Monday, May 26, 2003

beast
You are Beast!

You are brilliant and extremely clever. You can
handle almost any problem swiftly and
efficiently. You are devoted to philosophy and
are always up for a good discussion.
Sometimes, though, your anger gets the best of
you and you upset those whom you care about.


Which X-Men character are you most like?
brought to you by Quizilla
The Dante's Inferno Test has banished you to the Second Level of Hell!
Here is how you matched up against all the levels:
LevelScore
Purgatory (Repenting Believers)Low
Level 1 - Limbo (Virtuous Non-Believers)High
Level 2 (Lustful)Very High
Level 3 (Gluttonous)Very Low
Level 4 (Prodigal and Avaricious)Very Low
Level 5 (Wrathful and Gloomy)Moderate
Level 6 - The City of Dis (Heretics)Low
Level 7 (Violent)High
Level 8- the Malebolge (Fraudulent, Malicious, Panderers)Moderate
Level 9 - Cocytus (Treacherous)Low

Take the Dante's Divine Comedy Inferno Test

Sunday, May 25, 2003

This excerpt comes from my journal from this Thursday, May 22, and starts after my description of the moring's activities, which shall only be referred to here as "Black Comedy Thursday."

That, however, was not the end of my personal odyssey for today. No, it was but the island of Circe in my epic journey across the tumultuous oceans of my mind. The real mental strain as of late is the simple fact that I feel nothing towards graduation. It just hasn’t hit me yet that I will no longer be a student at Milton High School, that I will no longer be seeing the same great teachers and occasionally bad ones daily, or even that in a few months, I will be separated by the friends I met at Milton, the people I love more than anyone else in the world. Frankly, this sucks. I mean, I know that I care about this stuff. I know that there are parts of school that I enjoyed and therefore should miss, and I’m damn sure that my friends deserve some sort of heartfelt sadness at the prospect of losing them, but I have nothing to show for these things. To be fair, the friends thing was addressed in the playground entry and I also know that I will spend my last three months with them as much as possible, so that, though important, isn’t such a concern at the moment. I just really believe that, being the type of scholar that I have been and with the history I’ve had at this school, I should be absolutely devastated at the idea of leaving it behind. Maybe part of me knows it wasn’t the school, but perhaps the people that I would miss, but even if that were the case, where is my fear of parting from Jones, Friedman, etc? This people have been my mentors and friends, and yet I sort of casually accept the fact that this is the last week I’ll see them in any semblance of the old routine.

I came to these thoughts as I helped Mr. Jones bring the sound equipment to the stadium for graduation tomorrow. As I sat in the back of his truck, with Sterling beside me, I looked at the school and practically strained my eye trying to see it with those misty perceptions that have so marked people like Michelle, who seem to have no problem in recognizing what everything means to them and therefore becoming saddened by the pending loss of it. Then, as Jones walked out onto the graduation stage to figure out the placement of speakers, I sat on the edge of the platform, facing the school, overly aware of the incredible symbolism and imagery surrounding me, and still devoid of any capabilities for the emotions that I believe I should be feeling. I just feel like the most heartless, uncaring bastard on the planet right about now, mainly because I do know how much everything means to me and yet I seemingly don’t have enough in me to recognize it openly. I don’t want to feel like I missed my chance to mourn, I suppose. I just hope all of my teachers, acquaintances, friends and loved ones know how much I care for them, and that I have that within which passes show.

Wednesday, May 21, 2003

After reading so many beautiful words about myself, we all went to Wills Park to play on the playground. We played Tag on Crack, which was amazingly fun as we absolutely flew around the playground, with speed and imagination that I thought I’d left somewhere years ago. However, it turned out to be a perfect blend of childish innocence and adult emotion, as one of the moments that stand out now is when Kate came up to me, enacted a sort of two-person time out, and hugged me for what I’d written to her. In the middle of that youthful joyousness, I literally embraced the depths of the friendships that I had formed as a bona fide individual. It was quite a moment. After the game eventually wound down, we spent a while taking pictures of the group, the unbreakable band of brothers and sisters that we had created, and I could not help but simultaneously think of how deeply I love these people and how painful it will be when I cannot be that close to them. I know it doesn’t help to think about that, but it is a concern.
Posing on that playground, I was surrounded with all that I could ever ask of life: true, passionate, honest, complete, and undeniable friendship. Suddenly, I felt like I was already losing them and I was momentarily aware that I didn’t even want to leave the park with them to go to lunch. I just wanted to hold that moment forever. However, if life could let you do that, then I might have done it far before today, thinking that the split-second I was capturing was the best life had to offer, and therefore I would have missed out on days like today with people like my friends. I guess I have to see it that way now as well, just keep all the moments in my heart and keep living.

Thursday, May 08, 2003

I have decided that the Barenaked Ladies write all of their songs about me (here's why):

The Old Apartment (What I'll be like in college, coming home and wondering why things have changed, seeing friends and wondering why they've changed, looking in the mirror and wondering why i've changed)

Falling for the First Time (Me realizing, through the college admissions process, that I can fail and I won't melt or combust, but I'll just keep on going)

Brian Wilson (my current depressed state of life, hoping that I might somehow just be another tortured genius, but maybe not)

One Week (The recent cycle of events: big emotional explosion, a few days of tension, resolution, then repeat)

If I Had $1000000 (Perhaps then I could buy love and happiness with life, but then again, I know better than to think money is what I’d need)

Call and Answer (The simple fact that there are certain people that, despite any arguments or disputes, will always be able to count on me to answer their call)

Get In Line (My current paranoia that everyone in the group is either pitying me or rolling their eyes at me behind my back, although no one has given me any reason to believe that)

It’s All Been Done (Think long and hard about that one, because it should come to you if you know anything about me)

Pinch Me (See Brian Wilson, just my way of going through the motions each day, despite the fact that high school is almost over and I should be cherishing every minute “It’s like a dream you try to remember but it’s gone, then you try to scream but it only comes out as a yawn”)

Shoebox (my habit of lying to my mom to let her think that I’m ok, that I haven’t been emotionally involved in any way for a year, and that I’m a good kid, which I really am anyway)

What a Good Boy (Story of my Life, just listen to it, “When I was born, they looked at me and said, ‘What a good boy, what a smart boy, what a strong boy’” and “I go to school, I write exams, if I pass, if I fail, if I drop out, does anyone give a damn? And if they do, they’ll soon forget, cause it won’t take much for me to show my life ain’t over yet”)

Too Little Too Late (How I feel about trying to be happy about the end of the year, and how I feel towards certain relationships, depressing on both accounts)

My Box Set (Sometimes I feel like I’m already out there for all to see, and yet I’m not happy with what’s on those “CDs”)

Tonight is the Night I Fell Asleep at the Wheel (What would probably be my situation if I were to do so, but let’s hope I don’t)

Alcohol (absolutely nothing to do with my life)

So thus is the theory is rejected, perhaps, by that last song, but there are so many applicable words in these and I don’t know if I find that comforting or not, but I did get some enjoyment out of writing this.