The Experiment Has Not Gone Wrong Yet...But Feels It

My preference in writing is to be creative and original. Yet, I now find myself testing the waters with a genre that has been almost all but used up. After all, what powers are left to reveal that no one has seen before? What story has not been told? When I think about the modern "super hero", I think about generations of graphic novels, television shows, and movies that have told the same story for years. I think about those who are obsessed with one or all characters involved, reading every novel, every word, multiple times. The story becomes a large part of their life, which I regretfully admit annoys me. Why waste your life attached to a work of fiction that has no impact on humanity's survival? However, as I feed the flames of this genre, I now understand the thrill of the hero writer. I feel a rush creating a new universe matched with new problems and people. Then, I became afraid when I found myself thinking about the very universe I created, the one that I KNEW was fictional. Maybe it's acceptable because I need to think about the plot and, well, everything else, but it still scares me; this is the nerdiest I've ever been. But this story could be my first completed work if I wanted it to be. In a fictional universe, there are no rules. And in a hero's universe, the connections between characters, plot twists, and places are limitless. You can write a story on an 18-year-old, but you can later reveal literally anything that could have happened to the character in previous years. Endless possibilites produce endless pages, which I want to produce over the course of my life. So if this "unoriginal" genre could jumpstart my career, so be it. Even though I'm embarrassed of everything I've done with this story so far, I look forward to seeing a finished product. And I have 2 more months to work on it before I go back to school. Bring it.

Boredom: I'm Doing It Wrong

I never thought this day would come: the day I actually get bored of being bored.  About a week ago I was accomplishing nothing perfectly, biding my time with video games and computer time.  And now what?  Due to my lack of free will (I can no longer sleep until 11:00, I have to get up at 9:30...) I am afraid to even touch the Xbox.  Is it even possible to play just one hour on that thing?  Once my morning curfew was set, I moved to spending more time on the computer, which frustrated my mom just as much.  So, I caught up on some old shows, watching them from the beginning and seeing episodes I missed towards the end.  Okay, it was really one show, which I finished.  It wasn't much, just a half hour per episode and only 2-4 seasons depending on how many episodes there were per season.  All was well until I completed the series (in two days, I might add); that's when all hell broke loose.  Every show that popped into my head after that was an unsatisfying replacement to the previous show, and I don't really have any interest in seeing a show that I have not seen before.  And, of course, my genre is narrowed down to an action/adventure show, with a plot that carries episode to episode.  I've thought of nothing.  So now, I have absolutely no idea what to do in my down time (when my friends are busy, that is).  Most of my time is spent simply deciding what to do with my time, which usually involves going on Facebook and continuously refreshing the page.  This boredom is killing me along with all of the chores I have to do, so I am trapped.  Maybe I could actually...*shudder*...read.

Idiot Of The Week

Congratulations to Pastor Charles Worley on becoming our first official Idiot of the Week!  How about a round of applause (and maybe an angry mob) for this guy!  Wooooo!  Check out the article here.  I'm sick of all of these religious nutjobs, mainly old white guys, trying to control the LGBT community.  The purpose of humanity is to cooperatively improve society, the environment, and the world, and that simply cannot be accomplished when idiots like this man child are whining about the existence of people who are different from him.  Again, congrats, Pastor.  Just know that the gay community will likely protest your "lifestyle choice" as well.

A Bad Case Of Zone Defense

One thing I love about blog posts is that people get to see my thought process when I explain how the title actually makes sense in my mind.

At this point in my life, I should know that usually things turn out alright when I leave my comfort zone.  Unfortunately, that is something I REALLY can't seem to get myself to do.  As a coach, my mind is instructing my actions, the player, to stay put in his own zone.  The player, on the other hand, knows that it's better for the whole team if he leaves the zone to defend the opposition.  (With a lack of metaphor for the opposition, let's just say that my coach is playing against the team, I don't know.  I kind of lost it at this point.)  Yes, this is about a girl, and yes, my mom will ask me about this post after reading it.  So before I ramble on about every single thought in my mind, I'm just going to say that I could really use a good push to leave my comfort zone.  (Situation-controlling entity of the universe, this is where you sub in for skill to help us win the game.)

Finals Poetry

I know rhyming is cliché now in poetry.  Get over it. (The "bell" I refer to below is the bell tower at my school that plays a song or two every hour. The songs last 5 minutes.)

Finals are awful, of that much I'm sure
I find them unlawful, cruel, and absurd
While writing this I may sound like a nerd
Because my glasses are broken, my vision is blurred.

I'm worried about the week ahead
After which, my brain will be dead
What I've learned this semester cannot be said
I just know I want to sleep in my own bed.

I'm spending all my money on food
Which puts me in an angry mood.
And with all these tests I'm really screwed
(Except for the ones with the teachers I wooed).

Someone said this week will be hell
And although these tests will not be swell
The things I can't stand are, well,
All the songs played on that stupid bell.

Can you hear that pounding in my chest?
That is the sound of my heart getting stressed
It's all because of these stupid tests
Don't teachers see that we need a rest?

"Look over your notes, study them hard."
I can actually feel that my brain's getting scarred
It was burnt before, now it's charred
And it's shattered into little shards.

Studying gives me little sleep
And I can only study when there's not a peep
If I see something unknown, "What the (bleep)!"
And I throw all my papers into a heap.

I leave on Thursday. Not morning, but night
Until then, I continue to suffer and fight
My way through black text on paper of white
So that someday I'm able to witness the light.

I Need An Elevator For My Shoulders

What the hell does that title mean? Well, simply put... I'm going through yet another moment in my life where something didn't happen when I wanted it to - and for a while it seemed like it was going to - so now, as always, I'm just taking some deep breaths and shrugging it off. Only now, the deep breaths have actually managed to piss me off even more, and I can't seem to shrug hard or high enough. I will stop being frustrated once my shoulders hit the ceiling (when I'm standing on the floor, not my lofted bed). So now, I feel like I'm inhaling frustration, and I need an elevator for my shoulders.

Dreams: Signs or Surreal?

Most of us who know the psychology of dreaming know of Freud's theory of sex symbols in dreams, a theory that we know is false.  Dreams are helpful in recording memories and rejuvenate the brain.   However, some dreams we have (or at least I do) are way too relevant to are lives to just be for recording memories.  I had a dream once that I was going after this girl, and then a friend of mine told me not to.  In the first half of the dream she acted basically how she would in the real world, but in the second half of the dream she was "evil" and tried to run me over with her SUV.  Of course there were other, much weirder parts of the dream that made it unrealistic, but I still don't know.  Was the dream a sign, or was it just a random collection of thoughts?