I’m just so tired.

Tired of being poetic.

Tired of this crappy situation.

Tired of life.

I hope I don’t ever wake up again.

A "friend" tried to give me girl advice today.

"If you would just say 'I want you for sex' things would be a lot less complicated."

That's right it would. If I didn't fight it, I could rest. I could be a leaf in the stream just like all you other leaves. But no. There is a fallen tree limb saving me from being swept downstream. I don't know what happens downstream. I just know that I probably wouldn't like it. It might be a waterfall which would leave me free falling with nothing to catch me. But I have something to hold on to now.

Jesus is my fallen tree branch.

I ran into a old friend from high school today at the hockey game. She hasn't changed a bit. I pray to God I have. The only thing that keeps me going is the memories of purity with youth. However me being a math person, over analize this. I was pure once. I was happy once. Now I am neither. It's getting worse. I always feel alone.

"You're sorta stuck where you are,
but in your dreams you can buy expensive cars,
or live on mars, and have it your way.

And you hate your boss at your job,
but in your dreams you can blow his head off,
In your dreams show no mercy.

Then all your bad days will end,
And all your bad days will end.
You have to sleep late when you can.
And all your bad days will end."


What Self-Mutilation Are You?
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I can't pretend not to care anymore, things aren't right and I don't know how to change things, or even if I should. Why are both ways up hill? I think I'll stay in the valley for the rest of my life.

...

I'm sorry but I cannot hate anyone. I don't know why, but I certainly don't like someone as much as I should if they hate. Hate is a stupid emotion. It's so destructive.

...

Why do opposites draw eachother near? Why do similars repel each other?

...

My mind is full of regrets, chances lost, and what could have been. At least I am alive.

...

What if the Hokey Pokey IS what it's all about?

...

My hair is yellow, and I've become mellow. If my hair is red, will I be dead?

...

I wish it would be as easy as it once was for me to be happy with your happiness. At least then I would have a reason to smile.

...

I wish I didn't drink over break. I wish it didn't make my problems go away. I wish the bottle wasn't calling me now.... SHUT UP, DANGIT!

...

I'm gonna work out in a bit. I don't know why I do this to myself. At least if I were out of shape I could use that as an excuse. If I'm physically fit, then I would know that it really was ME who was keeping me single.

...

I had a dream last night. It was the traditional "Catcher in the Rye" dream. What is it with relation myself with "Holden"s. McNealy, Caulfeild. Weird.

...

I wish I to could be beutiful. I creature of the wind. I am to formulaic. I could be a robot for all I know. No, I'm not, because then how could I feel. I wish I were a robot.

...

More than anything, I miss my dog.

...

If I turn my music up, maybe the voices will go away... "Wont you fly high? Freebird... yeah"

...

Bowling for Soup - Emily

"It wasn't suposed to be like this,
another dose of unhappiness.
I gave it all
and managed to get
shot down yet again"

...

I need to go talk to God.

I wonder what I will look like as a red head?

...

I wish I was a kid again. When I was a kid I had a stash of those sour clovers in my back yard. My own secret garden. I wonder if I shall ever return there.

...

I wish, just once, I could get in a fight. A real fight. Jeremy just walked in, guess my waiting is over.

Low rider jeans only look good like 5% of the time they are worn. All other times they just look stupid.

They are like those bug sheild leather "bras" for the front of a car.

A thought occurred to me today…

A girl hit on me, and I hit on her back.
As I was telling the story, Melissa asked if she had back-pockets.
She did, but what’s important is how I now realize I view the whole “back-pocket situation”.

Pants without back pockets are tinted windows.

When a care drives by, I think to myself, “Dang that car looks good with tinted windows.” The care is not any different as it would be if the windows weren’t tinted, I just think it looks better. Eyeglasses, and ponytails are just like “rims” and a sound-system. They are perks, that’s it.

I’m on the market for a car now. Am I only looking for cars with tinted windows, rims and a bumping system? No, a car is much more than just these little things. If I were to find my “perfect car” it wouldn’t matter if all the accessories were there. Maybe I can add them when the car is mine. It’s not really important. One must remember this one thing: you CANNOT change what a car is. You cannot change a Hummer to a Lexis. I might be able to get a hummer from Alexis, but I don’t know anyone with that name.

I think I’ll probably be walking for a while.

Life was so much easier when I didn't have any options.

I just don't know anymore.

Sandwiches...

“Are you locked up in a world that’s been planned out for you?
Are you feeling like a social tool without a use?”

Once again I feel like life is some sort of competition. I need a break. I always lose. I can’t ever really compete. The game sucks anyway. What is my prize for effort? It sure is hell isn’t a sandwich. It sure as hell isn’t a super bowl ring. It isn’t even a fucking trophy cup. Trophy cups let you relax when the game is done. It’s more like the Heavy Weight Championship belt. It is so gaudy it’s insane. So while you have it, your only joy is that you have a belt, you never wear it. And as soon as you have a belt, fifteen million men are waiting to take it from you. You never get a day off. You whole life then becomes rapped around it. You must do everything so that no other man can take her away from you. And in the end, you will always lose the belt. Then you must find another to fill you with happiness. Girls are the most dangerous drugs in existence.

Screw the game.

Jesus is all I need.

Hey if I were a chica...

What's your sexual appeal?
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I went on my walk. It was great. I took a pen and paper with me, just incase I had a thought worth remembering. As I sat on the park bench, poems came to me softly dancing like the snow flakes in the wind. The pen was dead but no matter, I never share my poetry. It was very soothing, just letting time flow through me. I realized that I love many things.

First and formost I love my family. Included in my family is of course my dog Jay.
I love God. He love's me too. (Ignoring all eye rolls)
I love angels. I met one once...
I love making snow angels.
I love snowflakes. They are unbelievably simple and infinately complex. They are pure, unlike most other things I come in contact on a regular basis.
I love the wind and the rain.
I love Sunrises.
I love getting my hands dirty.
I love helping someone weither I know them or not.
I love making someones day.
I love making someone smile.
I love having friends.
I love talking about other peoples problems. (You down with O.P.P?)
I love music of all kinds (excect bad remixes of Jimi Hedrix songs)
I love being filled with love.
I love making a sad person smile.
I love singing love songs to all the lovely ladies of the world.
I love every frigen person on earth. (Especially the people who don't believe in love, because their the ones that need it the most)
I love you all

I've replaced my sandwich analogy, however do to the fact that it could end up quite easily more twisted that sandwiches, I'll keep it to myself

"It isn't important who loves you. It's important what you love."

That's a quote (mis-worded I'm sure) from the best movie ever made, Adaptation. See it today with someone you love.

I've accepted the fact that I cannot make someone love me. Half the time people don't even believe in love anyway. I need to find a better place to focus my love. Sandwiches are no longer an option. I used to be in love with "moments". "Moments" can happen with anyone. However at college, I somehow doubt the "moments" I used to expirence will ever happen again. I've said it before, I need a hobby. Sitting in my room on my arse playing games does not count as a hobby. I am having urges right now. Urges to go for a late night walk and just think. Perhaps this is what I seek. To think what I want to do now is what I was afraid of a week ago. I need to be alone.

“…But now I’m saving all my loving for someone whose loving me…”

My love of sandwiches is gone. They too have become complicated. Maybe the only things that deserve attention are. I need more order in my life. Between women, homework and sandwiches I haven’t slept well in quite some time. It feels so weird because its like I’m slowly spinning down. Working back from the way I was. I don’t know when I will stop mellowing out my emotions but I hope it is well before I fully consider myself an asexual being. I like girls, dag-nabbit. They just are too much to deal with right now. Well, not all girls, just a few. I can’t really deal with them. I’ve got to learn to be less of a puppy. I’ve got to mature.

Ruff, Ruff.