Dreaming?

Good evening, readers. I decided I should update you on my life since I'm well...bored. My friends and I, if you don't know, wish to start a band. we have a bass player and two guitar players, me being one of them. We've always joked about the band, but recently it has gotten a little more serious. We have decided upon a band name. This great accomplishment has caused much reveling within our group of friends. We wish to practice with one another once school begins, and then hold auditions for a drummer and a singer. Shockingly we have many ties. We can make t-shirts, we have access to microphones, we know people at the battle of the bands, and we have a venue. This is all exceptional. However, my band mates aren't great yet, not to say that I am. We ALL need practice. My angel believes are hopes are in vain. She is not wishing the band's demise, quite the contrary. She wishes us the best, but sees things realistically. Also, she fears a terrible failure on stage during a performance. I do see her point. Although, I just want to play some songs with my friends (covers and original songs). All bands are booed of stage at least once; Elvis was. I hope that we don't aim too high because dreams don't always come true. I hope my band mates aren't expecting success, or even popularity in the city. Let's just play. So, guys if you are reading this get to practicing; rehearsal is coming up.
Our band name will be disclosed on a later date. At the risk of sounding like every other wanna-be successful band, once we make our myspace request us.

Sincerely, Davey

GRRRRR......

Hello readers, how has life been? I realize my last post was some time ago, and for that I apologize. I have been faced with a new conflict, and due to my lack of interesting topics I shall write about said conflict. I have been unable to access my blog for reasons unknown. You may be wondering, "Then how are you posting this?" Well, I am currently accessing this blog through my dear team member Willow's profile. You may think blog access is not a serious matter. Thus is true in most cases. However, i am slightly disturbed and do not trust diaries. The blog is my only "thought and feeling museum". I suppose I'll leave you with this. May the remainder of your summer be pleasant. I'll write again soon.



-Davey

... And I'll Give It Back

I saw him. Him. The person with whom I want to spend the rest of my life. He is in love with me too. Like Romeo and Juliet, we would die for each other in a heartbeat.

My bounty is as boundless as the sea,

My love as deep; the more I give to thee,

The more I have, for both are infinite.

This is how I feel every time I look into his soft amber eyes. Everything looks more beautiful reflected in them. I want to look into those eyes and see that love every morning from this day forward. For now and always. Forever.

I love him.

I Lost my Breath...

I saw her. I saw that face that I have been staring at for a full year now. I love her. It was our anniversary the previous Saturday. It was perfection, just as she is. Before this entire event I told her a dream. In this dream, her and I went on a pic-nic; it was such a happy time. When I arrived at her home she took me on a similar trip. It was far better than the dream. Indeed, for that day, that moment the world was at peace. I love her, and she loves me. What more do I need? My angel is my world. I want my life to be a huge part of her's. I want our lives to be one. This anniversary was what I hoped it would be, what it should be: a declaration of love for one another.

erm.... hello.

Hello everyone.
I was invited to write on this blog as an author by the current, original author: the love of my life.
I'm not really sure what I should say, seeing as this isn't my blog or anything, but I figure I should ask: anything I ought to write about?

This weekend was pretty amazing. I spent it with my angel, and no doubt he will write about it too. Wait on the details.

I love him soo so so much.

He is:
amazing beautiful cute adorable lovable loving a gift my life my heart my soul my world my everything.
♥♥♥

Too Much Time on My Hands

Dude, I have so much crap to do. I am a very busy high school student. I have to volunteer Wednesday and Friday, I have finals all this week and next (I have to study), I have to write an admission exam to get into an AP class, and I am visiting my love this weekend. On top of all that, I have three books I've been dying to read and a guitar I'd love to pick up, but I've been so tired from all this stuff. Next year, I'm going to have a job too. Jesus H. Christ, that's a lot. Oh, and my teachers are late on some of the criteria, so they're still giving us tests outside of finals. A break would be nice. I hope that if my love is reading this she knows she is no trouble; she is a privilege. i don't just see her for her; i see her for me too. Alright, I got to go. That's a sucky way to end this. Bye.

It's Just the Way it Is

I'm sorry, but everything is screwed. I didn't plan it this way it just is. People fall in love with people they will never see. People are taken away from their love. Parents are abusing their kids. Meanwhile, the Earth is slowly coming to an end. Oh, how joyous. Although things suck, it is all perfect when I'm with my friends. We are happy, we are close, we are family. I'd like to thank them for that. I'd also like to apologize for everyone, including them, who is faced with adversity or some other bullshit. It's life. It happens. Just try to ride it out with people you love; things won't seem as bad. Trust me. Good luck, find your friends and hang. Run to them whenever you need their help. It is all you can do. Things may not go away, but they seem nonexistent for those couple of hours. I love you guys. you keep me fuckin' alive.

A Working Class Hero

Why is it that people always expect far too much of others? I have an incredibly intelligent honor roll friend. She works her ass off. She studies, she goes to a gifted school, and success is knocking at her door. Yet, her family always seems to think she is lazy. What? She already has more than an hour of homework every night, and she stays after school for clubs. Her family has decided that she is not finishing her homework, and she should study for an hour on top of the homework. Hello, honor roll student!! She does her homework. The least they could do is ask her about her school work, not go off assuming things. It's really annoying; cut the poor girl some slack. She's a hard-working, brilliant person. I wish people would just give her the praise she deserves. God, allocate some time just to tell her how great she is; she deserves it. I'll always cheer her on. I'm her biggest fan. Ther is a reason she is my hero.I hope I can be as adroit as her one day. The way she just does it all perfect is really quite shocking. If you are reading this, my dear, I'm very proud of you. I always will be.

I Can Write Too

I bet you all knew this was coming. Today, is the day I bring up my musicianship, and then some record company will take notice blah, blah, blah. let's get one thing straight, I'm not plugging anything. I'm writing about what I know. In this case, music. So, if you know who I am you know I'm a guitar player. All I want is to perform in front of some people with band mates I like. No fame, no money; I just want to make some music with friends. But, I cannot find a band, and my friends who want to start are beginners. Sorry, guys. I don't mean to hurt your feelings. One friend asked me if we actually got a band started would we do original material. Yeah. I can write music. I've just started to write original works and I've got two songs. I just want the members feelings. Plus, I cannot write lyrics. Poetry is easy, song lyrics not really. Just saying, I will musical theorize all you want, just give me some feedback, and some lyrical aid.

Dreams Can Come True

I had a dream during the weekend with my angel. It was different. My dreams are usually a rush of fear, horror, sex, and sometimes all three.The point being, my dreams never make sense. The way I fell into the dream was even very strange. I remember seeing her gorgeous face then nothing. I open my eyes and I'm in a small white house. I am worried. "Where could I be?" Then I heard it: the most beautiful noise in the world, her voice.
"Did you fall asleep, baby?" she asked. I'm in her arms. It is just me and her. We look much older than we were. I'd say early twenty's. But we are still clad in Guitar Hero and Dragon pajamas. I reply,
"Yeah, sorry. What are we watching?"
"We're watching--"
"Want some food?"
"Vegan?"
"What else?"
I walk into the familiar kitchen. At first I'm shocked. "How do I know the way?" Then I realize the house isn't very big. "Where are the plates?" I ask.
"In the pantry, silly baby."
"Oh, duh."
I continue to make her the simple dish of tofu origin. I get back to the couch and hand her the food. We sit there eating the food in one another's arms. I ask for a kiss, she leans close, and it feels so real. I open my eyes to a dark room. There is my baby, leaning over me kissing me. I kiss her back, and hope, "Please, may my life be just like that as I grow older."

When It's Over I'll Still Be Waiting

Recently, I have heard a story form my grandfather. Kiddies, it's a good idea to listen to what your grandparents have to say. Parents, however, should just be tuned out. He looked at me and just brought up his love life. His sad, pessimistic love life. I guess he figured I should hear love experiences from someone who is in a right state of mind. You see, my parents love each other a hell of a lot. What's odd is that they love each other despite the abuse: my mom broke my dad's nose twice (among other things), and my dad beats my mom. I don't get it; I think it's fucking stupid. So, I'm sitting on the couch and out come these stories of heartbreak. He said that he only loved three women; it would've been four, but "my grandmother's mean". One tale of love and loss really hit me. I guess you want to hear it. When my grandfather was enlisting in the Navy he was in love with this rich southern bell. My grandfather, not being born with the silver spoon gracing his gums, was disliked by the family. He figured they had a right not to like him: he's poor and in the military. Then it happened: he was sent of to a naval base. This never even dented his love for the woman. He wrote to her everyday, and she always wrote back. One day, he received a letter. The letter stated that rumors of his unfaithfulness had been spread. The woman did not trust him anymore; she left him. My grandfather was broken. A few months later he received another letter. It was one of apology; the woman realized she should have talked to him first. She wanted to get back together. My grandfather never wrote back. He figured she was too good, too rich, and too sweet for him. They never spoke again. He told me that he was going to marry her. He didn't really have an interesting way though. He began to ask me about my angel. He asked about marriage. Before I could reply he smiled and laughed, "You'll probably find an interesting way to make the big mistake."

I Hope You Had The time of Your Life

I do not wish to brag readers, but I had one of the happiest times of my life this past weekend. It was spent with my dearest love, no doubt. She has a way of making everything perfect just by being there; it's quite uncanny. The highlight of the weekend was watching the tear-invoking Notebook. If you have ever seen The Notebook you know what I mean. Me, always being the sensitive person I am, cried multiple times. The third time was when she took notice. So, we both lie there crying; holding one another. Then we laugh. The two of us laughed and cried for about ten minutes. We're crazy; I know. Succeeding that things got a little more...interesting: we decided to eat a few strawberries. Sweet, delicious, strawberries. Obviously, this wasn't the traditional eating of strawberries: there were two ways to eat them. One way was out of the other's mouth this was done with the tongue. The other was biting the strawberry the other held. I love strawberries. This helped me realize I take huge bites of them though. Apparently, I can fit a lot in my mouth. Once our appetites were temporarily settled and we were tired of eating the passion fruits, we continued the movie. I won't give away the ending, but I will say that it hit both of us like a brick in the head. I was watching the movie when I hear a small noise. My angel was crying. Immediately my tear ducts began to leak my liquid sorrow. The movie was so sad, but her crying is incomparable to anything. We sat there holding one another once more, attempting to suppress our sonorous wails. that was such a tender moment. I can't even cry in front of my family like that. That was not all that happened that weekend; it was just a highlight for me. How can you worry that you and your loved one will separate when moments like that happen? That is a memory I had to share. I hope whoever you are with or will be with makes you as happy as she makes me. Mon ange, tu es perfecte.

Only Minutes to Wait

I am currently at school. Honestly, it feels more like prison. I know everybody dislikes school (nobody hates), but it is currently keeping me away from the love of my life. I've been waiting weeks to see this angel. Any description I could give would never come close to the beauty she posses. She is perfect for me. I feel safe and comfortable with her. Anyway, I'm very impatient. I have not been able to talk to her, which is truly a nightmare. That's right boys, I like to talk with my lover. You know why? She's not just my lover; she's my best friend. All I want is to get home, make myself look pretty, and drive that 70 miles to her house. I'm going to try to find something to distract me. Remember boys and girls, treasure your love; it does not just happen every day. I'll see you soon, baby.

Desire

Uh, lately I've been having a little problem. Lately, I have been very wanting. I want a kiss. I desire this kiss with such ardent feeling it is all I think about. Sadly, I think the recipient of this kiss wants it less than I do. Is that weird? I just want to give it to her so bad. I cannot focus. This desire for said kiss has even pervaded my dreams. Every night the same thing: she is there, I grab her, and I give her what has been stored up inside me for days. She wants this too. She wants me to give it to her. She is excited over what I present. Better yet, what I promise. Once I press my lips to her's we will both be so relieved. We will hear each other loud in each other's ears. A kiss is such a great thing. I love to kiss her, and I always love her reaction: a tremble, heavy breathing, it's such a rush. I'm in love with you, angel. Just a little longer. The wait makes it all the better.

F*** Verizon

This will be one of my more angry posts. Just warning you. The love of my life has gotten new Internet and phone service. I figured that would be a good thing: we can now chat over the net with great ease. Heh, wrong. There's this company called Verizon, and Verizon hates it when people talk to each other. So, they came up with the evil plan to screw over the world by starting a phone company, but having really shitty service. Oh, the wonders of new-age technology! Since Verizon has done this, it has become very hard to talk to the love of my life. Our calls are incessantly being dropped, and when they are dropped my angel has to wait for the service to return. Isn't that delicious? So, I have been having rushed, short, broken conversations with my love. I do not get to see this person everyday. All I ask is for that voice to appear through the receiver. Is that too much? I guess so. Well, I bid you all ado. Verizon go f*** yourself. I'd cut every last one of you if I could....slowly.

Steps?

Recently, I talked a friend who explained the concept of steps in a relationship to me. Am I the only one who didn't know about these? Apparently, it's also very impolite to skip a step. That's a bit dry isn't it? I don't think a relationship should be, "Okay, now that I've done that I can do this." If you want real passion things shouldn't be plannned; they should just happen. Get caught up in the moment. I thought that's how things were supposed to work. Then another friend brought up the step of...well, sex. That's a whole different thing. You all know my feelings about that. It's overrated. I'm not ready. Don't get me wrong, my significant other is quite desirable, quite desirable. It's just, I'm too young. One day, sure. I'll rock you like a hurricane. I'll wreck you. Whatever you want. The theme is, ladies and gentlemen, spontaneity is passion.

Faithfully

Hello, faithful readers. Although, I doubt you exist. It has been awhile since I posted anything new, so I thought I'd write about a little something that struck me as a tad odd. Remember her (my angel)? Well, I was telling her about a girl that recently hit on me. Now I'm not trying to make her sound like the jealous type or controlling because it got on my nerves too. Do you know the type of attempted flirting where the person follows you around, mumbles compliments, and laughs at things he/she doesn't understand? It was that kind. It was pitiful. I mean I get it, I'm awkward too, but christ. Plus, the fact that I had a significant other was quite lucid. As I was saying, my girlfriend is so self-conscious and so worried that she fears I will leave her for someone in my residence. Obviously, that will not be the case. I have fallen so hard in love with this girl that everything in life just seems like an obstacle to be with her. I love her with all of my soul and being. It hurts, and the pain is unbearable at times, but it is all worth it to see that beautiful face light up when I say hello. Like anyone compares to her anyway. What's uncanny, however, is that I have a mutual fear. I love her so much I would be destroyed if she was gone. I mean that literally; I would have nothing left. Remember angel, Je ne suis amoureux la fille. Je ne suis amoureux l'homme. Je suis amoureux tu. Je suis amoureux mon ange.

F**** it

Look, I can't talk to my girlfriend who I see only once every two weeks. Her phone is screwed up. It really pisses me off. It's not your fault angel. I just want to murder all of verizon. My brother, doesn't let me on the internet to talk to her wtf? Currently, I'm at school and my essay was just deleted. I know I have a great god damn life!

My TRUE Family

Recently, I have been reunited with my closest, dearest friends. This was such a powerfully nostalgic moment of "the old days" that I decided to dedicate an entire post to it (I'm sweet I know), plus all my other friends have done it. I can't handle peer pressure. So, all of my friends decided to gather at my angel's house for Spring Break. At first I was a little nervous: Would we still have the same chemistry? Would I still seem funny? Have I changed? But as soon as we were all in that room together I realized we were the same sexually-confused kids we've always been. I realize now that no matter how far you live away, what school you go to, or whether you have a beard makes no difference. We all love one another. That's how it is, and that's how it will remain. I look at these people, and I don't see people i have to be cool for. It's just my family. We just lie on top of each other (see what I mean by sexually confused), tell stories, play some music, and of course watch the classic The Rocky Horror Picture Show. What reunion is complete without a group of teens strutting around screaming that they're sweet transvestites? God, life without them is just too lonely. I love them, and they love me. My biological family is always judging or screaming, but not this family. They are there for me. I trust them. I actually feel like they're my real family; as far as I'm concerned they are. We all my be weird or scary or sexually backward, but we have one another. No one really gives a crap if you like to kiss boys or girls you're still family. When we're all together everything is so smooth, never awkward. that's how friendship should be. Most people don't have this; I consider myself very lucky. I love you guys; you are not getting out of my life ever.

Gettin' Laid

Why is it that sex is so popular? Don't think I'm stupid; I get that it feels good. The trouble is that with sex comes a lot of troubles and worries: whether you can perform, diseases, pregnancy. No thanks, man. I'd rather not have my dick fall off. I think f****** is f****** overrated. I don't need all that stress for 3min. of feeling good. For the record, I'm not trying to make men feel bad for lasting three minutes, but that is the average...sadly. I'm sure "gettin' some" feels great, but just with AIDS and, well, babies there's a lot of risks. And, in all honesty, I really don't mind having sex with my hand.

Am I Too Territorial?

I was recently talking to someone about threesomes; hey, i may be gay, but I'm also a guy. I said I wouldn't like to have a threesome. When asked why I replied that I wouldn't want someone else to be doing things with my significant other, regardless of gender. I just couldn't have that. It gets worse. I said that I wouldn't want my significant other to make-out with someone else; again, guy or girl. A tap kiss to the same gender is fine: friends do that all the time. My friend said that they wouldn't mind as long as it were two of the same gender, but opposite gender it's different, it's competitive. It's just a kiss means a lot to me. I only kiss those who I am connected to. Oddly enough, I would sooner have sex with a stranger than kiss them. Sex is all about pleasure; a kiss is intimate, a connecting of the souls. Even if I had permission from my significant other to kiss someone else I would feel terrible. I hope I'm not becoming conservative. Someone help me. Am I too territorial? Am I just weird? I don't know. Any insight would be great; please comment me something.

Since When do Pancakes have Sex with Men?

Okay, if you've read my profile you know that I am bisexual. So yeah, I like girls and guys. All my life I've been accused of being homosexual because I was a little different than the other boys. I didn't really like sports, I held theatre close to my heart, and generally I fit in better with girls. As a kid, I wondered why I hadn't had a girlfriend. I proposed I was gay, but I was in denial. That's our world if you're gay you're cursed, so hide your feelings under your bed. Stupid. Ironically, my girlfriend helped me come to the conclusion that I was bi. Does anyone else find that a little weird? I feel happier that I can admit this; my advise to any closet fiends: come out. Things get a lot less awkward and a lot more fun. Lately, I've been in a "close-minded" area. Basically, they are all f****** stupid homo-bashing, George Bush sucking dumb asses. These people use the word "gay" as an insult. I know it is common, but god, give it a rest. "That's gay. You're gay." Shut the f*** up. That's offensive. The only time I better hear someone say, "That's gay," is if i skip around in drag and sing YMCA. The word gay formerly had negative connotations in my personal dictionary too, but I changed. I say, "That's so pancakes." Please people show that we don't always have to beat the people who are different to death with verbal ignorance. I mean look what happen to the N-word. I'm such a scared cracker I won't even write on a blog. I all I ask for is some consideration.

I hope that this entry did not offend any pancakes. I hope that I did offend anyone who supported Bush.

Don't Bogard it, Man!

I don't know why, but for some reason people think I'm a pot head. I'm not saying that it's bad (I don't want to lose my stoner fanbase). Really, most of my family are into that, just not me. I mean I get that I look stoned: rocker t-shirts, dark circles under the eyes, long hair, you know what I'm getting at. I just didn't know people were bold enough to go up and ask someone. I've been asked so many times if I have any greenbud left over. Now, I'm not the kind to make someone look stupid and say that I'm clean. So I say that I'm fresh out. It just gets on your nerves after a while. Anyone else have this problem, or am I alone here?

Christianity one big Train-Wreck

Religion, praise, worship, what ever you call it is all problematic. So many face religious prosecution. Why, because they don't think some bearded dude healed people and turned into a zombie. Now I'm not putting all the blame on Christianity just most of it. Why are the Christians always so up there ass about sinners and sh**? I don't think they worship, they fear. Think about it; you f*** up in life you spend eternity in hell. Let me say that again ETERNITY. No second chances, no make-ups, you are stuck there forever. I think god may be overreacting. So, out of fear the Christians feel they must get as many as they can to convert. Maybe that'll get them on god's good side. I think you should just you know, experience the bad things you did to someone as the victim. It's fair. I have a philosophy. Just be peaceful. Who cares what you believe? Just live and let live or die. You may be wondering, "Oh well what's your religion Mr. Chambers?" Well honestly, I don't know. I wasn't raised with religion. Most of the time my family makes fun of religion. Does that make me Agnostic? I believe something has to happen after you die, right?

Love?

I'm sure most of you, most meaning three, are tired of my blabbering of angels and love. I apologize; I do not wish to bore you with tales of my significant other. It's just you know when you're a young child and someone would tell you they love you? You would be so happy that somebody cared about you; you didn't care about anything else, you knew that when that person said I love you they meant it. Well, my parents don't say it much anymore, and when they do I have trouble believing them. I feel like their love isn't the real love. They love me because they must; my life promises wealth, support, and "happiness". I think love should be more than just what the person can give you. When they're drunk and/or high they don't seem to love me. They hate me: they want to fight me, they want me to cry, they want me to leave. What happened to love? I haven't experienced real love in a while. It feels good. I can't help but be overjoyed that someone really does love me. I'm sorry, I guess this post ended up like the others, "My parents don't care, but she does". This must be dreadfully boring. You have ny sympathies.

Did you Ever?

Did you ever see something so beautiful you could not break your stare? I have. I tell her she is beautiful, but she does not seem to take me seriously. She is the most wonderful thing I have ever seen. I could stare at her for days and her beauty would never fade. I'll try to put this into perspective. Did you ever see something that left you speechless? Imagine that every time someone answers the door. Imagine every time you see someone not being able to think, speak, or even look away. The beauty hits me like light shining through storm clouds. She will never admit it, but she is one of the most divine creatures on the planet. I call her angel. It's only appropriate: she saved me. The cliche angels created by media and "places of worship" are no comparison. She does not have blond hair, she does not sing, she does not play a harp. She's my gray-eyed, hair-dyed angel.

When They don't Come Home

I saw my father yesterday, briefly. He embraced me, an embrace we both knew as tense. The man has hurt my family numerous times. For some it goes away. I stare at him and see the same man who made a young boy wish he could be taken away from it all. That is my father. He decided to take my mom out. My mom, who has taken the worst from him, goes back with the same smile, with the same ignorance. I haven't seen them since. It's happened before. I've waited and wondered where they could be or what catastrophe could have happened. But it's different now: I am old enough to take care of myself. I don't need them, I never have, they need me. I am a pawn to them. I'm in play whenever I can bring about some sympathy or redress. We've had fun. Empty memories of trips to amusement parks, but I've realized what was happening while I was on that roller coaster. Do they love me? Yes, I am their kin it is natural; they have to. Do they care? I still wonder. Hi mom, hi dad I hope you had fun. And no, I don't mind if you lie in bed for two days because you're still a little f***ed up. I'll have cereal again. Yeah, cereal. Maybe one day I'll be able to leave them, and they'll be stuck with the god damn Frosted Flakes. Do not put blame on those who do not understand what is wrong; blame the person who knows what is wrong and says nothing. I'm sorry Nicky, I should' ve said something. Maybe you would've turned out better. My mom's always said that to me; she's always yelled at me for not being courageous enough to speak out. I'm sorry. I was so young; I didn't know.

Nothing will Take you Away From Me

Hello, I had to post yet another entry about the famous her. Sorry, if you become bored with the topic, or you are as spiteful towards love as I once was. She fears that now that we may grow apart along with the distance between us. But another thing has grown, the love. May I ask her what would I be left with if I lost her? To grow apart from her is to grow apart from myself, which is obviously an impossibility. People tell her it always happens. Alas, people also tell her we are unlike any other couple. Are we not different? I believe so. There is a reason why we met, and there is a reason we love one another so much: so we can not be taken away from each other. If there is one thing I believe in it is us.

Sometimes Things are Different

I'm such a pessimistic person I strive to write about things that piss me off. Every now and then, something different happens. Something good-natured emerges from the bulls*** we call life, and I am compelled to tell all who will listen. This is what happened. If you've been following my blog, which I highly doubt. I mean let's face it; I'm basically writing for myself. As I was saying, if you've been following my blog you know I've posted an entry about "life at home" titled "The Kids aren't Okay". Honestly, I didn't expect much of this; I was just writing about my family. But somebody, a blessed somebody who I love with all of my being, told me things nobody has ever told me. Nobody has ever told me that it wasn't right, nobody has ever told me that it wasn't fair, nobody has ever told me that I can cry on their shoulder. This person is so good to me, and I don't know why. I used to feel like telling others what's wrong would just bother them, and they wouldn't care anyway. I don't feel that way with this person. I see things different now; I still see try to focus on bad things, but I also let the good things shine through. I guess I'm just optimistically pessimistic.
Just in case you are wondering, yes, this person is also her. I'd also like to ask this person to not respond to this in a blog. There is already too much of me on it.

Apology

It has been brought to my attention by a dearly-loved friend of mine that my posts contain some grammatical errors. Now I will admit I am not as well educated as I wish to be; however, this is a blog, does grammar have to be perfect? Everybody who knows who I am carries the information that I am not infallible, but for all ten of you who have read my blog I wish to apologize. Please accept my unfeigned sympathies, for if you are that meticulous I am sorry to propound more frustration into your life. I am truly sorry
For the loved one who brought up my grammar issues, I would like to also apologize for the sardonic tone of this post.

The Kids aren't Okay

Look, we all have troubles with the people who brought us into the world. That alone is sometimes the cause of the hatred by people, being brought into the world, really? I get that life sucks, but how emo are you? Anyway, I too have issues with my parents, believe it or not. My dad: always drunk or high, mommy: always crying or detailing the events of her imminent suicide. That's been life at home for me as far back as I can remember. Oh, I get apologies from them, and I tell them it is okay, "I was too young to remember anyway." Well, you know what? I remember everything. I remember being stricken by my father, I remember my mother being unconscious and me not being able to eat that night, I remember every god damn empty apology, and all the tears they shed just to provide me with a false sense of hope so they could hurt me again. I was stupid to believe my family would get better. It still goes on. Things just aren't okay at home. But I'm not going to cut my wrist, I'm not gonna start using "things", as my mom calls them, to escape reality when it gets rough. I'm just going to live and make sure this never happens to the people I love. I'd like to thank my parents for inspiring me to write this; they finally did something good for me.

Her

I'll admit I am not good at talking to attractive people. Yet, I found someone, her, also known as my angel. My heart beats, my life goes on, I try, I get up, I smile, I laugh, I cry, all for her. I thought I'd never be this mushy person you're reading about. I used to laugh at those idiots for cherishing what will clearly never last. I was the guy who wanted to tell someone they were being cheated on. I would never be one of them; I was of the world. I knew a relationship would just rob me of my soul and happiness. Alas, I am now in love, and I don't feel stupid. I feel happy. That's new for me. I would do anything for her. A life without her is one I don't want. This is the greatest feeling in the world. Treasure those who love you, even if it is only her.

Individuality

You know, there's some much s*** in my life I sometimes wonder "why?". Not that I plan to kill myself and be the subject of some stupid teen help video. All I'm saying is, why do I get so much hardship, or as I like to call it hards****, while others are born with a silver spoon gracing the roofs of their mouths. I see these people on the streets; I try to be nice. I wave and all that Good-Samaritan crap, but then they look and me and think I'm going to rob them. One woman thought I was going to hit her. I know this because she raised her arm to her face and closed her eyes. All I'm saying is people stereotype everything. Maybe I do know drug dealer, maybe I'm poor, maybe I wear a little to much black, but does that make me a monster? Perhaps, but perhaps monster is just another word for individual.