why i like jazz

Jazz, I love. There is no genre of music that can replace the amazing, profound, pristine and lazy feeling I get as I listen to jazz. It is the perfect romantic, friendly, sophisticated, or relaxing background noise. It makes any normal setting seem sexy, personable, witty, perfect, peaceful. With just a slight and easily made change of mindset I can turn my full attention to anything else, and then when I choose to, change to being completely immersed and overwhelmed and into the music. It can be that main event or the reason everything seems so peachy-keen. It can take my mind off things bothering me, or it can give my thinking time about that thing a bias towards laid-back ideas and easy ways out of predicaments, and makes dramatic decisions seem meaningless and natural. It is one of the few genres that actually lessens headaches, not increase the intensity of them.

Some jazz has lyrics, some jazz does not. Lyrics are rarely the main event of the piece, and it only adds another line of melody. But, if there are lyrics in a piece, then it is most likely due and well crafted, and thus should be paid close attention to.

Jazz is my personality, or at least how I want my personality to be or how I feel my personality is at my best. If every time you meet someone new, you could have them listen to some jazz instead of actually talking to them (assuming in this alternate reality that it would be normal to listen to a song instead of having conversation or making introductions, and not rude or odd in the slightest) then wouldn't that leave the coolest impression about yourself to that person? You would walk away looking like you knew how to do everything in the most efficient and stress-free way.

I like jazz because there is never any image in my mind while I listen to to any one song. Let me explain. When I listen to rock, I might visualize the band or myself playing the music, or think about the words and have a little scene or images running through my head, to help me visualize what it is saying and what it means. When I listen to jazz, I know it doesn't matter what it means, because it can apply to so many things, so I am allowed to focus on the feeling. When I focus on the feeling it gives me, I can think about when I have had similar feelings in my life, and am I often impressed by how well they portrayed this in the music, regardless of whether it was their specific intention or not to describe a similar situation or feeling.

I also like the genre of dance for the same reasons. Seeing as how it is danced to jazz music and portrays the same feeling to the viewer as the music alone would, I still like it because it is playful and seductive and relaxing and intricate and peaceful and uncaring.

Listen to some jazz today. Stream my favorite radio station. Get lost in the feeling, take a nap with it running.

I also like jazz because saxophone players and drummers are hot. =P

maybe, maybe, maybe

If a secret wish, a classified desire, becomes a reality and one dismisses it or does not give the honor it deserves, or on a whim, rejects it, one cannot help feeling as if their original feeling down for not having this thing was severely uncalled for. It makes this person doubt if their sadness is true when it comes about on the next occasion, or if it is just another occurrence of something they truly don't want, but only take joy (or have just become accustomed to) in thinking about and theoretically wishing for.

One option is that I am too hard to please. When even my most thought of and wildest fantasies do not satisfy, perhaps even repulse me, you have to wonder if I would ever be happy.

Maybe I am just emo for the hell of it, whether or not my dreams are being fulfilled or not.

Maybe I did not know what I want in the first place.

Maybe my wishes are too real: what would I wish if given the opportunity? Most likely some kind of thing regarding someone I knew, that most likely will happen anyway even without the magic of wishes. Maybe I think too highly of simple things and assume them as so far away and imaginary so that I can have some kind of dream when really they are not that glamorous and not that hard to obtain.

Maybe the sadness is always unjustifiable. What I have wished for truly is great and I am here too afraid of my own heaven. Worried that it will be messed up, ashamed that I wanted it in the first place, self conscious about myself (not wondering how the 2nd or 3rd party would view it), afraid of commitment to my wishes (my fantasies ignoring sore facts about myself and my dislikes), and not considering everything else in my life situation before I made the idea.

Maybe I wish for things in such an unrealistic way as to never ever have it a reality, and then when I know I will not obtain it, I force myself and trick myself into settling for less, thinking it was my vague wish all along. Maybe I never specifically wished and anything remotely surprising and pleasant that happens I refer to as a dream come true.

Or MAYBE I just over-analyze everything. I do... but I swear that these are all left over "maybe" ideas, not things running through my head currently about actual options.

And no, this is not about you honey, not about you at all. Girl scout's honor.

finding the words

There are some things I would like to say, some experiences I would like to share, but I really can't. What I need to do is be able to say something, without admitting to it. Release my feelings on the matter and derive the meaning and revelation from it without obviously giving away my experiences. Why can I not tell you? I couldn't say that, for that would make it obvious.

If you find this post random and disjointed then I apologize for not being able to make it clearer. I have nothing to hide but everything to fear, and every reason to allow. Read this with careful consideration.

Who am I but me? Who is the other but themself? Who are they when they make these choices?

What is life but for living? What is love but for feeling? What are relationships but for indulging and relenting?

Where will it take me? Where will we go? Where am I but here?

Why do things happen but for the hell of it? Why is this happening but for good reasons? Why don't they know?

When will it end? When can I leave? When is the time but now?

I am not waffling or nervous as it seems I am with all these questions. Most of them are rhetorical, hints, or there just to throw you off. I'm not confused or anxious or self conscious or discombobulated or baffled. I'm not letting myself go against something I have set my mind to, nor am I doing anything or thinking about anything rash. I'm not convincing myself of something that is obviously false or true avoidable or unavoidable.

I'm simply letting my faith get the best of me... my faith that my speculated fear has no need in the current situation. I'm letting my brain catch up to my feelings and the rest of myself.

I just hope that my fear is not justified, my brain will catch up quickly, and that I can go about this with as much natural instinct and pleasantness as possible. But yes... I feel good about it. Whatever "it" is.

extended metaphor

I used to think that the pond was shallow. That all the complexity and emotional intensity people seemed to think of relationships and social situations and life decisions and tasks of the world were fake, exaggerated, unrelated to my life, and avoidable if I remained a bit more clever than the general population.

Then I stuck my foot in the pond and thought it deeper than I originally speculated. It seemed that I could be hurt when I didn't know how it was possible before. I saw that I had reason to be scared sometimes and that fear is sometimes not all fun and games. I knew how quickly lives can change dramatically, triggered from the smallest and seemingly insignificant factors. It was seen how strongly someone can feel, without even conceptually knowing the reason fully themselves. Also, the impact of life events and epiphanies on mental health and mood was obvious. The direct correlation of action and consequence and acceptance of action is more real than my younger self viewed. Possibilities seemed endless and I was taking precautions to protect my life and everything within and effecting it.

But really, the amount which I stuck in my foot was very close to it's full depth. I judged too soon and assumed it was far more complicated than it was; thinking it to be near the reaches of infinity as space is even as I only had circumstantial and brief evidence. This is not true. With knowing so little, I would be able to get by my entire life being no more stupid than others regarding my decisions and choices. Even though something could be and theoretically is as deep and expanded as space, it does not mean that the people in it are doing anything more complex or differently were they in a farther small place regarding limitations of complexity and reasoning.

Should my mindset be as if the pond is a shallow or deep?: The bottom line is that I could make the best decisions from much consideration of what the world is and how to deal with it and the idiotic people running it, or I could be one of the idiots contributing to it and enjoy the ride. God knows there is so much to learn, and a lot of it is worth knowing and discovering. But should I be hung up on knowing the reason for everything constantly? Nah, I'm just too lazy and it is too stressful. This does not mean I let my life go to shit because I think it does not matter. I care about myself as much as anyone does. I just get tired of going over the logistics of it all, if that makes sense.

Another thing: Having respect for and listening to and taking advice from people who are older than you is a valuable tool. What we are assuming when we do this is that they are you, essentially, but older. Who wouldn't want advice from themselves a few years from now? Would they not tell you how to do things more efficiently and enjoyably? We are also assuming that the world has not changed as much since they were in your situation, and that you will have the same opportunities and feelings.

These things, we can not assume. We can not assume that you are of the same social status and of the same intelligence. We cannot assume that you do not have more self control than they did or that you are psychologically different. We cannot assume that you have the same amount of determination about a specific thing, or have the same priorities and morals. People are different, and people do not want to listen to people who think they know better. Even if they do. And I hate people saying that "You don't understand yet, but you will." Because they don't know that I ever will, and they don't know that I have not yet experienced it and they do not know that I would not fully understand if they were articulate enough to describe it to me. Who cares if you "know"? You learned the hard way, I will too. Everyone does and you can't change that, and I am not going to base my life on the blind faith on something someone said that I either do not think I will be like at that age or that I respect for far different reasons than what they believe about life.

Life views are so vastly different at different stages in life and with different people that you cannot assume people are in the same position. Blanket advice does not work. Blanket advice, no one listens to.

9 years ago

I hope my inner child does not resent me for this. I am about to reveal her inner most thinking and beliefs to the world, and she has no power for it is in the hands of her very different, older self. I have talked of my younger self before. But that was interpretation of something I showed to my parents, not something which I kept hidden and secret.

When I was 6 years old, apparently I kept a diary. Not every day, but I have quite a few entries. After quite a bit of deciphering of childish handwriting and sentence structure I have gotten to a pretty good understanding of what I meant by everything I wrote. Not necessarily why or how, but in most cases what. I do not really feel like scanning them and letting you decipher it for yourself, so I will give you my best translation. Things unsure of in translation in brackets, while present-day comments are in the pretty color.

December 14, 1999

When the birds go
flying, you go to bed
and when they go
sometimes you go to
mountain.

This is interesting. It's like I have a weird misconception about how things effect each other. I would assume that "when the birds go flying" I would be awake, the birds signifying morning, but not according to this. Was I reflecting on how I never seem to see the birds? Do the birds represent something?...or are they just birds?

December 15, 1999

Jon's house is up.
They helped us.
The secret part [is to go]
up and up to get there.
There is Jon's house.
Where I love to play.

I really like this one. Obviously, I have a playmate named Jon, and his parents helped my mother find their house via phone directions. This was my simplistic view of directions...."up". I love it so much.

January 13, 2000

Animals are wild.
"Very wild"
"Daddy, why are animals wild?"
"Because they are born that way."

Apparently this is a conversation with my dad. I am not sure who was saying the first dialogue, maybe my dad. I should ask him to see if he recalls telling me this.

January 17, 2000

On a day like this
I'll be having a picnic
On a day like this
(there are more verses in this song)

I am pleasantly surprised to see that I wrote songs way back when, I wish I recalled or notated the melody. But ignoring that aspect, I really like the word choice. It not just "today I will" or "yesterday I did" or "someday i should", it's on a day like it. Maybe not today or tomorrow or any day in conceptual knowledge or realistic speculation, just some day, like this.

January 18, 2000

This poem is called When I go to school

When I go to school,
everything feels so different
because school gets harder every way.
It is fun for me.
Is it fun for you?

This is a little discombobulated and not much of a poem, but it really shows what I thought about "when I went to school". I admire that in a title of a poem.

January 19, 2000

This poem is called When I go to bed

When I go to bed,
I hope to dream
A [?] if I do
Because I love my dreams.

Again this "When I ___" formula of a poem. It's quite interesting and matter-of-fact. I am glad that I hoped to dream, and I wish I knew what that word I could not decipher said.

January 21, 2000

A family's a brother,
a father, a mother,
a sister, a grandma,
a grandpa and
everyone in your family.

Although I did not have a sister, I still included it in the definition of family, so I was more than saying "this is who is in my family", or "you only have a full family in you have these people", I was saying that if you have some of these people, you have a family. The perspective is still in child-form of course, no daughter or son or granddaughter or grandson or niece or nephew in the list, but that is expected.

January 31, 2000

Laughter, ho, ho, ho
One day I was drinking some milk and my brother made a funny sound and it came out of my nose.

This was my idea of funny...and it kind of is. When finally I understood what I wrote here I actually did still laugh.

April 10, 2000

Today we got to go to Hebrew school.

May 22, 2000

It is time to go to Hebrew school. I do not have a class but my brother does. He knows how to write Hebrew and read Hebrew. It is cool. Well, I do [think that], but my mom and brother do not.

June 16, 2000

A song I made up.

Baby fly into my heart.
Take it out, put it in your hat.
Put the hat on, feel the [?]
You should see me go bad.
All right now, all right now,
I don't know the way to my heart
but you do [a-huh?]
The end.

It seems very Edgar Allan Poe crossed with Britney Spears. And cute how I end with "the end".

June 16, 2000

This is a poem

Summer is coming
The sun in near
Take out your hats
And they'll be blown away.
See the sun shining in the earth.
Will we feel it's heat here next year?
The end.

June 24, 2000

Today I went ice skating. I glided until I landed on my bottom. It was cool. I cried 1 time. I fell on my bottom 7 times--well, around 7 times. I love to skate. [It is] my favorite [thing to do].
The end.

June 30, 2000

The world

Is it good or
is it bad?
The little seed in
the earth.
How does it get to me
When I am not earth?
The end.

A profound one... I would love your interpretation.

July 7, 2000

Parents are so great. They kept us safe through the years and gave us joy. I'll love it through 7, 12, 2073 and all the days.
The end.

Now, was I prophetically telling the date of my death at 79 years of age or was I just making up a random, arbitrary, far away number to signify a very long time comparable to forever?

Some of them are moving in their simplistic nature. Some of them make no sense and others are so true to someone of that age it is hilarious. I hope you enjoyed the window into my younger self's life, for this is the only way I have to accurately show it to you or to myself. These are not hazy memories, they are explicit ideas directly from my brain then to my brain now, and they are simply fascinating.

voices

I'm not hearing them, if that's what you assumed. I just want to speak on their behalf. Even though voices are the most outspoken of anything, they never speak for themselves (concerning their own existence.)

Over all, voices are quite an amazing thing. It's one of the many things that humans have trained themselves to identify slight differences in to discriminate one human from another. When I call the homes of my friends, I can usually (if I have called them at least once before) tell whether it is them or one of their family members who has answered by the tone and timber of their "Hello?". This is nothing amazing, most people have this capability, but I'm saying that even though I am good at it, I barely understand it and I find it amazing. I also find it amazing that with the slight change in someones tones or pauses that you can tell how they are feeling or if they are crying over the phone.

The Annoying Ones: In normal life and conversation, I usually hold nothing against people who talk oddly or annoyingly or immaturely. If their mouths are incapable of making certain sounds in the language for any reason, I can't blame them for that, and it usually adds to their character without much discrimination. If anything, it is viewed as a charming or endearing oddity.

But in performance, especially in performance where one's voice is a prominent attribute as it is in singing, acting, and professional speaking, a speech impediment or distraction is heavily annoying and confusing. Is this character supposed to have this impediment? Are they talking in this voice to make a point? How can they act so serious with such a hilarious voice? Why are they flaunting their voice when they obviously cannot speak without sounding like a baby? Why is THIS, of all things, their profession? Did they only get into this business because of their physical appearance? There is no way that their talent outweighs the disadvantage they have over every other person trying to make it in this business. And you may think I am being mean, but I am able to focus on the art people are giving me if I am not distracted by their voice and how they became popular and how disappointed they will be when no one can stand them anymore.

It is true that you could apply my third paragraph to argue my fourth paragraph. As interesting and differing voices add possible likability to people in sociable situations, so it may also in pop culture figures by increasing recognizability and relating to "normal people". How else do you think Fantasia won the third season of American Idol or that girl at my school manages to score a role in every play when she talks like a very proud 6 year old? I would be giving you my impression right now if you could hear me -_-

The Pleasant Ones: Every so often, I hear someone's voice and I decide that it is pleasant, that I would enjoy listening to their voice, even if it were saying nonsense or things I disagreed with. It is not whiny or inexpressive, not overly dominant or overriding in minuscule factors, not a monotone dribble with a nasally aftertaste or hinted with odd inflections and irregular pauses. IT isn't laced with annoyed sarcasm but has a charming wit and matter-of-factness that one would find in an old-timey movie. It is smooth and it appeals to me in some way, and puts the image of a good looking man or woman in my mind. Whether or not this be true to the actual speaker, the pleasant voice is still a very impressive attribute to any person.

erratic vs. direct dialogue

I have always been a person that wanted to look composed when presenting ideas. Whether it be in confrontations or conversations, in presentations or questions, in opinions or facts. Even if I'm making things up or not making sense, I want to understand what I am saying, why I have said it and what it means and how it will effect the future. I want to use the best possible words to tell people the information in the most feeling-aware, concise and logical manner.

I have anxiety sometimes about asking favors or questions of complete strangers for fear of wasting their time, frightening them, annoying them or making them feel bad that they do not know how to assist me. When asking directions or the time or what isle the toilet paper spindles are in, I don't want to look like an idiot and I don't want for it to take longer than is required.

When I speak from my brain, without any thought preceding on what it is I am going to say, sometimes I say very obvious, hilarious, unreasonable or consequential things. When my voice is ahead or going simultaneously with my thoughts then I am speaking directly what I am thinking and I cannot control what I say. This is scary. To do this I have to know that I do not have any feelings that would be of offence to the person I am speaking to, for they may come out involuntarily. And I have to completely trust them.

Sometimes it is necessary to speak this way because I could not say these things under the decisions from precedents or conclusive thought. I have always come to some kind of conclusion to guide my words and actions for my current life situation. There is a mental barrier not allowing me to look like an idiot or screw myself over. And if something goes astray that is not included in my plans then I either have to think quickly or speak with my thoughts. If the situation is pressing and I still don't know what is the best action to take in strategy, then I just talk; and I may end up saying things that I underestimated or didn't even know existed in my subconscious.

This is why I encourage inner monologue or even better, monologue or asides to help individuals sort out problems (see poll to right). With only "thinking" you are basing so much of your proceeding actions and decisions on feelings. Feelings that are usually illogical or pertaining to something completely wrong or unrelated to the idea at question.

To say things directing from your thoughts or "heart" you have to have a deep respect and trust of your own subconscious. And honestly, I don't trust it. I don't think that I can go along in life being the same as everyone else, going along as life comes and goes or takes and gives. I cannot do things as if they will all work out in the end and as if my feelings are either infinitely important or completely insignificant. I am better than that and I have the sense to trust my myself only until my frontal lobes catch up with it. Let me explain...

You see, there is who I am, and there is who I am. Let's rephrase that: there is who I would be even if I had met different people or had a different life or grew up on a deserted island, and there is who I have chosen to define myself as and what morals to follow based on the society I live in and what I admire in others. If I speak from my heart then I am subjecting the world to what I do not even know about myself, part or all of the person who would remain the same. Things that could be controversial or ill-spoken. Things that would hurt my friends or give me a bad reputation. Things that I never wanted to admit though they were thought, or even worse, things that my subconscious never wanted to admit. Things that I feel so guilty or distressed or traumatized or fearful about that I do not address, even to myself. How can I let myself be so transparent, so vulnerable, so open and honest that I am telling more to another than to myself?

I trust myself more than I do other people, but maybe I'm just lazy. I don't want to deal with my own problems or make more of a deal of them than they are. I don't want to seem screwed up to my friends or make them feel like I ask too much of them. I mean I don't actually need someone to tell things to, I can do that myself. And I don't need their advice, I do that fine myself also. It's not as if I have so many ideas that I cannot choose between one thing and another, I am quite decisive. I just want to seem as if I know what is going on. Composed, intelligent, wise. Even if I am not this way, I want to believe that I am to myself and to others, it's part of who I am. I don't want to be living life as everyone else is; changing my mind, looking like an idiot, causing personal distress.

Who knows, maybe I just like feeling vulnerable. Maybe it contrasts with my usual role as the more informed, advice giving, compassionate friend, and I find it interesting and exciting. Maybe it's a test that I did not even conceptually construct to see who really cares about me and who will give me the best consolation. Maybe I just like feeling like the baby, the little one, the trusting one, the dependent and expecting one in a relationship. And if I am not in a position to usually act like this then I have to regress sometimes and make myself feel like I am controlled, cared for, and protected.

In conclusion, I feel that what I say, at most times, should be a conclusion or a question with conclusive properties. All conversations include stream of consciousness, but when a conversation is in an emotionally insecure state, I need to either be in control of my feelings and my responses, or be with someone that I completely trust and respect.

one of my best poems

True Happiness

admire the simplicity of life
and weep of it's complexity.
mother the world
with your watchful eye.
take the world in
with deep breaths.
calmly fix your mistakes.
allow your frowns
form to smiles.

2 non-words

Sometimes in this blog I have been inclined to use a word that did not exist. For clarification, if you noticed them, they really do not exist.

manipulatism (noun): the practice and philosophy of being manipulative

newfoundly (adverb): in the nature of being newly discovered

But aren't they great? =D

obama

Is it redundant for me to say? Does anyone not know what this day is and what America has accomplished in the advancement of political leadership? Barack Obama has won the United States' presidential election. *screams and shouts of excitement and celebration coming from yonder* So what does this mean? It means he beat the other guy!

My first political memory is this day 8 years ago, the announcement on TV that George W. Bush would be our next president. I remember my dad using some foul-ish language even in tame mode for the 7 yr. old in the room with him, and I didn't really understand. "It's not that bad, is it? How bad could it be? Why do you care so much?" were the things I was saying and thinking. Kind of ironic isn't it? My brother at the age of 10, I'm sure understood the situation better, but he wasn't foaming at the mouth. My entire political memory is the Bush administration. And because of this, I think that my generation does not know how much better a democratic executive branch would be, and does not take this factor into account when choosing their party and representatives. So many of my friends just recently of voting age did not even register. A week before, I asked if they were voting, and some replied "oh shit!". Some just said that they didn't know who they would vote for so why bother? And others didn't care, they would rather go to a movie with their girlfriend of 3 days and slobber all over her than take a little time to fill out an absentee ballot. My dad says that "things just start working better" under a democratic president and legislature. I don't doubt it, but there is definitely a bumpy road ahead to change and fix what has occurred. I'm sure most of us can agree with most of this.

And for my Canadian friends, I'm sure we will be playing nicer with the other kids in the sandbox. Who knows? Maybe we'll trade juice boxes at lunch with you and you can teach me how to play doctor the way you do. Maybe me and that Mexico girl will have a better agreement about the wall between our forts at playtime. You can explain to me why you have two mommies and together we will go out in the sun during recess instead of sitting in the corner digging holes like we used to. We'll make a great friendship, Canada.

slight monocle obsession

In commemoration of día de los muertos, my Spanish class required us to decorated skull cookies today.

I realize now that the mouth is completely misplaced for being a skull shape, as well as the eyes should have been lower.

life balance

There are things that are necessary to do, and lives that I have to live. Obligations, requirements, inclinations, and unavoidable necessities that need to be kept in sufficient ratios to keep an enjoyable, prosperous, easy-going, productive and non-neglecting lifestyle.

These:

eating/sleeping
school life/homework
dance team
viola and guitar practice
love life/sex life
socialization with friends
various hobbies (blogging, listening to music)
family activities/interactions and obligations
personal time (plain thinking)

are hard to balance properly within my life. What is my top priority? My second? When choosing between the party of a dear friend and seeing a movie with my family, where is the priority? Lately I have had no time to watch tv (save a little on weekends) when I really do enjoy The Office and House. Frankly, I would rather blog or listen to music or think or waste time chatting with friends. But that's when I really should be doing my homework or making plans with a long-lost friend.

Most debated in my mind is the love life factor. As this overlaps with social life I am known to think that they are interchangeable. They surely are not. Is a love life just an extra thing I should have if everything else in my life is completely taken care of, balanced and secure? Or is it something that will relax, steady and put my life into perspective of what is most important (whether it be the relationship itself or not).

The way I figure it is that I will always have some certain bare minimum of procrastination and personal time that I just cannot live without, so I have to work my life around that, along with sleeping and eating and such.

I think as long as I stay happy and I have OK grades, that I am fine.

historical personification in theory

To get the "big picture" of a wide time time range of historical events, one learns the "most important" things, and tried to make sense of why large groups of people did the things they did "over all".

At what point was it that there was so much history one had the resources to learn of that one was resorted to personifying countries and social classes as individual people? I know it seems kind of redundant to be personifying people, but it's just as one personifies a bug. You guess what they are thinking by their actions, for have no way of knowing their thoughts

Do large groups of people really act as one? Are we referring to the majority of the population of that country or the governmental decisions alone? If it is governmental standings then yes, small numbers of people and wide statements representing a large population can be said to have dialogue. But still, how accurate are we in those examples? Quite a bit of history is inferred and deducted from hazy scriptures, badly translated texts, dug up toenails and word of mouth passed down from prostitute ancestors. I am not debating science. I am just saying; 1) who cares? and 2) aren't we all just people going around doing things? How would you feel if you never mattered in the story of 21st century society in textbooks later on? That no matter how much you went against the majority or the anti-majority, that you would never be remembered as a blood-thirsty absolutist tyrant would be remembered and mentioned in textbooks?

An individual rarely thinks about how an outsider would view the changes in trend and political movement, and how they are either part of the majority or against it. There is the now, and there is the then. The now is the now, and it will always be the now. Hell, even the then is the now for an individual, it's not too often that someone sees the changes they are taking part in as a historical event. Or perhaps the opposite; everyone sees everything going on in the now forevermore important, even though in a 26th century textbook it will be viewed as a bland, peaceful, perhaps even treacherous time that that child will yawn to. It makes me so mad at that futuristic 8th grader. PUT DOWN YOUR VIRTUAL SUN-BATHING GOGGLES AND PUT ON THAT HELMET THAT SHOOTS INFORMATION ABOUT THE 21ST CENTURY INTO YOUR BRAIN!!! Spoiled little brat. But the horrible thing is that I don't wish that I could learn more intensely about past times, because there is no intense information out there for me. Those times are boring in theory as these times are boring in theory.

But I do like the idea of speeding through all of history in such short summary. The idea that I have been everywhere and know what happened even though in reality I would need a time machine and a boat to know is pretty cool...in theory. Sometimes I just really don't care. I mean sure, it's interesting, but there is only so much interest I can have before i get tired of being interested. I want to be confused and angry and pleased and relaxed. I don't want to be constantly trying to know how the hell this or that lead to this thing and how 37 years went by with nothing theoretically important happening.

The very fact that I can get bored means I am not going fast enough and putting in enough personification for it to make sense and be interesting. I like social issues between people. So when countries and social classes are displayed as individual people, I can see why they ended up doing what they did and how they went about doing it.

But this does cause problems. Certain things do not make sense until I have a reality check and remember that these ARE very large groups of people, and that they will act differently than an individual. Things are harder to be kept secret, it isn't as easy to begin and end fights as instantaneously and it isn't as easy to stay in mental stability. If countries were individuals then they would all be bi-polar and crazy and homicidal and suicidal and dominant and submissive at the same time. These would be some very messed up people with some serious issues.

Heh...what if I were a country? Would I play nice with the other countries? Would I share my juice box with them at snack time?

antiquated vernacular

Often I use archaic and obscure language in modern settings to convince people of my respectfulness or sound more sophisticated than the meaning of my words is actually conveying. Some examples of such would be similar to this:

"Over yonder, I presume" as opposed to "Somewher over ther I THINK"

"Excuse me young gentleman, could I trouble you for the time?" in substitution for "Er um, shit forgot my watch! Hey, you, uh what time it be?"

"As do I" instead of "Yeah I know right?"

"Indeed", "How true", or "Indubitably" in place of "Yerp"

The funniest thing is when I mix in one sentence some wannabe ghetto terms or speaking styles with the inaccurate Shakespearean language. It takes some deciphering to comprehend meaning as I am not using usual terms consistently. Even more so when chatting online I can mix these two English language variants with 1337 speak; num83r5 1n p14c3 0f 13773r5, mssng vwls, and acronyms (lol). Taken to the level of pure incomprehension, I am known to throw in a spanish word every now and then to make it even more confusing. This takes superior brain power, and often I get annoyed at even myself for the odd image and character I am creating with the wirting style.

Has your bubble been burst? I am not a perfectionist, overly descriptive, precise or an informative writer. Or am I? I enjoy manipulating language. This can be executed various ways; one of which is to convey the meaning that I have to say, but do it is a long and entertaining way filled with my stream of consciousness on the subject, which you have seen on this blog. Another way to manipulate language is as such being described throughout this post, making people work for your meaning and being as eccentric as possible to make the normal things said be found newfoundly and unnecessarily interesting. (Not to mention the words I just plainly make up, hence newfoundly.)

That will be all. For now muahaha.

update

My newest favorite word is splendid.

strictly geometry

There is a point in someone's life when the details of their private life is beyond the line of decency in normal conversation. Sometimes you have to bite your tongue and internally smile or frown. The conversation becomes shaped around automatic and predictable responses to personable questions rather than further insight into either participant of the conversing or the happenings in their lives, which were the topics currently under speculation from the beginning queries.

I don't complain about being forced to have this objective at times. My angle is to tell the people who want to know and keep select segments of my life under the radar to the people who do not care.

There are certain properties about myself which make it difficult for me to control myself from bragging or venting to people I barely know.

I can get around this by only giving fractions of my private life to each person. And if somehow they all converse on the same topic then they might be able to figure out the entire story, but I doubt they have the mathematical minds to do such a thing.

one who has heart

Preface: Sometimes I wander between self consciousness and egotism. Between confidence and self belittling. I am used to being praised, and when I am insulted I take it hard. Is it jealousy? Meh, I've concluded sometimes it is. But it can't always be. Is it because people hate my personality? I doubt it but it may be true; some people clash, fight and breed awkward and confused silences in comments and understanding. But it is not the words that come from other's mouths that disrupt me deeply and make me question if it is all a lie. It is my own criticism backed up with hard evidence that I suck when I know that I thought I was great and I tried really hard. That's when it is unavoidable.

There is a culture in America concerning "heart". I am not sure if it is present in other countries in this exact form, but it is most likely slightly in some regard with religious, cultural, or moral ideas. It is the thought that one who tries their best with, or more culturally accurate, better than their best with good intentions, should and shall be rewarded for their efforts and personal determination.

In that statement I disagree with the words; shall, personal determination, and should. It would be a great world if this were true. And it is not a bad thing to live by in a lot of cases as long as one stays within jumping distance of reality. But it goes against my personal philosophy.

If I want to better myself at something, people need to tell me I suck, not that I have heart. Living in the mindset of a bettered image of one's self causes a black hole in the psyche between reality and understanding if the illusion is somehow broken.

Should: If one sucks, what gives them the right to win, to achieve? Is the world fair like this? I would not be myself if I didn't follow what I was good at. I like things because I'm good at them. Things I am not good at or would be good at, I rarely like. Who are these people who like things they suck at? People who grew up with overly encouraging parents, people who plainly suck at everything, people who grew up with people telling them this one thing was "the shiznits" and they have nothing else to strive for, and people who don't know when to quit. Do you respect these people? In theory, yes, they have their dream, they work for it morally and humbly and respectfully...but aren't they also selfish, ignorant, maniac, obsessed, hopeless, helpless, desperate, childish, and painful to watch? Should these people really be doing what they are?

Personal Determination: If I suck at something, I do not want to humiliate myself in front of people obviously trying but failing miserably every time. If it causes pain, don't do it. If you don't feel like it, don't do it. If the only reason, or most of the reason for one's doing something is being praised for how wonderful one is at that thing then there would be no reason whatsoever if their talent was lacking or nonexistent.

Shall: Heart perpetuates the idea that you can succeed if you try. And it is completely untrue. You can try with all your might and still fail. You can give your all and be thoroughly disappointed. You can never give up but still die. You can use all your connections and still get cut. You can do nothing else and screw yourself over. You shan't, you shan't, you shan't.

I don't care if I have heart. I would know if I had heart. Having heart does not define me.

But I am a hypocrite. This slightly goes against another personal philosophy of mine which is: If you believe it, then it is as good as true. And it applies here. As long as you think that you rock then you do.

Afterwards: It was not at the point that I realized I was a hypocrite that my situation subsided. It was when I realized there was no way out of humiliate myself and I had to go through with it and make the best of it. If I was going to be humiliated, I better be looking cool in my mind. And that meant giving it all and making a mental fool of myself. Well, I swore in my friends. If I sucked then I would murder them in their sleep if they did not tell me the truth. Thankfully, I did not have to get my hands into any illegal business (well regarding that anyways) and my friends greeted me with awe and praise at my non-suckage. Was it all in my mind? Was the evidence faulty? Did they lie? Were they too far away to see me looking retarded? Am I hallucinating? Or did my mind in that half self conscious state transform me overnight? Does it matter? No. Because I rock again, and egotism is at an all time high.

One last note: Rudy=bad movie

hippie preaching

"Do it or I'll kill you."

Doesn't this phrase, among scare you and shock you...sicken you? Just the thought that human nature could be so much more savage and uncompromising and down to the main point than we are supposed to view it. We are supposed to have faith that humans are above other animals and that we can be above the horrible truth of life...that it's about preventing our personal death.

We still use this technique so much..."Do it or I'll kill you." Or sometimes used "If you do it I'll kill you." We are saying it every time a person holds up a gun. In fact, on a more natural level, we are doing it every time we give a menacing look.

I want to know, am I the only one who gets this feeling? Isn't threatening of death is just a little too real, a little too vital to be threatening all around every day? Bang. Dead. Instant death. It's sickening. I mean granted, when it comes down to it, that may be the only way to get people's attention...but still. I can't stand it. I'm not sure if I've ever been that close to gun. I have seen them on cops that sometimes are security at school dances...but other than that, I am sure I would be very very frightened if I saw one. My parents used to check when I was younger with a friend's parents if they kept a gun in the house before I went over for a play-date. The didn't tell me this until a few years ago, and I was kind of shocked by it. I don't know why I was, maybe because I thought that a gun shouldn't ever come between two little kids running around and playing hungry hungry hippos. But I get it now. Guns kill people. That's their purpose. They kill. And what reason do we have to kill in this suburban place we live? None...it causes more danger than it does protection. The fact that people have a gun demonstrates that they have fear. What's more important is that where the fear is deriving from is death, the theoretical death of themselves and their family, which would inevitably be caused by a gun in the end.

You heard me. I said guns make more guns and perpetuate fear.

But maybe my younger self was right. Just because there is a gun, and people have fear, doesn't mean it will be used. People need placebos and things to set their mind at ease sometimes, is it really making me in danger? Have I crossed into the realm of over-fear? I mean, fearing death is one thing. Fearing guns is another. Fearing being in the far vicinity of one is worse. And as an odd fear, which I should address because I have, is fearing fear. Does this post not portray my fear of fear?

Living with nothing seriously threatening my life every day, I have learned to mostly ignore death. And when the subject of gun control comes up in politics I usually don't know what place to take my stance. But I do know that being held at gunpoint is a thing no one should experience.

We have come to far as a race to keep this simple and main forcefulness in everyday life...it's what is preventing us from moving on. Or maybe it is the only thing letting us move. If people weren't forced, by guns, to move in the same direction as each other politically and socially and technologically, would our technologies and social ideas be more widespread and intricate and developed? Or would they still be waffling around not knowing where to go? Would one person be in the same place that other person was a minute ago and then vice versa a few minutes later? Or are we actually evolving at the same rate, making us progress forward in the same way no matter if anyone is forcing us, by way of guns, to do so? Where would government and war be if we had no guns? (note: This is not about who was killed, even in large amounts, by guns that changed society, but how people have been able to make people do what they say by way of guns which changed society. Just in case you didn't follow what I said. )

I'm not sure if I made the point I wanted to. And I'm not providing any solution to the point you think I attempted to make. And I'm not disagreeing with the 2nd amendment, if that's somehow what you arrived at from the things said. I just dare you to disagree with what it is you found my point to be. I'm just giving my complaints and weirded out feelings and semi-disorganized tangent-like ramblings--something far from what I was originally going to say, but still did want to say at one point.

judaism...and other stuff

I am Jewish. Have been all my life. My family belongs to a Jewish Renewal synagogue. Have you ever read the Wikipedia article of your own religion or group or city? You never think to because you think you already know about it. And you do, but you don't know how to say it simply and in the way an outsider would.

Anyway, it's only been in the recent years that I truly "got into it". Sure, I liked it when I was little, but little kids like everything. Then I went through a phase of being too cool for it, then I just dreaded doing any kind of religious service. Then I questioned the entire idea of God so much that I felt weird and uncomfortable or just so blase about reciting prayers and going to services that I didn't really define myself as Jewish. Then, I felt this pride, this obligation, this calling that it was important even if I didn't believe everything that was said. Especially with the sect, it does not matter that much if I don't truly believe if what the Torah says actually happened, or if when I say the blessing for chalah in Hebrew I actually believe that God is the ruler of the universe. It's all subjective and I can think what I want to think.

In the past few years, once I had almost all of the chants and prayers learned through reading peoples lips when they sang and hearing them over and over again (I never was very good at reading Hebrew) I started seeing the meaning, the objective, the joy and sorrow in them.

Then I started to respect the religion. And when I go out of my way to remark that I respect something or someone, I really do. And when you respect something, sooner or later you will start agreeing with it on some level, even if you did not when you began respecting it.

Then, I started enjoying it, of all things. Before, when I was "too cool" for it, I was just trying my hardest not to look like I was enjoying myself. That was suppressed into resentment at the time. But when I realized there was no point doing that, I began having fun. To see a group of people singing and dancing and rejoicing is quite the experience, especially when it is to a song you have been hearing frequently since you were a few weeks old. The religion is part of me, without it I would still be me but, how did I get here? I was introduced to philosophical ideas in Sunday school and I'm sure it has given me the mind I have today. I owe a lot more to the religion than I think I do sometimes.

Now, I see meaning. I look past the songs, joyful or sorrowful. I look past the stories, but do take them into account. When the rabbi tells us to close our eyes and pray or think, I do it. I do it longer than my mother does. I listen to what is being said. I analyze it and relate it to my life. I figure it's as good if not better than any other source of philosophical questioning and answers. And what is more is that what is being said I understand. I get it. And it makes sense.

I love religion that not only allows but encourages you to make your own judgment, and set your own morals and reasons. Judaism gives just enough enforcement for it to all come together in your mind with perfect ease.

I still have not have had a batmizvah, a right of passage in Judaism. I wanted to, and my brother had a barmitzvah, but my mom never made as much an initiative to make me. Maybe it's because I was supposed to make more of an attempt to do this, seeing as how it's a ceremony of me becoming an adult. But my brother didn't even want to have one, and she forced him to. Is this why? Because he didn't want to therefore she thinks I don't want to? I want to have one, I always said that. Maybe it's because she thought she needed to do it for him because he didn't like the religion as much as I did, so she knew I would continue even without it. Mainly, at the exact time, it was because we were low on money. But why do it for him and not me? I think it's one of the things I resent her for. It was held over my head by my brother for awhile and it is still held by myself. Every time I go to synagogue I remember because I do not have a talit. And everyone in our congregation gets confused because I have not yet had one, and yet I look quite older than 12. -_- That is embarrassing. It's a different kind of humiliation because they are more understanding and warm and friendly than most people are, but I am still embarrassed because they expect things of me and I expect things of myself which were not achieved.

I will have one eventually. Maybe I should make that my summer goal. I'll consider it.

Anyway, why was I saying all this? Oh yes, I wanted to talk about the High Holidays but figured I should give some background information on why it is relevant and important.

It's High Holidays!! Yay! Rosh Hashana occurred last Tuesday and Wednesday and I took the first day off from school to attend service. The Jewish new year has been my favorite holiday for a few years now, ever since that one where I actually felt cleansed, happy, spiritual after going to service. Rosh Hashana is all about thinking about the things you did wrong the past year, letting them go, and making your goals for the next year. Honestly, I didn't quite make it to philosophical and mental cleanliness or peace this year, but it made me think. And it gave me a reason to analyze what I do wrong and how I can avoid conflict with others and with myself by adapting my behavior and mindset.

WARNING TANGENT ALERT: Mindset is everything. It's one of the words I truly believe in. And it seems an odd word to decide to believe in because it is so theoretical and changing in circumstance and only relevant to one who explores their psyche. There's no way to prove it exists. But, I see it as more real than say, the word chair. A chair is only seen and processed by the mind. And depending on your mindset it may look like a chair or something completely different, right? So, why not go straight to the source and believe in the word that analyzing the very thing you are saying in the first place?!
TANGENT ENDED: RESUME FOCUS

I still have a bit of time before I can announce the spiritual awakening amount of the High Holidays this year a failure or not. This Friday, which I shall also take off from school (take that AP European History test) is Yom Kippur. I will fast all day. I kind of see this holiday as: "If Judaism didn't get to you the nice way with sweet apples and honey, it's damn as hell gonna when we starve you!" Well, it isn't as hostile as that but, you get the idea. It's my second chance. I don't think I was "in the zone" as much as I should have been last Tuesday. I was more focused on ridding my faults of the past week, as they were a little high in multitude than normal, rather than thinking about the entire year and all my tendencies.

But, Rosh Hashana was a good experience. A few weeks before service I got a call from the congregation requesting, well more like telling me, that I do "something" for the children's service. Every once in awhile they ask something on a teen to do something or another. Last year I "did" the food drive. Really all I did was make an announcement and stable some fliers to paper bags, but everyone was very thanking and complimentary. I felt a little guilty because I made sure I only had to do the minimum of work. Hey, organizers can pon off work and get the most credit. But it's also the most stressful. You aren't a worker bee, you're the queen. If you stop doing your job then the hive falls into pieces and the bear steals the honey. Alright i honestly did not mean to take that analogy so far, I deeply apologize!

Anyway, I waited until the night before (when all great ideas arise) to figure out what to do for the children's service. Being the good Jewish girl I am, I googled "Rosh Hashana songs" and picked one I recognized; the more mopey version of B'shana Haba'ah. I youtubed the song and picked out the notes on my viola. I kept the note names in notepad and when my mom came home she helped me with a passage she thought "sounded different". Now, she isn't the most on-key singer, so it took me awhile to figure out what she meant by "higher on the second note" or "di, di, di", but she knows this song well and she has an ear, so I took her word for it and tried my best. I ended up realizing I completely overlooked the key I was in, which would have helped me out in knowing what note was wrong, and felt really stupid when it was an Ab/G# all along. She was right, it was not the right melody, and I thank her for helping me with that. It was fun, as it is when we talk about the word choice in an essay I am turing in. When she is singing a song she does sing the notes correctly, but it's not as if she's a musical genius and could tell me how exactly something is off, sing happy birthday in the same key I start with or compose music, but she was as good of a help as anyone else would have been, save a musical genius.

SIDE NOTE: The notes were never "wrong". It's just that I play viola, so I am used to hearing the harmony predominantly over the melody. But seeing as how I was going to play solo, it was necessary to have the melody so that people would recognize, enjoy and understand what I was playing.

In the actual performance in front of about 15 children and their parents, a woman, who was my Sunday school teacher when I was very young, sang the translated chorus along with me and encouraged the young ones to also sing. "You will see, you will see, how good the year will be." I played OK. I should have done it a little slower to start off, because I got a little tripped up from my own letter notation of notes on notebook paper, but it was good enough. I saw a lot of awe in the kid's eyes when I finished, and it pleased me. Not to mention the endless thanks from parents and congregation members when they heard me preform or heard that I did preform.

SIDE NOTE: A lot of times I act surprised or modest when receiving thanks or getting praise. "You did such a wonderful job." "*slightly confused look* oh! oh um, thank you, the pleasure was all mine." Even if I am expecting it or would be disappointed if I did not get any, I still act that way. Why is that? I mean granted I do get it in unnecessary excess at times, but, who's to say I don't thoroughly enjoy it even so?

More to come on other things later in life...most likely later today.

word

I have come to learn that most words people use I don't think are real. This is because of various reasons.

Sometimes it just strikes me that a word...is funny. It's just random sounds. And although I know the intended meaning, I can't seem to get over the fact that it doesn't seem like the words around it. I get a reality check on what language is--various sounds understood widely to convey meaning. It creeps me out to feel that what we depend on as a society to communicate and function is completely fabricated and so borderline to nonsense. It's as if I am that close to being completely useless and helpless in this society, if only I had the barrier between my thoughts and language or between sounds and processing. How much of our brain is really accomplishing this? It can't be much. Perhaps this is a factor of autism.

Sometimes I just don't...get a word. "How could that, of all things, be a word? Why is it even in our language?"

A lot of times I just don't believe in a word. Not morally, not physically, not conceptually (I don't even know the exact definition of this word, but I am SURE it fits here), not socially. I just don't think it should ever be used. And I think that the world is better off without it and I decide not to believe in it. If someone says it, then I remark to myself, "Pffft! That's not a word!" And these aren't cuss words, if that was the line of thinking you were following, a lot of times those fit more into the first category. These are words like "unique". It's so overused, misused and unjustifiably used that it has been thrown out of my vocabulary. I refuse to say it (this would be the one exception.)

Words...what a joke. I laugh in the face of words. Come to think of it, words don't even have faces. They are such cowards that they can't even look me in the eye and tell me what they mean and why they are here and if they are necessary. Words are a figment of our imagination, get real!

The telekinetic communication age will be much more efficient and less confusing.

lies! they're all lies!

Lies.

Is it really that bad to lie?

What constitutes a lie anyhow? If I asked a question and one did not answer, would it still be a lie? You did not tell me the truth, is it therefore a lie? Is a lie knowing the answer and not saying it? Is it called a lie if you only say partial truth and don't specify on the rest well knowing?

A person who is completely silent can be a liar, can they not?

Does it depend on the guilt one has? It can't be that, for what if a compulsive liar feels no guilt for their lie? Is it still not a lie? Maybe it's, from a normal standpoint, the amount of guilt a moral person would have for this lie under the circumstances and knowledge had when the "lie" was made. (For instance, if I as a child had said that I liked marshmallow peeps, but later on despised them, it would not be a lie, only a misconception.) But that is nearly impossible to gauge.

Should an ignorant person be chastised for lies when they are only overconfident and know no better? If they should be then the human race is a group of horrible compulsive liars. Is there even any religious group who specifically recognizes lying as a sin? I'm not sure, someone help me out with your worldly knowledge.

Personally, I think I have cut down on lying. I do not see reason on most occasions to lie. I think I rarely just "lie for the heck of it". Who lies like that? Weirdos that's who. If I lie, it's to keep myself out of trouble (trouble caused by myself or trouble directed towards myself.) Sometimes I lie to myself. That one is kind tricky, but it can be done. Sometimes I lie to help out a friend in defense to or from authority or peers. Sometimes I lie for my own major convenience in relation to the other side's nonexistent inconvenience. ("Did you turn in your paperwork to the office?" "Yes.") I lie in the sense that sometimes I do not tell the whole truth to people I am talking to when they think I am spilling my guts to them. So, said in this way it sounds like I lie a lot. But the thing is that I do not consider them lies. I consider them living. What is life if you only state true facts and few opinions? All opinions are lies in some way, how could they be true if only so many people agree? How is "truth" defined anyway? Is there a truth fairy? (lol I'm sure it's been done don't praise me) I rarely ever state facts frankly, everything that spews out of my mouth is rhetorical or theoretical questions and opinions.

So yes, I am a compulsive liar. And I love it. Do I feel pride? guilt? Yes, yes.

why i don't capitalize titles

Titles already have enough emphasis put upon them. First of all, they are the first thing that is seen in the piece of work, appearing first, and on top. Second of all, on a blog such as this they are appeared bigger and in a more visually interesting color. Third of all, I do not want to be too forceful in anything said in a title for it is not a separate point that is being made, especially in a longer post or work. It is only restating the most interesting or hilarious phrase or it is summarizing the entirety of the work with different word choice than the work itself. Fourth of all, I want to be weird and modern and slightly informal and eccentric. And I want to have a trend and stick with it. So unless I want to go back and change all of these titles, the deed is done and there's no changing it! If you can't fault or beat your own system then continue taking part in it.

The only part I disagree with myself on is the fact that I do not capitalize the word "I" in titles. It bugs me, but I know that it would bug me more if I left it the only word capitalized around all those lower-case letters. It would make me want to capitalize the first, and then the entire system would be screwed!

As an added bonus, if I put a title in all caps then you will KNOW I mean business. If you did not know that, then I am warning you now...capitalization means important stuff in title land.

I am rambling...but some things just must be addressed! No, no, I know I've become a fanatic blogger it part. No need to tell me I swear! I only want to live and ramble! If you want to avoid my rambling then never ever read the last paragraph of my posts! (They are almost always rambling about something or an attempt at a bad joke or completely unrelated anyway.) Look at me, I'm rambling about rambling. That's most likely why I feel inclined to keep on doing so, it seems such a waste to stop now. And the more I mention it within the text the more ridiculous it becomes! Oh dear now I'll never stop! Oh look I just did. Oh wait, I'm still going. Wait no I'm running out of steam...yes...right about....now. Dammit...now.

Somehow, other people think that upper-case letters are more neutral than lower-case. It makes no sense. Lower-cases are must more common in writing that upper-cases. Do they use upper-case more often because of this? The few makes it more important? Supply and Demand? What are we talking here? This does not apply in this context! Scrabble tiles, alphabet soup, letter of the day on sesame street show the capitalized version first, the was my English teacher writes on the whiteboard, it's all capitals all the time. OOH LOOK! LOOK HOW OBNOXIOUS AND BIG I AM! LOOK AT HOW MY INNER MONOLOGUE IS SCREAMING. EVERYTHING I DO IS IMPORTANT SO I'LL JUST WRITE EVERYTHING CAPITALIZED. CAPS LOCK IS MY FIANCE. I TAPED THAT BUTTON DOWN.

Get a life, people. Put your titles in lower case, it will make the world a better place. =)

poetic mindset

Inner monologue the other day: "An empty blue hallway. Six blue doors open simultaneously, and out they come. The people are going to their jobs, in their clothes. The dead cat on the sidewalk is trampled by their incoming shoes. Lights come into sight over the top of the hill, and through mist a roaring mass appears. The bus is desolate. The driver still yet announces location. Ambition and purpose, meaning and attempt is no longer relevant. It's just them, on their bus, going to their job, in their clothes."

I know what you're thinking, I must have been depressed when I was on the bus. I don't think so though, I was just being cynical and entertaining myself with what I saw in an internally verbally descriptive way.

delayed interpretation

There are some things that you do not question. There are some things you have gotten so accustomed to from your entire life that are so familiar that even if they are not entirely understood, you're never shocked by them. The Star Spangled Banner is one of those things. I don't think I ever have tried to understand why they are saying the things that they are in the song, but I have now. I don't know why I began thinking about it, but I did.

"Oh, say, can you see, by the dawn's early light,
What so proudly we hail'd at the twilight's last gleaming?
Whose broad stripes and bright stars, thro' the perilous fight,
O'er the ramparts we watch'd, were so gallantly streaming?
And the rockets' red glare, the bombs bursting in air,
Gave proof thro' the night that our flag was still there.
O say, does that star-spangled banner yet wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave?"

I never really saw the true patriotism in the lyrics. I never saw the pride and the happiness the author must have had. The last line is truly poetic. The image of a giant flag waving over the entire country, land of the free and home of the brave, is so inspiring and fantastical.

I've had pride in my school before, sometimes even my city, but never for my country. And I'm not saying I do now, but how could one not have any shred of patriotism for their country? On some level, even if I know the entire world hates the United States and that we are in an unjustified war and our economy is plummeting to the unfathomable deep, I see the aim when the country started, and I respect it. There are a lot of things and people I completely disagree with, but do honestly respect. And I think the emphasis on war in the Star Spangled Banner is a little unsettling in theory, but puts such a nice spin and view of it that it's OK.

At the minimum, I respect the author.

It's kind of a shame how lackadaisical so many Americans, including myself, are about their country. Sure, we may have good reason, or maybe it is influenced by the fact that so many of us are only 1st or 2nd generation Americans, but is it not righteous to root for your team even though it is a cheating, obese, oil guzzling team? Although the fact that so many different cultures are able to come together in "peace" and "harmony" is what emphasizes so much pride in our "free" country.

At the most, I love my country.

self explanitory long sentence

Because of the restricting and concise essay format that my English teacher is insisting on, my only option is to manipulate my writing style to adhere to long, complicated sentences in order to fit all the ideas into my essay that I want to, and which he insists on receiving if he so will give me a good grade.

I feel like Charles Dickens with all these commas and semicolons and m dashes. For I must only have two "commentary sentences" proceeding a "concrete detail". And to do this I must dehydrate my wording which kills my writing style and "voice"! (Which English teachers go on and on and on about.) Also, I have much more than two ideas connected to each "concrete detail" because I am just deep and amazing in that way!

So how do I tolerate this format? I cram as much as I can into English language and be so annoyingly concise and deep and sickeningly detailed and never-endingly descriptive that he'll BEG me to use more sentences for the following essay! It'll work right? Or will I just become so adapted to the style that I take it up permanently? *shivers* Please tell me if I start doing this!!!

I may post it here when I finish, which shall be quite soon. I think it's turning out pretty well considering the circumstances.

this is my friend "im"

im does not know how to use apostrophes.

Nor can he ever capitalize anything correctly.

im is friends with lots of people who use Myspace and chat and comment on Youtube videos. im doesn't like it when people use correct punctuation, grammar and spelling because it makes im feel like he is stupid.

The trolls don't like im. And im does not like the trolls.

This is im, I'd like you to meet him.

these cookies...

There's something about them. I can't quite put my finger on it.

But they are weird. They are pre-done everything except the baking step. Oatmeal raisin cookies, it's very nice, but the weird part is that flavor...

I think it's nutmeg. It's a shitload of nutmeg. I mean there was so much nutmeg I thought it was supposed to be some kind of mint or cinnamon or licorice. But...it's definitely nutmeg. I'll consult the package later to confirm.

Other than that they are delicious!

i have (a) soul

"My soul is composed of things about myself which my mind knows, but will never analyze."

What is your soul? My interpretation is that it is the core components to who you are, what you believe in, and how you would act in any given situation compared to others. So, does you soul change? No, but it adapts to what your life situation is currently. Or does it? Maybe it's the same, but you just haven't had the life experience to put more insight into it.

I'm damned if I know what I truly believe, how I truly act and why I do it. Sure I have ideas about this, my mind knows some of it, but will my mind ever analyze WHY I do these things and think these things? Maybe it will make sense generally, but it's not as if everything I believe derived from a memorable experience and epiphany.

Soul is often described as their driving force. "I've got soul." It's used by basketball players and jazz musicians, but why do they have soul? They don't know, it was never analyzed.

It's often described as something entirely linked to religion. In Christianity one's "soul" is eternally damned or ascended to heaven. Why do they have this faith of God? They don't know, it was never analyzed.

i am not in denial

I have been told that I give good advice.

But I have also been told, although not that much, that I overstep my ground on advice; that I don't know what I'm talking about yet I still give them my opinion.

Some think I do this because I feel superior to them and I think that my first instinct is more valid than theirs. Some think I do this because I am just too good a person for my own good. Is it because I feel guilty if I don't help them? Is it because I don't deal with confrontation well? Is it because I have a fear of inconveniencing people?

Regardless of why I do it, or the connotation it gives off, is it an OK thing to do?

In a lot of cases, I help people. And even if they don't like my solution at the time, they thank me for it later. In a lot of cases I really don't know what their best choice would be. But I do know most likely what I would do and I let them see their options. I know that if I did not know all my options that I would often be making the wrong choice. And if they do not see all the options they have and the possible outcomes, then I fear they will make the wrong decision. It's like I am projecting my own fear of wrong decisions onto my friends, and I use the best of my ability to help them know if they are making the wrong one. It's better to know where you made the mistake than wonder where your life went to shit.

I am a fanatic about these things. If I have a decision to make, I either completely ignore it because of my lack of time and mental stability and focus and determination to accurately and thoroughly find a solution, or I plow through it. I find every minuscule thing that could and will go wrong and I have a set plan in my head so that I may act quickly when the moment comes to proclaim or take action on my decision.

With consulting people about problems, I am often "playing psychiatrist." With close friends it is more personal, more emotional. But if I don't feel connected with the person, I become a little harsh in my statements about their options, especially if it is a defining decision in their life.

If the problem they have is more philosophical, less critical, more emotional, I usually just be contrary for the hell of it. It makes them realize that their first instinct was right or it makes them rethink their entire situation. And I realize now that this is also most likely a psychiatric technique. This method does not work with very waffling and mentally unstable people. They often get overwhelmed with the options I put before them and become more distressed. If my plan backfires on me like that, then I give them my interpretation, and it usually sounds something like a-this: "Don't worry about it for now, relax, listen to some music. If ___ happens then ____. But if not then just remember, and this is the most important part, to definitely NOT ____."

In the end I feel kind of like a teacher, wanting them to answer the question themselves. Somewhat like a lawyer, trying to convince them of what I think is the best way to go about things. A lot like a nurse, helping them recuperate And on many occasions a bit too manipulating for my taste, like a lion tamer.

I find it sickening to leave someone in the lurch, heartless to not respond, or to make them (or make them think they need to) hide their feelings and problems. I think the satisfaction of helping them isn't a big part of it. I honestly feel their pain, and if I can't bring myself to do that, not ever being in a situation remotely the same, I share their fear, and worry about them.

But I wonder, why do people come to me with problems? Do I appear comforting? Am I the only friend they have that wouldn't belittle them or hurt them? Do I encourage them to tell me too much? I'm not complaining, talking to people about their problems is one of the biggest things about me, I've been doing it since 4th grade with the girl who could not for the life of her say "no" to someone. Maybe even before that.