I've decided to post today so that I can set an unprecedented record of nine posts in one month! That's a record that I may be able to beat, but I fear that if I try to force myself to write then the content will become repetitive and it won't be heartfelt. I hope that is how I come across, heartfelt. I hope that you feel that I am really divulging my inner feelings and deepest secrets to you. Oh here's something new, I'll post a picture!

<--Butterfly this image is protected under copyrights.

Oh a heart is a pocket for loose change,
and we scrape and we save and we wait for a raise.
Rhythm by Page France

The difference between general rap and true hip-hop, especially underground, comes from two things as far as I can tell. First there is a much more depth and musicality to the background music. Second comes from the intelligence of the lyrics and the content as well.

It's true I'm really just trying to make myself sound smarter than I really am. But really, the second that you hear a true underground song, the difference is obvious.

I thought about this because I heard an awesome line and it needs to be shared. Then I thought I may as well start a series of all of my favorite lyrics. However, I don't have them written down, so it may be a post as I hear them thing.

"I was born flirtatious/ jumped out my mom and kissed the nurses faces/ skipped over first base." Hat and Shoes by Musab

I literally laughed out loud. Hope you enjoy these as they come.

It's been a good day. I say that because I don't think that it gets said enough. I'm so quick to see the bad, and to point out how I've been wronged. Yet, when things go right, I'm still focusing on the past and on the terrible things that happened. So take that pessimism.

"When the Savior waits to greet you as you return with honor from your life on this earth and your Heavenly Father wants to encircle you about in the arms of His love, be there."
-Elder Robert D. Hales

I think to this point I've stayed away from religion as the topic of my writings. I don't know if that was in some effort not to alienate those people whom I know who do not share the same beliefs that I do, or whether it has just never really come up all that often. Whatever the reason, I chose to share the above quote because it made a deep impact on me when I read it. I was so touched by the loving imagery that is used. I really hope that it will be like that after death. That there will be a loving friend/savior/relative, someone who has missed me so much that I will just fall into their embrace and never let go. It's a very euphoric dream but I think that is why it will be heaven and not like life as we know it. Full of doubts and confusion.

There is so much potential in life. I'm not living up to mine.

"To have compassion for those who suffer is a human quality which everyone should possess, especially those who have required comfort themselves in the past and have managed to find it in others."
Giovanni Boccaccio's The Decameron

It really amazes/frustrates me that any amateur with a digital camera can 'point and shoot' and turn out an amazing picture. But when I work and work at my photography, I still churn out some really crappy stuff.

Oh, a heart is a pocket for loose change
We scrape and we save and we wait for a raise
Rhythm by Page France

But the lows are so extreme
That the good seems f-ing cheap
And it teases you for weeks in its absence
But you'll fight and you'll make it through
You'll fake it if you have to
And you'll show up for work with a smile
A Better Son/Daugter by Rilo Kiley

It's been a rough couple of days. Lethargy manages to set in at the worst times. Watching things crumble around me should force me into action, but I find some sort of distraction for my mind.

So again I turn to music and movies to make me happy, and to glean those life lessons that should be learned from a better source. I'm a let down and a downer. What a great combination. The thing that I hate most about truly sharing my feelings with people, through blogs or whatever, is that they feel like they need to make me feel better. A call usually comes after the post, "are you okay?" I am, I just have bad days. Sometimes I need to sulk. I don't want someone taking it on themselves to make me feel better.

I'm not really even sure what I'm writing. What it comes down to is that on the depressing days I am a paradox. I am lonely and sad and I just want to curl up in a ball, or give someone a big hug. Yet at the same time I am equally angry and unwilling to see anyone. I distance myself from the very thing that I want.

I'm really sorry for the tone of this post, and I'm just rambling now. So I'm done.

I don't know if there is anyone out there still, but I need to express this weird mood that I'm in. I happened across the story of Bryan Timm's death and I had a very strange experience. I wasn't sad. That's easy to write off though, since I wasn't all that close to him and I haven't seen him in about two years. The story prompted me to dig through my things and pull out the one yearbook that I brought with me. That's when I started to feel the pangs of loss. Of memories forgotten. Of friends lost.
It's at this point that I realize how much I love, everything. There are specific times I remember from high school, middle school, and the distant childhood, where the very thought of the days brings peace and happiness to me. In some sad sort of irony one of the times that I love the most was the time right after Kevin died. I know that I may have said this before, but there was such an amazing bond formed between that entire class. That entire school. Now, as I move along in life I find that bond is disappearing, even between those whom I considered the closest of friends. Mind you there is no fault placed, maybe some on my inability to keep in touch. However there is a longing for that same love, that same undying bond that some seems to be disappearing.
That bond doesn't seem to come as readily at college. Again no blame is placed, except possibly on my urge to move every semester, but this is one reason why I sometimes describe myself as one who lives in the high school days. It's not because of the good things that happened to me, but because of the people I loved. The terrible thought that I may never have that again, at least nowhere near that level. Such a feeling of companionship and love. Does this make sense?
It's not impossible to form such bonds, but I feel that this college atmosphere is too large, fast-paced, and unstable to provide the peace that I miss. This may again be my fault. We can do whatever we want in this life. I know that I do have true friends here. Bosom friends. Those whom I love. They are the ones who aren't put off by the fact that I have some really bad days. They don't mind that there are some days where I don't want to talk to anyone, especially them. They are the ones from back home who are slipping away from me, but I would still do anything for them. If it came to it, I would like to think that I would even sacrifice an organ, or even my life.

I'm not too sure why this strand of thought came all the way over here. I'm just in a very repentant mood. A longing mood.

I love you.

I'm having this major internal struggle right now. I was verbally chastened tonight and got more than a few reality checks. My first instinct was to pass the blame onto someone else, or to become bitter and turn that inwards. Here's what sucks: everything that was said tonight was true and I know it. So the only person that I should be pissed off it myself. So now comes the time for change. I sick of being so static all of the time. Where is the progress that I'm hoping for? Why does change always suck so much? Well, hopefully this angst that has been stewing inside of me is enough to push me past that rut that seems to screw me over all of the time.
Here's to change.

So it's been almost two months since I shared my "deepest" thoughts with those whom I can't see. Here's what's been bouncing around up there. I love my scooter. I pulled it out again today and I was instantly happier. I can't help that things go wrong in my life, they always have and I think that they always will. So now I'm turning endlessly looking for the one thing that will help me cope. Of all of the things that I've tried, I honestly think that religion is one of the best choices for me. It brings me happiness even though many times it seems like religion may be the cause of the strife in the first place. Every so often I go through these very horrible times where I have to decide not only "Am I following the right religion?" but it gets to the point where I say "Is there a God?" I believe that this is known as a trial of faith. At least that's what I'll call it. Life is painful during these times, but that is when I can learn about who I am. Not just who I am in a spiritual sense, but who I am personality wise.

I absolutely love the weakerthans:

-I count to three and grin... I've got this store-bought way of saying I'm okay/ and you learned how to cry in total silence/We're talented and bright/ we're lonely and uptight/ We've found some lovely ways to disappoint.

-I know you might roll you're eyes at this, but I'm so glad that you exist.
and so on and so forth

As far as energy and motivation go, I'm at zero. So I pull out some music from my past and let it lull me into a peaceful state where I can fret about whatever I so choose. An overwhelming future seems to be destroying my present situation... or maybe that should be the otherway around. Comparison is not something ever suggested by anyone I've talked to and I think that's because when I do compare I see the absolute nature of my predicament. How is it that almost everyone else seems to be progressing to the achievement of some goal? Ironically enough most of the goals and accomplishments seem to be fairly substantial ones at that. And yet I sit here, unable to truly express my feelings in their entirety mostly out of fear. That whole angry at the world scene is only going to work for so long and then I'll have to find some other excuse. I can feel all of that anger and such being directed to just one scapegoat, and like most scapegoats, they have done nothing wrong, or whatever minor infractions they have committed, I should not be bent out of shape about them. As I sit and think I become more and more convinced that there are actually two people inside of me. My whole life is a catch 22. Those whom I want to help aren't there. Those who are there I want to leave and stay out for a bit. It all makes perfect sense to me except for when it doesn't. As one very smart man asked, Why do we do this? Is it just that much easier to be pissed off, sad, feeling worthless? Why does happiness seem so unfamiliar and unattainable. I know that I suck at accepting change, but am I really ruining my life because of it? That's stupid. And of course I can't tell the people that I need to what I'm going through. Of course I can't understand what I need to do to drag myself out of this hole. That or the easy route seems completely unachievable. I feel like a parapalegic trying to rock climb. I can let the rope slowly lower me farther and farther down, I can waste the remaining energy that I have trying to grip to this rock and just hold on for dear life, or I can drag myself up this face of undetermined height with the hope that there will be enough hidden holds to make the feat possible. Coming down is just so easy.

-There was a time you'd let me know what's real and going on below but now you never show it to me do you?
-I'm happy if you're happy but it breaks my heart.
-What's left to lose? I've done enough, and if I fail, well then I fail but I gave it a shot. And these last three years, I know they've been hard, but now it's time to get out of the desert and into the sun, even if it's alone.


music stirs emotions, the lyrics double the power.

I need help.

It's interesting that amidst all of this turmoil in my life, I seem to be so peaceful. At least I have not freaked out like I normally would. It's this random time in the morning in which I suddenly feel so compelled to write that I feel like I should be published or something. I think that this is the equivilent of being drunk for me. I love you man. Really though, I keep searching deeply and finding just how stationary I have become, then I try to tell myself that I shouldn't be and that I'll change, and then I never do... at least I haven't yet. I keep telling myself that I'm finding inspiration in things like movies, and lost friends. It apparently isn't all that true.

Here's where I want to be: This is life, what am I waiting for. Why do I have so many reservations and why do I worry all of the time? What is the point of all the wasted time?

I guess it comes down to balancing out who I really am. Is that possible? It sure seems to be a slow process.

I love how I feel so crappy when I'm alone, and yet in order to get the motivation to get out, I have to overcome the very depression that I'm leaving to overcome, therefore negating the whole point of leaving in the first place.

Wishes and desires have become apparent and yet still unobtained.

I'm weird. Sorry.

I realize now that my motives for starting photography are not pure in nature, I miss the compliments and now I've an art form that is really just a glorified way of fishing for praise.

I realize how much I really do live in the past, and then when something wonderful happens I am unable to appreciate how wonderful it is. Like a dear friend finding a great source of happiness and me still bitter about things which were never offensive to begin with. Ambiguous enough?

I think that in a lot of ways I've given up. I can honestly point to multiple areas of my life where I have failed and had the intention of trying again, then just gave up. Stopped trying. It's almost like I'm trying to move on, but everytime that I look back on my life, I only have regrets or wishes to change the past, which I'm sure that I can do if I try really hard.

Basically I'm jealous. Of other people's happiness, or their talents, or their position. I feel jealous and then I get bitter, then I supress the bitterness instead of talking it out, which I should, so it builds and festers inside and then I write in my blog or my blue notebook. It doesn't change anything. Even talking it out wouldn't help if I didn't do anything about it. Which I never have. I don't have the guts to stand up to someone and say "I feel wronged, help me forgive" I place all of the blame on myself and let it consume me.

So that's where my depression comes from. It's real. It's ugly. It's hidden. It only seems to show up at this time when I'm alone. I wish that this could be cured with a helpful friend or a stern letter from someone who cares. I appreciate those things more than I can say, but this change has to come from the inside.

So now what do I do? I break the cycle and make life worth living every minute of every day. I think that I've tried that before and failed. Now I think that I've given up.

So how do I break a cycle?

-my bro bro comes back from his mission in eight days.
-in eleven days it will be Oct 21. 2006
-in five days I will need a refill
-in five days it will be Sunday again
-in half a day life goes nuts
-in six days I will get paid. (much needed)
-in twenty one days my sis starts the dating thing

What about today?

I've submerged myself in the arts, mainly photography and music, but I've also had the desire to write like never before, and drawing has even become appealing, even though I really suck at that. I've started watching more movies, and now all I need is more time to read and I'm good. Oh except for the fact that I need to catch up in class... a lot.

There are good days and bad days... good and bad

My room's a mess and that doesn't help my feelings of organization and change, plus I need to find time to add in some other things, like laundry and a haircut.

Right now I have the most massive desire to be in nature. Especially up on Superior's North Shore, Duluth and moving up towards Canada. I have some amazing memories of just doing nothing on the shore. Sitting on an outcropping of rocks, listening to some soothing music, looking off into space, with a brisk wind keeping me aware of the temperature. I loved those days. I hope that I will find something here to be as lovely (i.e. the mountains). Now the wanderlust kicks in. Just pack up and go. Live in the woods and just think like Emerson or Thoreau (or hippies).

Cool.

My dear friends,
I would like to apologize to you. These last six months have been rough for me, especially this past week. I am sorry that it has taken me this long to realize how wonderful you all are. I expressed in a previous post that I felt essentially unloved. I received a cold bucket of water on my head and a slap in my face. I am sorry for those whom I have hurt by what I said. I proved to everyone how much I was taking for granted and how much I was overlooking the people who were right in front of me, they have been there the whole time. I am still learning how to love. I have lost friends because I was unwilling to admit how much they cared and then gave up on them. I can only ask for forgiveness.

I wish that I could ever express my appreciation and endearment to each and every one of you.

I love you...

Still feeling like crap. my mind says a different word and I try to resist. It's becoming worse.

Today sucked. It was truly horrible. Here's why. The things that sucked, really sucked, bad. They hit hard. The good things that happened, well they're all of those little things in life that everyone says that you should look to, but in reality it's a strain to make it actually sound like a blessing. "Today I took the car to work and I didn't kill it once!" or "Today I woke up and I was sleeping on my red pillow and red is my favorite color! :)"

Now weigh that against, today I worked for eleven hours straight, with no lunch break, going on half of a dry bagel for breakfast. Work was really great when my stress levels peaked at all time highs and then everything started to break down and stop working. It was great when it took me thirty minutes to get home when normally it takes five. Then I spent the third night in a row home alone because I don't have the balls to drag myself out of this mire of self-pity and depression long enough to do something about my loneliness.

Why does it happen that when I am having a rough day I can bump into friend after friend, randomly, but on the days when I am feeling lower than ever, no one's there, at all? How can I pretend to be doing so well and simultaneously screw my life over?

I don't really want to be lifted out of this depression, It's familiar here. I don't think that I would even know what to do with pure happiness anymore, it's been a while. Quite emo, but as I said before, right now it's true.

The truly pathetic thing is that I might have discovered one of the main causes of much of my sadness, but I'm to stubborn to admit it or to change it. I don't want it to be true.

I'll be better later. Don't search too hard.