I'm off for the weekend

Heading to Wildflower for a triathalon that my brother's competing in.
Hoping to have a good time.

Stay updated! Don't forget about me.

There's just too much variety

I go through phases in what music I listen to.

I used to really dig grunge and alternative.

Then I learned a lot about bands like Dave Matthews, RHCP, Rage Against the Machine, Alice in Chains.

They all have an underlying theme, and I've come to believe that it's uncertainty.

I don't listen to as much music as I did when I was single. Lol. I just had more time to myself, and I played guitar and drums more often then, too. 

In some ways I miss it. Music was how I defined myself for a long time, especially rock music.

And then I heard rap that I loved. Snoop Dogg's "The Chronic" turned me on to rad hip hop that I still listen to.

And Asher Roth. I personally like Ash even though everyone makes fun of him. I identify with a white guy that grew up in the 'burbs that happens to like spittin flows.

I love Das Racist. You ever heard of them?

They don't even make sense.

You should like them too. Or at least give them a chance. It's a lot more deep than the seemingly-nonsensical lyrics suggest.

I dig it like a miner digs clay.

Lately I've been into rap and some dubstep. Love me some dubstep. :) 

And I never would have thought I'd like dubstep if you asked me five years ago. 

Way too much to listen to. How can anyone be educated about all the music out there?

To a Collective of Insufferable Individuals

I will never stoop so low as to hate someone, but I loathe the way you exclude me.

I am unwelcome among my own family when you take over with your despised presence.

Your emotions are unfounded, unjust and unrealistic for someone I have to call my peer.

Have you ever truly experienced anything outside of your own iron-clad shell you’re afraid to leave? 

A true person will respect others and there is no trace of tolerance within your voices.

Most people don’t listen while others are talking, they just wait for their turn to speak.

And that is you. 

The universe is not anything remotely reminiscent of the one you were taught— on the contrary, yours is obsolete and judgmental and unnecessary.

Why aren’t you pleasant? You’re not. You’re not even hardly pleasant. You’re the master of bitch. You’re the epitome of bitch. You’re captain bitch of the highest rank in the bitch department in Bitch, USA.

You are fickle, finicky, condescending; and concerned with the arbitrary— and it all wraps up like a delicious chalupa into a savage creature that deserves no love from me.

If you learned to see things the way they are instead of the way you feel they should be maybe you would have more smile lines and could begin to appreciate how blue the sky is instead of how nasty the grey is.

There’s your problem! You are hypersensitive. Some part of your mind picks up on key words, ideas, phrases, emotions, and throws them out of proportion in ridicule to where you think you have some control. 

I know you’re a human being, but you are a poor excuse for a soul.

My only wish is for you to be indifferent because the absence of disdain is a step in the winsome direction!

I won’t give up but until then I’m going to despise your every being.

Blow it out your ass and blow it as hard as you can. Maybe you’ll win an award for blowing it out your ass.

Warm regards, myself

When I do the Dishes I Smell Like Fishes

I feel so accomplished when I check something off a mental to-do list.

Unfortunately I haven’t had crap to do for about 4 weeks now even though my peers are stressing and stressing and stressing by messing everything up. I get this vibe, a vibe like I should be working harder but I’m working hard and I feel right just where I am in Urban Suburb, California, AKA Campbell and not Saratoga.

Always end a statement with a question so you never learn anything you already knew. What?

That way, everybody thinks you’re smart. Like a lawyer.

I know my rights, just like everybody doesn’t, and when an officer asks to check my bag, I tell him no. But never say no to a woman because no gets lost in translation as harassment. 

SO! I have a great pack of besties. Like sheep. Or something, but sheep is a bad word because that implies we all follow. What’s something that leads the way?

An eagle?

Yeah. We’re like eagles.

Except for some of us with mental illness, but that’s all of us, so shit, never mind. 

People react to me in exaggerated fashions, like a boy allergic to cats. The hell did the cat do to him? 

Nothing, but the boy’s body sends up a firewall to protect him against something that’s beneficial.

Who knows why allergies even exist. If the human body didn’t flip a beezy when introduced to a harmless substance, like urushiol or flowers or fresh strawberries, then there would be no trouble or pain associated with allergies. What’s up with that? Like, if the human body just ignored strawberries because they’re just some strawberries instead of going, STRAWBERRIES MAN THE HARPOONS, then nobody would ever die.

Fooled you. 

People always die.

I once read a brilliant poet, 

“Without life there would be no death/ Without death there would be no life”

Wow. True genius on Earth, if by genius you meant “lies.”

So what the hell does that mean? Death is awesome. If Kurt Cobain was still around his band would have burnt out like the Rolling Stones. Look at Pearl Jam.

They’ve spent the last decade deliberately tearing apart their own fame.

God, that bugs me. It’s like artistic humility and suicide.

Nobody should ever hide themselves from the truth no matter how horrible. To run from knowledge is to hide from acceptance and that is immaturity in its lowest form.

Don’t people always die?

“Most egregious a world we live in, Ted.”

“Most non-triumphant, Bill.”

Yeah, guys. It’s both of those things but it’s most excellent when you consider how awesome John Coltrane sounds on a winter’s eve by your lonesome.

The N64 is a beautiful thing

My friend got me back into playing Goldeneye 64 about a month ago.

Ever since then we've just been hanging out on weekends and kicking back to play some 007.

So I picked up other stuff like Banjo Tooie, Super Smash, and Mario Kart.

You know, these games have amazing replay value. Sure, the graphics are definitely not 2011, but they're more than playable, and they have really great ideas. 

Banjo Tooie is still a game that's hella good. It just is. The controls are simple but it's puzzling, and not a chore.

The dialogue and story are actually interesting, because it's just cartoon bears and shit. And it's challenging. 

I never beat the game when I was a kid but I'm planning on it once I finish Banjo Kazooie, the prequel.

I legitimately like playing n64 games just as much (and sometimes more than) as new-gen ones on the Xbox or whatever.

Like, Goldeneye is just so simple. But it's so different from something like Modern Warfare. 

When I play Xbox live, I get destroyed. Rampant racism and cussing is such a joke when I play live. It's crap.  

I ragequit when I start to lose. Which is all the time. 

But not goldeneye! It's so fun to have a few people over and play DK mode on a level with only a few rooms. 

It's just so much simpler, and equally fun to play. 

Sigh. I need to get some friends.

Blanket Fort King

Lol. This is my favorite sketch by these guys. They've always made me laugh.

But are they crescent fresh?

Hey guys, my mental health history is so horrible that you should all know about it and I'm going to use it as a disclaimer for everything bad I do, ever

It’s one thing to have severe depression. That is a case in and of itself that is to be taken seriously.

However, to have depression and then complain about it to other people without any thought of how to fix it?

I think that might not be depression at all. That’s something called immaturity.

Anybody that is pretty close to me is aware that I know what I’m talking about. But I don’t let people know left and right. I don’t complain. Things have gotten much better since last year— in school, socially and every other way; I’m thankful that my life is how it is.

I stopped associating myself with drama (or “baggage,” a term I started using last year that means any extra crap that is part of being with another person) directly this year. It’s just not worth my time. 

That is to say, I’m no better or worse than any other person I know, but I have the choice to be around certain people and not be around other certain people. 

The way I become friends with somebody is practically black and white. I don’t (or try not very hard not to) judge the people around me, but the baggage they come with is definitely more cut and dry to like and dislike.

Here’s an example. There’s this dude that I was friends with for a long time. Somewhere in middle school we stopped being around each other (mostly by my choice) because of all the stupid things that I had to take on in addition to his friendship. He would whine, complain and worst of all, disregard my opinion and feelings.

I gradually realized that interacting with him was not about us talking; it was about him talking to me.

I love the guy. He’s a cool dude.

But the baggage he comes with is irritating and just unpleasant.

So that’s why I stopped hanging out with him. I’m not a bad person. It wasn’t that I’m a bad friend. We just don’t click as bro’s.

Now, though, there’s people that I just won’t be with because the baggage is ridiculous. It’s very easy to pick up on people that make their lives part of yours. The trick is not to get trapped, because even when you take on part of their life, for whatever reason, their load doesn’t become any less.

It’s almost like it just multiplies. Now you have to deal with them AND yourself. It’s not healthy. 

That doesn’t mean I don’t like to listen to my friends. I lean on my bro’s just as much as they lean on me.

The difference between needing an ear and shoving your baggage on other people is — you ready? — throwing off your baggage does not help you at all. Your problem is not relieved and it is entirely unnecessary. 

Honestly, nobody cares. True friends care about helping you with your problems, but true friends shouldn’t care at all about complaining.

And neither should you.

There’s a rut that people get stuck in called depression. Everybody sees it. It’s not some big secret. I know what it’s like. 

I don’t know much about it, but I do know a few things :)

If I could talk to myself one year ago, I would tell him these things.

1. Chill out, dude. Everything’s okay.

2. People love you. People care.

3. Stop telling yourself that you’re not going anywhere in life. Cut it out. It’s a lie.

4. You’re getting a Cadillac. It’s sweet.

5. You’re going to be on Varsity but not play. Whatever. It gets better.

6. Play more chess.

7. Stop journaling. It’s poisonous.

8. Stop talking about failure. Shut up. Just shut up. You’re not a failure. Damn. You’re 15. You can’t even fail yet. Seriously.

9. Duloxetine and Trileptal. 

10. If you ever have an opportunity for a friend’s Xbox— DONT.

—

Once upon a time, I was sad. But then, I stopped being sad and started being awesome.

True story bro.

Ice Cream

Certainly my favorite kind of ice cream. Chunky Monkey. Ben and Jerries.

It's so damn good.

Right now, eating cherry moose tracks.

you jealous?
 :)

Los Gigantes

Good mornin! Waitin to have a great day. Weather is nice here, and let's hope the giants win sometime soon. :(

Had a great day!

Went out driving.. oh it's beautiful weather.
:)

I cannot fathom

You’re not making anything easier. You’re setting me up for failure by doing nothing, honest to God, you know? 

There is a language, probably one of the most complicated on the planet, and for some reason is the most widely spoken as well.

Well, complicated languages don’t also mean complicated people that speak them although they’d like to think so.

I have this teacher, that allegedly teaches English part time and condemns students full time. 

There’s no process more impractical than the one she specializes in, no fire less cold or a method to her madness. It’s more of a delusion of helping us build character and follow the rules; peculiar when you recall the only point she boasts is hosting amazing discussions about rebellion and thinking for yourself, and standing up to have a voice. She worships the Indians during colonization and can’t seem to stop squirming when the soap box throws her in the air to rip on censorship in America.

But use your voice with her! Or, try to— you have no voice because she cannot hear, she is too busy explaining why you are nothing to be proud of. 

It is character assault. 

She will not assist you— she is incapable of rational thought, I’ve determined— yet she will speak instead so you can feel the condescension burn your skin. 

She will not help you because she wants to see a student pass by only their means and methods, to teach by not teaching and what the most important lesson you get from this year is not the material but getting the grade and not letting the door hit your behind on the way out.

I’d love to recommend teaching honors where 90% of the students don’t cut class every day and maintain a rock solid 2.0; and if you don’t have higher than C’s, she’ll fix that (have no fear) to let your know what failure feels like.

This woman is why this year will be such a struggle! 

I was convinced that I wasn’t doing anything right and then I remembered that I’m not the lackadaisical smart-ass she thinks I am and made sure to mention.