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If you are really listening; an ode to silence


The lost art of really listening to people. The secret to it is we communicated with our bodies. Open stances or closed stances, fiddling and looking away, shifting glances, wild gestures or uncomfortable arm crossing. The saying “Actions speak louder than words” is a lot of the time true. That’s why reading body language helps tell us when we are being lied to or how people really feel versus what they are saying. A good listener can see these things. A true listener can start to understand someone better by these things. Seeing how a person responds physically can communicate their insecurities and their confidences, the things they like and dislike, and also whether they are extremely selfish or are relaxed and loving. Someone who really listens can see right through people.

Then sometimes silence (or the lack of action) speaks louder than words. Whether that inaction is someone saying one thing and doing another or being completely passive and not communicating at all.

That’s why I wrote a song called “Silence is death

I wrote this because the lack of communication is a huge scream in itself. Crying silently, suffering in silence, sighing silently. It’s all a way of showing a burden, communicating pain or indifference. Especially indifference. “The silent treatment” is a way to communicate my pain that doesn’t need words to describe it. Everyone knows what it is. Everyone understands why. It’s because sometimes the amount of weight I’m carrying inside me is boiling under my skin and its turning my eyes red and soggy, its breaking me so much I can’t even speak. Sometimes the silence is necessary because I’m screaming so loud on the inside I can’t bear to speak anymore. Or maybe its the opposite, maybe it’s because the world and people around me are so loud I can’t handle the noise anymore so I stopped trying and shut down. Maybe I’m too tired of this sick mess to speak anymore. Words fall short of the things I want to say.

This is why people say things like this:

“If you’re really listening, if you’re awake to the poignant beauty of the world, your heart breaks regularly. In fact, your heart is made to break; its purpose is to burst open again and again so that it can hold evermore wonders.”
Andrew Harvey

Sometimes its really hard to be bursting at the seems like this always. I take a chill pill and reseed into a happy numbness, which sometimes solves the problems and I start to see that I don’t have to hate and hurt from all the noise around me and inside me. I can let it out and in and breathe and be one with it or separate my self from it. Nothing is permanent. But I do wear my anger on my heart and not on my skin. I wear it on the inside where it festers and starts to boil again and I start my silence.

There’s a difference between serenity and being numb.

anonymous

Communicating like this isn’t all there is though.  Sometimes small talk and social interaction in the trivial pursuits can be a fueling ground for socialites or a draining all-consuming pit of terror. Sometimes I love to gossip and joke with my friends, and other times it tears me apart inside to hear idiotic and pointless words. I get so upset I give a silent tantrum and stop speaking to people.

‘Cause I’ve seen more spine on jellyfish
I’ve seen more guts in eleven year old kids

Have another drink and drive yourself home
I hope there’s ice on all the roads
And you can think of me when you forget your seatbelt
And again when your head goes through the windshield

Is that what you call tact?
You’re as subtle as a brick
In the small of my back
So let’s end this call and end this conversation

Read more: Brand New – Seventy Times 7 Lyrics | MetroLyrics

A Stream of Consciousness List


Inspired by Barbara Ann Kiper’s book “14,000 Things To Be Happy About”.

1. That thought niggling in the back of your head for weeks about that one thing you wish you could avoid

2. Unavoidable situations

3. The inevitability of confrontation and circumstance

4. Both the calm and the rage

5. Emotions that are tangled together like the ball of yarn in the back of your grandma’s closet from 1958.

6. The moldy bread that disappoints to the point of anger

7. Hatred for hatred

8. The inevitability of them finding out

9. Resolving to repent

10. Relentless self doubt

11. Self hatred

12. Self harm

13. Verbal inner abuse

14. The torture of guilt

15. The relief of a pent up word.

16. Anxiety

17. The realization that every human being is living a life just as complicated as your own

18. Sonder

19. Understanding humans are almost unjudgeable. Morals, ethics, and human rights are all a concepts of our cultural consensus and collective attitude in an individualistic universe striving against itself in its hypocritical ways.

20. Chaos and Order aren’t quite as dissimilar as they seem.

21. Love and Hate are not opposites, but simply one is the softer version of the other and the harsher version of itself

22. The feeling of flying after breathing slowly

23. Doubting if anything ever said is truly unique

24. Doubting if “unique” actually exists.

25. Jazz recordings from 1938

26. Discrepancies.

27. “Ubiquitous” is still one of my favorite words, unfortunately, it is not ubiquitous. (hehe)

28. Pressing the repeat button to listen to my soul song of the night.

29. Him. Who is always on my mind.

30. Him. Who is often on my mind.

31. Him. Who is sometimes on my mind

32. Him. Who I would like to pleasantly vacate.

33. Him. Who should really blow this taco stand.

34. Him. Who needs to kindly fuck off.

35. Her.

36. Telekinesis

37. Telepathy.

38. Best friends

39. Know-it-alls

40. Synonyms.

41. Ecce. ego sum mortem.

42. How uncool people are

43. The idea of “cool” being such a vague term I wish I could forgo ever using it in a colloquial sentence ever again in my existence.

44. Extensive vocabulary.

45. Mother fucking scholars

46. Anticipation

47. Mother Fucking Stupid Ass Bitches

48. Uncultured tongues with a plethora of explicit content.

49. Not having to explain what that sentence means to someone

50. Carpal tunnel

51. Bad conditions for creativity.

52. Comfortability

53. Affordability.

54. The reason I am writing this

55. “Goal setting”

56. Careers are for losers who don’t play instruments

57. “I’m a writer, I need my fucking space.”

58. Hidden genius’.

59. Fucking diseases of the soul

60. Humans are an infection upon the earth

61. Mother nature

62. I WISH I DIDN’T LOOK LIKE THIS

63. I write poems because I’m sad.

64. I’m sad because I write poems

65. I write songs because I can hear them in my head

66. And they wont shut up until I sing them

67. I write lists because they write themselves on the insides of my skull

68. And they only way to wash them off is to get them out through my fingers.

69. This is why I have carpal tunnel.

70. This is why I stay up all night

71. This is why I think too much

72. This is why I hate myself.

73 This is why I can’t believe you.

74. I thought I was good at this

75. A list longer than 612 pages.

76. Numbers can’t write themselves

77. But I wish math could solve its own problems.

78. Girls who are too innocent to understand they are innocent.

79. Sexaul repression.

80. Parental sheltering

81. Misunderstandings.

82. Compound words ^^

83. Antecedents

84. Vague pronoun use

85. Nathaniel Hawthorne

86. Song lyrics quoted on social media no one understands

87. Likes.

88. Dislike button

89. Disaster

90. Fucking it all up.

91. Cheating the system

92. Realizing the system was made up

93. Making up your own rules

94. Pointless laughter

95. References too advanced for your knowledge of history, philosophy, and literature.

96. Books written in 430 B.C.

97. Hieroglyphics

98. Happiness

99. Nerds

100. A list that will hopefully last forever.

A Personal Post


atelphobia

This is my problem. It leads to me never believing that others can love me, because I’m simply not worthy of it.

It isn’t women that I don’t believe though, I mostly trust girls. But I can’t trust guys, (sorry if this sounds sexist but… it has been my overarching experience through my life).

I’ve never been good enough for my dad, never strong enough to chop wood or athletic enough to draw the attention of my Dad’s dad, (my grandad). I was never good enough for a lot of guys I liked or dated in the past. There was always something about me that needed to change for them to be pleased. Mostly my body. I was never enough for a lot of other people because they wanted me to be there constantly, and well, I have a life I need to live too.

I’ve never felt good enough to love someone else because of this. As if I wasn’t worth enough to give someone else adoration. But then at the same time I’m too worthless not too, because everyone else must be more deserving than I to receive love. I’ve felt so unworthy in the past that I just summed it up to being incapable of loving others. Incapable of commitment and loyalty because I’m not good enough anyways.

“A Bed Full of Safety”

bedfullofsafety

Even though I have no reason to really think I’m not enough right now. I know I’m talented, intelligent, strong, and mature, I can’t shake the feeling of never being good enough. I can’t help but remember that I couldn’t love, and I couldn’t truly be loved by others, I can’t stop feeling helpless in the fact that I’m just starting to live, just learning how to be.

But being isn’t easy.

edgarallenpoe

I know I shouldn’t believe that I am not enough, but it’s hard to not believe it when I’ve disappointed so many people.

I’m exhausted.

Gaming Community, The Internet, and Sexism


MEN AND WOMEN AND EVERYONE IN BETWEEN.

Before we talk about these touchy subjects let’s make a helpful list :

1.We are creatures with sexual natures (asexuals you count too <3)

2. We are IMPERFECT

3. We are emotional creatures (except for you, psychopaths, you’re one of the reasons we are in this mess.)

4. We all face consequences for our actions, deservedly or not, equally or not, we face them.

5. Our bodies may have different looking reproductive organs, but we are two sides of one coin (or if you are genderless etc, you are the coin and I love you for being super cool, brave, and unique).

Ok so here are some articles I found while looking at news reports:

Game Reviewer Receives Rape Threats 

Continued article: ’30 Days of Sexism’

If you read these you will notice that this community (the world wide web connecting gamers since 19-whenever) is one of many genders, races, ethnicity, religions, blah blah diversity. Secondly, the gaming community in its wide diversity can be extremely narrow minded and can be extremely problematic in its ways of being offensive, abusive, negative, and even life threatening, (see: Swatting).

In the gaming community, things move fast and things change fast. But one thing that hasn’t changed too much is women being treated like a sexual commodity. I know this sounds strange, but I can prove it to you.

Here are some videos made by the gaming community about things that ACTUALLY happen (some of these even happened to me).

I kid you not, this kind of language and ludeness is extremely common among gamers male and female, but the intent behind them is simply offensive and wrong for both sides.

Because of the popular belief that most gamers are male (54%), the gaming culture has been formed around these chauvinistic stereotypes. This doesn’t tend to bother too many female or male gamers much, though there has been some marketing campaigns and arguments about this. “You can’t have a woman as a main character in a video game, it just won’t succeed.” (Jean-Max Morris 2013:1). This a sentiment that was argued by the producers of Morris’s game, obviously this is untrue. The sex of the main character has very little to do with the success of the game, actually, the more the game creates a community the more successful the game will be. The gaming community is comfortable for most people because all of us want to be there and participate, if we didn’t we would simply stop participating in the culture.

Females being treated badly in gaming communities is simple. Females started out as a minority in gaming culture because of the gender norms and boundaries set up in the way games were geared toward, war, violence, adventures, and monsters. These things at the dawn of gaming were “manly”, “rough and tough”, and everything but sugar and spice and everything nice. Now that gender roles in our society have evened out a little more girls dont feel like war, violence, adventure, and monsters are all that threatening to their femininity or threatening at all to face in a game. But from what I’ve seen is that the community of gamers was established on male virtues. Slogans like “Bro’s before  hoes”, “you game like a girl”, and “make me a sandwich” all stem from guys being the dominating figures of the gaming community.

Since males have dominated gaming for so long, girls who have eased their way into the community usually keep a low profile, 47% is a lot, but still women openly saying they are women on their profile or in game can be rare. This is because of threats like what Alanah Pearce received in the comments on her game review videos. For me, I’ve been online gaming in both the Xbox live and PC gaming (League of Legends mostly) communities for years, and I have actually met guys and girls online that I am still friends with after gaming since 2012. There is hope for the community to revive itself, but when environments are toxified by people with no actual understanding of what their words are doing, change can’t happen.

The best way to explain gaming culture is to experience it, but not everyone is interested or accustomed to the way gamers communicate and relate to one another. That is why most people write gamers off as uneducated and not very sensitive, when the opposite is true, gamers have feelings too we just express ourselves very differently. “Young people will always find new ways to represent their cultural concerns, in ways that inevitably alienate the previous generation. Such linguistic creativity as 1337 5p34K, characterized by adaptation and modification, has evolved from the game geek’s need to express and communicate within a supportive community of like-minded participants.”(Blashki and Nichol 2005:85) What we lack is support usually, because the gaming community is very competitive and raunchy. We like the raunchiness to a point though. Things cross lines, and our ways of communicating can be taken to whole other levels of bad. Swearing is normal, insulting people randomly is normal, threatening to rape, abuse, assault, swat, etc. is not normal or legal.

Finals Week Check List


1. Some how reacquaint myself with Alejandro

2. Get more people to accidentally flirt with

3. Cuddle with everyone

4. Fail an audition

5. Environmental Science class is still not accomplishing anything

6.English Composition II is still not accomplishing anything

7. Be annoyed by my ENG II teacher

8. Talk to Dr. Teacher

9. Send love notes

10. Get rejected

11. Cry pitifully to oneself during class

12. Throw papers manically.

13. Throw oneself onto couch in desparity

14. Devise evil plans

15. Watch stupid videos

16. Facebook too much

17. Listen to depressing music

18. Argue with That Pirate Kid

19. Get Married

20. Disappoint my father

21. Dont drive

22. Drink a lot of tea

23. Microwave a lot of tea and meals

24. Eat alone

25. SHIT TON OF MOISTURIZER

26. LIP BALM

27. Have cold hands

28. Play guitar till my fingers almost bleed and my hand falls asleep.

29. Count

30. Try to forget

31. Get depressed by the holidays

32. Cancel New Year’s Eve Party because I hate everyone

33. Unfriend a lot of people on facebook like a pro

34. Go shopping.

35. Video game therapy.

36. Block people on Xbox

37. Make new friends

38. Scrap four blog posts.

39. Pretend to do work .

40. Write long lists.

41. Go to Church

42. Send this link to people

Sample of My Novel


Summary:

A young man, about 16 living in the suburbs of Union, New Jersey in the spring of 1969. His father’s a veteran from the great war, his mom appearing to be nothing but a pious Catholic house wife, and his friends an entirely uncharted world of pirates and seafaring adventures. In reality, he’s just another sophomore in highschool who is crushing on his next door neighbor, Annette, and journaling about his foibles.

Chapter 3.

I jumped out of my window onto what I thought was the soft grass, my knees cracked as I bent them, landing with a thud. I shook it off and walked around the line of bushes between her house and mine. She didn’t attack me in school today.

“Pssssst.”

I looked around the bushes to her yard.

“J-Mad!”

“Shh you’ll wake my ma!” I said and I started walking around the bush crouched down so my head couldn’t be seen.

“Oh shush,” Roozbeh said while he and Luke popped their heads from out of the trash barrels.

“You stink,” I said.

Luke wore a bandana over his nose and mouth. “Affirmative,” he saluted lazily.

“Cap’m, I spy ye a fair maiden, yonder window, twelve o’clock!” Roozbeh whispered.

We stood at attention, I huddled near the bushes behind the barrels.

“It’s Annette!” I said without whispering.

“Get down dammit!” Roozbeh pushed on my head.

She looked both ways out her window, then she look down. A rope ladder swung out from the bottom of the window and her head disappeared.

“She coming down!” Luke said.

“Cap’m! Retreat!” Roozbeh gestured with official battle hand warning to get out of the barrels.

Her legs popped out the window and timidly took the rungs. Then her full body. She was wearing overalls.

Roozbeh and Luke gave up on me and ran to my yard but I stood very still. This was it.

“Annette!” I said.

She jolted, the rungs of the rope ladder thudding against the house loudly.

“Agh, no.” I pulled on my hair and scratched.

She set eyes on me and run off the ladder, slapping me across the face. “Damnit James Madison, do you have any idea what a light sleeper my Pa is? Do you? And what the hell are you doing in my yard?”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I just – I just- I was out ya know – and then I saw you- so I waited. Why are you wearing-”

She put her warm hand over my mouth. “Shush, come this way.”

Annette lead me by the hand to her back yard which lay at the edge of the woods in the corner adjacent to my yard. A small gap where her fence of bushes thinned and the boards in my wooden fence were rotted off highlighted a little door between our yards I had never known about before.

“In here,” she said and slid into the shack.

She pulled me with her and we stood in the dark cramped space. I bumped my  calf against her dad’s ride on tractor and it scraped the skin under my trousers.

She turned a camping light on and closed the shutters.

“Hi,” Annette said, she leaned up against the workbench and crossed her arms.

“Hi,” I said, and dug my hands into my pockets.

“Why were you looking at my window?” she said.

“Why were you climbing out of your window?”

“Because I like going out at night  to—to be out,” she huffed.

“Why?”

“Because!” I got a scowl from her. “Now answer my question.”

“I was with Roozbeh and Luke, and they were hiding in your trash barrels waiting for me.” Oh sweet Jesus, that sounded horrible.

“Roozbeh Badie and Luke Winger were hiding in my trash barrels? What the hell were they doing?”

“Well we play this sort of game where Luke’s the captain and—“

“You were playing a game in my trash barrels? You have got to be….” She let out a sigh. “Whatever, keep going.” She pushed some loose hair away from her face. “Uh, you’re staring,” she said eyebrows raised.

“Oh, yeah, sorry, um spaced out. So Luke’s the captain, Roozbeh is Chief mate and I’m Third mate. And we were on a mission, I think, can’t remember why.”

“What’s Third mate?” Annette asked and looked at her dads tractor between us.

“It’s the guy that does the navigation stuff on a boat,” I said. “He’s the one that gets to drive the ship and command people where to pull the rigging when he has to do a maneuver in the water.”

“Oh right, cool.”

“Actually, I’m pretty sure we have to complete our mission, you wanna come?” Jesus Christ she is gonna think I’m like a fifth grader. I can’t believe-

“Sure,” she said and started around the tractor towards me.

“Oh. Okay,” I turned and we bumped into each other trying to get out of the shack.

“Sorry!” I said as I accidently pushed her into the other door, rattling it.

“Ouch, you jerk.” She pushed my shoulder and I hit the other door and tumbled outside. I got up and brushed myself off.

“I really am-”

“Shut up, now where’s your ship?”

I straightened and soluted without thinking. “Aye aye, this way.”

She looked at me sideways and shook her head, but followed me.

We walked across the street and through the neighbor’s yard over to the other street parallel to ours, entering into Luke’s back yard. His tree house had a small light coming out of it.

“Up there,” I said and pointed to the ladder.

She started climbing. After she went about 4 rungs up, I started to climb behind her.

“A hoy!” Luke said out one of the windows. He gasped. “You brought her!”

“It’s bad luck to have a woman on board!” Roozbeh popped out of the opposite window.

“Too bad,” she said “I’m already up.” She brushed off her overalls and went through the door into the small house. I went in behind her.

She sat on the bench in the corner and I took my chair around the stool we used as a table.

“Now gentlemen… and lady, this is a trust test.” Luke had a paper napkin sticking out of his left nostril. “I’m going to light this, and the first one to blow it out before the fire catches my nose will be the new captain!”

Roozbeh and I sat on the edges of our seats but Annette burst into laughter on her bench. “You have got to be kidding me. You are gonna burn your face off!” she said.

“Not if Roozbeh and Jmad do their part!”

“What if they don’t?” she said.

“They will, one of them will,” he adjusted the paper napkin in his nose.

“What if I do it?”

“You’re a girl! You can’t be captain,” Luke said. “Only men can be captain.”

“We’ll see.” She sat back, and waited. “You gonna light it or am I gonna have to?”

“I got it, I got it.” Luke flicked the lighter, but his hand shook. He flicked the lighter on the napkin, it caught fast and started burning. “I’m not finking out, promise.”

I sat still, waiting to grab it. Did I want to be captain? Third mate isn’t exactly a powerful position on a boat, but a third mate who has mutinied is a dangerous person on a ship.

“Grab it! Someone!” Luke was sweating, and clenching his fists.

Roozbeh lunged, but I took my chance too and both of us butted heads and toppled over the stool between us.

Luke shrieked and Annette pulled out the flamey napkin and stomped on it. “There, I’m captain, now go get some ice and vaseline Luke. You’re all show and no go,” she said  and went for the door.

“You can’t be captain!!” Luke wailed and cradled his burnt nose.

“Beat feet sucker!” Roozbeh yelled. He looked back at Luke and saw through his fingers at the burn. “Damn that napkin really laid  a patch on you man.”

“Stop your lip flapping and go ape on that girl!” Luke yelled.

“Sorry man, but I ain’t wasting my time on that paper shaker,” Roozbeh said.

I looked at the ashes on the floor. “I’ll find her.”

I climbed down the ladder and saw her run through the woods. I ran after her and easily caught up.“Hey, stop!” I said. She didn’t.

“I’m not on the hook for this one, Jmad, now go home.”

“I am going, we both have to go this way.”

She slowed down then, breathing heavily. I steadied myself to her speed and we walked in silence till we were in front of our houses.

“I’ll see you at school,” I said.

She looked at me in a way my sister would when she thought I did something stupid. “Goodnight James Madison.”

“Goodnight Annette Parker.”

 

Distracted


I have lost my attention span more and more lately.

I’ve endured 90 minute to 2 hour classes for that past three months and I’ve just about lost my skill for focusing when I am at home. It’s like my wind and body just wanders and I can’t seem to pick up where I last left off.  I find myself looking up random

and here are all the posts I’ve written and have been interrupted in the middle of.

Weak of spirit: I don’t really know what to do anymore. I’ve become so numb to many emotions. The feeling of wrong and right, how to detect whats wrong. Blurred lines. 10/10/13

Stupid Weirdos: So there’s this thing called a midterm……..yeah lets not talk about that. I got enough work to do that I pretty much, go to class, play piano, and do my homework. 10/09/13

Saying No: I guess I’ve always been a “Yes!” person. Excited, enthused, ready to go, and encouraging the best. I’ve realized as well that because of this I let people into my life that drain me dry. I have to learn to say no. I’m not very good at it at all…. What else I have noticed is that people are eager to volunteer their time to have you “talk about” what you are going through, but hardly recognise when you start to talk about it. 10/02/13

A Never Ending Persecution: There must be something about me that attracts people to call me vulgar names; I can’t seem to avoid them. Better yet, maybe there is something inherently attractive about close-mindedness that people feel the need to terrorize those that aren’t.Maybe this makes no sense. To the point: At least 3 times a week, I am being bombarded with names that I do not deserve, and a lot of the time, I receive these things nick names from people who I thought were friends of mine.

I am on a non-stop song writing streak. It gives me almost a high to write. I love it so much. I think it frees  my soul and mind in a way I’ve never experienced. 08/11/13

I am Starting to See a Pattern here: I seem to stumble into a very neat linear action of falling majorly for guys that are 3-6 years older than me. I can’t decide whether this is normal for my age or unusual. I also am confused by how often I tend to reject younger guys and except older ones.

It might be purely because I find that many guys that are older have matured better emotionally and socially, while the younger ones (between 14-17) tend towards the awkward stages of in between understanding the concept of maturity and the balance of immaturity. Not to ignore the very prominent figure of awesome immaturity, which is another matter in itself.

Maybe its just me. Falling in love with people that i am not legally able to be with in almost any way. So…. I get caught in awkward places. 07/28/13

When all Else Fails, Fall Asleep in A Pile of People: That pretty much sums up  my week-end. Laugh so hard till we collapse and then run out of breath to talk from all the laughing till finally, we succumb to silence and then sleep.

If you cant tell, I am procrastinating writing my five page history paper. Its rather repetitive because it is on the catholic and protestant reformation… Ugh, the information is overwhelming. 5/27/13

Possibilities: 

What I wanted to say on fb: and this everyone can see, and they can feel embarrassed for me w.e. … IDGAF
I am not boy crazy, I actually love women, or I wouldn’t be posting this on your wall.. and I am simply a “needle in the vein of the establishment,” and there is”Nothing wrong with me, this  how I am supposed to be. in a land of make-believe, don’t believe in me.”

“My name is jimmy and you better not wear it out, suicide commando that your momma talked about, king of the forty thieves and I’m here to represent.” -Green Day

Actually, what  I wanted to say was, stop judging me….. please? If I am on Facebook too long, I obviously have no life or problems… If the only thing I feel comfortable talking about to people I don’t trust is random stories that have to do with my guy problems it obviously means I am boy crazy and think about nothing but sex. If I have a bad day and am crabby, I am forever called an immature women. (BTW I AM NOT A MATURE WOMAN, you can’t ask a 15 teen year old boy to be a man, would you ask a 15-year-old girl to be a woman?)
I make mistakes, yes. This is who I am and I can’t change that.

So please, if I ever judged you, I am sorry, can we start over???

What I wish people would do. ^-^ 11/14/12

Things I really don’t Notice: I have to say, I’m a very good observer, but my mother is too sneaky for me. How does that laundry make it from the basement to the second floor so quickly on the weekends? Why is it that all the rooms down stairs stay organized? Mom is the explanation to the household miracles. I call her Marmmy in public so not to confuse her with the other multitude of mothers out there, cause she’s special. And I know, I know, it’s not mother’s day.. and it’s not even my Marmmy’s birthday, I just was thinking about her awesomeness.

As promised when I was in New York City, Clay, I will write about you. I might beautify a little, but that’s what all writers do even if they don’t admit it.

Clay, always sitting behind his mahogany desk between the black columns, a small lap top in front of him and to his right a phone and note book with spaced scribbles in every corner. Though in the dimly lit club like dark 70’s hotel lobby, you could make out his form with the small spotlight that was cast above his workspace.

New York is not what it looks like on Glee, or those penthouse shows. It looks like a dirty city with a lot people and a lot of very tall buildings that block out the sun, stars, and moon. The buildings and people don’t sleep so noise even in the depth of night and early morning is present. It isn’t a bad place though, just not the place I could survive in long. I am not sick and I suspect the city was a contributor to my illness.

Tomorrow is another school day, laboring over my oral presentation for my genetics project. I also must have a full draft of my persuasion letter for British Literature, I’m thinking I might have to write three to make up for my lack of focus.

This has been a long blog, but necessary to cover the ground I have been heedlessly trampling for two months.  1/03/12

Enough. Omg.. .too much.