Friday, November 4, 2011
Hmm...
This is me doodling.
http://a5.sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-ash4/s720x720/392226_2632675541864_1404662457_33025781_1480600965_n.jpg
http://hphotos-sjc1.fbcdn.net/hphotos-snc7/315729_2632682742044_1404662457_33025787_364101299_n.jpg
and here is a cellphone.
http://a1.sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-ash4/392226_2632675621866_1404662457_33025783_729767569_n.jpg
oh, and I also found this.
http://a4.sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc7/392226_2632675661867_1404662457_33025784_534837672_n.jpg
It makes me warm and such, surprises like this.
Whenever I try to slip a little note into the lunch I packed her, or into her drawer in the Creative Arts class, I always find something later that she made for me that completely tops what I made earlier.
Heh. Of course I read her blog. I keep forgetting to tell her that, though.
My head hurts. My eyes are dry. I only smell dog and cigarette smoke.
But... I only thought about those things long enough to type them.
Now I'm thinking about...
Lex is at her friend's house. She has my cellphone, else I would be texting her instead of writing this. I guess getting a good grade is good.
Facing away from my computer monitor, I can see a brick wall and a fireplace. The high-pitched voices of children's sitcoms invade my ears.
...So annoying.
Either I dislike too many thinks (due to over-thinking), or more things need to change and/ or not exist. Of course it's the latter, there's nothing wrong with over-thinking.
I'm ranting, shut up. This is a rare thing for me.
http://a5.sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-ash4/s720x720/392226_2632675541864_1404662457_33025781_1480600965_n.jpg
http://hphotos-sjc1.fbcdn.net/hphotos-snc7/315729_2632682742044_1404662457_33025787_364101299_n.jpg
and here is a cellphone.
http://a1.sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-ash4/392226_2632675621866_1404662457_33025783_729767569_n.jpg
oh, and I also found this.
http://a4.sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc7/392226_2632675661867_1404662457_33025784_534837672_n.jpg
It makes me warm and such, surprises like this.
Whenever I try to slip a little note into the lunch I packed her, or into her drawer in the Creative Arts class, I always find something later that she made for me that completely tops what I made earlier.
Heh. Of course I read her blog. I keep forgetting to tell her that, though.
My head hurts. My eyes are dry. I only smell dog and cigarette smoke.
But... I only thought about those things long enough to type them.
Now I'm thinking about...
Lex is at her friend's house. She has my cellphone, else I would be texting her instead of writing this. I guess getting a good grade is good.
Facing away from my computer monitor, I can see a brick wall and a fireplace. The high-pitched voices of children's sitcoms invade my ears.
...So annoying.
Either I dislike too many thinks (due to over-thinking), or more things need to change and/ or not exist. Of course it's the latter, there's nothing wrong with over-thinking.
I'm ranting, shut up. This is a rare thing for me.
This is what you people sound like:
"Woah, that's so good. I love that color.
You're really good at" shut up, stop talking. These are thoughts, you silly classmates. These are not helpful comments or constructive criticism that would help you or I in any way. You're polluting the air of smart people with your ridiculous, trivial, absolutely trite statements of your brain's side notes, you silly nothings.
Take no offense, that was the insensitive part of my brain.
This is an example of how I think.
Zach Meyers' Blog posts that were due ten minutes before he started writing this:
(That^ was going to be the original title of this blog post, but... thought otherwise.)
(It's the end of the third of November, and I've yet to forge my last three blog posts.
The previous sentence should be ignored, as should this one.)
Since the summer ended, I feel like I've been getting older exponentially. Not older, just... less kid-ish. Many bad things have happened since then that I've managed to keep my cool over by "sciencing" my way through the situation.
Many more good than bad things have happened, and they've proven to be excellent destractions from my school work. I have no regrets for anything I've done this year, I just wish people... thought.
This first marking period in my Creative Arts class, I've learned that when you combine miniscule fractions of a year of drawing, painting, book-making, crafting, and other fun stuff, it is called "Creative Arts." ...I miss the multiple art electives...
I've also learned that being told to draw fruit is much less enjoyable than drawing something else.
Something with actual emotion or mentality, or... some other big word.
Apples are only good in my digestive system. Other than that, I've been scarred from them.
I'm writing this at 12:01 pm. Good people can be so hard to find, but once I find one, I immediately build my relationship with said good person. My definition of a good person is most likely different than your, because mine involves having an experienced life; learning from the consequences and rewards of the actions of others and oneself. Instead of calling these people "good," I usually refer to them as "broken," in that they've broken away from the norm of social standards. I feel silly saying that, because when other people say it, they're... dumb. I'm not.
Broken kids are good. When they aren't, it's because their brain isn't good.
Saying my thoughts out loud can be difficult. It makes me feel like a jerk sometimes, because I talk about how many bad people there are, and how much I'd like things to change (without doing anything to change anything). I hear some people talk too much without thinking. I think too much without talking.
I set up so many hypothetical conversations in my head, that I just think, "nah, I probz already know they're opinion," and disregard the person I may or may not have talked to.
WITH the exception of my "broken" people. They always have something interesting to say or think, and I'm good at getting people to say what they think. I don't like it when people don't. I don't sometimes, when I'm trying to be decisive with my words, or I'm around people who's opinions I don't care about.
I wish written/spoken language was never invented. It takes so much effort to convey one's thoughts from brain-nonsense to english words.
Telepathy would make everything so much easier...
But then, it's also comforting writing within the laws of written/spoken English. I don't like how sentences, phrases, and words have been warped and completely modified to express the silly thoughts of silly teenagers and adults with handheld devices and other kinds of electronic keyboards.
I do give the occasional "lawl" out loud every once in a while. It's how the acronym, "lol" sounds in my head.
Wow, I am amazing at the English language. I apologize for writing my thoughts in the monotonous method of 1st person, I don't do this often. I like doing this. I should do this often.
(That^ was going to be the original title of this blog post, but... thought otherwise.)
(It's the end of the third of November, and I've yet to forge my last three blog posts.
The previous sentence should be ignored, as should this one.)
Since the summer ended, I feel like I've been getting older exponentially. Not older, just... less kid-ish. Many bad things have happened since then that I've managed to keep my cool over by "sciencing" my way through the situation.
Many more good than bad things have happened, and they've proven to be excellent destractions from my school work. I have no regrets for anything I've done this year, I just wish people... thought.
This first marking period in my Creative Arts class, I've learned that when you combine miniscule fractions of a year of drawing, painting, book-making, crafting, and other fun stuff, it is called "Creative Arts." ...I miss the multiple art electives...
I've also learned that being told to draw fruit is much less enjoyable than drawing something else.
Apples are only good in my digestive system. Other than that, I've been scarred from them.
I'm writing this at 12:01 pm. Good people can be so hard to find, but once I find one, I immediately build my relationship with said good person. My definition of a good person is most likely different than your, because mine involves having an experienced life; learning from the consequences and rewards of the actions of others and oneself. Instead of calling these people "good," I usually refer to them as "broken," in that they've broken away from the norm of social standards. I feel silly saying that, because when other people say it, they're... dumb. I'm not.
Broken kids are good. When they aren't, it's because their brain isn't good.
Saying my thoughts out loud can be difficult. It makes me feel like a jerk sometimes, because I talk about how many bad people there are, and how much I'd like things to change (without doing anything to change anything). I hear some people talk too much without thinking. I think too much without talking.
I set up so many hypothetical conversations in my head, that I just think, "nah, I probz already know they're opinion," and disregard the person I may or may not have talked to.
WITH the exception of my "broken" people. They always have something interesting to say or think, and I'm good at getting people to say what they think. I don't like it when people don't. I don't sometimes, when I'm trying to be decisive with my words, or I'm around people who's opinions I don't care about.
I wish written/spoken language was never invented. It takes so much effort to convey one's thoughts from brain-nonsense to english words.
Telepathy would make everything so much easier...
But then, it's also comforting writing within the laws of written/spoken English. I don't like how sentences, phrases, and words have been warped and completely modified to express the silly thoughts of silly teenagers and adults with handheld devices and other kinds of electronic keyboards.
I do give the occasional "lawl" out loud every once in a while. It's how the acronym, "lol" sounds in my head.
Wow, I am amazing at the English language. I apologize for writing my thoughts in the monotonous method of 1st person, I don't do this often. I like doing this. I should do this often.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)