Meditations

2003-10-13T00:47:00.000-04:00

Social interaction is an odd thing. It is the way by which humans function, but at the same time, it is so inherently dishonest for all but a few people here or there. We are driven by the need for positive perceptions of ourselves and reputations, so we tend to blunt our true selves in search of a truly inoffensive character. Naturally this does not extend to all people, at least on the conscious level of realizing they do it, but for the most part, it has become a standard of my life.

In ways, the ability to engineer ourselves towards some purpose gives us an advantage. We get to portray all of our fine aspects and hide the poor ones, or perhaps even create entirely new aspects for the sake of show. This is a tad cynical, but the world is a tad cynical, what with the globalization of image and attached concepts. It is difficult to strictly and patiently adhere to anything these days, we are such a schizophrenic society. At the same time, we are told to be true to ourselves by the wisdom of literature and philosophy, but what we are shown day to day through commercialism is so entirely contradictory.

What I have fashioned for myself is an image that causes people to underestimate me, the proverbial jester, so to speak. I originally created this persona back when it was becoming common knowledge that I was elitist. I was not elitist, it just so happened that I was introverted and did not usually feel inclined to share certain things with people. I still do not feel inclined to do so, so instead I distill things through the device of humor. This may seem intellectually dishonest, and it likely is. I sometimes feel bad about being this way, but so it goes. My fashioned disguise has its down points, so I'll count that as my penance for not being entirely candid.

Being underestimated is a two-edged sword. At the same time, it is an advantage for me because it means that I can slide in under the radar, while also being the mechanism through which most mockery directed at me is created. That is a natural aspect of being underrated, but most of the time, the mockery still hurts me. Whether it be my pride or the understanding that I don't deserve it because I generally hold good intentions, I do not know. Usually it does not bother me too much, but sometimes when I am not in the mood for such things, it breaks down my external tendencies and brings back my natural inclination to be quiet and introspective.

To tell the truth, I'm torn over the mere discussion of these ideas. I wish I were not so conscious of my motivations for every single action and course I take, but I am bereft of spontaneity, it seems. Of course I do random things, all the time in fact, but they only really seem random. There is a tangible level of observation and execution in the things I do. I'd actually be interested in shedding my external appearances, if not for the fact I think they've become too ingrained on my own actions. Memory itself is easy to alter, physical memory and conditioning is another thing altogether.

These meditations are probably fruitless, and will likely only serve to muddle my own concepts, but for the purpose of my sanity, they have to be said periodically. Rituals and habits are some of the greatest driving forces of humanity, so who am I to break with tradition?

2003-10-11T00:40:00.000-04:00

Heads you live, tails you die.
Watch the copper piece gracefully fly.
Through the night air, lighted by moon
Your fate, it seems, will be decided soon.

Funny how life can be decided on whims,
By pieces of copper rolling 'round on their rims.

2003-09-30T22:41:00.000-04:00

I have once again passed this site by with a period of absence that is quite considerable. That is something I never intend, nor plan, to do, but somehow it always seems to keep occurring. I apologize. On another hand, I will be taking the tone and intent of my writing down an entirely new road altogether, if I can manage to maintain my intellectual dedication for more than a month at a time.

I have been back at college now for exactly one month. It has been, all things considered, a very good month of life. I have met again with all my college friends, I have three pleasant, if not interesting roommates and one of my very good friends from Auburn has chosen a path that has led him to the same college as I. Furthermore, I have begun to enjoy a level of popularity and activity which I have never experienced in my past. I am president of my dorm, officer in other organizations and an active student on campus.

However, I am still mildly dissatisfied with my life. Mostly because my moral sense of being has seemingly eroded from beneath me. And nothing in the conservative right sense of morality, but rather in the foundation of my principles. I have been having fun, but I question whether or not my actions have undermined the character of my being.

Thus, I give you my meditation. Marcus Aurelius had his meditations, as did Descartes. I'm sure that my use of the term will only highlight my intellectual inferiority relatively compared to those two great philosophers, but at least it will give me an angle. I have a headache now though, so I will relent from saying more till later.

2003-07-22T03:06:00.000-04:00

Actually, let me explain.

James Kilpatrick is a columnist for the Sun Journal, and probably several other papers in this country (on the order of 500, apparently), and writes editorials covering the national court system along with his less-widespread column called "The Writer's Art". This latter column appears Sundays on the Perspective Section backpage, a few rows underneath Dave Barry. To make a long story short, this man has caused me to loath a good number of aspects of the current literary academics. Among these aspects, elitism, arrogance and general nit-picking.

Mr. Kilpatrick writes this weekly article on his perceived felonies against the written word. Picking out such topics as redundancy in language and use of clichè in writing. This Sunday's article ripped to shreds the phrase "it remains to be seen", stating that any event that has not yet to occur remains to be seen, thus it is a pointless and amateurish phrase. He mocks several major and respectable publications for using such a phrase, and extends it to general literature and public figures. His egotistic assault on the phrase is one of the greatest examples of academic snobbery, that turn off the public to intellectuals and the like.

He ignores, for the sake of his petty and misguided abuse, the use of vernacular, and the fact that many people ill-use the english language as a means to be better comprehended by their peers. Contradictory sayings, enigmatic phrases and overused clichès compose a great part of our vernacular, regardless of Mr. Kilpatrick's exhortations and condemnations. It would seem that he would be better left to analysis of the courts, rather than extend the lawyer mentality to the quirks and foibles of the English and American language.

Mr. Kilpatrick, I use such phrases and sayings to increase the readability of my writing, rather than construct the impenetrable forcefield that you seem to expect of sophisticated literature. Every time I read a hopelessly pretentious and pedantic piece of writing, I shall think of you and your colleagues, and how you have befouled what otherwise might have been an enjoyable hobby or trade.

You should take tips on writing from the articles printed above yours, namely, those of Dave Barry. Because he sure as hell knows what he's doing better than you do.

-An Irate Reader

2003-07-21T01:03:00.000-04:00

Must find more natural method of writing.

Must not unintentionally mimic writers I read, thus rendering my work null.

Must find interesting subject, and apply style creatively to make subject worth reading about.

Must gain endurance to write a long time on such a subject and develop it.

Must learn to drop everything and write right when I have a good idea, instead of 'waiting till later'.

Must remain disdainful of James Kilpatrick and his literary fascism.

One down, several to go.

2003-07-20T00:41:00.000-04:00

Amusing Quote of the Day:

A little background. James is a friend of mine that works at Pizza Hut with me (oh, how I loathe to admit I work at Pizza Hut), and we do some pretty odd shit when we're bored. Hence, we've both pretty much progressed to our completely crude and callous methods of humor. Today, he came to work with a mild hangover and was bitching about it for a good portion of his shift. Boy, did he look like shit! His eyes were red, constantly half-closed against the fluorescent lights of the Hut, and it was fairly amusing to see him as such.

At one point, this happened-

James (speaking to me while I'm on the phone waiting for a customer to figure out what the fuck they want to eat, dumb bastards can't decide before they call): Hey, Nick, I'm gonna go get a shotgun, put it in my mouth and have you pull the trigger so I stop feeling like shit.

Nick (distracted and not really paying attention to what he is saying): You lazy bitch, use your fucking toe to pull the trigger.

I get the biggest kick out the fact I didn't even realize I was going to say it till I already had, so it was my natural response to a request for assisted suicide. We got a good laugh out of that.

Beyond that, I worked for 8 hours today, so I really don't have much else to relate. I'm almost finished Bluebeard, is about all.

2003-07-18T21:51:00.000-04:00

Something must be wrong with me and my brain ---
if I'm so patently unrewarding.
But my dreams are for dreaming and best left that
way --- and my zero to your power of ten equals
nothing at all.

Lately, I've been having difficulty writing on this site, though I've had multiple different ideas and thoughts to communicate to the precious few who might give a damn (at current estimate, I imagine maybe three people read this sporadically-updated pile of sod), I just haven't had the emotional gusto to do so. So it goes, oh well.

My bike was stolen, right out of my garage. I bought it at the beginning of summer and had ridden it maybe a half a dozen times. It cost me 75 bucks, and now it's gone. Just when I was beginning to think I lived in a decent neighborhood, humanity proves me wrong. It doesn't really bother me too much, seeing as how I had been forcing myself to ride it, without deriving the satisfaction from the activity that I used to derive as a kid. Apparently I've outgrown that also.

I've read 6 Kurt Vonnegut books in the past three weeks. Cat's Cradle, Player Piano, Breakfast of Champions, Timequake, Galapagos and Slaughterhouse Five(for the second time). Friends of mine, and some acquaintances, rightfully lauded him as one of the authors that I should begin reading. Something I don't understand though, most of those who recommended him told me to focus on his early work and only read his later work as an afterthought, because it had gotten so weird. I have read his first book (Player Piano) and his last (Timequake) and while I love both books, I like the writing style of late Vonnegut much more than early Vonnegut. It is also evident in Breakfast of Champions. I love his chaotic method of treating the world, it's so human.

Probably why my own attempts at writing have failed thus far, they haven't been true to my actual style, I've been trying to manufacture good tales. And while it is possible to manufacture good writing, it is so much easier if you're just honest with yourself.

Not to mention, I'm only 19. He wrote his first book in his late twenties when he was already married and possessing of children. He had been writing copy ads for an advertising firm. I can handle waiting and letting my skills develop independently. If I did too much now, I would just be parroting authors I read in school.

My mind is wandering though, I suppose I'm done for now. At least I posted.

2003-07-08T02:14:00.000-04:00

Resolutions of the Unrepentant Student

Over the past year or so, I have found my once strongly-held values and principles in life most profoundly attacked by the events and people around me. One of the true measures of virtue is remaining strongly behind your beliefs unless they are proven to be incontravertibly wrong. They have not been, but as is usually the case, the human conventions of pressure and the like bring a certain stress to bear, regardless of the validity of the preached methods. This is not me moralizing, because I honestly don't give a fuck if others adhere to them or not, but that is to be expressly mentioned later. These would do well to be restated.

1. No matter what, I will not cave in to the presently prevailing social ideas about education. Years ago, when I came into the appreciation of my academics, and what they would mean for my life, I created a standard that was both simple and pure, and in my view, ascendantly correct. When I first dedicated myself to a life of knowledge and intellectual exploration, I meant to pursue these routes through books, classes, comprehension and insightful reflection. I wish to digest what I was given, and turn it into a functional aspect of my life. These lofty aspirations did not include being the President of Student Government, joining a myriad other clubs, being the captain of the football team, baseball team, hockey team, etc. Most recently, I have begun to cede my simple and satisfying goals for the general mish-mash of stress-inducing schedule packing. This is not the life for me, and I almost forgot. And I am not disparaging those who do partake in such activities, I wish only to offer them a minor observation: Be careful before you assign them a higher priority than your primary aspect of education, your academic education.

2. As an extension of the first, I will continue to read voraciously, write unendingly and think forever upon my life. These are lonely habits, but I have no problem with that fact. I am, by nature, a loner. Extended social interaction makes me distracted, unpleasant and generally uninteresting to talk to. When I wish to interact, I can be a funny and caring person to be around, but there is no reason to pollute the whole by abusing its limitations. I will not pay mind to any snide remarks, labeling me as anti-social, a shut-in or closed and cold. My friends, my true friends that is, my family and I will understand the reality. I need not pander to the excesses of extroverted culture. I am content with introversion, as it suits me better anyway.

3. As I will not change my personality or my goals, I will also halt attempting to change my image. Over the past year, I have sported a variety of hair styles, clothing styles, aesthetic styles and the like. I need only realize that how I wish myself to appear is all that really matters, since attempting to impress others tends to fall on deaf ears and closed minds as it is. If it so behooves me, I will wear my hair well-combed but unimpressive, I will wear whatever completely fucked up combination of clothes I happen to fall into any particular day of the week, and I will wear my glasses when I feel like it, and I will wear my contacts when I feel like it. Whatever works, works.

4. I will cease moderating my social, political and personal views to appeal to the consensus opinions of the people I spend time with. More often than not, as I've so sadly discovered, if you disagree with a person in any abstract realm of reality, they will defend their views without the slightest hint of civility. Such is the case at college, such is the case at home. That, and too often people assume you are pitifully ignorant if you don't see their clarion way of thinking. Many people have difficulty seeing both sides of the coin. Rather than succumb to the agreeing nature that most friendships seem to be founded on these days, I'll state my case and if responded to in a manner unbecoming of rational discussion, I will let them founder without my presence. Most people can vouch for me, I rarely get flustered during debate, and I never tell someone they are stupid for an opinion they hold. Maybe I am feckless, maybe I am fair, whatever works. I'm a radical centrist. Liberals don't agree with me and call me a Conservative dupe. Conservatives don't agree with me and call me a Liberal dupe. 9 times out of 10, each side is so mindlessly polarized it doesn't fucking matter, so deal with it.

5. If I become successful, it will be a function of my skills, knowledge and motivation. Not because of my connections, lust for money or ability to suck up. I think that if I settled for a life like that, I would truly lose the soul of my thought and reason, choosing to shuffle away my dignity and usefulness and the like, for such an empty end. If I am to jump through hoops to accomplish something, I will not do so unless it is clearly a test of my ability. I am no one's circus sealion, to trumpet the horn when it amuses them for me to do so. For this, I will probably never be successful, but such is life.

6. I will never go insane. I used to think that my friends and I were the ones that were completely insane, since we were so different from the rest of the breed. I was wrong. We were the sane ones, we always had been. We could look at life and see it for what it was, we could criticize openly and avoid most of the melodrama associated with the general course of human development. I now realize that if we violate any of the preceding sacrosanct resolutions, we will lose our sanity. We will become like the rest of the people in the world, or at least in the principally bereft good ol' USA. We would become consumer whores, shuffling off for our 9-5 every day. Looking for our parking spots endlessly, toiling through the incessant buzz of the doldrums. We would be crazy to accept such a life. I have my friend Ben to thank for this observational truth about life. Through all of his misanthropy and cynicism, he is still predominantly right when it comes to what happens to us. We may all become cynical, but at least we'll have our rational freedom and sanity.

I had to say it. It may make no difference, but at least I'll have historical data to show to my kids one day.

"Look guys, some time, long ago, your Dad knew what the fuck he was doing."

2003-07-06T01:28:00.000-04:00

Last night, my country celebrated her 227th birthday. Which means she's a pretty old and snarly bitch by our terms, but by the terms of comparison to other nations, she's a veritable spring chicken.

I spent the evening in a sweaty hot pizzeria, down on Minot Ave. I had wanted the night off to spend with my friends, most importantly to wish one friend well as he set off for a month and a half excursion to Quebec City. He's going there to learn French, I'm staying here to mire further into the subpar standards of lower class life. So it goes.

Anyway, she celebrated her 227th birthday, quite the accomplishment in any realm. Here we call it the "Fourth of July", which really has nothing to do with her birthday anymore. As is usually the case with holidays birthed in the distant past, it has become sanitized and almost irrelevant given it's original purpose. Most people who celebrate it do not understand anything about it except the bare basics, and that is a very shoddy thing to base a nationalistic feeling on.

227 years ago, a creative bunch of human beings came together to fight against another group of human beings with ideas. These groups did not include the people that were going to actually fight over the ideas, in the physical realm, except for a few generals here and there, but they were the ones who caused it. The first group wanted independence of the second group, and they wanted their own nation, called the "United States", and so they put it down in writing. The day it was finalized was July 4th, 1776, and the first group of human beings became the founding fathers of my nation, of the snarly bitch.

These founding fathers, all human beings colored white with outboard sexual organs, also were the predominant theoretical voices on the subjects of freedom and liberty. They spoke very convincingly on this topic, to win popular support from the masses so their cause would be fought for. They used the same method years later when the Constitution was constructed. These human beings wrote compellingly on the topics of inalienable human rights, that each being deserves to be socially and politically free, able to determine their own course. They won over their popular support, and they won their great nation, which they naturally took the helm at.

Oddly enough, these human beings kept other human beings as servants without pay, without consent, that is to say, made them slaves. They did this because this new category of human beings had black-colored skin. The inalienable rights were not extended to these other human beings at this time, nor the time of the Constitution. In fact, it wasn't until almost a hundred years later that they informally gained these rights, and almost another hundred before possessing them became relevant. And so on.

So the human beings that these inalienable rights applied to possessed white skin and white skin only. The option may have been extended to the copper-skinned humans, but they were all killed when the white-skinned ones came over on big boats and declared already occupied land to be theirs. So it goes. Out of these white-skinned free people, only the ones with outboard sexual equipment were given full rights, as offered by the inalienable rights so tantalizingly written about. That meant that all of the humans without their outboard aperture also became second class citizens. Such is life. Furthermore, only those white-skinned, out-board possessing humans with little slips of paper granting them lordship over the land they had stolen had the full rights given. That meant all those unlucky humans without these slips of paper were also second class citizens. So it goes.

When it got down to it, the only people that received the inalienable rights offered by this exciting new republic were the white-skinned, outboard-posessing, slip-owning human beings. The black-skinned ones were only expected to die fighting for it, and then later die fighting for those same inalienable rights almost two hundred years later. The non-outboard-possessing humans got their rights before the black-skinned ones, in the early 1900's. They didn't have to die as much, though, because they were considered weak compared to the outboard-possessing humans, and this was also pretty much untrue naturally, just made true by the most common way things are made true, by repetition. The copper-skinned ones never really gained their rights, most of them died. The survivors got little reservations and the occasional casino. And so on.

Taking all of this with a grain of salt, also considering all the contemporary events of politics and the like, it is difficult to derive much pure, patriotic pleasure from her 227th birthday. I've come to the determination that it would be better to go insane with the rest of humanity and forget what her birthday is all about, and only remember the jingoistic implications and flag-waving. Between original sin and modern breach of law, international and domestic alike, it is hard to be proud. But I will take solace in the fact that in the least, she was founded on the tenets of allowed dissent, to create social progress. Through my own dissent, maybe I can feel patriotic.

Of course, I'm a white-skinned, outboard-possessing human being, so I might be a little biased.

2003-06-21T23:42:00.000-04:00

It turns out, that after calculating my student bill for next year, taking into account my current financial aid, there will be a gap of 1,400 dollars that will not be covered.

Time to tighten my belt. Again. Also time to bust out the myriad scholarship applications and pray.

It's not that I won't be able to cover it, I will. It's just that it will utterly drain my savings, trying meekly to recover after the last school year, and I wouldn't mind actually having some kind of constant safety net. To deal with future car troubles for example. If my car shit its transmission right now, I would be up the creek, so to speak.

I should be able to pull it off, though. I hope.

Since I'm at least somewhat on the subject, I have managed to get my affairs and priorities into somewhat of an order. The first year of college obscured some of the more important details of these, and I felt fairly bad about it afterward.

1. Friends and Family.
2. Scholarly Excellence.
3. Financial Security.
4. Dating.

After 5 months of dedicating myself to the last option, one overwhelming thought came to my mind: "This isn't so great." And it really wasn't. I mean, it was interesting and all, but no more so than any other facet of life and definitely not as important as the essentials. College relationships, much like high school relationships, seem to be to a greater or lesser extent, ephemeral. That is to say, insubstantial, unless you get incredibly lucky in your draw. The frivolous nature of most dating has never appealed to me, I've never been one versed eloquently in the ways of deceit and trickery, put towards a depressingly basic purpose.

Furthermore, coming home from 8 months away has highlighted how much my life here means to me. That may sound hopelessly pathetic, and in the words of my friend Ben, tagging me as a 'lifer', but that honestly does not bother me. The friends and family I possess here outweigh those I have tentatively made in college, and will continue to do so for ages. The atmosphere of college friendship is just different, so much driven by competition and individuals doggedly staking their claim in life. Friends of old know who you are, accept you for who you are, and embrace who you are. There is too much pretending and small talk among college friends, for now at least. I hope that it will change, because if the landscape of adulthood is defined by these half-friendships, it must be a very depressing lot indeed.

The same goes for family, as reticent I am to admit it. My family, more or less, is more pleasant than the average modern family it seems. We are tied together through mutual sarcasm, bred by my own cynicism, and an excellent sense of humor. There are undercurrents of more insidious power struggles going on, as teenagers try to assert their independence from adults that do not want to let go quite yet. But the good, again, outweighs the bad, and I'll accept it as is.

My education has always been of supreme importance in my life, and truly it will probably detonate some of my other ambitions before they have a chance to breathe. As I learn more about the world and its workings, I am less willing to dive right in to the process itself, because the stakes are ludicrously high. That is why I am always afraid of leaders who do not hesitate in their actions, it is a sign of not realizing the gravity of certain situations. I could make a good informer, educator and scholar myself, but I more or less have the feeling I will remain out of the public spotlight. I am too uncomfortably attuned to reality as it is.

The old adage, the more you know, the less happy you are, seems unfortunately true. Another odd contradiction of life.

2003-06-15T01:13:00.000-04:00

My next college year will officially kick ten times more ass than it already would have, my excellent friend Zach will be sojourning with me to the University of Maine.

I'm positively giddy.

Beyond that, though, it's 1am and I'm frankly quite tired.

2003-06-13T00:48:00.000-04:00

The Stormwatch brews a concert of kings as the white sea snaps at the heel of a soft prayer...
whispered...

I have not listened to that song in a long time, and I think I have lost touch with the values that it represented for me back in the day, whatever they may have been. My values were greatly chaotic, and they didn't make sense most of the time, but dammit, they worked for me. Now I'm confused about most things, regardless of my supposedly enlightening education. I guess it's true that the more you learn, the more you realize you don't know.

If you had asked me two years ago if I would be pleased with what I have now, I would have quickly answered in the affirmative. I would have been thrilled with the concept of a near-4.0 (3.95, damn sciences), full tuition coverage, developed focus of study and the information I have gained in these past two years. For some reason, it doesn't seem to satisfy me, so I'm beginning to wonder about myself and human nature, at the same time. I figure it's a function of human nature that we are never fully pleased with our current lots, that we always see the bad first, but it seems to extreme in this example. More credibly, do I possess too much of a psychotic ambition, but also crippling self-criticism, to ever be pleased with where I am.

It's a sobering thought, and probably an irrational product of my insane tendency to overanalyze everything I do in my life. That's the reason why it is so difficult for me to approach new people, because I am analyzing every possible contingency of my actions. I rarely ever get a chance to actually enact the actions to create the consequence. A nice irony.

But as it relates to my education, I can see myself not being fully at fault, nor human nature. Rather, I can easily blame the shifting and highly contradictory paths that acceptable education has taken over the past few years. A few years ago, it was simply accepted that getting good grades was the definition of getting a good education, maybe with a few hobbies on the side. However, these days it appears that the pressure has shifted from academics to extracurriculars, things like student government, social organizations and public services. It's hard to deal with such a rapid shift, essentially being told "Thanks for playing, but your way is the wrong way."

Hi, I'm Nick. I'm a near-4.0 student at a decent University, and I am a poor student.

It's a vexing matter altogether, and one with understandable aspects. Extraacademic affairs are important in development, I just don't think that the emphasis given to them is fair. It seems that traditional modes of knowledge are being phased out for the quick-fix technocracy of modern education. This year, my sister in eighth grade went the whole year without a history course. How is that even possible? Our greatest scholars have always advised that understanding how we came to be where we are is half the battle, how else are we to gain significant perspective? Without the bigger picture, we're just being bred as swiss army knives for a business world headed at breakneck speeds towards intellectual stagnation.

It's ironic, during the Renaissance, sciences were scorned and overshadowed by the liberal arts and humanities. Now the opposite has happened, and it is just as unjust as the former circumstance.

But because I believe in what I do, I will continue through it with my method. It may not yield the greatest return possible, but I don't think I should be forced to whore out my principles for an empty concept of what it means to be successful.

Which means I am trodding down the path of the starving humanist. Sad, but true.

2003-06-12T01:20:00.000-04:00

Actually, one last thought that just came to me, and probably explains why I don't have more dates:

"You know, girls never say 'I love it when you speak self-deprecatingly to me, take me now!'"

I'm apparently insane, though.

2003-06-12T01:13:00.000-04:00

Okay, well it seems that this site is updating once again and no longer mired in endless troubles, so I will make a human effort to add some content.

The effort will be human mostly because it will be half-hearted and unreliable.

For the first time in months, my link section is working, so I have provided links to a couple nifty sites. The New Republic is arguably one of the better, more balanced political periodicals of our time, and has several articles put up daily online, with no costs attached. Pragmatism is a shameless plug for my own political commentary site, which will also be seeing an influx in content in the coming weeks. Penny Arcade is just a hilarious, though shamelessly violent, webcomic about video gamers. More will probably be added in the future.

That being said, I am finally enjoying summer after a rigorous year in college. I say 'rigorous' because I supplemented my course curriculums with about a dozen other books, and freelance writing on the side. The meager existence of academics is quite shameful right now, and most of it can be blamed on the irrational extracurricular fad. The one thing I'll never understand about extracurriculars, is that they are rationalized as a boon because they teach us social interaction. Perhaps I am giving too much credit to the human race to think that social interaction should come naturally. Jesus tapdancing Christ on a crutch.

What's more, is that 90% of these extracurriculars are essentially useless and have no application to the way the real world functions. They are formed of students, either psychotically-organized, or shiftlessly trying to boost their resumes, with every intention but to contribute meaningfully. These intentions are mostly selfish, so maybe they are learning something they can apply.

But I am feeling too cynical this fine eve (morning?) to write constructively myself.

2003-06-12T00:54:00.000-04:00

According to my friend Matt, blogger rejects changes like a pig heart.

I think the analogy is apt.

2003-04-10T20:29:00.000-04:00

Here we go.

I.

My name is Robert. Robert Timothy. Actually, Robert Andrew Timothy, to be entirely precise. Some people call me Robert. Some call me Rob or Robbie. And some call me Rob-Tim. I'm sure you can understand that this last group of people is not exactly my favorite group, so to speak. I'm one of those people who has a fun name, the kind that have not one, not two, but three first names. You can imagine what kind of hell that was growing up.

I work at SilCo, a large technological/engineering conglomerate. We make the parts that people put into their computers to either make it faster, work more smoothly or not blow up nearly as fast. Sadly, we seem to fail at most of these endeavors, oddly maintaining quite healthy profits all the while. I tend to suspect our accounting firm for this supernatual phenomena, but I don't really know too much beyond what I need to know, which isn't that much. You see, I'm a technical writer and consultant for the company. My job is to take the incredibly complex user specifications and engineering jargon and turn it into something that is vaguely understandable for the average consumer. As you can probably guess from your own experience with user manuals, I manage to fail most of the time at this endeavor, while not doing poorly enough to be fired by my rather unpleasant boss. The job is hell, and it doesn't look like it will be getting better anytime soon. The only real rationale I have for why I don't quit and find something better lies in the fact that I have already tried to find something better, and I have failed miserably at that also. As you can probably guess, failure tends to be one of my strongest suits. At least the job pays well, unless of course I am cannon fodder for the next round of layoffs that are bound to happen anytime now.

I'm 34 years old, slightly balding and the years are finally beginning to show up on my gut, which for the first time in a long time, is starting the long descent down as a result of gravity. I'm unmarried, and I never have been in my life. No children to speak of (at least that I know of), and all the company I keep is usually my mutt, Wally. Wally isn't the smartest dog, which is probably a product of years of vigorous inbreeding with animals I can only define as 'caninesque', as he doesn't really resemble a dog so much as an overgrown hamster of a sort. He isn't the smartest dog, but he is loyal, and good company, even if he does forget every so often to wait until a door is opened before he attempts to bound through it. My family all lives considerably distant from my current location, which happens to be St. Paul, Minnesota. They're back in my native Rhode Island, scattered in a locus around the epicenter of Providence. Of course, everything in Rhode Island is close to Providence, given the fact one could walk the length of the entire state in roughly 10 hours. Actually, I'm probably making that up, not that I'm ever going to try and find out what it actually is.

My point is, things used to be different. I used to have all my hair, all my prospects and all my hopes and dreams ahead of me. I'm not entirely sure what happened from point A to point B, but it can't be good, as it has incontravertibly led to this muted, dull existence I call life. I distinctly remember being brilliant at one point of time or another, one of the people of the great potential to make a difference, which was one of the glorious lies that my generation was fed. The truth is, I never had a chance, and I was just too caught up in my own grandeur to realize it. I suppose I'm getting ahead of myself, though, ironically something I never achieved in reality. I guess I just can't help but try to rationalize why my life has ended up being reduced to writing user manuals for a sprawling, faceless organization. I don't even like my company, but I guess that just goes to the fundamental problem I've had in life. I was always reaching for something I would never get. A bitter pill to swallow in and of itself.

Anyhow, this is how I got to this point. Maybe you can avoid the same fate for my sake.

2003-04-04T21:21:00.000-05:00

I believe I am incapable of having fun.

It's a sobering realization, though it is one I have suspected for quite some time now. I thought that going to college would alleviate it, but I was wrong. I thought that if I joined groups, got a job and tried to do more things on the weekends it would change, I was wrong again. It's so frustrating I feel an incredible urge to shout to get the sensation out.

I remember now why I stopped going to any sort of party functions in high school. I just stand there. The entire time. I cannot fraternize with people I have known for less than years, and when I do, it sounds superficial, contrite and forced. I cannot express how difficult it is for me to simply strike up a conversation with a person, it requires solid weeks of mulling over the possibilities and eventually discarding the notion, most of the time. I feel more right just reading a book and forgetting the fact that speaking skills are necessary to most human beings.

The thing is, since it takes me so long to actually talk to a person frankly, there are no people at college I feel I can talk to. Having no computer usage 99% of the time has made it further difficult to live any semblance of a life. The few people I do talk to on a regular basis, I use my default fake speech, trying not to sound too moronic while doing so. I've found that if you pepper your speech with random phrases, people will only think you're insane instead of coming to the inescapable conclusion that you're about as interesting to talk to as a brick.

So I sit here on a Friday night full of possibilities, in front of a Union Cluster Computer while most of my friends are at the spring fling events. Sure, I tried to go, but I just stood there and didn't do anything. I even helped set up a benefit dance about a quarter of a mile away from the place for my International Affairs group, but I left once it started because I felt out of place.

I always feel out of place.

I'm still mostly content with life, but it's that tenuous, anxious kind of contentment, the kind that says "I hope things will get more interesting, this is so bloody dull."

And I've read all of the books I've brought to school with me, except for Nietszche, and I doubt he would much make me feel better.

I have the crawling and painful suspicion that I will end up like Amory Blaine, at the crossroads of life without direction, and only doubting. Will I only know myself after all these years?

I cringe to think about it.

2003-04-01T17:41:00.000-05:00

I am officially falling off the planet. I'll make it short, as I have an appointment in less than 15 minutes, one which I need to keep.

*My computer is broken and costs too much to repair currently.
*I have to use community clusters.
*These cluster computers lock out messenger programs and most of my favorite websites.
*My job hours have doubled in the past week.
*I have recently returned from a DC trip, which utterly destroyed my sleep cycles.
*The DC trip still kicked ass.
*Rounding up, I will be absent much of the next 6 weeks before summer vacation.

Oh well.

I should have been angry when my computer broke down, since it is new, but I just feel famously tired. It's sort of like being told that your shoelaces are untied after running the Boston Marathon, you've probably fallen down and hurt yourself a lot, but you're too tired to care at the moment. Coincidentally, having no computer has not hindered my writing, but I have merely become a nomadic writer, uploading my work to my roving FC account so I can access it wherever. That, and my Rezendes essay is finally done.

Life is oddly disconcerting right now, but it's too hectic to be noticed at the moment. When my brain finally settles in a week or two, I'll likely snap like a dried twig underneath the pressure of a passing, malevolent tricycle.

I need to go, though. At least tonight I'll have respite from 7pm onward.

-Nick, the ragged.

2003-03-14T21:53:00.000-05:00

She made you tea, asked for your autograph,
What a laugh.

Haven't been able to write for a few days now, and now the pressure is wearing on me to finish my essay on the influence of Campaign Finance in politics. A relatively dry topic, but nonetheless, an easy one to write on. I have these countless great angles to work from, but every time I begin to write, they all mash together. Continuity is a problem. I hate it when my ability to write is impaired. Maybe it'll be better once I'm back at the solitude of my dorm room.

Been reading F. Scott Fitzgerald recently. His complex and aristocratic style seems to speak to me, or at least offer me some style of writing that I can sympathize more closely with. Some of the characters in This Side of Paradise are too similar to me for comfort. Not necessarily a bad thing, but not all that good, all the same.

But after reading Milton and Shelley's source material for Frankenstein, it is a casual reprieve from heavy literature. I figure that once I'm done this, I get to move on to the book "Stupid White Men", which is essentially political soapbox oratory. Another step down in sophistication and moving steadily into the realm of sensationalism and shock value. Not my favorite ground to tread. Maybe my IAA group will take my suggestion for a book of the month next time.

My back and shoulders hurt. I guess I shouldn't overdo the hammer weights next time.

S’io credesse che mia risposta fosse
A persona che mai tornasse al mondo,
Questa fiamma staria senza piu scosse.
Ma perciocche giammai di questo fondo
Non torno vivo alcun, s’i’odo il vero,
Senza tema d’infamia ti rispondo.

For I have known them all already, known them all:—
Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons,
I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;
I know the voices dying with a dying fall
Beneath the music from a farther room.
So how should I presume?

2003-03-12T22:14:00.000-05:00

I feel a slight drifting, a couple thoughts remiss of logic.
I feel a freedom, inexpressible by all except the dark heart of the night.

Abstract thought is some of the most satisfying. It can take whatever form that is pleasing at the time, heartfully defy personal definition and confuse the hell out of other people. It is the absurdity that sometimes defines us, or the moment, and gives particular meaning to something. It is the moment that we do not feel compelled to self-examination and simply relax with the way things are.

So that is for future reference. The source of my relative tranquility lies in the fact I do not restrain the absurd with fear of being questioned, pertaining to sanity or propriety.

When you don't care about your sanity, life is so much easier and relaxing.

Let us go then, you and I,
When the evening is spread out against the sky...

2003-03-11T21:38:00.000-05:00

I have quite a few guilty pleasures in my life, some of them guiltier than the others, in a manner of speaking.

Oddly enough, the guilty pleasures are not the ones I tend to regret.

And the wheel spins on.

2003-02-24T21:06:00.000-05:00

Brown furrow shine
beneath the rain washed blue.
Bright crystal streams
from eagle mountains born.
Fortune has smiled on those who wake anew,
within this fortress nature built
to stay the hand of war.

Don't take those lyrics as some sort of abstract anti-war message, I'm about at the end of my rope regarding people wielding uninformed, utopian opinions like a strongarm wields a bludgeon.

I'm feeling tired right about now, probably due to the fact that I stay up until 2am on Sunday nights to catch my favorite Comedy Central shows. Why they put them on at that time, eludes me currently. But then again, I haven't exactly been lucid much today to realize reasons for things.

My lab exam in geology was funny in a painful sort of way. I wasn't too worried about it, and it wasn't so bad, but they certainly chose an interesting environment to test our knowledge. When one has to name 15 rock and mineral samples and explain why they are what they are in a timed test of less than 10 minutes, one must take a brighter outlook on things or go insane. The only comparable experience I can reference is the South Park episode where the German fellow is holding a Luger to Stan's head saying "Und BEAR?" and "Do it again!...faster..." and chambers a round. It's funny and politically incorrect, hence it works for me.

Actually, I started feeling kind of dirty today, as I realized I actually like No Doubt's music. This goes against every central tenet of my non-mainstream, obscure musical tastes. Oh well, I guess I can branch out to something besides hardcore Jethro Tull.

I still feel dirty, though.

But I am tired, and putting off homework that will soon be rendered moot, so I will dispose of it presently.

2003-02-22T22:25:00.000-05:00

You wake up in the morning, get something for the pot
Wonder why the sun makes the rocks feel hot
Draw on the walls, eat, get laid
Back in the good old days

Then some damn fool invents the wheel
Listen to the whitewalls squeal
You spend all day looking for a parking spot
Nothing for the heart, nothing for the pot.

Bad week. Stress from tests combined with lack of sleep for most of the time made it a rather interesting endeavor. Along with Job training and extracurriculars (Oh, say it ain't so, Nick.), it was a highly colorless and joyless week. This, of course, conspired to put me into a sour, contentious state of mind, whereupon I snapped at my roommates on several occasions over minute issues. I always take things so personally when I'm reaching the end of my rope.

I still haven't gotten my letter from the college recognizing the fact I made Dean's List and Presidential Pin, sorta makes me yearn for the highly underappreciation of my high school days. I never dreamed the academic achievement would be so callously disregarded at our highest levels of education, it's a good thing that the work grants satisfaction, otherwise I might tend to be pissed.

I seem to have found my niche at college in the form of a couple close friends and a hovering group of acquaintance satellites. Pretty much the same system I had in high school until it devolved to a tight-knit group of six in my senior year. It is a comfortable environment, one I can deal with. I miss my friends from high school dearly, simply in the way that they understand me more so than anyone here does. When introduced into a new situation, one tends to furnish a new outward personality to best suit the circumstances. In this case, that is what I have done again, weeding out those who have no interest in eventually discovering what lies beneath. It's fun, in a sense, but also trying and frustrating in another. Evidenced by the fact that I scared the hell out of a person last night by showing The Wall to a group of people.

But that was kinda fun in its own way.

I'm becoming increasingly frustrated with my political orientations, and the close-mindedness of those around me. I can appreciate well-ordered, reasonable opinions based in one part of the political spectrum or another, but not the crap that pervades society currently. Right now, it seems like a universal pissing contest to destroy the credibility of the opponent while superficially inflating one's own position, and it's breeding a generation of sycophants that are extreme to embarrassing levels, and uninformed to boot. I'm used to the rigamarole of liberal hate towards conservatives and conservative disdain towards liberals, but I'm getting sick of being hesitant to announce my political orientations and be regarded with something that can only be defined as resentment. Whatever happened to judging the individual for the core competency of their opinions and beliefs? Nowadays, it's all a sad generalization encapsulated in a soundbite produced for a generation that has no patience or attention span to digest anything more complex, or god forbid, accept that they may be wrong or at least need to moderate their views.

I swear, people these days. More concerned with the image of Nikes and colas than their own social well-being or that of those surrounding them. Never before have we existed in such an apathetic state, and it's becoming harder and harder to counteract it. We might as well be tending towards a corporate rather than a political state.

Speaking of which, I encourage everyone to purchase and read the book Jennifer Government by Max Barry. It's like Brave New World, except instead of genetic uniformity and supremacy, it has to do with corporate and business uniformity and supremacy. Gives a rather nice extrapolation of what may happen if our current system of transnational corporate organizations continues. Kind of scary, too.

Well, seeing as I still have to read a chapter in Comparative Politics (The French, kill me now) and continue my weightlifting regimen (Don't laugh) and it's already 10:23, I figure I shall sign off for the current time.

Expect another prompt update by the year 2005!

2003-02-06T23:23:00.000-05:00

Oh, sunshine --- take me now away from here
I'm a needle on a spiral in a groove.
And the turntable spins
as the last waltz begins
And the weather-man says
something's on the move.

And for every turn that makes sense, an accompanying turn just doesn't match up to logic. Less than two weeks after starting the semester, and less than a week after being dumped, another girl is expressing interest rather persistently. It just baffles me, but oh well.

I've finally begun one of my major works in planning over the past two years - a social critique of educational institutions from multiple points of view. I know, it sounds exciting, but you have to wait till it's out in hardcover to buy it and read it.

...

Yes, I realize the pathetic nature of having one of my major works being something that no one besides myself or a few people interested in the field will ever read, but so be it. It's something I enjoy (for some goddamn reason), so I'm gonna do it, dammit. Such is the winter of many academics discontent these days, as the public becomes less and less well-read and we are eventually left in the dust of yesteryear.

But as of now, my well of inspiration hath runneth dry, and I must depart for the eve.

2003-02-04T14:49:00.000-05:00

In the last hours of a sunset rendezvous ---
chill breeze against tide, that carries me from you.
Got a job in a southern city --- got some lead-free in my tank.
Now I must whisper goodbye --- I'm bound for the mainland.

And here I am again.

It's been over half a year since I last updated this site. I have long since given up on the idea that people still check it, or will ever notice I've begun again without me informing them. I do not know why I stopped updating, maybe because it seemed like a trite activity at the time, when my life changed permanently from those high school daze to the radical difference of college. Maybe I wanted to spend the last months with my friends and family, or at least intend to do so, but as is usual with summer, the free time I had anyway was both substantial and seemingly constant. While in my first semester of college, I didn't bother because I was firmly entrenched in a direly serious attitude towards college, working constantly and leaving my free time to savor the simple relaxation. There was a lot of that again, as I haven't joined any college groups (yet), and my friends and girlfriend weren't always able to do stuff.

Ah yes, my girlfriend.

A foreign concept, no doubt, to anyone who spends a full six seconds perusing my archives. Trust me, I felt the same when it happened, and even more so by the fact it was a seemingly painless process until the end. And there was an end, nothing spectacular or scandalous beyond what I've come to expect from this highly cynical and superficial world. It lasted five months, and it wouldn't have lasted six had I possessed the axe to cleave it short, almost gladly she pre-empted me. She had been seeing a guy for a week during a span where she avoided me for two full weeks, I wasn't surprised. Nor was I that upset.

That is the most quizzical part of this whole equation, because it doesn't fit my description in the slightest. Despite my most frequent denial of social traditions, I have always viewed relationships, at least in proper conduct, on tradition and common human decency. Maybe my view as such has been significantly eroded since then, which would be sadly ironic since I attend one of the most liberal universities in my state. I knew I wasn't going to fit into that kind of atmosphere, as I am not that liberal. Neither am I conservative, I choose to disdain both political inclinations equally. I suppose in terms of social alignment I am liberal.

I spent the first semester working hard, I swept the all of my classes, never getting less than an 'A' on any single assignment. 4.0s seem rare here, as my roommates expressed amazement at the prospect. I came to learn at that point that colleges fail to recognize good, academic students even more than high schools do, so it came and went without a sound. That didn't bother me, as for the first time in my life I was actually enjoying what I was learning. I still am, and that in itself is creating a conflict in what I intend to major in and do with the rest of my life. Don't laugh, first years feel probably as much pressure as the rest of the college students, and it has been intensified for me as I now have sophomore standing, soon to be junior standing, after only two semesters.

That being said, I don't know what to make of my college life so far, either in regard to the social nature or the educational nature. I have good friends whom I enjoy spending time with here, along with great friends back at home every time I visit. Ever since coming to college, my personal will to be better has quickly expanded. I've even gone so far as to start working out lifting weights, and am now developing at least a modicum of strength and greater endurance. It is an odd experience for girls to be hitting on me, since that has probably been the most improbably concept in my mind since day one.

And no, my writing style hasn't become ingratiatingly sentimental and reflective, I'm just feeling mellow today.

But for now, that is all.

2002-07-28T01:08:00.000-04:00

Okay, so this is friggin' weird. Apparently, my car has no problems with the electrical system or more specifically, the alternator. As I already knew, the front end wheel drive system needs to be replaced, but that wouldn't prevent the car from starting. Just to make sure that the appointment wasn't a waste of thirty dollars, I decided to have them replace all my engine compartment's belts (Which were badly cracked in the first place.)

This interesting dialogue took place when I got a call back from Pep Boys after the engine/electrical diagnostic:

Me: Hello?
Pep Boys Mechanic: Hello, Mr. Nick Laverty?
Me: Yes, that's right.
PBM: You brought in the '92 Sable, correct?
Me: Yes, how'd it go?
PBM: We found no problems with your car.
Me: What? That makes no sense, it wouldn't start for 12 hours.
PBM: Well, the electrical system was running perfectly, and the car started fine all the times we tried it.
Me: So everything's fine? The car would pass inspection and will run fine again?
PBM: No.
Me: Huh?
PBM: Your drive shaft is all screwy and you need your belts replaced.
Me: I thought you said my car was perfectly fine.
PBM: Well, except for those things.
Me: How much will that cost total to fix?
PBM: Around $400.
Me: $400 of "not fine" just slipped your mind?
PBM: Yes, but your car's fine!
Me: *slaps forehead* Just replace the belts for now. Any idea what caused the start malfunction?
PBM: No!
Me: No?
PBM: No, there's nothing wrong that would prevent starting.
Me: Then why didn't it start?
PBM: Dunno.
Me: You don't know?
PBM: Yep.
Me: Did you check everything?
PBM: Yes, it's all fine. Except for the $400 that's not.
Me: Alright, just fix the belts, how long will that take.
PBM: An hour?
Me: Alright, an hour then.

*hangs up*

*3 hours pass*

I answer the phone again...

Me: Hello?
PBM: This Nick Laverty?
Me: Yes.
PBM: You own a '92 Sable?
Me: Yes. Is it done?
PBM: Yup, it's fine and ready for pick up.
Me: It's fine? I thought you said the drive shaft was still messed up?
PBM: Well, there's always that...

Oi. Makes you want to smack someone around thoroughly.

2002-07-27T01:08:00.000-04:00

Well, things had been going just delightfully. Oh yes, life was a hoot, a constant party, a veritable laugh-o-rama, I was hooked on feeling.

Then my fucking car broke.

I've been driving the damn thing for a bloody week. A WEEK! I bought the contraption about a month ago, finally dealt with the paperwork because the people I bought it from lost everything possible. So it's driving smoothly, then one day it doesn't start. It wasn't the battery, it was lights left on overnight. It was the goddamn alternator, which will cost 100 bucks to fix, minimum. MINIMUM. So that's more cash sunk into the damn thing, god knows how long after this is fixed it will take for another thing to break.

Oh well.

Besides that, it's been a couple of decent weeks. I'm going to get some time off from work so I can go up to a friend's camp for a couple relaxing days. Beyond that, I am also getting a couple other free days. Despite the fact that most of my monetary resources will be depleted, I should have suitable funds saved up for independent life (A little over a month till moving day, how depressing).

This also lends me a rather ironic view of life, given the fact that this has been the best couple months in recent memory. I'm closer friends with everyone and have even made a couple other friends. Even though all my groups of friends are geographically disorganized, I still see them weekly, pretty much. It has been a good time, overall. And now that I am entirely comfortable with the way my life and things are, with a solid foundation set for future exploits, everything will be completely erased and started anew. How bloody ironic. Bah.

Well, better to live well if only for a limited period than to not live at all. I just look sadly forward to the changes that are coming.

Well, I've exhausted content from the past few days, so time to make stuff up!

Random Album Review: Jethro Tull's Rock Island

Yes, I can literally hear you all sighing and rolling your eyes. No worries, album reviews will be based on different bands than just Tull, but how better to kick it off?

Rock Island, one of the few 80's albums by Tull worth mentioning in the same breath as their past efforts (Stormwatch, A and Crest of the Knave were alright, but not spectacular.), deals with a rather radical transformation from past styles. Each song is quite different, varying from more folkish efforts (Another Christmas Song) to heavier classic rock (Big Riff Mando). The album overall has more good songs than bad, and the bad songs aren't even that irritatings. I'll give a rundown of the top three, in order of quality, with reasoning. I'll also name an honorable mention and the worst song on the album.

Best Song on the Album: No question on this one, Ears of Tin is dynamic, lyrically evocative and creative in instrumentals. You know how some songs contain lines that just seem to stir up sentimental reactions, ones that make you think of the good things about life? Ears of Tin has several instances like that and never really lags at any points, Ian (Anderson, vocals/flute) keeps the pace good and changes the style constantly. It starts with two verses of more poignant verse, then shifts to a fast-paced, Dun Ringill-ish style. One of the best thought-provoking songs since Wond'ring Again, Life's a Long Song and Pibroch (Cap in Hand).

Runner-Up: Whaler's Dues is a distant second, but very good in its own right. It's far darker than any other song on the album and possesses some of the best word choice and dramatic effect you can achieve for such a song. Even though the subject is rather negative, you still feel sympathy for him. Not really a sing-along type of song, more along the lines of a listen and ponder song. It makes you wonder about what the story behind it is. Very quality song, indeed.

Third Place: Strange Avenues, the namesake of this site. Like Whaler's Dues, it is darker, but like Ears of Tin, it is highly sentimental. The first two minutes are solid instrumentals, spearheaded by Ian's legendary flute. It has a medieval sound to it, very appealing. The actual lyrics only occupy about a minute and a half of time, but it's amazing how much feeling and development they contain. They also more closely resemble Ian's life in Britain than any other song on the album (Ian has admitted that much of his lyrics are quasi-autobiographical, but tried to depart from that trend around this time.) Very classic feel, good song.

Honorable Mention: Rock Island, the title track, barely edges Another Christmas Song for this honor. It resembles some of his older work, and is slightly akin to Whaler's Dues and Strange Avenues, but it is far less inventive and lyrically-developed. It is still an appealing, Tull-esque song, just no new ground covered, really.

Worst Song: Kissing Willie. I cannot thoroughly express my derision for this song. It is mainstream, repetitive and too cliche of a theme. I always skip this track, without hesitation, every time I listen to the album. Sadly enough, this was the most popular song off the album in the media. Just another reason to despise the media music industry.

While the album does not display their past prowess in story-telling and lyrics, Rock Island is the best effort they produced in the 1980's. 3-4 of the songs are lifelong keepers and on a track of ten total songs, you can't beat that percentage. I'd give the album a B+ overall. It isn't as good as Passion Play or Nightcap, but it's pretty damn close.

Now that I've bored you all to death with stuff you probably don't want to hear, I'm going to bed. :P

2002-07-19T02:50:00.000-04:00

Purple pandas are poofy if you paint them shades of wallabies.

Okay, so there was really no point to that. Let's call it an early morning/late night sentence of inanity, spawned by the gremlinoid creatures that inhabit the furthest reaches of my frontal lobe. Don't even get into the brain stem, them be some murky waters, yanno?

Ever since the small tribe of Kangaroo Mice infested my cerebral cortex, things just haven't been the same. In the middle of prodigious diatribes of a dialectical nature I begin to hop around as if I were some heroin fiend rejecting the latest freebased chemical to enter my bloodstream. It's really quite annoying. That, and the crumbs that are left in my ear canals overnight, or whenever the little bastards decide to throw a mousely party-type thing. The cheese is abundant, the sipper bottles of water are in full swing and a full night of sleep is ruined for me.

That doesn't even scratch the surface of this vexatious problem that confronts my synapses on a daily basis. The little kneebiters actually have developed a rudimentary bureaucratic government. Honestly, I could handle a democracy or a socialistic state, but all the paperwork and subcommittees are beginning to put a damper on my spirits, not too mention an annoyingly large amount of paper cuts whenever I happen to sneeze. I actually had to have a mechanical tourniquet installed in my nasal cavity to stop the bloodflow, since that just happens to be their archived hall of records.

And just last week, they began construction of a neural superhighway that travels the length of my spine and has occasional stops in the heart, lungs, kidneys and appendix (I'll be damned if I know why). My bile production receptors have actually been converted into a perverse form of hydropower, to light up their cityscapes that are located in hollowed out bone all over my femur and various other large constructs. At least whenever I fall, my brittle bones snap like overripe peapods, forcing the little suckers to petition the central nervous government for bonequake relief funds.

I suppose the most annoying aspect of it all is the recreational things that the little buggers have taken to. Not only do they hang-glide from the bridge of my nose, but they use my crotch as a landing pad far too often for my liking. The little airstrip warning lights have really put a wrench into my sexual adventures. It seems that most girls only want one thing to be erected in that area, and I'm fairly sure that their parameters don't include constantly flashing redlights to warn low-flying aircraft.

Oh well.

The insults are a pain too. Whenever I miss a shower day, the little twits start talking about some disastrous oil spill in the northern regions that has destabilized the peaceful habitat of the endearing louse and ever-majestic flea. I mean, I can't help it my hygiene isn't up to snuff, I have a horde of small mammels using me like the navy would use an aircraft carriers.

Let's not even get into their archaelogical exploits, dealing with strip-mining resources and "delving" in sensitive orifices. I shudder at the thought.

But it's the life I live. I'm scheduled to meet with the mice now as a peace mediator, it seems that two rival factions have splintered and have gained nuclear capability somehow. That's the last time I leave my lavalamp running during sleeping hours and my digital watch within paw's grasp. Next thing you know, there will be a few unpleasant craters on me.

I wonder if it's too late to convince them I'm a vengeful deity...

*sigh*

Oh well. It's life.

2002-07-16T23:39:00.000-04:00

Testing again, since this thing hates me.

2002-07-16T23:33:00.000-04:00

Today was an interesting day, and it also marks the first time that I have posted in successive days for over 4..5..6..god knows how many months.

Of course, posting is only a worthy thing to do when your day is filled with random manipulations of gravitational pull on your internal organs, existentialist science and random seques into political arguments.

God, I love my friends.

I seriously feel like some sort of twisted bridge between social groups, as I regularly hang with about 3 geographically diverse units, either by my own volition or association to someone that introduced me to them.

But let me go on, when all of us are together in one place, with at least one aspect of each equally warped world, it produces this odd, panoramic feeling that you have reached the epitome, the hub if you will, of the freakish universe.

Or, Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy may just be seeping back into my thought processes...

The great thing I love about hanging out with people is the intensely ironic feeling that you experience, when you feel that your presence is neither wanted nor appreciated, yet through pure logic and past experience, you know it's just insanely irrational insecurities rending your mind. And despite the fact you realize that, you cannot change either feeling, so you're continually aware of both. This, of course, provides an evocative, giddy feeling, where you're not sure if you're going to recoil from interaction to your own little safe world or burst out laughing maniacally without regard to other's response to your demented antics.

Of course, these are just the extremes, you get to experience all the varying degrees in between also.

But you know what they say, if you realize that you're actually good at something dealing with other people, you could get an ego about it and create a paradox. You either know you're good and by default piss people off with your cockiness, or you don't think you're good and you're actually engaging company.

As my friend David would say, paradoxes and dualities are cool. This of course would be followed by an extended round of demented laughter, because he's really, really weird, but we still love him.

The Stormwatch brews a concert of kings as the white sea snaps at the heels of a soft prayer...whispered.

All told, I will miss them all intensely when I leave for college, and will suffuse myself with the fervent promise/prayer that I'll see them on a decent interval when I'm free, during vacations and the like. Life is a depressing thing for that fact, if you want to progress through it, you leave people behind, and they leave you behind. However, I really don't savor the concept of being one of those old people with no friends because I couldn't be bothered to make sure I kept in touch. In that, I will be a man of principle, as laughable as that concept is otherwise.

I'm going to depart to go read more of the Guide, before I go to bed. God, Douglass Adams was a brilliant writer.

I'll leave you with this quizzical verse and the assurance, that no matter how I seem to act or regard you, you're all important to me.

The leaded window opened
to move the dancing candle flame
And the first Moths of summer
suicidal came.
And a new breeze chattered
in its May-bud tenderness ---
Sending water-lillies sailing
as she turned to get undressed.
And the long night awakened
and we soared on powdered wings ---
Circling our tomorrows
in the wary month of Spring.
Chasing shadows slipping
in a magic lantern slide ---
Creatures of the candle
on a night-light-ride.
Dipping and weaving --- flutter
through the golden needle's eye
in our haystack madness. Butterfly-stroking
on a Spring-tide high.
Life's too long (as the Lemming said)
as the candle burned and the Moths were wed.
And we'll all burn together as the wick grows higher ---
before the candle's dead.
The leaded window opened
to move the dancing candle flame.
And the first moths of summer
suicidal came
to join in the worship
of the light that never dies
in a moment's reflection
of two moths spinning in her eyes.

2002-07-15T18:14:00.000-04:00

It's amazing the sensation you get, when you've been planning on something for quite a long time, and when you finally get a chance to use it, to apply it, it becomes irrevocably wrong in some manner.

It's like that with music. So often I will listen to a song and be surprised by its beauty and insight, the culmination of soft instrumentals and poetic lyrics. Yet, when I go to reference the lyrics for some ironic or appropriate purpose, the composition of the words suddenly take on this warped nature. Without the music to accompany them, they effectively lose meaning, in the sense that you cannot revel in them. The words may be aesthetically pleasing to look upon, to read aloud or even to sign to yourself in the quiet, dying moments of the day, but ultimately, they are different from when they are actually contained within the song.

More easily said, we all need a little light music in our lives. Not the stuff of head-banging temper, or the stuff of infectious beat or rhythm that we cannot explain our taste for. What we need is a nice melody that doesn't seem to fit in anywhere but the quiet moments of our lives. Those moments of reflection where we reach startling epiphanies and revelations, that for a second change everything, either between friends or simply yourself. It may not make us human, but it sure as hell makes existence far more meaningful.

Being the quiet one is like the proverbial double-edged sword, it affords you a greater range of thought and observation, but it also occludes you from many things involving more direct interaction. Not to say it is a horrible circumstance, just a regrettable one. It also surprises people even more when you say something of meaning, because they don't expect it, and thereby it might render the whole thing null. I've noticed that people seem more interested in the event of change rather than the content of the change itself, we are very jittery beings in the fact that surprise and change can convert us to confused wrecks.

I would write about myself in this journal-type thing, but usually in retrospect I find my self-centered posts to be more glib and contrite rather than my musings. Who really cares if I win this award, or hang out with those people, or did this during the course of my day? Not likely anyone but the people they actually address or involve, and even then, I wouldn't be surprised if they just scanned my posts for mention of their name in some meaningful way. Don't count that as cynical or mean, I do it myself and feel massively guilty afterwards, and I know of others who do the same thing admittedly. It's human nature, and what else would the human race do?

Being the quiet one is a double-edged sword. You gain wisdom in a sense, but you lose a lot in the bargain.

You just have to set your priorities, I suppose.

You want to be a bookworm? You wanna be aloof?
You wanna sit in judgement, looking down from the roof?
Try a wee sensation: but first you have to want to join in.
You should be, should be raging down the freeway
with some friends from the mall.
Don't stay forever in your limbo: fly before you fall
little sparrow on the schoolyard wall.

So dress a little dangerous and modify your walk.
There's nothing wrong with sparrows, but try
to be a sparrowhawk.
Hunting in the evening and floating in the heat in the day.
You might, might acquire some predatory instinct.
Do the wolf pack crawl.
Don't stay forever in your limbo: fly before you fall
little sparrow on the schoolyard wall.

Well, I don't want to be your daddy.
Don't want to be your engineer of sin.
And I don't want to play the piper here.
I'm only banging on a mandolin
and anyway, you're just a little sparrow
on the schoolyard wall.

There's nothing wrong with learning. Nothing wrong
with your books.
So exercise some judgement. Too much broth can spoil the cook.
Feel a little sensation and know when it's time to join in.
You should be, should be raging down the freeway
with some friends from the mall.
Don't stay forever in your limbo: fly before you fall
little sparrow on the schoolyard wall.

But there is always going to be Tull.

2002-07-01T00:13:00.000-04:00

Let's see if this posts...

2002-07-01T00:12:00.000-04:00

A silence gleaming, like stolen silver in the moontide.
Dark shiver passing through a warm body evening.
Only wanting more brandy, some reinforced pride.

Well, well, well. It's almost a surreal thought to ponder that I will be leaving for college, for good, within two month's time hence. It doesn't really seem like a daunting thing at first, because of the opportunity presented and all, but the human race is one that does not necessarily embrace change regularly, and the loss of cold comfort will be a sobering reality in the least. At least the future is bright to look upon, rather than a bleak dreamscape of doubt and torment, too often the case in my generation, it seems.

The last month has been exciting; I graduated for one. Finally secured a real, paying job as a delivery guy to help pay for some college expenses and the car that I will inevitably require. Speaking of which, I just finished paying for my first car, a 1992 Mercury Sable that both looks and runs well. It should fit the specified need that I will soon have to fill, I figure. Beyond that, I was one of eight national winners for the SUPA Bette Gaines award, where my essay entitled "Revolution of Thought; Evolution of Mind" on the topic of psychoanalysis dealing with MacBeth will be published and recognized by local newspapers. Rather ego-boosting to say the least.

But that simply comprises the personal aspect of my recent days, and also my most unimportant. College is all well and good, and personal finances and achievement are interesting...if you're me. The past month has been far more notable for the time spent with my friends. Not only have I continued my regular interludes with my longer standing friends, it seems I have successfully branched out and embraced new alliances. David is back for the summer from MSSM, before he departs for Vasser, so I can spend time with him for the first time in a couple years. His sister, Christy, has also seemed to be quite the cool person, in the few times I have hung out with her. Additionally, I've begun to spend more time with Molly, Matt, Kris and Kara, which has resulted in a nice change of style. I'd become far too static for comfort, and decided that a change of scenery and variety would satisfy my lunatic tendencies.

Oh, the irony. Me the social one, the one trying to make sure people can do stuff and inviting literally everyone for varied purposes. If a past me met the present me, bloodshed would undoubtedly ensue, you can be assured.

Being content, or at least presently happy, is a nice change from the tumultuous rumblings of last summer and fall. Instead of chaos and catastrophe, things seem to be progressing at a pleasantly paced clip, whilst still allowing me comfort.

I only regret not having the luxury of time to edit my 17-page discourse on literary theory, that was to be submitted for publishing. I feel disappointed in myself in that respect, yet I realize right now that friends are far more important and I have the rest of my life to write analytical pieces.

Another thing (surprisingly) that I feel good about looking back on my high school experience is my lack of dating of any type. Not to say I didn't attempt at the prospect, but the fact that it never went through may turn out more a boon than a bane. Sure, people may say that having experience will help you later on, but I don't buy that. I only see inordinate responsibility and lots of frustration, which I arguably would have dealt poorly with. I simply didn't have the mettle for it, or more accurately, for what common custom would demand of it. I think that now I probably have the mentality for it, but will likely still have two more months to mull it over before taking another wild shot in the dark at the whole thing.

For now, I think this should suffice. I shall most likely begin updating more frequently again, as I have the energy for philosophy and random discourse on my own behalf. I mean, hell, I haven't even gotten into my political or social harangue yet, that could fill a couple months in itself!

Black, polished shoes marking time on the sidewalk
With gold watch hanging from vest pocket, fine-lined and slightly wrinkled.
Cold wind whipping through the night air, disturbing tranquil repose
Warm breath clouding from under brim of brown hat, crinkled.

The man, hands stuffed ineloquently into pocketed-folds of coat
Passes by a shabby outsider, ratty-garb and rattling exhale
Sitting by roadside, along this cobblestone way and murky river
Sad eyes following the man on this begger's shadowed trail.

He stops briefly, meeting the gaze of this poor old sot
Expecting to see whiskey bottle empty or snuffed ash filters
A weathered brow knits thoughtfully as he sees none
Only the hobbled wreck, the always-drifter.

Parched smile cracks from the hopeless face
As he looks up into the man's eyes, trying to see
"Could you spare some change, sir?
Or, at least a smile for my memory..."

I think my poetry is getting better, at least.

2002-05-27T19:04:00.000-04:00

I really need to avoid month intervals in my posting schedule, it's not too propitious.

And then it seems like there is far too much to say, and too little time to say it. Do not take my relative silence for an indicator of inaction and boredom, quite the contrary, I've had one of my more interesting months in the past year or so.

The Prom was last night, the culmination of me having to deal with people being smartasses about me not going. I've really dealt enough with placating platitudes for lack of date, or simple mockery for living up to the high school loser standard. And ironically enough to that point, I really couldn't care less about the whole matter. I'm pretty content with things as they are, no need to dwell on the unfortunate.

As it turned out, it was sort of a moot point. I caught a nasty head cold that prevented me from mobility, much less dancing.

I've pretty much dealt with college matters, all that is left is for me to arrange the payment of the rather minute portion of my bill that is not covered by scholarships. I go for orientation (Oh, joy) on June 15th-16th, get to see the campus and meet the people. In my book though, it will just be me returning to the norm of academic life, hopefully interspersed with some pleasant social occasions.

I still require a car, and I am well on my way to getting one, as I have found (finally) some gainful employment. I must admit, an average of 10 bucks an hour for delivering pizzas whilst listening to rock and roll certainly strikes my fancy. I'll be able to buy a car that will last a couple, if not more, years. Maybe even that pimptastic Geo Storm I've had my eye on.

I will be graduating 13th in my class this Sunday, and if I had been giving my full effort since Freshman year, I could have made a valid run at Valedictorian. But I am satisfied with my standing and effort.

Bah, I believe my train of thought has become thoroughly derailed.

Who knows. Maybe I'll post again in a month or so.

2002-04-14T21:02:00.000-04:00

New title. Seemed appropriate.

And testing the new template.

2002-04-14T17:37:00.000-04:00

One day he'll walk from out of this place.
You'll see a quiet determination on his face.
He'll toe no lines. Suffer no fools.
But he'll raise three cheers to the losing team
from the other school.
A little dedication. A little pair of daddy's shoes to fill.
Complete education. One day he'll be a man of principle.

Been meaning to update this for some time, just never really had much to say. It's hard to find much to say when every day seems to fade into the next as the same old thing.

The last couple weeks have mostly been spent in quiet reflection of the things that have come to pass recently. I've sparingly spent time with my friends, for the first time in weeks spending the entire day with a group yesterday, but it's hard to spend time with people when you're not even sure about your own company.

At first, when I was denied admission by all colleges except my safety school, I felt pretty damn bad for a two or three day span. What made it more difficult, was in the fact that I was not the only one shocked by the response I had received, several others shared in that sensation and benevolently attempted to comfort my dismay. Sometimes it's harder to be lauded as one of the best and end up falling short of expected goals, than to be never considered among them.

But regardless, I've come to terms with things more or less. I realize that these days, it's easy to get caught up in the ratrace of competition and lose the value that experiences present to you. If to achieve the college that I sought, I had to surrender the value that my knowledge has meant to me, it would have negated the purpose. I realize that I will be the one to define the extent and value of my education and life to follow, not an empty letter from an ivy league school. The sacrifice would not be worth it. Ever.

Plus, there's always next year for transfer applicants. I simply won't pander to their superficial requirements. If they won't accept me on the merit of my academic work, they do not deserve my presence in their school.

Beyond that, I've been meaning to do several things this week, updating this site predominant among those things. Other than that, I wish I had the motivation to finally write some of my followup essays on political and social theory I've been thinking on. I could stand to clarify and extenuate my arguments in my simplification series, and other aspects of social theories should be written by now, dammit. Hell, I haven't even written any meaningful fictional shorts in the past few weeks, and god knows I have enough ideas flourishing in my mind. I just always find some pape-thing rationalization to ward off writing yet another day. Bah.

First drivers test tomorrow, probably will fail, but I really don't have much vested interest in passing beyond the simple necessity of driver's licensing for college. But that still leaves me multiple months to follow.

This has become too fragmented to continue for now, until later.

2002-03-30T23:18:00.000-05:00

There was a time when you were so young and walked in their way.
They made you feel they loved you all-seeing they say.
You're going wrong if their game you don't play
And that the song I sing will leave you astray.

Unfeeling, feel lonely rejection,
unknowing, know you're going wrong.
And they can't see that we're just trying to be,
and not what we seem,
and even now believe that it's not real and only a dream.

Not a good week.

It began well enough, even leading me to believe that it might be a pretty damn good week, but what can I say? Fate seems to derive sadistic pleasure from throwing me mixed signals before the shut down.

I got to hang out with Kacie on both Monday and Wednesday, which without rival, was the best portion of the week. It was especially good due to the fact that I hadn't been able to hang out with her on a regular basis preceding, so it was a nice break in the doldrums. The school week was fairly relaxing, I finished all my work early without any form of pressure, and had time to just refresh myself and get some extra sleep. It has been a long, long time since I've been able to sleep an average of 8 hours a night on a school week. I felt quite serene and content.

Then, of course, it all got shot to shit.

Early Wednesday morning, my grandfather died. And while it was not a surprise of epic proportions (He had been diagnosed with terminal cancer a while back) it was nonethless a solemn and disheartening moment. He had been told he was improving and may even make a full recovery, until they found about a dozen tumors lining his stomach. After that, it was simply a matter of time. My grandmother is left with a meager pension, a large medical debt and a deadbeat, radical son who still lives with her. My mother traveled down there to be with her during this time, she'll be staying until Monday night.

So, needless to say, the entire family is rather morose at this point, and it has put a large damper on most of the good spirits that had been prevalent beforehand.

On a more personal note, I was rejected admission by Bates college Thursday afternoon. The notice came in a small, thin, unmarked but for the school seal envelope conveying their deepest regrets for my lack of admittance. This disturbed me greatly, as Bates is arguably the easiest school to get into that I applyed to (granted, notwithstanding my safety school). I had the grades, I had the test scores and I had the enthusiasm in my application essays. Yet, it mattered not when it came down to it. I wasn't really too shaken beyond the simple implications of the rejection, as Bates was my last choice of schools anyway.

However, apparently it is forbidden for someone to have time to come to terms with things as they are, because I received my rejection letter from Bowdoin college earlier today. This is something that will be hard for me to deal with, up until October, Bowdoin was my first choice and I had even applied there early decision. I took the deferral in good nature, since it didn't necessarily mean rejection, but I cannot yet reconcile the whole-hearted rejection. The letter sits on my table presently, mocking me cruelly for my failure, yet I cannot bring myself to throw it away.

On Wednesday, I will find out my true college fate. I will log onto Dartmouth's and UPenn's websites to check their online decision notices. If I do not get into either of them, I will be attending UMO come next fall. And while I will have full scholarship for UMO, I do not know if I could wash the bitter taste of my loss out of my mentality. UMO is an average school, nearly anyone can get into it. I sacrificed almost all other aspects of my life to work towards getting into a top-rank college. How horrible a fall could it be to know that one hundred percent of your effort was only average?

But I will try to push those thoughts out of my mind until Wednesday, for better or for worse. I have a semblance of optimism left for UPenn, as I did an entirely different application for them and I had one of my better creative efforts working for me in the essays. Maybe my eloquence will serve more of a purpose than to be lauded by my teachers and respected/resented by my peers. But maybe I just had too high an opinion of myself and my abilities. Maybe I'm just some poor, delusional sap that thinks he's brilliant, but is instead a king's fool. Maybe I'm not the best. Hell, maybe I'm not even above average, over the median-line. Maybe I've just been filling myself with self-fulfilling lies all these years.

Maybe I'll end up like my father. A washed-up, arrogant man with nothing but a failed education/career to fall back on. Maybe I already am like my father.

Beyond that, I don't understand it. I have a 3.9 GPA with one of the hardest schedules in my senior class. I have a 1400 on my SAT I and scores ranging from 690 to 730 on my three SAT II's. I've never won any awards from my school to recognize these feats, maybe that should have tipped me off? Maybe the full-time academic is a dying breed, and all colleges want these days are the perfectionist, multi-tooled organization kids, the perfect machine.

I don't want to be like that, but I don't want to be anything less. What an odd quandary, a nice catch-22.

All I know, is that I tried my best all these years, just trying to be the same.

Maybe that wasn't good enough.

A delicate hush -- the gods / floating by / wishing us well --
pie in the sky.
God of ages / Lord of Time -- mine is the right to be wrong.

Maybe it was all pie in the sky...

2002-03-17T23:25:00.000-05:00

I think I've figured out the problem that people have.

My theory is, that we all stop maturing in our mentalities (not to be confused with intellect or understanding) sometime in our teenage years. Scientifically, this may be a plausible deduction, as most of the body's major revolutions occur in the teenage years and once we leave them, we enter a stage a physical statis and then deterioration.

What this would mean, is that as we all enter the "adult" world, filled with these new concepts and ideas, we are still possessing the mind of a youth. A mind of innocence and simplistic enjoyment. But out of some bizarre interpretation of what it means to be an adult, we feel pressured to act serious and "mature" more as people. The young mind does not deal with this phenomena well and reconciles it by producing stress as a counterbalance. Yet, we see this as a perversion of what it actually is. We see it as a sign that we are not yet mature enough to deal with certain things, so we must "mature" more.

My friends, you cannot force yourself to mature. You can learn new things, and you can figure out logical conclusions and apply them as a way of editing future action (read: wisdom), but you can never force your mind to mature.

Now, I believe that not only can the young mind deal with the input of new, complex and even serious information, but I believe that it can deal with it better than the perceived adult mind. Today, we see many philosophies dealing with the concept of simplification, to truly be efficient and successful, you must simplify so everyone can work from a mutual set of terms and understanding. In the same vein, we see many very complicated strategems introduced under the concept that we should have the capacity to deal with the most complex issues. When we see these complex strategems, we try to simplify them, but they have become so convoluted, that we attempt to understand them in their own terms and therefore negate the natural default of our mind. In the end, we have people wandering around talking about things that they have no true understanding of, and others around them feel the obligation to complicate things equally as much the have a chance to understand the concepts presented.

I'm sure, that once you boil down what I just said, it is clear to see that it is a destructive cycle that leads to pain and aggravation.

To deal with this theory in more coherent terms, think to historical geniuses. More often than not, these are people considered "eccentric" by their peers. They have odd quirks and seem to see reality from a different stance than everyone else. One might even presuppose that these quirks could be considered "childish". It is my theory that these people are the ones that have most successfully dealt with the illusionary transition from the young to the old mind. They have faith in the simplifying processes of the young mind without shutting off receptive valves for new information. Hence, they take in the new information, digest it in their minds and produce a simplified version of it in their words. Have you ever got the feeling that someone was speaking about something like it was the most obvious thing in the world, yet could not even begin to understand where they were coming from? They have deciphered the method for simplification that our seriously-moded minds cannot reconcile with the way we view things. It should be impossible to compartmentalize something so easily.

But it's not.

Now, I'm sure you're thinking that not all "academic" works are so superficially simple of nature. You can probably draw several examples of particularly verbose lectures or essays, that more leave the reader wondering "huh?" rather than "wow." Not to decry these people in their own right, but the ability to discern the separation of the minds has eluded them. They still have a grasp on the concepts they discuss, but their lack of perspective produces work that is incredibly inaccessible to the common "layperson".

Think historically again. People like Einstein, Beethoven, Poe among others are people held in the highest regard from a majority consensus. What's more, they are still well known many years after their deaths. Their theories are considered brilliant, and their work extremely beneficial to their respective causes.

Yet, there are also people like literary theorists, Karl Marx and the social Darwinists of the early 20th century. Their work was no less influential to their respective fields, yet their names are obscure things that we can but name the most basic of concepts for.

What separates these people, and makes one groups' work easily recognizable and universal, while another group is obscure and unknown, while both groups contributions can be considered of similar import?

It's simple, really. The people in the first grup found a way to simplify their work. Einstein turned complex theorems into simple formulas, no less the worthy for their simple construct. Beethoven took extended scores of complicated sheet music, but it came so quickly and naturally to him that he knew how to create the most beautiful, yet simple music. It was pleasing to the senses. In the same vein, Poe is a brilliant and expressive author with many works to his name. His structure and rhyme and meter are of some of the most complex filigrees, yet the end result is simple and easy to take in for the reader.

By contrast, the people in the second group published endlessly long papers on their theories. They used words that the common person could have no hope to understand and discussed concepts without preword that only a few, select individuals could possibly understand. These individuals were brilliant theorists, but they lacked that crucial element. They lacked the ability to be remembered, because their work was simply too difficult to apprehend for the reader or student.

The most common tendency of the human mind is to simpify a problem to find the desired solution. This is most easily displayed in the realm of mathematics, yet is easily applicable to nearly all other fields. The young mind is capable of this simplification without a loss for knowledge. The old, facade mind tries too hard to keep up with the complicated to see the obvious.

In closing, maybe we should all attribute more lasting value to our childhood and the powers of the young mind. Society might just be the better for it.

2002-03-16T19:05:00.000-05:00

I feel kinda bad for not posting in such a long time and disappointing my adoring fans...

Not!

It's funny, because I tried to imply I had adoring fans! *jovial laughter from the nonexistent studio audience*

But for those of you that happen to stumble randomly across this void of coherence known as Mercenary Creed, this is bound to be a treat for you: We're having a special, all Nick-Revue edition of posting!

Oh, be still my beating heart.

Not really, though. Because most of the stuff I posted in the past went along a nice pattern of styles. It generally began with me being content, degenerating into depression-laden teenageness and eventually just progressed to incoherent, though somehow still eloquent ramblings. I must say I impress myself though, I am literally amazed at my ability to say nothing in such a way to make it seem like something.

Now don't get me wrong, there are actually times where I state things of relative substance and value, they just happen to occur very few and far between, in the chrono-factor of intervalism. See? There's an excellent example of saying nothing like it was something. That sentences makes no bloody sense!

Goddamn I'm proud of myself.

"A walk on the quiet side, late in the day
Don't mean to get in anybody's way.
Gods seem willing, sun's in the sky.
Old crow cawing as the straight crow flies.
There was a time, when love was the law.
There was a time, for the tooth and the claw.
Last rites given, no holds barred.
Heaven express on my credit card."

And ya gotta know that I'm wounded, old and treacherous. Can ya feel it?

Ah, the human mind, where would we be without you? Probably a helluva lot better off. Honestly, of all the things I don't understand, my own crazy ass self has to rank right up there with girls and frequent flyer programs for airlines. Being the quintessential teen, I find myself constantly pining for the opposite gender in a less than platonic way (Who doesn't? Hehe) yet I always feel exceedingly ashamed after any sort of sexual encounter that I played a part in. Oh, stop rolling your eyes, I'm not that inexperienced.

Ya gotta wonder what the mind attaches to the things we do, because upon more thoughtful examination, I really have little problem with anything sexual, as long as you aren't overtly using someone for malicious purpose in that fashion. As a second point, I was raised in a house where my dad used to manufacture x-rated boardgames for married couples, and he paid me to put them together. Crazy shit, eh?

Now, if you take all that funky bundled info into consideration, and apply psychoanalytic philosophy, I'm either rebelling against the concept of sexuality because I feel the need to defy authority figures. But I don't buy that, as I have some pretty bad bouts of hero worship for certain adults, and undisguised dislike for others. For all intents and purposes, I place myself on an equal level as my less-flexible and closer-to-death compadres in this game called life.

The second theory, more Freudian in construct, deals with me wishing to repress my past memories of sexually-related things, so by relation, I feel bad about anything sexual occurring in the present. Not for others, of course, just for me. But I really don't buy that theory much either, considering I never really found that stuff traumatic and actually used it as a bragging focal point on some occasions.

So, we broach into my more reasonable theory in regards to my situation. I personally think that anything even related to adulthood scares the living fuck out of me, because everyone in my immediate family got fucked over by life once they left high school. In the same vein, my dad became a rigid authoritarian with little to no respect for someone that might be his intellectual equal.

Ding ding, I think we have ourselves a winner.

So, by that theory, once I leave high school and forcibly enter a more adult atmosphere of college, I should drop all the other intrinsic resentments that I've been dealing with and be some sort of over-sexed Mack Daddy.

I'll pause for a second while I wait for you, my faithful readers, to retrieve the lung you just expelled due to excessive laughter at that preceding comment.

So, synopsis from Doctor Nick? Stop overanalyzing my life and start living it. That seems to be my biggest fault in any regard, I dwell on things too long and render them impossible in my psyche. When I allow myself to fly freely, I'll be able to chill out and enjoy shit more openly and on a constant basis.

I'm sure that little dissertation on me just riveted ya all. Though, I'd put more money on a bet stating that you're now sleeping soundly at your computer screen, a small line of drool hanging from the mouths of your drooping heads.

And in that, I present my gift to you all!

-Nick, the new NyQuil.

2002-03-06T10:51:00.000-05:00

Crawling into a corner and dying sounds pretty damn tempting right about now.

Fucking sickness.

2002-03-04T00:37:00.000-05:00

Simplify, simplify, simplify.

I just realized I'm happy now because I have been doing that over the past couple months. It is a nice respite from complicated things until the point where I go to college, which will create new experiences and make complication almost worth it.

Though, I'm not too happy right now as my body is breaking into massive trembling from the fever I've acquired. I hate being sick. But I'll live.

Tomorrow, I go to school in a suit for a mock senate thing. Hopefully I won't require NyQuil to keep me stabilized.

But that's all for now. Au revoir.

2002-02-24T01:22:00.000-05:00

One more day of freedom.

I'm going to miss it. I think.

"His eyes..upon her face.
His hand..upon her hand.
His lips..caress her skin.
It's more than I can stand."

2002-02-18T22:00:00.000-05:00

Strangers passing in the street
By chance two separate glances meet
And I am you and what I see is me.
And do I take you by the hand
And lead you through the land
And help me understand
The best I can.

Putting off the inevitable is just that, procrastinating what you know you will eventually default back upon once more.

The days have passed without much difference. Most of them devoured by a multitude of various games and solitude. Well, solitude as much as you can count the internet as being solitude.

I watched Moulin Rouge today, something I had put off for quite some time because I paid heed to the bantering of those who labeled it as a chick flick. Surprisingly, after about an hour of confusion, everything clicked and it became an excellent movie. I love the way they applied 1980s music to a film set in 1900, the structuralism is delightful. I might even watch it again.

I have good friends, but they seem to be dwindling. I suppose my reclusion and other people having better things to do would account for the majority of the situation. As it is, I only spend time with two people on a consistent basis, while trying to plan things in desperation with those I have not seen in quite long periods of time. It is all tinted with a palpable feeling of waning time. College nears, and soon nearly everything will sever cleanly without the slightest trace of remnants. Can't say I dread the eventuality, I would have not said that some time ago, but the "postwar" dream has faded. I'm not bitter about it, I'm a tad cynical, but not bitter.

But to truly survive anything these days, it seems one must possess some tendencies towards cynicism. I'm more enamoured to the optimistic viewpoint of cynicism, even though one would not think it exists as such. I wake up every morning with hope, I cling to some of the most hopeless dreams and I strive for some of the most gaudy and idealized goals, but I am cynical in doing it. I give my best effort, but I do not set myself up for the monumental fall from grace if it does not come to pass. We all need our defenses, and they must be specific to our personal lot and circumstances.

I suppose I'm like the penniless writer in Moulin Rouge at the end. I still believe in the bohemian ideals of love, freedom and beauty, but I'm more battle-hardened to deal with things that do not go along those parameters with perfection.

I am out, though, as a phonecall awaits. Evenin'

2002-02-17T22:09:00.000-05:00

11 days, I am impressed with my ability to procrastinate posting, it is truly inspiring.

2002-02-06T21:57:00.000-05:00

The days just keep drifting by, a lull of sorts.

I'm beginning to feel detached about things right now. It's nothing tangible, nothing that can be explicitly pointed out as the source of the problem, and there seems to be no solution, so what could it possibly be? I can't say quite yet, but it makes me feel wary of the progression. I'm beginning to forget the delicate balance that connects emotion to everything, doing things by rote is the order of the day. I don't feel guilty about it, and I don't regret it, I just am aware of it.

There are still people out there that have what it takes to remove me momentarily from this, but I don't see them enough anymore. I don't see anyone enough anymore. Some people have begun to grate on my nerves, and I don't know how much longer I can tolerate them kindly. I wonder if a dull rage is kindling in the dying embers of this feeling I have? It doesn't matter though, no matter how contrary to my nature, nothing surprises me anymore.

Faded would describe it. I'm faded.

On an otherworldly plus-side, I'm more at ease with people now. I can be more charismatic and seem less the occasional jester of foolish acts.

I don't know why, but my old khakis are comforting me right now. They are worn out and soft, a nice sort of feeling.

I intended to write more, but I have no motivation. Bye.

2002-02-03T00:06:00.000-05:00

Testing...

Bah, that's fucked up.

2002-01-30T21:45:00.000-05:00

We wandered through quiet lands, felt the first breath of snow.
Searched for the last pigeon, slate grey I've been told.
Stumbled on a daffodil which she crushed in the rush, heard it sigh,
and left it to die.
At once felt remorse and were touched by the loss of our own,
held its poor broken head in her hands,
dropped soft tears in the snow,
and it's only the taking that makes you what you are.

I'm not at all obsessive about beginning my entries with a snippet of lyrics. Not at all. Nope. *twitch*

Not much to say, though, so I'll leave you with Tull brilliance once more.

Wond'ring aloud will a son one day be born
to share in our infancy
in the child's path we've worn.
In the aging seclusion of this earth that our birth did surprise
we'll open his eyes.

2002-01-26T01:03:00.000-05:00

The Poet and the painter casting shadows on the water --
as the sun plays on the infantry returning from the sea.
The do-er and the thinker: no allowance for the other --
as the failing light illuminates the mercenary's creed.
The home fire burning: the kettle almost boiling --
but the master of the house is far away.
The horses stamping -- their warm breath clouding
in the sharp and frosty morning of the day.
And the poet lifts his pen while the soldier sheaths his sword.

I sometimes wonder why I still pose on this thing. It is obvious that my interest in it has dwindled quite considerably, as nothing is worth talking about in my life as it is. It is also obvious that others aren't particularly interested, given the sharp decline in my counter hits by unique IPs.

Oh well, who cares?

I've come to the conclusion that I really don't anymore - and I'm better for it. Whenever I get overly involved with social matters, whether it deal with friends or family, I end up somber and feeling that all errors might find their roots in me, and I should have been able to do something. It's rather self-destructive, I realize, but it's a way to be.

This week that I have had thankfully off from school has been one of practiced solitude. Not in the sense that I am becoming reclusive, but in the sense that I am eliminating any obligations on my behalf. When I hang out with friends, there is nothing ulterior, I am simply hanging out with friends. When I get together with a group, it is only with the intent of fun. You know, as simple as that sounds to strive for, once you become entangled in differing conflicts, it becomes increasingly difficult to get back to basics.

For all the times that I wish I could have a successful relationship with someone - for all the great positives that can be demonstrated or created - I see one glaring drawback that makes me glad I am as yet unattached. In nearly all cases [albeit, with exceptions] that friends in the relationships have withdrawn inexplicably from friends for the duration of their engagement. I will never understand that. It doesn't make sense to forsake friendships for any reason. Perhaps I am still naive in that belief, perhaps not. All I know, is that the belief has made me a far happier person, and hopefully a better friend.

Given the light I have cast on my personal preferences, I have surmised that the life of an artist or poet would be the best for me. No, wait, that is far too specific to apply. To be more encompassing, the life of someone exploring intellectual stimulation for their own knowledge betterment. I have begun reading again, it makes me very happy, for I have done little of it in the past few months. After reading three books in the past week, it has done wonders to calm my nerves and make me far more amiable to other people. I find it slightly ironic that such a solitary activity could engender such a socially pleasing mood, but opposites seem to go together all too well these days, it seems.

On that note, it is easy to believe that I will enjoy college extensively. Although I have many cynical views on human nature and politics, I still adhere to the staunch belief that the greatest pursuit of human history is the pursuit of knowledge. The feeling of expanding one's mind is intoxicating, a veritable drug to the senses. I realize it's a greatly personal feeling, but I will still heavily revel in it.

Simplicity of activity is not very beneficial, but simplicity of aim can aid one to amazing degrees.

On more tangible notes, two things of note have occurred within the past week. First, I have had the infernal "buick" extracted from my mouth, and second, I have begun to play D&D with my friends again.

-allows a few moments for ulatant groan to escape audience at the obvious nerdiness of preceding statement-

This means a couple things. It grants me the ability of verbal eloquence once more, so I can get past this whole phase of stumbling over my words like some bumbling doofus. That is calming to my nerves, for as much as I have faith in my abilities, I can't stand sounding stupid under any conditions, in any context.

Furthermore, I once again have a way to apply my creativity, it will do me good.

But I digress and the hour grows late. For now, I shall depart and try to find some peaceful slumber.

Until later, I remain.

2002-01-22T10:38:00.000-05:00

Don't point
Don't point your finger at me
I woke in a fever
The bedclothes were all soaked in sweat
She said "You've been having a nightmare
And it's not over yet"

This week has been pretty restful so far. I ended up going to Kara's bastketball game, then went bowling with her, Tony and a couple others the next night. Then, on Sunday, hopped down to Lisbon for a jaunt. It was pretty fun, though all times didn't feel as comfortable as they once were. I've been feeling exceedingly removed from things as of late, and I have no one but myself to blame.

Then again, it's not like there's much that I'm removing myself from. I'm sick of all the petty stuff, the reason I first decided to be more social because I thought I could avoid it. Well, naivete dies hard.

I wonder who checks this site these days, because I get a decent number of hits daily. I just can't fathom anyone but friends visiting regularly, and that option is becoming more doubtable by the day, it seems.

Oh well.

2002-01-18T16:56:00.000-05:00

Haven't posted in a while. Mostly for the fact I was sick for a couple days, and taking care of business the other couple.

That, and I really am beginning to think that there is no viable reason to post anymore, either for the fact I no longer care about it or the fact that others don't.

I'm going to run a quick purge on my IM Contact List, just to rid myself of the undesirables, the people who no longer talk to me and the people who I no longer wish to know whether they're online or not. Sorta nihilistic, but I really don't care.

But hey, the Eagles won.

2002-01-11T20:33:00.000-05:00

Finished my supplemental essay, smoked my debate opponent, became a cybersenator, got some sleep and played some games.

Pretty full day, yet to be complete. I'll be able to get sleep, even. Limited homework is a beautiful thing.

Tomorrow, my Eagles will crush the Bucs and I will get to play more games and sleep.

Sunday, lots of leisure time and about an hour to revise my final draft of SUPA essay.

Oh, and right now I'm 90% finished a 385mb MP3 download, an entire Jethro Tull album.

Aren't bullet points annoying?

I'm wearing green boxers, with lemmings on them.

Lemmings, lemmings, lemmings.

Yes, you heard me, lemmings.

Not as cool as badgers, but dang close.

92% done, my comp is going at a shredworthy 5.5k a second download rate, my best recorded rate. Booyah.

I probably should replace my contacts, these ones are over three weeks old.

It irritates me that no one is on AIM right now, I need to bother someone for no good reason.

Perhaps I'll bother Angiebug and Bennypoo later.

Yes, you heard me, Angiebug and Bennypoo.

Should I play Metal Gear Solid or Baldur's Gate?

I'm technically finished my college apps, but there are small aspects I've neglected for each, let us review:

*Have not paid application fee for Bates yet.
*Have not contacted Bowdoin Financial Aid office to clarify tax-related info.
*Have not contacted Dartmouth to ensure my entire application arrived, due to my distrust of schools.

On the plus side, I've completed my CSS Profile, FAFSA and sent both of those and all my SAT scores to all my colleges. So given that fact, I'm finished with UPenn and UMO until they send me their march/april admittance decisions.

Despite the fact that I have applied to 4 remarkable schools that are likely out of my range for acceptance, I like my odds to get in to at least one. Do not listen to others when they assure you I am perfectly qualified for such fools, they are pathological liars. I'm a social dissident, skating away on the thin ice of a new day.

I just bullshit essays really well.

97%, not too bad, soon I can post this infernal message since I won't be needlessly waiting for something.

....

Suddenly, I am lacking in things to say.

And the lemming-hearted hordes, running everfaster to the shores, singing:
"Oh, isn't it grand to be playing to the stand, dead or alive?"

Ah, those crazy lemmings, always getting into hilarious hijinx.

I should really write more seriously sometime, I think I could produce a purposeful piece of prose.

At least that's what the pathological liars would say, damn them.

If anyone has any clue what I am thinking, i'll fax you a nickel as reward..

100%! Goodbye!

2002-01-10T22:54:00.000-05:00

When you breathe your last line
Will you make your exit stage left/stage right?
Well, you might decide while there's still time.

Starting posts with italicized lyric quotes is the only way to go.

Anyhoo, I'm grateful that Bates' supplement is only one page of info and a a page-long essay, makes my life much easier. Once I finish that and mail it Saturday, I'm finished with college, and it is left with them to accept me or not. I think the anticipation will kill me.

Only one more week of school before my self-declared vacation week. Hopefully, I'm exempt from all finals, and teachers don't assign work over finals week, so I'll have 9 days of truly free time, not vacations with projects, etc. I don't think I'll know what to do, the combination of SUPA paper and multiple gnawing assignments has successfully nullifed the concept of free time. I only have time to play video games for about an hour each day, because planning things with people has too much intangible wasted time during the planning stage. Plus, my friends are sorta going all hermit-like recently, so it's a nice little mutual recluse cycle.

Hell, it isn't even the third-quarter blitz yet, and this year I have theatre to do. Who needs health anyway?

I suppose I'm reverting too much to bitchy mode today, but can ya blame me? Debate, physics, government and college apps are fairly efficient at mood-souring.

On a more ironic note, it seems that my friend Angela, whom I have never met in person, keeps meeting all my friends coincidentally somehow. I find that incredibly amusing. *chuckles*

2002-01-08T20:16:00.000-05:00

Surreal days are the best.

One of those days were people's reactions seem like comically slow areas of a suspenseful drama flick. That, and no matter how people respond to you, it has some innate humor content.

And I have that ever-pleasant halo of blur around my field of vision, without even touching NyQuil. I am truly impressed.

I aim for more than three hours of sleep tonight.

"We've got the biggest balls of them all"...

Thanks Bennypoo. ;)

2002-01-01T23:38:00.000-05:00

Hey girl
Let freedom for all be our rallying call
Tomorrow lets make...our new resolution

I don't make resolutions. Never have and never saw the point.

One cannot be expected to have an epiphany punctually-timed at midnight of January 1st. True, I have had many such epiphanies, but they have been spaced when circumstance or reality forced my hand to action. When I realized what it would take to get into ivy league colleges, I made a resolution. That worked, since then, I've had a 4.0 GPA and been near the top of my class. I realized once that I was becoming too reclusive and pledged to spend more time with the people who made things worthwhile, I made that resolution also. I followed through again, spending on average two nights a week with friends outside my house. I resolved once to stop pouring money into collectible cards and focus on things worthwhile, and I haven't busted open a pack since last year.

New Year's resolutions are, at best, trite and meant only for pointless ceremony. I try to avoid trite things. This is why I ignore certain people. *chuckles*

For now, I resolve to play Baldur's Gate until I pass out. School tomorrow will have nothing worthy of my attention, I can manage on 3-4 hours sleep. Yes, I am insane.

We were moving away from the border..

Huh...what border?

Have a nice day.

Huh?

Have a nice day.

We were moving away from the border
Looking for somewhere to sleep.
The two of us sharing the driving.
Two hitchhikers slumped in the backseat...

Hello, that's nice..

2002-01-01T20:55:00.000-05:00

Wake up...

...

Wake up..you're dreaming..

It certainly seems like I have been for the past year. Seeing things where there was nothing. But that is one of the follies of human nature, we are not instilled with the ability to understand something until it has already passed....

2001 was an interesting year, and do not mistake that for meaning interesting in a good way. Many things in life are interesting, and more often than not, they are things of morbid and despotic properties. The ordeal in Afghanistan is no doubt interesting, but only in such a way to give us a removed sense of being. We feel as if it should affect us more, and we feel guilty that it doesn't, but that sad truth is that it won't affect us until it does so in a directly personal sense.

But that whole problem is not what made this year interesting, most of the qualifiers for that distinction lay within the time before. During both the summer and the preceding year of life in school. Such a transformation has taken place since last year at this time, it is hard to try and fathom it all at once. It has left me changed, that is true. But I cannot say yet for the better. The future holds the key to that answer that I am so intensely interested in.

The turning of the year saw the end of great covenants of friendship and familial bonds. Things that we firstly said would never be suspect to the evils of human whim or circumstance. That is by far one of the most damaging wounds. When the year began, I still possessed the concept that myself and those I associated with were better than the rest of humanity in some way, shape or form. We had arrived at this conclusion due to our surprising rigidity and resolve of the way we acted, we had been able to endure so far, so why should the new year change any of that.

Unfortunately, it came to be that human nature reared its ugly head and dealt the proverbial final cut to that concept. It was easier for some than others, and it was harder for some than others. That is a given, for we all react differently to the same set of events in the thread of time. I cannot say for sure if any individual stands at fault for the breaking of the covenant, for that is only truly known to the person who feels the weight of it on their soul.

Decisions were made, mistakes were made and misconceptions bred. It is only reality.

So, at the close of this year, I am perhaps more cynical than the turning of the last saw me. I am equally hardened to more unfortunate realities, though not in any way, shape or form, one of those who wish to call themselves "disaffected." I suppose it is simply the matter of losing a little more faith in those you thought to put it into, initially. Am I better for realizing it? Maybe. Do I regret anything that I did during the span of time? No, not really. At most moments of necessity, I made the most right choice there could be, and I would not choose to undermine myself by second-guessing later. I only wish the results had been more desirable.

Things have become deeper, and we are still in the middle of it, no end in sight. There are fewer of us. That leads one to question: Will there be even fewer of us on the next turning? Will we all just fracture away and dissipate one day?

That is not for me to say, the next year will hold those answers.

I bid farewell to 2001. Not a kind farewell, but not a bitter one either. But in the spirit of the undying optimism of humanity, I welcome 2002 in the vague hope that things will change.

You're dreaming....and it's not over yet..

2001-12-23T17:59:00.000-05:00

Listening to Pink Floyd and playing Canon right now. Not much better than that, suffice it to say.

The Christmas party at my Uncle's was far better than I had expected, as I found out my cousin's husband has alot of the same cynical political views that I do, is impressed with my high school record, and advised me on what to do in college. Nice guy. He's friggin' tall though, like 6'5, if not taller.

My cousin, Tiffany, I found out, is part of the ATF. The ATF is sorta like the FBI, except they're more specialized. She analyzes handwriting to determine criminal fraud. She also provides viable search and seizure targets for the task forces they have. I must say, that for all the boring aspects of my family [even including my uncle who has a doctorate in psychology but works for Amway], that is pretty fucking cool. Of course, this brings up the interesting point that about half my family breaks some form of federal law on a regular basis.

The only thing that really sucked for the evening was my father and how he acted. He cut me off and forcibly dismissed my speaking at many points in several conversations. If I got close to proving him wrong, he reacted in such a way that conveyed "If you speak again, you're fucking grounded". That, and when he came home, we watched the Eagles game. This would be good, if not for the fact that the man bitches violently every fifteen seconds when watching football.

Yee-fucking-haw.

It's the 23rd, two more days till Christmas. My last Christmas in this home. I really should do more UPenn application and send in the financial aid stuff to Dartmouth. Maybe even get started on my homework.

But I think I'll play Canon and listen to more Pink Floyd.

"You gotta be crazy, you gotta have a real need.
You gotta sleep on your toes, and when you're on the street,
You gotta be able to pick out the easy meat with your eyes closed.
And then moving in silently, down wind and out of sight,
You gotta strike when the moment is right without thinking.

And after a while, you can work on points for style.
Like the club tie, and the firm handshake,
A certain look in the eye and an easy smile.
You have to be trusted by the people that you lie to,
So that when they turn their backs on you,
You'll get the chance to put the knife in.

You gotta keep one eye looking over your shoulder.
You know it's going to get harder, and harder, and harder as you
get older.
And in the end you'll pack up and fly down south,
Hide your head in the sand,
Just another sad old man,
All alone and dying of cancer.

And when you loose control, you'll reap the harvest you have sown.
And as the fear grows, the bad blood slows and turns to stone.
And it's too late to lose the weight you used to need to throw
around.
So have a good drown, as you go down, all alone,
Dragged down by the stone.

I gotta admit that I'm a little bit confused.
Sometimes it seems to me as if I'm just being used.
Gotta stay awake, gotta try and shake off this creeping malaise.
If I don't stand my own ground, how can I find my way out of this
maze?

Deaf, dumb, and blind, you just keep on pretending
That everyone's expendable and no-one has a real friend.
And it seems to you the thing to do would be to isolate the winner
And everything's done under the sun,
And you believe at heart, everyone's a killer.

Who was born in a house full of pain.
Who was trained not to spit in the fan.
Who was told what to do by the man.
Who was broken by trained personnel.
Who was fitted with collar and chain.
Who was given a seat in the stand.
Who was breaking away from the pack.
Who was only a stranger at home.
Who was ground down in the end.
Who was found dead on the phone.
Who was dragged down by the stone."

2001-12-20T21:19:00.000-05:00

Well, might as well give this thing a sincere effort again..

This has been a rather exhausting week for one consisting of but three days. I love it when teachers attempt to jampack as much work as possible into the last week before vacation so you can relax during the vacation, but then end up assigning you shit anyway. I did two tests, three quizzes and two papers during a three day span for school. Over vacation, I have to read a book, write an important SUPA paper and research my second debate topic.

Hohoho, nothing like the fucking Christmas spirit of giving to relax one's soul.

That, and the vexing issue of being slighted comes back again. I caught a glimpse of my guidance teacher recommendation for college apps, and after seeing it, I can understand why Bowdoin deferred me. It is traditional that the top fifteen students are ranked at the highest level on the rec, I am in the top twelve and probably the top ten considering my incredible work so far this year, and I actually got only "adequate" in one area. That's enough for all ivy league schools to instantly reject an application, and it puts me in dire straits for other highly ranked schools.

I swear, if after devoting my entire highschool existence to my academics, I get fucked over by incompetent guidance counselors who have never spoken to me, but are stil judging my character, I'll not be too pleased. I can understand other people being appeased after their first choice schools reject them, because they know they didn't only focus on academics during high school. I have no such distinction available to me. I sacrificed it all to excel in that area. My social life is crap, my friends are starting to orbit away from me and I've even hurt my family relationships through my fervor. If I end up in UMO, I'll lose it. I hate this all or nothing system, and I don't deserve it.

Go ahead, chastise me for arrogance or elitism. I'm sure many people and their soapboxes could find valid reason to, no matter how unfounded and undeserving. Since day one, I have had people incriminate me on the grounds of elitism, and for some part, I deserve those accusations. For my early highschool days, I was very priggish as related to other students, only being nice to my friends. The last couple years, I have completely remade myself as to become more likable, because that is what I wanted. I did not want to be the coldly arrogant prick that everyone remembered. I didn't want to be a favored son. I wanted to be the good guy, Nick, a smart guy and a nice guy.

And still, I get the accusations. Forget for a moment that I am the most introverted of the top fifteen. Forget that I never willingly do wrong by anyone. Forget that my all-consuming reason in my friendships is to be liked and considered a worthwhile person. Forget for one moment that I have worked my entire life to get to this point, and I should be allotted some right to be proud of my accomplishments. I hate keeping my grades on things secret to most because they would respond with some form of derision if I acted happy in any way, shape or form.

Forget all that.

And still, to all of you who would judge me based simply on superficial notions or my accomplishments, without giving a chance to the true content of my character, you can kindly go fuck yourselves. I've lost my patience.

*grumbles*

Now, that we've gotten that unpleasant business out of the way, I'd like to apologize to those of you who have not perpetrated the aforementioned foul deed. You have done right by me.

It is almost Christmas, and I have been granted a brief respite from my responsibilities. I will enjoy myself. I will go see the Lord of the Rings and I will read books. I will give and receive gifts, and I shall enjoy them.

Maybe, just maybe, the cheer of this season will be enough to shake me from this dull feeling of indifference I have been feeling far too much lately. Maybe I will spend time with my friends. Maybe time will be worthwhile. Maybe the next time you read this site, it will be containing of happy recountings of encounters.

Until then, as Shakespeare would say: Storm still.

2001-12-16T16:01:00.000-05:00

Mike Tomer is far cooler than I remembered him. He seems to have settled down and is less crazy.

Rather heartening, I'll have to re-open ties.

2001-12-15T23:25:00.000-05:00

Here's to disturbing revelations and lunatic waiters at your local Denny's.

And yes, I shall leave it at just that. I'm too damn lazy to expound further.

Bah. Bah to you all.

Though I really have nothing to complain about. This weekend has been much better on a comparative basis. I got to hang out with friends two times in two nights. That, and I actually accomplished some work I intended to. I'll sleep a sizable amount and eat decent food. I'll finish 3 of my college applications, leaving myself two weeks to do the fourth.

Not too bad.

Finished The Fellowship, onto Two Towers.

But, not much else.

Oh yeah, shopped for Christmas, got all my gifts.

2001-12-14T15:12:00.000-05:00

It seems that every time I come close to updating this thing with any resolve, I put it off.

Hmm..

That, and the fact my last few updates could have been easily written by a lunatic or alcoholic. Tis disconcerting.

2001-12-11T20:54:00.000-05:00

It's been too long of a day.

Bowdoin deferred my application to the regular process.

A polite rejection, as it tends to be. But we shall see.

2001-12-10T18:34:00.000-05:00

"And there are people who will say they knew me so well
I may not go to heaven,
but I hope you go to hell."

Oh yeah, feelin' it.

Things are all fucked up, that's nothin' new, but I'll be damned if I'm gonna let that stop me. I mean, so far, everything that has been introduced into this nice little tanglewire of intrigue is stuff I literally have no control over. I could be a sinner, or I could be a saint, makes no fuckin' difference.

And when you realize that, it makes you feel oh-so-fucking good.

I'm back to basics, man. I'm enjoying the shit I'm supposed to enjoy, not any of this petty conversation, negotiation or mental masturbation.

Fuck that.

For a good 20 minutes today, I simply sat and appreciate the incredible beauty of this girl I know. Dammit, it didn't accomplish anything, but you should really try it.

But now I've gone off onto a wistful tangent, never to be found again. My mind has hit the atmosphere and burned up. Heh.

I'm gonna read some Lord of the Rings and sleep. That's the shit that life should be made out of.

Later all, try and find something good to reflect upon before the day is through, it'll be good for you.

2001-12-10T15:11:00.000-05:00

This is why Ben is my one and only homie-g, werd, yo:

Tarrant Sinaran: :-)
Tarrant Sinaran: 20!
Tarrant Sinaran: Pause the count! Ink is a NO GO!
Deep Fnord: *kkhhhhk* Houston, we have a lack of ink.
Tarrant Sinaran: *"Sir! Sir! Ink is being refilled, STAT!"*
Tarrant Sinaran: "Ink IS a go!"
Deep Fnord: *"Continue with ink-fillae operations!"*
Tarrant Sinaran: "T minus 10, and counting!"
Deep Fnord: *"WOOT!"*
Deep Fnord: Open mind for a different view, and nothing else matters.
Tarrant Sinaran: So close, no matter how far.
Tarrant Sinaran: "Sir! Ink is CALIBRATING!"
Tarrant Sinaran: "Abort! Abort! Abort!"
Deep Fnord: Never cared for what they do. Never cared for wht they know.
Deep Fnord: "Code Red! Code Red!"
Tarrant Sinaran: "Aborted, SIR!"
Tarrant Sinaran: But I know.
Tarrant Sinaran: "Calibration complete!"
Deep Fnord: damn good tune.
Tarrant Sinaran: *Begin printing, T-10, and counting.*
Deep Fnord: "excellent. Continue inkage."
Tarrant Sinaran: "Inkage continued"
Deep Fnord: *Prepae for printoff~!*
Tarrant Sinaran: "Printing!"
Tarrant Sinaran: "We have 22!"
Tarrant Sinaran: *Houston rejoices*
Deep Fnord: Never cared for what they say, never cared for games they played, never cared for what the do, never cared for what they know.
Deep Fnord: *applause*
Tarrant Sinaran: "24, Sir!"
Deep Fnord: "excellent job, Lieutenant."
Tarrant Sinaran: "We have 26. I repeat, 26"
Deep Fnord: "Do you think she can handle the pressure?"
Tarrant Sinaran: "I don't know, Sir, but we're going try our damnedest"
Tarrant Sinaran: "28! 28! But I believe we are overheating!"
Deep Fnord: "Thats the spirit! Drinks, anyone? We have Gin and tonic, or maybe a nice Daquiri..."
Deep Fnord: *wheeeep! wheeeep! wheeeep!*
Deep Fnord: "Damn! The master alarm! Would you like some lemons in that?"
Tarrant Sinaran: "Cooling units are GO! Emergency Generators are a GO! Daiquiris are a GO!"
Tarrant Sinaran: "29, Sir, the danger has been averted. Core temperature is down to only 5 centrigrade above normal"
Deep Fnord signed off at 9:09:13 PM.
Deep Fnord signed on at 9:09:19 PM.
Deep Fnord: begging pardon?
Tarrant Sinaran: Tarrant Sinaran: "Cooling units are GO! Emergency Generators are a GO! Daiquiris are a GO!"
Tarrant Sinaran: "29, Sir, the danger has been averted. Core temperature is down to only 5 centrigrade above normal"
Deep Fnord: "Excellent. Activate emergency fannage units. And, the Daquiri-Banana, Strawberry, Lime, or 'Massive mangoes'?"
Deep Fnord: "I think that last one is a porn tape. Probably we should take it off the menu..."
Tarrant Sinaran: "No, no, Corporal, leave that one for the boys after printage is achieved."
Tarrant Sinaran: "Sweet Jesus, we've had alot of printage so far, Major."
Deep Fnord: "Indeed we have, Lieutenant. More so than any of us expected."
Deep Fnord: "I expect we'll get a medal."
Tarrant Sinaran: "Hold engines, Major-Corporal-Lieutenant, I must go to the pisser for a stint"
Deep Fnord: "FULL STOP! Lieutenant Nickariah needs to cisit 'el can'!"
Tarrant Sinaran: "Bodily fluids are a GO! Printage is now a GO!"
Deep Fnord: "Activate the flushometer."
Tarrant Sinaran: "Flushometer activated, urine dispatched"
Tarrant Sinaran: "Where to, Sir?"
Tarrant Sinaran: "Probably somewhere near Detroit, we don't care about that here, son."
Tarrant Sinaran: "Yessir."
Deep Fnord: "Private Johnson!Back to your station."
Deep Fnord: "How much printage do we have?"
Tarrant Sinaran: "Continued printage is a GO! We have a big mother coming up, Corporal. 29 printage so far, with a big 12 upcoming."
Tarrant Sinaran: "Man your stations."
Deep Fnord: "Print stations, high alert!"
Deep Fnord: "Prepare Tank One."
Tarrant Sinaran: "Tank one is a GO!"
Deep Fnord: "On your word, Lieutenant."
Deep Fnord: "But Major Major, don't you outrank me?"
Deep Fnord: "Shut up, Lieutenant."
Deep Fnord: "Yes sir."
Tarrant Sinaran: "You all, stop bickering. Printage is a go."
Deep Fnord: "Right! Your Daquiris are here. Who ordered strawberry?"
Tarrant Sinaran: "Printage is underway"
Tarrant Sinaran: "That's me."
Deep Fnord: "Here you are, and you, and you. And the Massive Mango for me!"
Tarrant Sinaran: "Only god can preserve us now."
Tarrant Sinaran: "Oh, don't we know it. *hearty laughs to break solemn tension*
Deep Fnord: "Good lord, I don't know if we can handle another 12."
Deep Fnord: *hearty laughs*
Tarrant Sinaran: "Maybe more"
Tarrant Sinaran: "3 down, things are going good so far..."
Deep Fnord: "Jumping Jesus on a Pogo Stick!"
Tarrant Sinaran: "Calm yourself, Major"
Deep Fnord: "Sorry sir.
Deep Fnord: I just get so into it."
Tarrant Sinaran: "Out of paper! Out of paper!"
Deep Fnord: *vrrp! vrrp! vrrp!*
Tarrant Sinaran: "Oh my god, we're all going to die!"
Deep Fnord: "Quickly, men, to the storerrooms! There must be some more!"
Tarrant Sinaran: "Here's some!"
Deep Fnord: "Major? I'm...well...not a man."
Deep Fnord: "Put it in!"
Deep Fnord: "Major?"
Deep Fnord: "Shut up, wazpinski."
Tarrant Sinaran: We've only 25 pieces left, we're gonna cut this close"
Deep Fnord: "good god. I hope we make it out alive."
Tarrant Sinaran: "8 and counting, my lord"
Deep Fnord: "How are the ink reserves?"
Deep Fnord: "And above all, the daquiris?"
Tarrant Sinaran: "Both are dwindling, I am sorry to say."
Deep Fnord: "8 and counting. Excellent."
Deep Fnord: "Will we make it through this hellish job?"
Tarrant Sinaran: "If we do, we may wish we didn't."
Deep Fnord: "Why do you say that?"
Tarrant Sinaran: "We might go insane from the stress, it's happened to many a good man"
Deep Fnord: "Oh yes. I remember poor, poor Colonel Yossarian. He went completely zany."
Tarrant Sinaran: "Aye, that's why we must keep our wits no matter what"
Deep Fnord: "Indeed."
Tarrant Sinaran: "Holy shit! 17 and counting!"
Tarrant Sinaran: "Sir! Page three, sector three was not printed!"
Tarrant Sinaran: "23 and counting. The ink is boiling, the coolant is failing"
Deep Fnord signed off at 9:37:12 PM.
Deep Fnord signed on at 9:37:19 PM.
Deep Fnord: come again?
Tarrant Sinaran: Tarrant Sinaran: "Holy shit! 17 and counting!"
Tarrant Sinaran: "Sir! Page three, sector three was not printed!"
Tarrant Sinaran: "23 and counting. The ink is boiling, the coolant is failing"
Deep Fnord: "Good lord!"
Deep Fnord: Somebody do something!"
Tarrant Sinaran: "Cummings lost his mind sir, he's running around naked in sector G."
Tarrant Sinaran: "29 and counting! Good lord man!"
Deep Fnord: "Poor man. Kijjin, go and try to talk some sense into him."
Tarrant Sinaran: "He ate one of the privates, Sir"
Deep Fnord: "We have a Hull Breach! printiferous malodorius in Section A!"
Tarrant Sinaran: "*gasp*, Not that!"
Deep Fnord: "Well, maybe the Print Leech will eat Cummings. See if you can chase him into section A, Jackson, and strap some explosive to him."
Tarrant Sinaran: "Yessir."
Tarrant Sinaran: "I think the nightmare is over, Sir."
Deep Fnord: "That was a close call. Let us hope we never need do this again."
Tarrant Sinaran: "You don't even want to know the final tally"
Deep Fnord: "I don't, but I must.":
Tarrant Sinaran: ".....33 for this endeavor and 62 total"
Deep Fnord: "good lord."
Tarrant Sinaran: "And we lost a third of our crew."
Deep Fnord: "But I thought we only lost Cummings."
Tarrant Sinaran: "I'd say it's about time for those massive mangoes, wouldn't you Major-Corporal-Brigadier-General-Lieutenant?"
Tarrant Sinaran: "We did, to the madness. We lost 7 others to hot ink spills and spooling error."
Deep Fnord: "good lord! Not a spooling error!"
Tarrant Sinaran: "It was what we feared, but at least most of us lived."
Deep Fnord: "I'd say so, Constable-Lieutenant-General-Major-Captian."
Deep Fnord: "true."
Tarrant Sinaran: "Time for some alcohol and porn."
Deep Fnord: "Mos Tequila!"
Tarrant Sinaran: "There's still some tertiary printage required later on, but that will be standard size and procedure."
Tarrant Sinaran: "*hearty chuckles all round*"
Deep Fnord: "Good, good. Try and recruit some replacements for the 7 we lost."
Deep Fnord: *chuckles and titters*
Tarrant Sinaran: "Should be plenty, if we upgrade to some quality jailbait porn. *knowing winkage*"
Deep Fnord: "Whose copy of 'big nostril mamas' is this?"
Tarrant Sinaran: "That'd be Jone's. *smirk* Hold the fort for a few, Corporal, I need to organize the printage for further scrutiny"
Deep Fnord: "Righto."
Tarrant Sinaran: "I believe we are finished here, time to bring the boys back home."

2001-12-09T23:41:00.000-05:00

9 hours of typing and 72 printed pages later, and I'm done.

Now, time for a deranged killing spree.

2001-12-09T21:39:00.000-05:00

Ok, finished with all the printing and such. I ended up with a total of 62 pages printed between government and college application stuff.

And there is still debate. I might reach 70 pages. Sweet Jesus.

2001-12-09T20:12:00.000-05:00

Ok, the government is finished. Thank god for small favors.

This leaves me with the debate stuff, which, if I do it right, should take at most an hour.

And then, I can go through about three reams of paper while printing.

*beep beep*

*beep beep*

*beep beep*

.....*sigh*.

2001-12-09T14:45:00.000-05:00

Time to finish the government.

2001-12-08T23:59:00.000-05:00

Booyah! [with an "h", mind you] There goes the common application! Time for some quality bullshit!

Not to mention, I take perverse joy in short updates, yanno, to harass people.

2001-12-08T23:32:00.000-05:00

Finished the bibliography! I'm on a roll!

2001-12-08T23:17:00.000-05:00

Well, I've gotten my Outline and Gov Article shit done, and most of my bibliography.

That leaves the common app [which is nearly finished anyway] and rewriting some of my speech [may just replace with writing some of government paper, there's more margin of error for bs there. I'm not in my best cognitive argumentation mentality currently].

And I still have over an hour and a half before my target finish time. w00t!

2001-12-08T21:34:00.000-05:00

Ok, well, my work ethic sucks.

That, and my hands hurt. It's ironic, because my hands always hurt so much during my dish week, then, by the time they heal, it's my dish week again. Bah.

But back to my work ethic.

I've had all Saturday to do work and I've done nothing. It impresses me. It's almost 9:30 and I've done nothing.

So, here's the plan: I'm gonna get all the work that I wanted done today before I go to bed. I will not stop until it is finished. This means that I must:

-Write a final outline for my debate.
-Write a bibliography for my debate.
-Locate three CDT-related articles for my government paper.
-Print out three common applications with accurate and up to date information.
-Rework Constructive Speech for debate

This will give me ample time tomorrow to:

-Compile my government paper.
-Double-check debate stuff to make sure I'm set.
-Do physics problems.
-If time permits, begin work on my Dartmouth Application.

Then, on Monday:

-Call Bowdoin about financial aid info.

I hope I get to bed before 1am, that'll give me time to sleep enough for tomorrow.

On an unrelated sidenote- People need to not mess with my head whilst I am tired. It ain't cool.

2001-12-07T19:42:00.000-05:00

I'm in a fairly good mood for one who has walked that evil causeway once again. This surprises me slightly, as I figured this last time would be enough to drive me bonkers. I guess I still have a few more miles in this tank.

I probably should have joined Ben and Molly tonight for a movie, but I figured I ought to take the time and put it to use by finishing some college application shit. I'd like to say that I followed through on that, but I'd be lying through my teeth. In reality, I simply read The Fellowship of the Ring for an hour and have been playing online games thus far. I'll likely do something purposeful later, as my college future sort of hinges on my applications.

This weekend portends a dire fate. As in, I have enough work to drive me insane. Well, technically, that's not entirely true. I mostly just have a government paper and a debate due, but due to the fact I've never done a debate, I'll be anal about it and overdo it. I almost feel sorry for my opponent, he simply isn't ready for the tempest known as Nick when obsessive compulsion takes over. I'll probably polish up the debate stuff tomorrow when I'm rested, but not yet frantic and churn out a load of BS for government. I dunno why, but I stopped caring when that class became laughably easy.

One side affect of my most recent failed endeavor has seemed to be a vaunted sense of apathy. If you're ever become randomly detached, as if you're not actually affected, you know what I mean. I got back my ethnography, a paper I worked on longer than any previous piece of work. I got an A, my fourth straight A in SUPA, an admirable feat to say the least. I got back the paper, saw the grade and simply didn't care. I realized that it was something I had worked so hard for and it did nothing for my pride at all. If I had it in me, I could have cried right then and there out of pure disbelief and frustration, but I didn't.

I suppose it's not the actual rejection that gets to me, in the end. I can and have dealt with that on numerous occasions. I think it is more the sense that people pity me for my failings. I don't want to be the sad case that everyone feels sorry for, that is a distinction I never would care to possess. Yes, I realize that it's alright to show distress and discontent, to show your emotions. However, it just seems that its become too frequent for my taste. I'll not be another jilted teen depressive. It would simply be stupid of me to squander my ability by drowning in my sorrows.

Oh- and on a completely unrelated sidenote, I got a haircut today. The 60s Monkey look was gettin' a tad boring and stupid looking. With my hair cut, it has become more evident that I have lost substantial weight in the past six months. My features are becoming more angular and trim. Not in an unhealthy way, mind you, it is a nice change from the old days. Eventually I'll completely overcome the prevailing concept that I am summarily unattractive. Heh.

Things seem to be changing with my friends. It's hard to say exactly what at this point, but things are becoming markedly different, and not for the better by any stretch of the imagination. I've been immersed in the concept of inviolate friendship for the past year, as my relations have not been greatly altered with any. However, to avoid delusions of contentment later, I must come to terms with illusions of grandeur in the present. People always change and the terms of engagement are similarly altered to suit the new conditions. I simply need to determine what the terms are.

But I've said enough for the day. I'm off to do work and maybe start writing the skeleton of that poem I've been envisioning as of late. Until then.

2001-12-06T18:49:00.000-05:00

Logic would dictate that I update.

Processing...processing...*whirr*

*beep* "Cannot Compute! Cannot Compute!"

*explodes*

....Or perhaps not.

2001-12-05T16:53:00.000-05:00

The worst part is when you've gotten your hopes up.

I don't pretend to understand this at all, but I'd better learn to deal with it, or it will eat me alive. In the beginning, I could do so easily, but now, I'm not so sure. Too many times. The nerves are wearing thin. I look more tired every day.

It disconcerts me.

I shall likely update more later, I don't feel like saying much.

2001-12-04T20:00:00.000-05:00

Today was a very good day.

At first, I had expected attrition, a drawn out battle of the deepest strife known to humanity. I had expected blood, sweat and tears to be involved. I had expected a grueling task at hand, with every step of the way sapping my last reserves of strength.

I tend to blow things out of proportion it seems.

The actual conflict took less than a minute. It was straightforward and clear.

It's a beautiful thing when you expect attrition and you get a lightning strike that is victorious.

But I get ahead of myself, there is much work down the road that will determine the final outcome. The battle is won decisively, but the war is just begun.

On a sidenote: I need to stop being so damn cryptic and stop using comparisons to morbid topics to describe good things. *chuckles*

Today was a very good day.

2001-12-03T19:22:00.000-05:00

Well, today was sort of a bust, given the fact I was too sick to speak coherently much less begin my quest.

But...tomorrow is my D-day. I just wonder how seasoned my troops will be for the task at hand.

Here's hoping.

"Long you live and high you fly
And smiles you'll give and tears you'll cry
And all you touch and all you see
Is all your life will ever be."

2001-12-02T21:30:00.000-05:00

"If you didn't care what happened to me,
And I didn't care for you,
We would zig zag our way through the boredom and pain
Occasionally glancing up through the rain.
Wondering which of the buggars to blame
And watching for pigs on the wing."

Drama is over for now, the cast party was disappointing. It was fun working with Kacie and Jim, among others, and I actually did derive some feeling of satisfaction for a job well done. Surprise surprise. But that's all I've got to say about that.

I've got a head cold right now, so I want to try and remain terse as to not wander off [as I would eventually].

This next week is the week of december the 3rd to december the 7th.

I am resolute. I will go forth with my plan. Success is not yet known, but optimistically forecast.

Time for attrition.

In this context, attrition can be defined as striving for victory through relentless assault. The wearing down of through constant stress. Heavy losses impending, most likely bittersweet in victory. But, in attrition, you never lose sight of the objective, and the sweetness of victory is ascendant to the cruelty of defeat.

However, losing is a crushing blow.

Let the games begin.

"You know that I care what happens to you,
And I know that you care for me.
So I don't feel alone,
Or the weight of the stone,
Now that I've found somewhere safe
To bury my bone.
And any fool knows a dog needs a home,
A shelter from pigs on the wing."

2001-11-30T23:42:00.000-05:00

I love how I feel apprehensive to say anything these days.

This may seem odd, if not for the fact that every time I seem to present something of troublesome issue I receive only patronizing and people offering sympathy to me in the way that you would offer sympathy to a child. It's apparently a foreign concept that I might have problems on a similar level as my peers. Granted, there are exceptions to that rule, and I appreciate those people, but sometimes, the others just wear on my nerves. Sometimes, it's hard to maintain a frivolous demeanor in the face of mockery.

Though, I suppose I bring it on myself. No matter how often I resolve to be more serious, my attitude always devolves back onto my guise of foolishness. When I realize I've reverted, it is always the most unique pain, some twisted form of shame. I don't want to be a stuffy intellectual, but I also do not want to be the clown, the fool. I wish middle ground was easier to attain, but it has proven to not be.

The result of this face of mine is interesting- people tend to be more friendly with me and I've gained more friends by acting the fool than the scholar. Yet, it is always frustrating when people think I am always one way or another. I must admit, when people praise me for my academic achievements, I do feel proud, but I do not want to feel superior. Feeling superior makes me feel guilty. The inverse applies when people assume I'm the fool, though I'd rather feel superior than inferior.

I've made my close friends in much the same way, always having the humorous thing to say to alleviate any tension present, but undermining myself in the process. I've heard time and time again the reasons why I am a good friend. True, some of these assertions are well based due to the extent that certain people know me. But to those who have never seen what I am truly like, it only acts as cruel reminder of my vices, my crutch.

That, and I seem to have mastered the ability of being the guy least likely to be considered within any romantic context. The joker is all well and good for entertainment, but would you want to become even slightly intimate with the joker? I could live with the irony of friend's views, but my fatal flaw shows through with this new quandary. I've lived 18 years, and the only response I've ever received is : "You're too good a friend to become involved with." I used to be able to live with this, but as the days progress and everything becomes more sectionalized, it all falls apart. One day, I'll look around and be completely alone, everyone else would have moved on. Sometimes, schoolwork and my obsessive need for perfection are not enough to distract.

There are times where I feel I have overblown the situation, and it is likely that I have in many ways. Yet, it is hard to contend with the most poignant pang of sorrow that is experienced at the most random of intervals. The causality may appear unrelated, but the nature of the feeling is unmistakable.

*sigh*

I thought I had resolved to not post when I was exceedingly tired. So much for that resolution.

For once, I look forward to when the storm breaks open. The tempest follows the calm, and in this case, the calm is one of maddening properties. I can always hope, that the next time the stormwatch brews, I will not be the one watching, but instead, the one guiding the storm.

Not like I would have any clue what to do in that case, but it certainly is a wistful notion.

"They flutter behind you- your possible pasts.
Some bright-eyed and crazy..some frightened and lost.."

2001-11-30T17:43:00.000-05:00

Two more days.

Then, sweet tranquility.

This is one of those days where I feel completely justified in listening to more soft rock Jethro Tull, simply to reflect in it. For all the quality of such songs as "Aqualung" or "Thick as a Brick", no songs are quite as poignant as "From A Deadbeat to an Old Greaser" or "Chequered Flag- Dead or Alive". The point of those songs is lost most of the time, the subtle nuances hidden by more energetic or shrouded moods. But, when they strike the right chord, they are exultant.

"The disc brakes drag,
the chequered flag sweeps across the oil-slick track.
The young man's home; dry as a bone.
His helmet off, he waves: the crowd waves back.
One lap victory roll. Gladiator soul.
The taker of the day in winning has to say,
Isn't it grand to be playing to the stand,
dead or alive?"

I suppose the most appealing parts of this song are the concepts of "taker of the day" and having a "gladiator soul", something I generally believe I do not possess. For all my qualities that I see within myself and my friends see, I cannot consider myself being of that leadership timber. My personality virtually forbids it, though I try to overcome it.

Eh, but that's restating the obvious, and taking a rather obvious route towards more vaunted complaint of petty difficulties. It's amazing how often I let myself slip into mindsets I always promised myself I would avoid- I never wanted to represent the stunted teen melodrama in any way, shape or form. But I suppose that's just human nature.

But I'm feeling good- surreal good- today. It'll end, and I will progress towards polar cycles again. But for now, I'll enjoy this feeling of calm that is coming over me. I'm out for the day.

"To a Deadbeat, from an Old Greaser-

Think you must have me all wrong.
I didn't care, friend; I wasn't there, friend.
If it's the price of a pint that you need, ask me again."

2001-11-28T22:33:00.000-05:00

Things have been resolved, things have been calmed, things have gone back to the daily humdrum.

I'm going to write my SUPA paper and go to bed before another Stormwatch brews.

There's been too much of that as of late.

2001-11-27T16:15:00.000-05:00

"I gotta admit,
I'm a little bit confused.
Sometimes it seems to me,
As if I'm just being used.
Gotta stay awake,
Gotta try and shake off,
This creeping malaise.
If I don't stand my own ground,
How can I find my way out of this maze?"

I'm too tired to post anything real, despite the fact there is indeed much to say.

Sometimes, there is much to say about saying nothing at all.

"I keep thinking tomorrow is coming today,
So I am endlessly waiting."

2001-11-24T17:58:00.000-05:00

Damn, things shouldn't be allowed to get so boring so quickly.

I wasn't able to procure a ride to Lisbon, so scratch seeing Linda until sometime within the next two weeks. *wince*

I wasn't able to procure a ride to Ben's house in the evening, so I can kiss my plans goodbye.

The only thing left is work and waiting until drama decides to rear up and kick me in the balls. I love how people coerced me into volunteering for a job which I have never done, and a week before the actual play, I still have no friggin' clue. I didn't even do props work today, I just did odd jobs and lazed about most of the time. This makes me feel guilty, because I don't like forcing others to pick up the slack I leave.

Maybe I can play more BGII. Hmmm..

Or finish my ethnography. Doing so would open tomorrow night for remaining pathetisad homework and the planned Canon war I have. I am very much in the mood for destruction right now, maybe that'll act as good therapy.

And I need to figure out what days seniors get late arrival next week. That's kinda important.

On a sidenote, I'm going to have to mention my favorite cutiepie, Angela, because of that sweet, yet sappy as hell, message on her site about me. Heh. She's gonna hit me, now. ;P

Well, that's enough random discourse from me for now, not like I actually said anything truly worth saying anyway.

2001-11-23T21:55:00.000-05:00

Bah. Being productive is very overrated.

I had myself an odd Thanksgiving, well, not really until later in the day. After I ate the real dinner, I sorta zoned out due to lack of sleep for a couple hours, logged on and had Ben and Kris coerce me into a little get together at Denny's and then Kris' house for some PS2. Ben came back to my house to sleep over, and we ended up watching two very, very bad movies. People, take it from me, never watch "Route 666" or "Spaceman".

Well, maybe "Spaceman." Heh.

Ok, about the productivity, I resolved upon Ben's departure to actually get some homework and other shit done, instead of play Baldur's Gate or surf the net for an ungodly amount of time. That plan miserably failed until about 6ish, where I suddenly got the urge to do stuff. Odd. I ended up doing all my physics and debate homework, laundry, cleaning and twice my normal amount of reps for exercise.

Oh, yeah. I exercise now, one of the signs of the apocalypse.

I'm trying to figure out what I will have accomplished over this vacation [I count it as ending due to the beginning of drama "hell week"]. And I'm grasping at straws for all intents and purposes. Let's run down the list.

*Finally finished some quests in BGII
*Got my Canon guild up and running
*Did some (very little) homework
*Registered to vote (Republican)
*Experienced random oddity to accompany the perpetual mundanity.

Speaking of Canon guild, my spike in internet usage frightens me. I used to use online games and other things as a crutch due to the lack of a real social life. Once I actually started involving myself in life again, I actually quit most of these addictions, Canon, Video Games, Magic, etc. However, I find myself becoming more and more involved in them once again as the days drag on. Maybe I'm giving up on highschool and just waiting for college life. Maybe I'm too afraid to change as much as I'd like to.

The thing is, I actually quit all those things because I lost interest in them as compared to my life. Yet, the interest in life is receding somewhat. I still care, but it's just getting repetitive.

No sense in dwelling on that now, though, when it becomes more acute then I shall pay it more mind.

Tomorrow should be an interesting day. As it is planned, I'll be waking up early to go to drama at 8:30 until 2pm. After that, I should be going to Linda's for most of the day, then back to Ben's house to hang out with him and Molly, another good friend of mine.

Granted, I won't have 2 seconds respite until sleepytime, but you can't beat the personal contact involved.

That's enough for now, I'll think of more when I'm lucid and available.

2001-11-22T14:48:00.000-05:00

It's only fitting that I be in a massively sentimental mood for Thanksgiving.

I've been covering all aspects, listening to wistful music, reflecting upon the good things and plain and simple relaxing in life for a change.

Which brings to mind, what am I thankful for this year?

This has been a year radically different from prior years. More things have changed in this year than have ever changed for me before. I've gone through situations where people ended up feeling hurt, where people where exiled by their peers, where inadequacy and indecision have seemingly run rampant. I have seen my life and my friends turn into some stereotypical teen thing, despite the fact that is what we pledged would never happen. I have seen friends date. I have seen friends hurt each other. I have seen people doubting. I have seen myself involved more than ever before.

For someone that was basically reclusive for most of his life, this is a harsh reality that chimes childhood's end. Sometimes, I wonder if I helped to bring this situation on, or if I was swept along by the current.

But that's copping out, to some extent, we all have a part in the passion play.

Despite all this oddity and strife, I like to think I've come out better for it. Even beyond all the good music I've discovered. *chuckles*

Several things stand out in my mind on this day, but the most important has always been my friends. I've lost friends, I've gained friends and I've escalated friendships. I think of the three people I would do nearly anything for. Three people who have never truly wronged me, and I have never truly wronged them. Don't get me wrong, there were several junctures were I could have hurt them, but you truly realize the depth of your feelings when you realize the sacrifice you're capable of for those people. Even going so far as to sacrifice personal interests.

Firstly, there is Kacie. As the days pass, it becomes evermore difficult to truly describe how much she means to me. She has always been there for me and has never let me down in any way. Her infinite patience and affection are enough to hearten the most weary and tired souls. At one time, I thought I was interested in her beyond friendship, I thought the only way to turn the game into a deep play was to entirely change the rules of engagement.

However, I was wrong. And you'd think something like that would engender discomfiture between people, but the wonderful thing is, it never did. It was never allowed to happen.

She is my best friend, and likely the person who understands me the most. And for all that understanding, she has never questioned my motives, my flaws or myself in general. I cannot express the gratitude I feel.

*chuckles* But I'd best move on before I let the tide of sentiment sweep over me, eh?

Next, there is Ben, my brother in arms. I've known him the longest and we've been close friends over that entire interval. When it came to be that I moved to Auburn and met this quirky fellow, it would have been odd to consider the concept of what it would be like seven years later. For the most part, my closest friends have always drifted from me eventually, inevitable as life and people change, I suppose. But, for seven years, nothing has changed between us with the possible exception of greater mutual understanding. He's the only link that remains to the Nick that was, connecting to the Nick that is.

Quite the feat, I must say. Thanks for being there all those years for me, bro, I hope that going off to college doesn't change it at all. [heh, remember, shared apartment 15 minutes from our respective campuses, I'll hold ya to it. ;P]

Lastly, there is Linda. Linda is quite the anomaly within this list and life in general, as she is one of the people I have known for the shortest periods of time. Where in Kacie I have mutual understanding and in Ben I have a virtual mirror of action/reaction, it is hard to say what it is I have with Linda. You must keep in mind, that the people I have listed are the ones I am most comfortable being around, where I feel there are no gaudy expectations of me. I suppose that is an easy way to describe how I feel about Linda, I feel comfortable with her. I feel as if I can say anything and have it not count against me. That is something very important to me. I doubt that's the only reason I go out of my way weekly to drive down to see her, just to hang out. I just love spending time with her.

Kudos babe, so far you have the record for the shortest span required for Nickly comfort. Quite an achievement, just ask around. *L*

Well, that about sums up the friends portion. I'd like to mention you all, because I do enjoy each and every one of you in unique ways, but not enough to share the spotlight with these three. *chuckles*

I'm thankful my family turmoil has calmed down somewhat, though it's still a powder keg in waiting. My father refuses to believe he's wrong, so he just acts angry for a few days and ignores the evident problems. One of these days, he's going to make the final cut in our relationship and not even realize it.

My mother is great and I love her dearly, she's picked up on a lot of the subtle nuances of Nick that most people miss, even close family. I'm going to miss her probably the most when I leave for college.

The older of my two sisters, still younger than me though, is also someone I will miss when I depart. It was great when she overcame her bitchy adolescence and became a really nice person. She's even made friends with most of my friends and tried to join our group, in my mind, quite the high compliment.

The youngest sister is entering her bitchy stage, ask me again in a few years. *chuckles*.

Oh, and I'm thankful for my Philadelphia Eagles, damn they rock. :)

But I might as well end this verbose post and go eat some dead bird.

Catch ya on the flip side.

2001-11-21T23:17:00.000-05:00

I figured it would be only proper if I kicked off this infernal thing with lyrical quotation, as that seems to be the thing that people instantly attribute to me.

But I get ahead of myself.

I suppose it was the peer pressure that finally got to me.
"Nick, everyone has a blog these days."
"Nick, you're even part of a group one, why not have your own?"
"Nick, notice the smooth and bold taste, now that's good Blog for you."

What can I say? I'm weak at heart.

This is actually pretty ironic of a thing for me to do, considering I'm not the most open person that ever walked the face of the earth. I look around me and see all these other blogs that give rise to the most intimate thoughts people have, openly discussed on mostly public forums. Hell, I lack the ability to directly tell people how I feel about them, much less than clearly broadcast it to everyone I know.

But, then again, things always seem to be changing.

I'm afraid this won't be too interesting for some time, unless unforseen circumstances arise in the near future. I'm not angry with anyone, I'm not really confused too much at the moment, and with the exception of drama hell week, my life is pretty damn satisfactory.

The song I quoted is "Dun Ringil". Arguably the most interesting Jethro Tull song I am currently familiar with. I thought it was appropriate, as I feel like the watcher most of the time. I'm never part of the storm, I'm just wistfully watching it unfold.

Perhaps I'm too passive for my own good.

"Sometimes it seems the story's too damn real-
and in the present tense."

Again, appropriate.

But I digress.