or how many disagreements you’ve had or anything of that sort. But when you don’t have that person and you’re just living your own life, there are so many other things you can feel love from. You don’t need someone to make you happy. You only need yourself and the ability to accept love in all forms. And I think that is truly where people get lost. They focus too much on the modern idea of what love is and less on what love can be.

I am still going to admit that I don’t know much about love… but I think I know a lot about the kinds of love other people forget about. I am capable of loving so many things and aware of the fact that a lot of people and animals love me and I’m starting to think that’s what counts. I’ve learned a lot about the modern idea of love too from watching other people in relationships and I think when it comes down to it and I do fall in love, I’ll know how to handle it and I’ll keep it safe and secure. In the mean time, however, I’ll stick with loving the small things and appreciating the kinds of love I do have in my life.

Summer Break Is Coming. May 8, 2011 at 6:08 pm

This means I will have a lot of time on my hands. I am going to blow up this website with posts. You better be prepared.

First One! April 24, 2011 at 10:41 pm

I just barely started teaching myself guitar. I wrote this song myself. It’s my first one. I already know it sucks. Hahaha. Fun stuff, right? Anyways. I don’t know why it blacks out at the end there and by the time I was done recording I didn’t care why. The visual doesn’t even matter. Anyways. I recorded this for my friend Graysea because she wanted me to a long time ago and even though I’m not a big fan of it, I did it for her. Haha. Enjoy?

Lyrics:
Told you I was gonna die today, but you just turned away. Felt the blood slip down my arms. To which God should I pray? Got on my knees for Jesus, too, but he looked the other way. Tell me, mother, what’s the story? Is it hate or self-decay? Tell me, father, what’s it like to see me slip away? Tell me, sister, did it hurt when I was led astray? Tell me, brother, will I heal or will death take me today? Policeman will ask my friends if they saw it this way. Did you know I was going to die today? Wrote the note on top my flesh so my words with me will stay. Used the pen to slash my wrists but I glanced the other way. Let the ink spill to the floor. Oh, what will they say? I told you I was going to die today… die today. I told you I was going to die today… but you just turned away.

CLICK IT! :D

Point Of No Return

A Long Time Ago April 17, 2011 at 4:07 pm

A long time ago I had blogs to write every day. I had new ideas and thoughts and I would have posted every day… only my dad said I shouldn’t. He said I should post every couple of days. It’s been a while since I last posted on here. Maybe it’s because my brain is too fuddled. Maybe there’s just too much going on to even stop and consider what I should write about. I’m not even sure. Anyways. I thought I would get on here and actually write something this time. Usually I just stare at the blog and wonder what I’m going to put. I got on here with the intention of actually putting something interesting down… only to discover that I didn’t know what to write about. I got a tattoo on Wednesday that I drew myself so here’s a picture of that instead.

 

You Know What I Mean… Right? April 6, 2011 at 1:12 am

I just sat down at my computer and discovered that oftentimes when I say I’m going to bed… I’m not really going to bed. And now that I think about it, I say a lot of stuff that means something different than what it really means. So here’s a list of things I say that actually mean something else.

1. “I’m going to bed.” – This really means I’m going to go sit in my room, either with the door open or closed, and browse the internet for a while. This can sometimes take up to an hour or more and oftentimes people I say this to will run into me in the bathroom, give me a funny look, and/or ask why I’m not in bed. This results in a shrug of my shoulders that either indicates I woke up to go pee or that you should know by now that I wasn’t really in bed in the first place and that I am now taking the nightly pee that really does mean I’m going to bed.

2. “Oh. You’re going to wear that?” – This isn’t a real question, not even close. This question is in fact generally accompanied by a face twitch that means, “I hope you’re not planning on impressing anyone in that outfit.” Don’t even bother answering this question. Because whatever your answer is, you should just automatically assume that I think the outfit looks stupid and you should probably go change because if I think it looks stupid then chances are a lot of other people will think it looks stupid, too.

3. “I really don’t care.” – This doesn’t mean I don’t care. This really means that if it was possible to care even less than I already do… then I care a million times less than that. This does not mean my caring level is zero. It means it is less than zero. It probably extends somewhere to negative infinity. That’s how much I really don’t care.

4. “I was just checking to see if I’m fat.” – I don’t really think I’m fat. I really don’t. What this really means is that I’m checking to make sure my pants haven’t created some sort of weird muffin top for me throughout the day, that the outline of my six-pack is still coming in, and that my stretch marks haven’t increased. I can’t really check to see if I’m fat because… well… I’m not fat. And I know this. I just say that because it’s a lot easier than explaining the complexity of what I’m really doing.

5. “Oh, no, I just got something in my eye.” – I was crying.

6. “Oh, man, I really have to sneeze.” – Unless I literally do have to sneeze, this line is generally accompanied by watery eyes and me waving my hand dramatically at my face, and then it is definitely NOT followed by a sneeze. Usually this means I have to cry but I don’t want you to know and I would rather pass it off as a bad nose itch and a desire to sneeze. If I really do have to sneeze, you’ll find me staring at a light with my mouth wide open and not waving my hands at all.

7. “I will seriously punch you in the face.” – I’m not going to punch you in the face. I would never, ever make the first move in a fight because that, my friends, is called assault. If you hit me first, I will gladly punch you in the face. Generally speaking though, if I say this, it doesn’t mean I am going to punch you in the face. It means I’m pretty fucking serious about what I just said before that or that I’m pretty fucking serious about the fact that you’re a complete idiot for whatever you just did or said and it would be in your best interest to listen to me or to stop being such an idiot.

8. “Can I help you?” – Usually this is said with a sneer, a slight raising of the eyebrows, and a rather stern glare. It doesn’t mean that I want to help you at all. It usually means, “Do you have a fucking problem? Do you want to ask me if I care? Would you like to get the hell away from me before we start having problems?” Generally this happens because someone that I know dislikes me is staring at me or gesturing at me in a way I find inappropriate and me being me… I’m not afraid to confront them and get the issue laid out on the table.

9. “Is this a long story?” – This means my attention span for you right now is minimal and that at the end of the story I will have probably discovered I didn’t really care in the first place. It also means that if it is a long story and you really want me to know about it, you better find a way to tell it fast before I get bored and you get pissed off that I’m not listening. It’s not that I don’t want to listen. It’s just that a lot of people happen to take forever to tell stories that could be done in three seconds.

10. “Yeah. Sure. Okay.” – I don’t believe you. I don’t care about believing you. I probably don’t care about whatever you’re saying. I might not even care about you. And most likely I’m just saying this because I want you to shut the hell up and leave me alone before you annoy me even further and because I know agreeing with you is the fastest way to get you to leave me alone.

Item Removal March 30, 2011 at 4:26 pm

I have a more appropriate blog coming soon. But it might operate around boy obsession (teenage giggles and all that jazz) so be prepared to be sick.

WHOA. March 21, 2011 at 11:11 am

My dad the other day said that I operate on wavelengths. I go up and down and up and down. My hair might be further proof of this. I can’t just stick with one thing.

Fried Egg March 17, 2011 at 5:32 pm

I have to admit that I have finally witnessed something that has almost put me at a loss for words. Even now I’m not even sure how to start explaining this. I mean… I thought Justin Bieber and all of those Disney stars were bad (does EVERY Disney star that acts, in the loosest sense of the word, suddenly have to become a singer?) and then my friend showed me something that surpassed all of that and made those Disney singers a thousand times better. Before I begin, I have to clear things up by saying that I have never indulged any of those Disney stars. I will not buy their CD’s. I wouldn’t even illegally download the stuff if I could. And the only times I’ve ever had the misfortune to listen to any of them were the result of a poorly constructed radio playlist or because of a poorly constructed playlist put together by people who happened to be in the same car as me. (And no, I don’t know why in the world I would be with people who have such a mainstream taste in music. It just happens. We can’t expect everyone to understand what real music is.)

Anyways. I’m not sure if any of you have ever heard of a record company called Ark Music Factory. This company was only recently brought to my attention by a friend of mine and what I’ve gleaned from her and several hilarious YouTube videos is that Ark Music Factory is a record company that specializes in giving record deals to twelve-year-old girls who sound just as bad auto-tuned as they do live. I’ve also heard that apparently the company also gets paid by the parents or guardians of these girls to give them record deals, but whether or not this is true is beyond me. Either way, it’s a pretty shoddy excuse for a record company… and in a way it’s creepy, too. So far I haven’t found a single one of their so-called artists who hasn’t been an underage girl. The only exception to this is the old black guy who conveniently shows up in all of the music videos. We’ll get to that later, though.

Now, Ark Music Factory recently put out a new singer that goes by the name of Rebecca Black. Judging from the thirteen million views she now has on YouTube, I wouldn’t be at all surprised if you told me that you’ve heard about her. She has this song out called “Friday” and to be perfectly honest… it is most likely the worst thing I have ever heard. Auto-tuned to the extreme with a music video where her mouth never quite seems to match up with her words, Friday is a song about, well, Friday. The lyrics go a little something like this: Friday, Friday, Friday, today is Friday, yesterday was Thursday, tomorrow will be Saturday, then follows Sunday, fun, fun, fun, partying, partying, yeah. Obviously those aren’t completely accurate (I might have the order of my days of the week a bit off) but you get the idea. At one point she sings about having to go to the bus stop… but then she gets picked up by her friends and can’t decide whether she should sit in the back of the car or the front of the car. Literally. She says that. She sings, “Which seat should I take?” I can’t decide if that was the worst part… or if the worst part was the beginning of the song when she sings about getting a bowl of cereal.

After all of this I should probably note again that this girl looks to be about twelve. If you don’t have the urge to look this up on YouTube (and make sure you watch the official video because there are a lot of videos simply mocking Rebecca) or watch the video at the bottom of this blog entry, then picture all of this. You have Rebecca, this young girl who looks about twelve and who keeps singing even though the music and her mouth are apparently on different parts of the song, and she gets up in the morning and then goes to the bus stop. The song plays it off like she’s going to get on the bus but then all of a sudden her twelve-year-old friends who apparently have licenses roll up in a silver convertible (Daddy’s money?) and Rebeccca stands there for a while deciding which seat to take. She eventually gets in the car but she doesn’t actually sit in a seat. She sits on the back end of the car, just behind the back seats, and now they’re going down a dark street in party clothes (TWELVE-YEAR-OLDS!) and they end up at a party (full of more TWELVE-YEAR-OLDS!) and Rebecca keeps mouthing the words and now she’s on a stage and people are cheering for her and it’s Friday and these twelve-year-olds are PARTYING.

Uhh… what?

This is the part now where I mention the old black guy again. See, this whole song has been kind of pop sounding (really, now, think Disney star songs), and then out of nowhere, you have this older black man (I’m thinking maybe 35 or 40?) driving his car and he’s rapping about it being Friday. What the hell? We had Rebecca and then… this? If you’re not completely thrown off by this you must not be normal. How can you have a twelve-year-old auto-tuned to a pop song and then suddenly throw in a black guy rapping? And I should probably mention that this guy is HUGE, too. He’s no Lil Wayne. He’s this hulking beast of a man. What he’s doing in this twelve-year-old’s video is beyond me… and what he’s doing in the videos of all of the other twelve-year-olds with Ark Music Factory is also beyond me. A lot of people on YouTube keep saying he’s going to be famous… but probably for all of the wrong reasons (and if you don’t know what that means, don’t ask).

I think the real question I’m struggling with is wondering what the music world is coming to. If people like that can make money off of “music”… then why am I still sitting here? Sign me up, Ark Music Factory!

Oh, wait. I’m over eighteen. I guess that doesn’t work. And I’m not sure how they would handle somebody who could actually sing. And write their own songs. And even play a few instruments. Damn.

Ah, well. Here’s the video: Friday – Rebecca Black

 

Time To Waste March 10, 2011 at 6:59 pm

I like the numb feeling I get at the tips of my fingers when I’ve been playing the guitar for too long. I only recently began to pick up guitar playing. I did a little bit of it when I was younger, but with all of the free time I seem to have discovered in college (and also my bad sleeping habits leading to late nights) and the lack of a piano or keyboard in my dorm, I decided to try it again. I haven’t gotten very far; so far I sort of know Time To Waste by Alkaline Trio and Only Exception by Paramore (upon the request of Graysea), along with a few random snippets of things here and there. However, unlike most people nowadays who play guitar, I intend to one day be able to play a song by reading sheet music instead of using tabs. I also plan to be able to sing and play at the same time. Although I’m hesitant to believe it, I’ve been told I have a rather nice singing voice, and the few times I’ve been spied on while playing Time To Waste, people have told me that they were actually surprised to discover I had a nice voice. This always makes me blush and I end up blubbering and looking embarrassed until they go away. The only problem, however, with singing and playing is that I appear to have a hard time keeping my voice and my playing out of sync. The vocalization to Only Exception is different than the actual guitar part and I have a hard time keeping them separate; my fingers always want to play the same thing my voice is singing. I’m improving, though. Slowly, of course, but any improvement is better than none.

I have to admit that guitar playing has been a very creative outlet for me lately. I spent a couple of weeks before I began playing the guitar irritated with life and feeling bloated with anxiety and ready to explode. Closing my eyes, though, feeling the steel strings beneath my fingers, letting the notes hit my ears and singing has completely relaxed me. When I feel stressed now and I’m not busy, I pull out the guitar and begin to play. It’s like everything I’m feeling courses into the strings and is released with every strum I make. It’s a wonderfully light feeling that has dragged me even further into the desire to write since music has always created the urge to write. I feel more at ease with life than I can ever remember feeling and more capable of handling stressful and/or stupid situations. I also feel like I’m suddenly more able to get rid of things (mostly people) in my life that I don’t need and I’ve begun to realize how very trivial certain things are.

It’s strange to think these delicious feelings and thoughts all occurred because of a little wooden instrument, but it’s amazing all at the same time, too. I was just sitting at my desk listening to music, lightly running my fingertips against my skin to feel the kind of numb and yet almost painful feeling of the calluses that are building up on them, and I began to think that guitar playing has made me extremely happy. There is something unique about the feelings a person can get from making music and I believe they are feelings everyone should try out, whether they are musically inclined or not.

To randomly add to all of this, I have taken quite a liking to the band Fear Factory. I put them on my iPod on a whim when I first got it and their songs shuffle through quite often. I enjoy that they appear to mix heavy metal and a techno sort of electronic sound all at once. When I don’t have my guitar, I listen to some of their music. It never fails to make me feel good.

And now… Talking Heads are burning down the house so I must be off. Here’s a random picture I took earlier of myself because I’m a narcissist. Good day, my friends.