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I've been considering the proposition of talents a lot lately. Trying to figure out if we all are truly born with "talents" the TV tells us we have when we're children. If these abilities are innate or just the hard work of someone who is used to doing hard work. If you attempt to study for the first time in your life, you'll understand at the rate of a tortoise, but if your studying a completely new subject while going through the process for the 100th time, you'll grasp it at a higher rate (giving off the illusion that your a natural). So lets assume that it is innate, and that the A student in class was born with a talent. Then consider that we are all born with talents. Which talent is the best one to dig through life with? Are there "master" talents (IE: Copying other talents), sort of a psychological evolution of mind-X-Men. The kid in the corner having the ears of Beethoven, the one in the front has a mind quicker then speedy Gonzalez, the one in the middle tired but photographic in memory, the loner nothing but imaginative exploding imagery when given a pen to write or draw. This is what I was grown up with, this is what we are taught in children now in days (at least during the late 90's). That somehow everyone in society has their own "ability" that no one else has. Fuck Immortal lost my train of thought.

I relapse like a bitch when it comes to games. Thankfully I've learned to let go of them over the years to the point where it doesn't effect me as much as they used too. Yesterday I went out for a walk for the first time in months, it was rigorous! When I came back my shoulders where hurting, from a walk! I know it's not something to be proud of, but I felt alive, I felt human, and here in reality. Instead of still in a fucking imaginary world where the only pain I feel is the pain of loneliness. I'm not saying I feel lonely on this board, hell this board has helped me so much through out the years , I only hope it continues (and GC as well) to push forward through all the hard times (of inactivity) to a point of normal settlement. Switch Up: The Deer Hunter - The Procession So yea, I took Human Anatomy this semester, I can already tell you I'm scared too shit. I don't know how to study, people tell me "open a book", I've always lived with a "click or quick" attitude towards knowledge. This isn't clicking for me, at all, and I do have to partly blame my attitude towards it (as in not trying), but the fear isn't helping at all. My other classes are general credits, although for Humanities I'm going to write a paper on Vivaldi and the Four Seasons. Specifically Summer, my favorite of the four so that's a bonus. Switch Up: Eminem - Beautiful I know I'm disappointed with his new album, extremely disappointed. But this one song is a hit, I dare anyone to listen to it and call it trash. It's message is some shit we all need in our lives plenty, even the smiley types that seem to be perfect all the time. O another thing I did yesterday was delete Guild Wars. I think I went a month and a half of it this time. I took it out because my semester started and I still haven't done much study time. Hell I haven't done much of anything since I installed it, just wake-play-eat-shit-bath-sleep-wake-play... If I manage to get somewhere in life where I end up studying the Human Mind I know I'm going to have to devote some of my time to the "MMO Addiction". You don't need years of study to realize that too much of anything is a bad thing, but maybe there is a way of stopping it from occurring inside other people's heads. Or destroying it all together, what if addiction was destroyable by a simple drug? Would it be right to implement that into some of us? Maybe it's because "addiction" exists that we know our limits, or is the exact form of obsession some of us have with things we love. That's an over thought for you right there. Well, I'm gonna go walk again, when I come, I'm going to open my text book, hopefully read instead of falling asleep.

It's weird, and messed up. But I hate everything. How can anyone possibly hate everything? I'm asking myself how it's possible to even appear hateful in this world. Those that expose anger and fronts constantly do so in the act of "love"; yet they appear to hate more then I do. So how is it that in reality, I end up hating the world more? I "pretend" to be nice yes, I "act" sincere and caring for sure. But I only do it because I honestly don't know how to feel anything like that. I have been put in situations where I am unaware of causing pain until the person I'm facing has been brought to tears. It spooks me every time too, I remember once screaming the entire day to my mother, she just ticked me in the wrong direction that day. From morning till nightfall any request made by her or statement was welcomed with my shouts of agony and "emoism". It wasn't until that she started crying was I aware of the pain I was causing her. I meant to write about love, not hate, but they're so intertwined that it's impossible to do so. So to the normal civilized human condition, I'm hateful. What does this have to do with love? Well, for one thing, it's not present. Recently I was discussing love with two of my friends who are very much deeply in it. One a male, the other a female, both in love (not to each other) but to a person they both feel are capable of fixing every problem in the world for them. They asked me if I have ever felt it, I responded with no. They then asked me if I would ever find "her", and I responded with "obviously no". This led to an argument, about my attitude and emotion toward this world... this reality. "No one in this world can put up with me, no one in this world can even take a few steps beyond understanding me, if love truly exists out there then I am the exception, I'm too much for anyone here at the moment", that's what I stated after my last comment. "You're telling me that out of the billions of people on this planet no one on this planet can understand you? I call bullshit, you're just full of yourself" proclaimed Richard. He's usually defensive about weakness's, and like me, I know he feels that love is usually nothing but one. "Yea, you'll find her, you just have to give it time, it's not like you're going to find her tomorrow or anything but maybe a month or even ten years from now" followed Yudith. I was surprised to see how hopeful these two friends where both for me and my quest for love. But I didn't want either to feel miserable, the only reason they where both with me in the first place was because both their love's where unable of being in our setting at the time. Otherwise I'd just be the 5th wheel. They continued bashing the idea that like they themselves, I will one day find a woman with the perfect body and brain capable of putting up with my shit. With a heart of gold and a vagina that has yet to be pampered like an ally cat with a black hole for a mouth. According to them, it will happen, but for the sake of letting them smile (and forget for 5 minutes that they themselves are in love), I continued to look down at the idea of relationship. I could have stated the awesomeness of being single, how everyday is merely an adventure with no strings holding you to the side requesting a constant fucking therapy session. With no blushing faces looking down at themselves for being incapable of producing courage. I could even point out the fault that from an evolutionary standpoint, love only exists through a time limit, and it can be shut down at any giving second with proper mind control. But I'm getting off track again, like usual I only ever do it because I write through heart, what you see me put down here is what I am really thinking. Wanting to write about love and starting the conversation on hate is only proof of how off track I really am. But I'll try and keep it at it's center this time. So, what is love? O this is why I started that story about us 3, I asked them both this question. "It's when you'll do whatever it takes to keep that other person happy", both of them said it, not like a chorus choir, but like politics who are all in the same party. Anyways, is that what love really is? Going back to an argument I made on a different form of writing, I stated that I've never been known to love myself. So if love is whatever it takes to make someone happy, I definitely don't love myself. You know what will make me happy right now? A million dollars, but guess what, I can't really get that any time soon so I figure that to be excusable under my current circumstances. But you know what else would make me happy? Loosing weight, gaining the ability to study like a pro again, and finally getting this thing called "responsibility" down. Those things, I can get. Those things are within reach and I don't reach out for them. Those things, are right under my fucking nose, so much so that I just have to look down with my vision (not neck) to view them, yet I decide to stay still and let the sweat on my forehead drop around it performing a ritual that imitates patience at it's highest degree. I'm waiting for me to love myself, is that even possible? I have so much more to add to this, but I really don't feel like typing it out, it won't feel on form with the rest of my writing. So I'll just leave it here, and let you all figure out whether or not you all love yourselves too.

Thinking about the energetic properties of our creative tools brings me to question the purpose of creating media. Many state it as an expression to self, and that everything stops there. That you are merely stating how you feel with your joy, and wish to let go of everything on your mind. What if it influences the mind in a way that further pauses your ability to move forward? I ask because I'm unable to write anything when a smile is on my face. I'm unable to come up with purpose towards words, unable to create sentences that sound about myself, and unable to express anything (for I feel no need to). Odd because I'm smiling right now, I'm not happy, but I'm content. What if an expression of self is only enabled when ones own depression takes over? I am at my best with my writing whenever I feel pain. My creativity and dreams explode into vividness as if detailing what I desire in life. My sub-conscious is suddenly able to open a pathway between my heart and my brain that allows it to communicate as if it was another person all together (which, would be true have my goals been completed). I can't write at all about bunnies, tree's, their abilities to represent joy, without thinking about all the horrible things that result because of it. Bunnies look cute, but the process of cutting one open so that I may stick it on a barbecue grill is as disgusting as allowing my toilet to fill up without a flush. Tree's enable us to breath, are a part of the life-cycle and do countless other things to creatures allowing them to live. But they are also the reason that shit like insects exist, and are completely uncivilized. They do nothing but invite other-creatures that I simply do not wish to be around, I only ever want to cut them up, roll em up, and sell them to create profit. So at the end of the day, after writing in my journal or on this site, I've released my thoughts and emotions into words. After singing my favorite songs, I have related to said artist and have further shortened the gap between understanding beyond self / others. But what is the purpose? I'm unable to answer that question, but looking into it, I now see the result. If you are to do nothing but dwell on your thoughts, and feel a sense of release after doing anything creative; Then be aware that release itself may simply be dormant and inactive (but present). After writing my depressed emotions, thinking back on the day, I afterwords feel "content" enough to forget about it for those moments to come. But I am not over it, I'm not past it, and not done with it. It's like ignoring the little voice in your head telling you that you want a piece of meat, eventually it'll be served and satisfied. The voice in your head is influenced by how you express yourself, so if you happen to express depression, it'll desire it. The opposite being true as well. That is the conclusion that I have received through my current thoughts. I shall attempt to experiment with it (for inspiration is simply what you state inside your mind), soon enough.

So you're angry because you managed to ignore the homeless man on your way to work. You're sad because you realized not everyone in your family was upside down frowning as much as they should. Howling at the relentlessness of the children not in America, for opportunity has only been originated in the country of "liberty". Tear full of the heart who tells you to stop punching the bloody love of yours, for the right thing to do is not the thing you wanna do. Expressive and loud for the event of punishment at an innocent man (for we are all born "innocent). You feel hurt, you wish release, but paralyzed by the fear of the challenge, remain inact in this world of statues clamoring to the same soulless leader known as insecurity. You tend to only walk the paths that appear straight, curves scare you and turns hate you. If you are not moving towards your goal you're not moving anywhere (for opposite of the mark is no where near your wants), unaware of the irony of fate, unaware that backwards is usually the answer to forwards. We're taught from as early as fornication to continue to push on, revealed at first by our parents care and aware only after we wake up. For when life is finally realized then reality brakes in, chains your arms backwards, pushing away ignorance and forgiving nothing. As our teenage years turn into maturity you feel grown up, able to take on anything and everything, wishing to change all (yet change only yourself after you fall). Maturity turns into another stage, another form of experience meant to find you. For that's when we all felt loss, aware that we where once ignorant, wishing to go back to who we where. A form capable of mistakes, a form forgivable from almost anything (even murder). When this is mentioned and stated, then you go ahead and turn into the stage that I'm currently in right now. Once you're aware that's impossible to find what was once never lost, reality smacks you as it states the obvious. "If you lost what you love, and can't get it back for it was destroyed, build a new a better one", we aren't destined to find ourselves, we are destined to create who we are. Any celebrity you desire of becoming, tell me if you where born knowing who they where instantly. If you can think of anybody, then I'll gladly take you to a mental hospital for instinctive hallucinogens. The lead guitarists of the rock generation weren't born with those names, they created themselves to be heard by all. They didn't find out how to be famous, they simply created famousism within themselves. The same goes for anybody who has ever figured a talent worth the chase of youth. Stop looking for the treasure map to your heart, it's giving you a wrench, go forward and build yourself without looking into the past.

It's all getting through. All the pain, all the sadness, all the fucking anxiety issues and stress. It's crawling up me like a determined solder aiming to strike down my very heart. I've been craving a "let loose", seriously. Booz, a fucking cig, some weed, anything! It's all crushing my mind at the pace of a recently married rabbit on a bed. I haven't slept well in over a week. I failed one class this past semester. The view of loneliness, despite the family and friends I've made this past year, doesn't want to go the fuck away. I've been holding back tears for the past two months, and the only reason is because I figured out that if I smiled they won't let out, figuring it to be strength, I'm really starting to doubt it and wonder if it's just confusion for weakness. The only things that make me numb are grinding on a game I want to stop playing, and eating food I don't want to fucking shove down my throat. My mind only stays quiet when I hurt myself, otherwise it asks why? Why am I here? Why is my family in a struggle that it shouldn't be in? Why is empathy a fucking bitch to learn? Why is it that by instinct I "choose" to hurt more then to love? Why? Why? WHY?! I can't set a single goal and this tunnel I'm in sheds not a single drop of light. I've been told that this is "growing up", but who the fuck wants that? You want me to hurt others in order to supply happiness to my life? My life of undeserving gifts and styles that would be put to better use to someone who appreciates the air they breath? I also realize that I'm cursing a lot in this entry, but I can't seem to stop shouting agony at the wall, considering that every time I let out another "fuck" the laughter in the background quiets itself down a little more. Letting loose the very monster meant to control others for happiness I myself have become victimized by the mental invention of God designed by me. The very idea of combing my soul with impure thoughts but pure actions is what considered forcing my drive to the "me of today". So far I've seen not a single ounce of emotional profit or desired efficiency that is worth learning to gain complete control over the beast of my sub-conscious. Allowing myself to a slave just a little longer for the only spec of hope that's been in me since the second grade. I can't fucking take this today, or tomorrow, or after-tomorrow, but if I don't I'll get kicked out of school and forced into man-hood despite my desires. I dream of being kicked out of my house to accomplish the same force without loosing a good chance at an education I know I need. I dream of my very father committing a fatality on my heart (for "Finish Him" has been in place for the past 9 years), so that I may have NOTHING to come back to. I desperately try to find myself in my own cave, knowing that the answer isn't real, that to find myself I first have to create myself. If anything I've become a hypocrite of my judgment. For I do nothing but state answers to the problems of your life while mine remains problematic. Fuck the world, on a day like today, all I do is numb myself out to ignore the shouts of the knife a few feet away from my hand. Fuck you all as well, this is me being real. Whether you dig or humiliate, I don't give a shit anymore.

Davis Perez T/R 11:15-12:30 ENC1101 When I scream my agony at the sky the only thing I ever hear is silence! The clouds do nothing but sit idly ignoring me. My pain is a upside down blood fall attempting to grab their attention, I scream “Look at my pain!”, and they laugh. As if their equal amount of added hurt is justice enough to consider me useless and worthless. What is my power? What is the energy that I seek? I can’t find it! It aches crushing all my bones and muscle in my body shouting “Die!” as my giant care crumbles and collapses on my emotion. It’s not like it matters, I’m already numb and permanently set to cry. I’m doing nothing but whining and the more I whine the more it hurts. But according to my current readings, pain is pleasure. My misery is my reason? flock that! If pain is pleasure then I’ll spend my entire life devoted to finding the power to split the two. To make my pleasure infinite and my pain riddance from itself and I. We all need to let our emotions flow to be sane, but in order to evolve instinct demands we control them and tie them down. It angers me because this arises conflict. One that can not be fixed or settled. So is my goal to eliminate this conflict? I wish control. I’ have been told that when I no longer want it, it’ll fall in my hands. My heart is filled with darkness, my intentions are never sane, and my instincts crave blood and violence. Yet I believe that because I can go days, without my animal let loose, so can everyone else. Can a world so dark and stupid really learn trust? So I am here now a day after writing my initial shout, I’m calm now and would to bring up the discussion that the teacher sprang up a while ago. The discussions brought up the way we as a society work. How hierarchical system placed upon us centuries ago are still present in our today of “Freedom”. In this system we are but a triangle, the masses dormant in the bottom. They have all the power yet none. Security is just shy off a level higher to the public, but they are treated just the same as dogs. A dog in the streets lying in filth is no different from a dog lying in a rich man’s house, they’re both being treated like bitches and in that essence neither life is worth living. A society of independent decision makers will always be more efficient then a society of followers without will following a power hungry lunatic. I say lunatic because the insane do not know they are crazy, in fact, conscious awareness of insanity proves your sanity. To those who ignore it, they are merely running away from instincts. They’re power hungry for obvious reasons as well. The insane have no power over themselves. The only way to satisfy and justify the opposite of their true desires (suicide) would be to control that which at one point quite possibly controlled itself. It’s simple, my mind wants to unleash itself and cure all of their hatred. I wish to make the world a circle love, a constant motion representing a heart. I’m tried of seeing pain, hate, depression, madness, insanity, I crave the opposite of all the horrible things in this world. But how? How do you do it? You can’t have a society where all people have equal grounding. It’s impossible? If I make a society where Joe, Me, and Bob, have all equal ground. Then that means that at any time I can steal or murder from and both of them. If it’s illegal to do so, then that means I need to be judged, how can that be possible if everyone has equal power? I deem that judge unable to decide my punishment, because thievery and murder was done through the idea that we are equal in mindset and worth. So just like I respect your believe to love, respect my belief in reality and accept death as a part of life. I don’t know how to write an essay in a elegant manner. This current piece is the work of my journal throughout the period of three days. I hope I did not misunderstand the professor, when he said “Write without form”. Since this is as uncivilized as I get. The only writing that was edited where the spelling errors and grammatical errors I could catch on the PC. Personally, I don’t know how this could help me, I already write like a beast, it’s structure that worries me. My emotions hate constrictions, so it’s only natural that after writing with all that throughout high school, I’m not aware of all the “little” things that I should be aware of. I only hope that in the end my writing is improved and not just….the same. Now that I have got that out of the way, I would like to go back into the whole “Society should evolve into a circle from a triangle” topic. I posted a few threads online and asked in a few chat rooms how one could go about transcending a triangle into a circle. I got a ton of mathematical answers, and I’m sure they where correct, but the way I see it, they all basically said cut off a line off of the triangle and draw a circle around the line as that becomes the diameter. Then I said that the question was not mathematical, it was a “Think outside the box” type. After a series of long listed questions marks and confusion, I received an odd response. “Get a drill and drill through the middle” said the wisest and oldest programmer at a favorite forum of mine. The smart ass from that same forum (a different person) stated that I should just cut off the edges and curve it. So I’m thinking now, that the only two answers I received (that would work) from about two hundred people, where ones that required the destruction of the triangle in some form. Maybe it’s human nature to destroy before starting anew. Actually, I’m pretty sure it is. This goes hand-in-hand with what the Author of “The Culture of Make Believe” was stating in our last exercise. People don’t like to encourage change unless they are pure themselves, and the sad fact is that no one ever is. I have a lot of hope for myself in my heart, but for a world that I can rarely ever trust, my hope stays locked in. Call me selfish, but even though I can wish good and peace for all for all. I feel like I grew too fast and gave up too quick. Since that wish is nothing more, my acceptance of pain is worth more. Since this is how I feel, I can only think to myself that the hope I have is a lie, but I feel it as truth, I just don’t feel it for this nation or for this world.

As I start writing this, I am currently cleaning my room. This afternoon I woke up tired, depressed, out of thought, and wondering to myself, "What the hell am I doing?". The only thing I can think of to make me remotely happy at the moment is clean up my room and whatever else in the house that needs to be cleaned. I feel like a whining kid, constantly screaming at the public and others for all my problems, even though I realized nearly 2 years ago, that they are all MY problems. I always ask myself why in stories certain characters, certain main characters, always have a "Push" on their side. This "Push" is always usually someone older who's been through similar situations and will always be there to help the other person succeed. Where the hell is my push? I don't see it! I don't own one! I've only ever had rent-a-push's! Grr, w/e, I'm loosing weight, fuck you guys, I'm loosing weight. Back to cleaning..... Woot, now I'm cleaning my internal sh!t (IE: COMPUTER), I seriously hate doing it, but because I'm such a tidy person on a PC anyways it tends to be ezsauce, and yes, that word is real. Man I can't believe how sad I am, I tell myself I'm a man but I still feel like a tiny sh!t waiting to grow into a fucking tree, and jesus Gamecop, turn off the word filter already, that crap is annoying.com! I have a to type an entire paragraph just to properly say the word FUCK, and screw you, cursing isn't a form of dis-respect or low-life trash talk, it's a art, and you have to know how and when to say it, just because it feels uncomfortable when you curse (because your fucking mother told you so) doesn't mean you should criticize or judge those that perform the act ritually as a form of a freedom. One question I have to you all, do you all honestly still call me or see me as Drake? Yay! Time to reformat! I need to start downloading ost's again of good (and bad) games. I miss vg music . I'm done cleaning, now what? Bleh, guess I'll go live life.

How do you survive when every single friend you have, appears to only have one goal in mind, and that's to push walls in every corner conceivable onto you. Imagine being tested day-in, day-out, with a friend that is dating your sister. In his mind he is set for life, living with his mother, and his 23 year old drop out brother, and while he has a job, actually denies hours when they're literally given to him like candy. You want your sister to have someone that is growing every day, not someone who is confined with not having any self-esteem, the way I see it, if you're ok with being fear full to the point that you have no confidence, you're ok with being trash on the floor that has no meaning in purpose or life but to stay alive because they're too female organ to commit suicide. Imagine a friend who just started college again, but as soon as entering the campus doors, the only thing on his mind is female organ and weed. He feels like he's found his love, he feels happy and accomplished, but has yet to prove to you that starting school was done for himself and not the sake of socializing. Not to mention that this friend managed to actually push you over the curve and managed to get you high twice without thought, although I blame myself, I don't want to be nobody in my life and only nobodies get wasted for the sake of running away from life. Imagine a friend that while attractive, cute, and outgoing, available, has failed countless times to grab your attention, on every scale, and anytime you want to do anything with her the only word on your mind is "settle", and I don't fucking settle, it's not my style. Imagine a bunch of online/rl friends, who at one point actually failed all your tests, but now has come back trying to befriend you for attempting to fend off boredom. You know how to play a game, and because of this people always seek you to lead groups, but your tired of playing games, you want to live life, and the games are the only thing that prove to be non-lonely. Last but not least imagine a friend.... Knows how to read you, knows how to inspire you, never gets angry with you, is always content no matter how much effort you put, is ready to help you out if need be, is always there to talk to, and regardless of what happens you feel you'll always be there no matter how low of a support you become.... I have two friends like that, and only one ever talks back to me, one will never push walls on me without reason or intent, the other one regardless of what I do will always have a wall up in my face ready to crush my bones as I squeal like a 2 year old begging for a painless life.

The day begins with my eyes hovering over the smoke filled sky that's been hidden behind the cliff I'm currently standing on. If I was to turn around I'd see nothing but the grounds act of "poffing" seemlessly as, if to shout the words "Jump" at me. Without hesitation I quickly leap, and as the smoke screen begins to clear up, I regonize the actions and events of present as they unfold. I laugh and seemlessly appear shocked as if surprised by the effects of my causes. I couldn't finish this for some reason, I just stopped writing and before I knew it I was on to a new page.

The desire to help is in some cases, the emotion of demeaning and above power to the other end. Many however would agree, that the attribute is a plus in any human, and that when the practice is put into effect, both sides benifit. On one hand, you got the emotionless someone become a toy, with the ability to self manipulate its own batteries, the owner of the toy now has a convieniant additions towards the reason of ownership, and a new friend in suddenly realising that mistreatmeant of it will only result in the departure of said toy. Why is it that the living is easy to treat right, but in terms of setting and taking care of the immovible, we ignore our cause and whine at the effect?

So...excuses! Lets begin a paper with some. I'm tired. I'm bored. I'm sad. I'm deppressed. I don't feel like it. Maybe if I...., Maybe if I didn't...., Maybe if we..., Maybe if we didn't... what if? When if? Why? Why should I? Why shouldn't I? Maybe later. Maybe tommorow. Maybe next week. Maybe next month. Maybe next year. Maybe next decade. Maybe some other time. I don't know. Tons of more to write on paper! But I won't. You already know all of them anyways, considering you use about 100 at a time every day.

When presenting a case to the employers of mass control, the title "need money for education" is read "Hungry Male/Female/Dog Number XXX-XX-XXXX". Rich swines do not make dough anymore, as the old once did, in the past having a brain, balls, and the courage to never back down was enough to control a mass, now in days the same fools are merely used to counter those that were once put in control. So we wait, those with the 3 attributes, to be given a bone/plate of food, and enough money to buy the books others have had in their shelves for centuraies. In that act you either shut of your brain or entertain yourself with another activity. At times it's felt as if this is all done on purpose, but blame is quickly thrown left and right, in all directions. While the ones on top giggle and frown once again at the realization that power != happiness.

Patience. A act of self-enduring norm, a much need skill in this world of everlasting list of requirments to live. As you open the shower curtain in the morning, to await a drizzle of warm water, patience activates at the sudden notice of the shower head deciding by itself to fire cold instead. The car drive, the finding of the keys if not endured through, another skill activates, one that had I been god would not implant on any human being, annoyance. Soon after activating, requires another interview with patience, for at that moment you need to calm, and upon choosing not to do so, your life goes from crap, to crap pile.

I slept all night, for the first time in 2 weeks, woke up at 4 a.m., I'm ready for the few days of good sleep up ahead of me, the shift of my internal clock clenging to the thought of opposite solar truths takes but a mere glimpse of reality before sucking me back in to its deranged idea of sun equals moon as the other is believed to be rule as well. I am forever sickened by the thought that in order for me to dream at night( for dreaming in the day is a sub-concious activity)my body requires pills. In taking those pills it attracts itself to the effect like a 5 year old with his mother, and taking the "help" away would only have the same effect to the child as if to murder her in front of his face.How hard it is to get over something as cruel as taht. I think the difficulty increases when it's merely replicated.

Let's start this year off in a much different form of button maching then ever so-previously. For starters, write, write as much as possible, whenever possible, excel your limits of limitless emotion on paper, and forever carge your brilliant mind inside the collector journals of soon. Scratch deppression, be sad, but to the point of pain. Jump in one dark, and for the week(s) to come you'll spend your effort climbing out. Spell! Corret what others misspell, correct what you missepll, hoever true English is brought up by genius with mass-emotion, brainless dickheads care no more for brilliance on paper then for turds if structure and intellegence aren't present. Sadly those people know not that turds themselves are greater in quality then they'll ever be. Well, bus ride is almost over, peace.

So, all through out this fall semister, I've been doing random writings in my journal(s), which I've decided to throw down here to see myself in a different tone. 2 months is a long time, I'm happy it is too, it means time is slowing down again compared to high school, who the hell wants to live life from today to tommorow? This is just the intro, the good crap is in the next entry.

My mind is a con-artist and I am the consumer awaiting it's next product. As pain full as it is to bear the thought of the unknown, I'm starting to smile before reaching walls filled with blind dust, had these walls been in an RPG then they would be the most broken thing in the game for as soon as you encounter them the screen goes black until defeated. That's how the future feels, and in that emotion I wrote down some things I'd like to accomplish before death himself stares at me in the eye, and shakes his head in despair. Having had a heart as strong as mine, he'd recent the fact that my times up, as will I. Striking courage in the hearts of the weak. Finding out the point of purpose and discovering mine. Write a book. Get a killer body. (Personal!) Learn to 100% control my dreams, and in that aspect how to read them as well. Direct a Sonic game that doesn't suck. Get a degree higher then a Masters. Visit the great locations of the current planet. Find a woman. (Specific is too personal) Kill fear. It's a small list, and while I know I can accomplish of the majority of them before I turn 30, I also know that it won't happen unless I do the last one first. Lately I got the advice that a much better way of handling the last option, would be to increase my courage, and in doing so I'll knock of the first one as well, I'm pro, but I do have my weak points, and that's cool. If anyone is ever born perfect, point me to them, so I can show you true perfection.

It's 4 a.m, I have yet to complete my Math homework and because of this I am unable to sleep. I am also unable to begin my Math homework because any time I begin to do any form of remote work I get so pissed in knowing that after I'm done with this bullshit I have another pile waiting for me tomorrow! What's the point anyway? Even when I'm doing the things I love (IE: Writing, anything Video-Game related) it doesn't advance me in any other way besides the "Road" put down by man himself, and when I think about that, all I see coming out of my head is that fact that no matter how you see yourself the bar of human stays equal and your ass would never be above mine as mine will never be above yours. I'm just tired of the same fucking (Gamecop, seriously censorship is for guys who like in the back!) routine every day. Wake up (if I'm not going through a night like this one), go to school, come back home, eat, play games or go to a friends house and play games there, come back home if I'm not home and eat again, sleep or go through another night like tonight. I know that even if there isn't a point, life is much better lived off with you having accomplished something, no matter how small that something is, but even though I know that, my brain malfunctions at the idea of attempting a useless action when the outcome is not known, and if I attempt to look at it from a interesting perspective then my heart kicks in, and laughs at me for doing it for the wrong reasons. I ask myself "Whats the point?", and every time my body responds with the words "There is none".

I'm amazed at how fast summer flew by. The few tricks I've learned a long the way, and how the emotion of "awesome" sitting in my heart for opening my eyes to new abilities and tricks I never knew I possessed. Now I'm left with a decision, a choice, to either give it my all or stay chill as I've always ever been. Do I stay wearing my mask? Appear tired when the race merely started? Or do I go ahead and munch at my brain, and force it to work, and better itself as a human being to further prepare myself for the even harsher road impeded upon me in the later years. Questions, that is all I have at the moment, for when high school started, however unpredictable those 4 years where, I was forever knowledgeable of the outcome. Now I have about 42 years of freedom down in front of me. 42 years to make a name for myself and be known. Do I let it go by like the majority? Whether or not I give it my all, I know one thing for sure, I need to start doing more then just thinking about the future.