You don't realize what you're missing until it's gone. I hate to admit it, even to myself, but why should I hide from the truth? I think about everyone nearly every day, and I'm not exaggerating. There are just so many people that I always keep in mind, and honestly, I don't think it was ever that way until I realized that I wouldn't be seeing these people, anymore. I talk to them, sure, but it isn't the same as seeing their faces as much as I wanted to. Nothing is the same, anymore.
I can't help the way I feel. I wish I could take back so many things...so as long as I live with that mentality, I won't ever be satisfied. There were people I wronged, people I pushed away, and it was never my intention to hurt anyone, but like I said; I can't help the way I feel. I always dream about getting all those people together and giving out a speech to tell them how much I care, how much I wish they'd understand that I didn't mean to push them away, didn't mean to do the things that I had done; I care so much. Now I sit here, and I write this, and I simply wish deeply. It's all I can do. These people...they all live different lives, they're all taking different paths, and whether or not they're doing the right things, I wonder what could have been different if I had made a bit more of an effort. I remember graduation, and there were those who cried, there were those who hugged and didn't let go for the longest time. If I would have known how hard it was going to be without those people in my life, I would have bawled throughout the night. It just...sucks. It really does.
I was in class nearly a half hour ago, and there are people in there whom I get along with, and they're great; the teacher was late, so we played hangman on the board, and a girl named Nicole asked me to play Dots with her, the game where you make the squares before your opponent can (that's as good of an explanation as I can give). It felt nice to have those connections with people. Perhaps those same people will be around in my life, forever. I wouldn't mind, at all. But at the same time, I could remember playing hangman with the people I had grown up with, playing Dots or whatever with the girls I grew up with. And knowing that...well, it won't ever be the same, again. I wouldn't dare say I'm miserable, or depressed, or whatever word you might use; I'm not. But I took my life for granted; hell, I still do. Despite what I might say to anyone, despite how strongly I feel towards life, is it possible to live it without taking anything for granted? What hurts is that, ultimately, I found that I had taken everything for granted. Nothing comes easy, nothing goes easy, I know this, but when it takes this long to realize how much more I should have cared, and not just because it's eating away at me inside...you know that you regret at least something. And I won't deny it. I wish I could just take everyone's hand and tell them how much I care about them.
But maybe it's too late. That's a harsh reality to deal with, but do we dare say it isn't? Do we honestly believe that there's always time? I want to believe it. Yeah...I want to believe it, too. Maybe I should just say, "The hell with it!", and throw myself out there. But would it really change anything? Some people would accept it, but when you were that close to someone...something's always different. And you want to be around those certain people as much as possible when you actually do see them after all the time had gone by, but for some reason, you don't want to show it. At least, it's how I feel. Maybe I feel like they don't care as much as I do, like, somehow, it shows.
But I wouldn't blame them. I don't blame you.
Friday, March 6, 2009
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
Mind over matter? Yeah. Right.
It's currently cold. Like usual. And it got me thinking, as I always do during any circumstance. I've heard countless times that as long as you set your mind to it, you can overcome anything, no matter how harsh it is, but this is bologna, of course. It's not the saying itself that drives me banana-sandwich, but the concept doesn't apply for simply anything. For your philosophical pleasure, I've made up some examples:
If you try liver, you're going to hate it, no matter how much you plea with yourself.
If your nose is stuffed, you get angry. You hate it.
If your nose itches, it perseveres. You must itch it or else you will go insane.
If you hit your funny bone, you laugh for some reason. And it's really not funny.
If the keyboard is missing its legs that prop it up somewhat, you hate it.
If your best friend is snoring loudly at night, you can't block it out. You yell at them. Maybe it's because that person's your best friend. They shouldn't be doing things like that.
IF THE FIRE ALARM GOES OFF, ITS LOUD. Not quiet. LOUD. DEAL WITH IT, AND HATE IT. I mean, seriously, has someone ever said, "I love the sound of the fire alarm, it just gets me all tingly inside"?
If you're in the desert, it's hot. Don't try to pretend it's cold, because it won't work.
When someone does something embarrassing on a television show, you inevitable feel embarrassed, as well. Note that I said inevitable. You cover your eyes and say things like, "Oh, my God. What the hell is he thinking?!"
Pulling teeth is the worst. It only happens when your tooth is tied to the door and someone else closes it, not you. It's impossible.
You can't move things with your mind. Matter wins, again.
If Timothy destroys the public restroom, we'd all do the same thing: take two steps in the bathroom, then one step out. Because that's how fast we'd be out the door. If it stinks, there's no denying it.
You can't tell yourself that there will be a next time. Because you'll always regret it. Another win for matter?
If it's dark, it's dark. Duh.
If it's bright, it's bright. Duh.
If you were to plummet off a cliff and hit thirteen different rocks on the way down, don't tell me you could block out the pain. Only Superman could do that. Unless Lex had previously injected him with Kryptonite. Then no one could do it.
Note to teenagers: saying you won't get pregnant isn't going to guarantee anything. So stop it.
Could we honestly pretend that a question mark is an exclamation point, and an exclamation point is a question mark? I didn't think so.
Yeah, you try putting your finger against a hot iron and pretend it's no big deal. I swear, irons are hotter than the sun.
We can't fly. Many people have learned the hard way.
If the dude has a shadow going on, the girl can't stop themselves from saying so; *kiss, kiss* .. "Mm, you're so poky." Um..thanks?
If there's a tornado, we're not going to run towards it.
On April Fool's day, moms can't stop themselves from trying to fool us. And somehow, it always works.
Mascots are fun to look at. We can't make ourselves look away when they decide to sit down right next to us.
If it's red, it's definitely red.
If something works, we're not going to pretend it doesn't. Who would do that? Could you imagine someone throwing the toaster across the kitchen because they were trying to pretend it didn't just toast their strudels?
If it's cold, you're cold. And you hate it.
If you try liver, you're going to hate it, no matter how much you plea with yourself.
If your nose is stuffed, you get angry. You hate it.
If your nose itches, it perseveres. You must itch it or else you will go insane.
If you hit your funny bone, you laugh for some reason. And it's really not funny.
If the keyboard is missing its legs that prop it up somewhat, you hate it.
If your best friend is snoring loudly at night, you can't block it out. You yell at them. Maybe it's because that person's your best friend. They shouldn't be doing things like that.
IF THE FIRE ALARM GOES OFF, ITS LOUD. Not quiet. LOUD. DEAL WITH IT, AND HATE IT. I mean, seriously, has someone ever said, "I love the sound of the fire alarm, it just gets me all tingly inside"?
If you're in the desert, it's hot. Don't try to pretend it's cold, because it won't work.
When someone does something embarrassing on a television show, you inevitable feel embarrassed, as well. Note that I said inevitable. You cover your eyes and say things like, "Oh, my God. What the hell is he thinking?!"
Pulling teeth is the worst. It only happens when your tooth is tied to the door and someone else closes it, not you. It's impossible.
You can't move things with your mind. Matter wins, again.
If Timothy destroys the public restroom, we'd all do the same thing: take two steps in the bathroom, then one step out. Because that's how fast we'd be out the door. If it stinks, there's no denying it.
You can't tell yourself that there will be a next time. Because you'll always regret it. Another win for matter?
If it's dark, it's dark. Duh.
If it's bright, it's bright. Duh.
If you were to plummet off a cliff and hit thirteen different rocks on the way down, don't tell me you could block out the pain. Only Superman could do that. Unless Lex had previously injected him with Kryptonite. Then no one could do it.
Note to teenagers: saying you won't get pregnant isn't going to guarantee anything. So stop it.
Could we honestly pretend that a question mark is an exclamation point, and an exclamation point is a question mark? I didn't think so.
Yeah, you try putting your finger against a hot iron and pretend it's no big deal. I swear, irons are hotter than the sun.
We can't fly. Many people have learned the hard way.
If the dude has a shadow going on, the girl can't stop themselves from saying so; *kiss, kiss* .. "Mm, you're so poky." Um..thanks?
If there's a tornado, we're not going to run towards it.
On April Fool's day, moms can't stop themselves from trying to fool us. And somehow, it always works.
Mascots are fun to look at. We can't make ourselves look away when they decide to sit down right next to us.
If it's red, it's definitely red.
If something works, we're not going to pretend it doesn't. Who would do that? Could you imagine someone throwing the toaster across the kitchen because they were trying to pretend it didn't just toast their strudels?
If it's cold, you're cold. And you hate it.
Sunday, March 1, 2009
Welcome To March
There was a lake, a vast bed that shed ripples one after another as a breeze that I could not feel because it was just a dream swept over the city; tall buildings sat at the other side of the lake, and between those buildings were the buildings that were not so pristine; and as the dazzling sun shot through the cracks between the clouds, which were creating an odd floral design, the song queued all around me...
It was like nothing I had ever heard, before, yet somehow, it was familiar, each note sounding so clear that I could just imagine where my fingers would lay on the neck of the guitar if I was to play it. Without any conscious thought, I felt my head turning fluidly this way and that, taking in where I was standing: there was nothing around me within fifty yards, save for the grass that welted where the concrete started, and then there were broken buildings, a car that was beaten to hell, several inanimate objects that I could not name, now, and as I stared, the song continued, flowing with the same pattern, but then there were drums! And a second guitar started to fade into the rhythm, providing for a more chill-inspiring experience, and finally, there were words, wrapping around the patterns of the music, barreling in my ears, and the words spoke perfectly for the instruments I was hearing. And suddenly, I felt myself missing a small part that no one should be without. "Can you feel it? It's not like we could have been without some light, before we realize that these motels and city streets are the best parts of our lives."
I had nothing to hold on to but what was around me, and I suddenly knew just what everything represented; be it the tallest buildings or the vastest sea, everything represented that even the smallest things somehow give us comfort in a time when we don't have anyone to hold on to. And as I woke from that dream, I found myself for the longest time delving into the music I was hearing, forcing myself to remember the words, because, like those motels and city streets, they were as much a small thing that gives me comfort so that I could go on until I found someone to hold on to. When I do, I won't pretend that it's bright enough to keep me satisfied for the rest of my life.
I stood at the foot of my bed, staring at my guitar, wondering if I could pull it off. My pick was stowed beneath the strings at the second fret, and I couldn't help myself. I picked up the acoustic as gently as I could, readied myself, trying to remember that beautiful song, and I began to play. It wasn't right at first, but after studying each note and what could be or not be, I found what I was looking for. And taking those words I had heard before I awoke, I allowed the dream to come to life, allowed myself to start the morning with something precious:
"Can you feel it? It's not like we could have been without some light, before we realize that these motels and city streets are the best parts of our lives."
I've decided to call the song "Welcome to March". Not just because I had the dream on the first of March, but because when I looked out my window and saw the sun streaming across the lawn and the woods, saw the cracks through the clouds and the grass seeping through the patches of snow, I could nearly hear the song as though I had fell asleep once more.
It was like nothing I had ever heard, before, yet somehow, it was familiar, each note sounding so clear that I could just imagine where my fingers would lay on the neck of the guitar if I was to play it. Without any conscious thought, I felt my head turning fluidly this way and that, taking in where I was standing: there was nothing around me within fifty yards, save for the grass that welted where the concrete started, and then there were broken buildings, a car that was beaten to hell, several inanimate objects that I could not name, now, and as I stared, the song continued, flowing with the same pattern, but then there were drums! And a second guitar started to fade into the rhythm, providing for a more chill-inspiring experience, and finally, there were words, wrapping around the patterns of the music, barreling in my ears, and the words spoke perfectly for the instruments I was hearing. And suddenly, I felt myself missing a small part that no one should be without. "Can you feel it? It's not like we could have been without some light, before we realize that these motels and city streets are the best parts of our lives."
I had nothing to hold on to but what was around me, and I suddenly knew just what everything represented; be it the tallest buildings or the vastest sea, everything represented that even the smallest things somehow give us comfort in a time when we don't have anyone to hold on to. And as I woke from that dream, I found myself for the longest time delving into the music I was hearing, forcing myself to remember the words, because, like those motels and city streets, they were as much a small thing that gives me comfort so that I could go on until I found someone to hold on to. When I do, I won't pretend that it's bright enough to keep me satisfied for the rest of my life.
I stood at the foot of my bed, staring at my guitar, wondering if I could pull it off. My pick was stowed beneath the strings at the second fret, and I couldn't help myself. I picked up the acoustic as gently as I could, readied myself, trying to remember that beautiful song, and I began to play. It wasn't right at first, but after studying each note and what could be or not be, I found what I was looking for. And taking those words I had heard before I awoke, I allowed the dream to come to life, allowed myself to start the morning with something precious:
"Can you feel it? It's not like we could have been without some light, before we realize that these motels and city streets are the best parts of our lives."
I've decided to call the song "Welcome to March". Not just because I had the dream on the first of March, but because when I looked out my window and saw the sun streaming across the lawn and the woods, saw the cracks through the clouds and the grass seeping through the patches of snow, I could nearly hear the song as though I had fell asleep once more.
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