(no, this isn't the next installment either. I'll write it soon, Kaz, I promise)

     I became a writer because I wanted to see God.
     You know, God? The way you wake up on a cold morning, glance out the newly breath-stained window and smile weakly at the way the piss-yellow sunlight (on the days you've happened to actually bothered to drink the right amount of water, for whatever reason) compliments the cool steel outside your window and the filter that smoke makes as it wafts through.
     Or you've walked into someone's room and they've painted this little girl across their walls, in too many shades of metallic gray; she spiders across the wood, breaching the corners with those downturn eyes, the fabrics of her being unraveling in the frozen moment. He said he'd painted her so that even when he started rotting from not being found, life wouldn't be able to escape him.
     Or the crumpled sheets at the pitch of night as she trails her arm along his, hearing his pounding heart and hoping it's to chase her should she run away. The spiderweb strands of her hair trail lightly onto his face, clinging a hold of the brunette wire that grows from him. The top of his head has started to try curling, but it hasn't grown out long enough yet. He's staring toward the ceiling, his leg on hers so to frame her body, balanced between the task of grasping and falling off the side of the bed.
     But it seems God would rather show than gift.

(this isn't my next entry, Kaz; wait for later)

            I didn’t bother to look at their faces. I knew where they would reside, in the end.

            So many colors, the flames that drew black coal in wispy strokes. They left marks, you know. In subtle glory, they refused to leave after they had long gone.

            Am I babbling? I suppose so. But everyone says that, now don’t they? God, they were beautiful. Freshly made little flames, of so many varying shades and color. I swear to you, they seemed to dance upon that table, utterly and entirely separate of one another (a fragile, unique beauty). They lit up the night, fighting against that sordid darkness.

            Some would argue that darkness consumes us, in the end. Perhaps that’s what it is.

            They only speak to each other, those of the shadow. Beacons of radiance that refused to be out in the daylight. They were frightened. I would like to think because they thought their light couldn’t shine in the glaring of all those other lights that exist.

            There are possibilities in multitudes.

            Some would argue this is the way of the world – it’s natural. Everything – from the species to the rocks – is diverse and multiple. The irony of so broad a singular statement is not lost on me. Yet even lovers of these cold crevices love that which they cannot have.

            There is solution in multitudes.

            They fade. Like a blackout, they go out – if only all at once! No, they etch away. Maybe it’s an amusing sight for whatever bastard decided to lay that blanket of darkness. Did he expect us to cuddle up under its warmth, clothing our naked selves when we wanted to hide?

            Quiet, don’t cry. Oh, please, don’t snuff. Don’t you see? You won’t be able to see otherwise.

            And it grows. Towering over us, the edges of that table don’t make sense with the dark covering them.

            Nothing is clear anymore.

            I’m scared.

            And they all turn, all change. Who wants to fight in this? They were so fragile, you know. I watched them. I hope I don’t sound out of place if I were to say I raised them.

            It’s so hard to hide, that dark. Every time you think you’ve blocked it, you see it peeping out from around your armpit. Or it’s covering you.

            Oh, I must be babbling. Why didn’t you tell me? I’m sorry; really, I am. It wasn’t intentional.

            They were just…so beautiful.

            They turn a color, before they fade. It’s a dim, ruddy color.

            And, soon, they’re all that color. You know, under all that blood and blue skin, beneath the sloth of fourteen hours of sleep, engrained in the guilt of their increasing blame is a flame – the brightest and smallest flame you may ever find.
            Are you human?

     The walls were white. Not an off-white or near-white, either: pure, blindingly white. As far as the eye could peer down the hall, white and sterile walls constructed for keeping in. He had looked for it, too. The second he had showed up, he had searched for any sign or evidence: mold, residue - some kind of fungus, at least. Yet the place was spotless, the same and constant pearly white stretching as far as one could walk within the building.
     It came flooding back to him now, standing in the midst of them. The same constrained breathing, the constriction which seized his limbs and muscles. The chattering and laughter was nearly more than he could stand, at the moment. He kept his eyes locked in front of him, refusing to move, refusing to interact with such a system. Somewhere to the left of him, he heard a scream, followed by more laughter.
     And yet...despite himself, he glanced downward to notice Dora the Explorer glaring back at him, mocking him, with a sarcastic smirk at his peril. He was sure that if he could see the backpack in full, the simplicity of Swiper would rear his ugly head, draped across the fabric in his flaming colored plastic, flaunting his inanity.
     Bitterly, Jonathan looked ahead, aching with anticipation as he waited with these 6 and seven-year-olds for the bus to arrive.
     The underside of his arm itching, he pulled back his sleeve to look at his watch. The part which held the faceplate was metal, while the straps were a caramel-colored yellow. Most of the circles which fit the metal bar to hold the straps together were frayed around the edges; the faceplate, in fact, was utterly cracked, splitting and dividing the important information within. Despite this, Jonathan was still capable to see what time it was. THe watch had been given to him by his grandfather, the last thing he received from him.
     "Kaz," he muttered under his breath, "where are you?"
     Jonathan looked down the road. It was an incredibly hot day, uncharacteristic for early Spring in Illinois. As he stared down the gaping asphalt to the point that road disappeared at an horizon, the trees on the side of the road - and the horizon itself - shifted and waved in the enduring heat.
     He heard it first, before anything. It was a low type of rumble, the kind that builds steadily, increasing in rapidness as it eventually barrels down on those who witness its approach. In the next moment, it rose above that horizon, approaching briskly and going through the shakiness of the heat to solidity.
     With a wheezy screetch, the bus came to a hault in front of the crowd.
     The time for action was now.
     Wasting little time, Jonathan rushed both of his hands out in front of him and pushed with the force of a swimmer doing the butterfly what six and seven-year-olds he could get his hands on out of the way. The chatter which had originally filled the air melted away as Jonathan focused all to his mission: get on that bus.
     Another kid was buffeted by his rising knee as he charged head-long forward. The glowing yellow of the promised goal was near to blinding in the sun, the doors opening just as he was nearing.
     Plummeting another child toward the ground as the boy made a last ditch effort to enter, Jonathan slightly dove to make it in. "Go!" he shouted from where he had collided on the higher parts of the steps toward Kaz. "Go! Get us out of here!"

7:30pmMichelle

it would be such a shame to loose contact with you

7:32pmJonathan

(are you still typing? FB says you are and I don't want to interrupt)

7:33pmMichelle

ugh, fb is being stuipd
DX

7:33pmJonathan

heh, alright
I was going to say
this is what I love about our friendship
we can be utterly rediculous and bother each other to no end yet can seamlessly just be serious. you are a really cool friend, Michelle, and I really appreciate you

7:35pmMichelle

X3 same. You give absolutly THE BEST advice, you're ALWAYS there when I need you most, and you understand me on a deeper level than most people >:D I appreciate YOU

Well, Kaz said I ought to blog about today, so here I am. He also said I should do it at 2 in the morning, but I feel like actually getting to bed around 12 tonight. What does it say about us if he's already started mocking my life habits?

I honestly didn't know you could talk for 8 hours just about media (books, comics, and movies) and talk about the different themes, metaphors, plot, and messages those medias have. I would say I guess that's what happens when you get two English majors together, but I'm pretty sure I've never had that with any English major I've ever talked to.
On that note, in part in honor of Sorina, xkcd life relevance:

Anyway, amongst our long (long) conversation we came up with the idea for a short story (which is absolutely epic). We were discussing ideas of how to distribute our books (when we finally write some we wish to publish) and I accidentally said bus instead of truck for how we'd distribute. This led into this whole idea of stealing a school bus in order to distribute the books (probably due to a lack of funds to rent a truck...I dunno).

Suddenly Kaz looks at me and goes, "We could write a story of this?" To which I respond, "What would be the point? Where would it go?"

And suddenly we realize.

We had been talking about absurdism and literary nonsense (genres of Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead and Alice In Wonderland, respectively) beforehand and thought we might apply it to the story.

So, aspects of the story are to be absurd in nature (not entirely in the sense that Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead were, however). For example, stealing a school bus for children to transport books.

However, the entire story is to be grounded in realism (in a sense). The story is real. They are actually doing this. Random, though completely possible, events continue to unfold (a certain chase in the library will occur).

Also, while written in a very, or relatively, serious tone will also include all the usual literary devices, particularly that of themes, motifs, and metaphors. However, those three literary devices will be completely nonsensical. Special, homemade soda by the character will stand for the corruption of human kind. As the two running protagonists crash the school bus and must resort to stealing a book mobile, the reduction in vehicle size (and capability of use for vehicle) will represent the price of revenge. And even more absurd metaphors, etc.

There'll be random references to really old authors and their works. We'll choose a random genre (such as existentialism) and somehow incorporate the piece into that.

In short, it'll be a completely coherent mess that'll be amazing. We're both brimming with excitement at the prospect of such a short story.

Plus it'll actually get us to start writing again. I need to get a notebook to jot stuff down in. As much as my own philosophy is to challenge and engage the world all the time, I find myself to be far too lax towards it. Either that or I just have very high expectations. Maybe that's why I'm an English major. Literary analysis seems to embody this (and with that barely related tidbit and topic to which so much more could be said, I leave you. Goodnight...and goodbye (Dinosaurs reference for you 90s junkies)).

I honestly hate my damn internet sometimes. Stupid thing crapped out and my aim signed off on me. It didn't sign back on and, of course, I didn't notice until 12:30 in the morning and, naturally, you've already gone to bed, Laura. Ay.

Alright, time for a post I had wanted to write for a while now and never got around to.

The largest motivator for it is the (continual) sentiments of rap being crap and that there is no (stunning) artistic quality to the genre. While this largely has to do with the mass public's ignorance towards knowing how to analyze rap (much like literary analysis is something which has to be taught, to some extent), I'm not going to address that here. The songs focused on here are what're usually referred to as "storytelling songs", meaning that they specifically focus on some form of story with a plot and describe the events in detail. I'm focusing on these because, by virtue of what they are attempting to do, they denote talent, and it doesn't take much for the lay-listener to understand and appreciate the song.

I wish I had more, but all I've been able to scrounge up are 8 songs. They come from my own childhood and tastes (hence why half of them happen to be Eminem). Anyway, enough of me blathering.

"My Fault" by Eminem off of The Slim Shady LP
Definitely one of my favorite songs, possibly ever. While Em happens to completely ruin the poignancy of the song with the skit that prefaces it on the album, taken on its own, it's a flawless song.

In short, the song basically surmounts to Eminem going to a party and meeting an ex-heroin addict who confides to him she's thinking about going back into using. Not really concerned, Em offers that she tries 'shrooms instead. Never having had psychedelic mushrooms before, the poor girl (Susan) ends up downing 24. During the course of Susan "tripping" completely over herself, she starts to reveal aspects about herself which she probably never intended to share with anyone at the party (at one point she admits, "I'm 26 years old and I'm not married/I don't even have any kids and I can't cook"). Towards the end, Em flips out and runs to get the friend who gave him the 'shrooms from the bathroom, exclaiming, "Dave! Pull up your pants!/We need an ambulance/There's a girl upstairs talking to plants/Chopping her hair off". The unfortunate end to this song is we just hear Em sobbing and choking out, between tears, "Susan, wake up! Please wake up. You're not dead.... You're not dead! Oh God..."

Admittedly, not the most cheerful of songs. What makes it interesting (and more than simply a possible Don't Do Drugs advertisement) is the growth of the main character. At the beginning, he clears cares very little for Susan at all and even crassly jokes that she only came, "to get laid and tied up/With first aid tape and raped on the first date". He's not a likable character (nor do I think he's supposed to be). So by the time he offers Susan the 'shrooms, we're mostly just groaning in our heads.

By the time we get to Susan divulging things about her past, the character looks more bothered by what he has to deal with than actually concerned about Susan's well-being. We do find out that Susan was abused by her father as a child ("Susan, stop cryin'; I don't hate ya/The world's not against you; I'm sorry your father raped ya/So what you had your little coochie in your dad's mouth?/That ain't no reason to start wiggin' and spaz out!"), which only makes his previous joke about raping her all the more distasteful.

This time in the chorus, the character has gone from apathy towards trying to avoid blame. After the first line he cries, "Whoops!" and then at the end, "It was an accident!"

In the third verse, we have a curious situation where the character is actually referred to by Susan as "Dad". After telling her to be careful, she tells "Dad" to leave her alone and that she's sick of getting her hair pulled, to which he responds, "I'm not your dad". When he's finally done to find the person who gave him the 'shrooms and explains the situation, they respond, "She's gonna die, dude," and he screams, "I know, and it's my fault! My God..."

When we've finally reached the end and he's crying, he's made a complete change in character. It took a tremendous loss, yet the results of his apathy are enough to (probably) make him now repulsed by that apathy.

Like I said, not the most cheerful, yet incredibly well done of a song. And I didn't even touch on the rhyme quality nor the skill of his delivery and voice acting.

"Think I'm Crazy" by Chamillionaire feat. Natalie off of The Sound of Revenge
Wow, I just realized how depressing all of these songs are. Well, you've been warned.

This is another one of my favorites. In part, because it has a more upbeat, computerized sounding beat, it sounds a little more like the commercialized rap that most who've grown up in this past decade are used to. The difference is the content of the song doesn't suck royally.

The entire song focuses around Chamillionaire meeting a girl at this bar. After greeting and exchanging names, they order drinks and start talking. As the conversation goes on, the girl starts to reveal personal information about herself, possibly dealing with a crime she may have committed. As to what any of that is, I'll let you listen to the track for it.

Ironically, for a rapper who hails from the South (and heartily reps it), Cham comes off here (and in other songs, on occasion) sounding more like he was influenced by the Midwest with his fast, muti-rhyme-per-line, clear pronunciation. Packing more lyrics than the average rap listener is used to sifting through, this is a song that manages to tell a story while maintaining intense lyrical quality (rhyme-wise) and enough detail to vividly paint what's happening.

I admit, still, I don't get the ending of the song. Well, I have a theory, but I could totally be off. So I wish you luck with that. It's a song that'll make you think, for sure.

"Stan" by Eminem feat. Dido off of The Marshall Mathers LP
Alright, if you bother to listen to rap, even only on a mainstream level, you've probably heard this song. If not, then you've probably heard the song it samples, "Thank You" by Dido.

The biggest stand out of (and thing that carries this) song is just the amount of talent clearly put into it (and having a nice sounding sample also helps). I particularly love that Em makes enough distinction in his voice that "Stan" and himself sound different during the course of the song. Unlike "My Fault", the plot lacks the complexity. Simply, Em has a fan (named Stan) who writes to him with a level of passion that is obsession. Stan eventually goes so off the edge from Eminem not responding to his letters that he drives off of a bridge with his wife locked in the trunk (stating, "See, I ain't like you/Because if she suffocates, she'll suffer more/And then die too"). The final verse is Em finally responding to Stan's letter (he had simply been incredibly busy), only to realize at the end that he had seen the news report on the car drawn from the river (Stan) a few days ago.

Really, it's just nice to listen to due to the amount of craft it took to make. Plus you have to give credit to a song which was used during the Nas/Jay-Z beef. But it's not quite like the previous two, I think.

"Somebody's Gotta Die" by The Notorious B. I. G. off of Life After Death
Wow, I've got depressing taste (no surprise for those that know me, I'm sure). Another one of my favorites, in part because of it's gritty, 90s type beat. Took a little while for me to get used to, but it's rather calming (which contrasts perfectly with the subject matter).

Nas really captured what the title of this song zeros in on in his own song "Affirmative Action" (It's sickenin', he just finished biddin' upstate/And now the projects is talking that somebody gotta die shit/It's logic - as long as it's nobody that's in my clique). The song starts with Biggie sitting in his apartment, daydreaming. This is interrupted by a knocking on the door. As he checks it, he finds out one of his men have been shot. As B. I. G. puts in, "I open up the door - pitiful/Is he in critical?/Retaliation for this one won't be minimal". The song goes from there.

Exceeding the level of detail that Chamillionaire employed, Biggie manages to drag entire rhyme schemes on (and on) while not being vague at all about what's happening. This is easily demonstrated within the first verse (I'm interrupted by a doorbell/3:52 - who the hell/Is this?/I gets up quick, cocks my shit/Stop the dogs from barking/Then proceed to walking/It's a face that I seen before/My nigga Sing, we used to sling on the 16th floor/Check it/I look deeper/I see blood up on his sneakers/And his fist gripped a chrome four-fifth).

Unfortunately, I can't tell you anymore about this one without ruining it for you. If you trust my word, try it out. It's fantastic. If you don't...keep reading, I guess.

*Spoilers* (highlight the text)
Basically, most of the song is as I've described it. It's the ending that's the real clincher. I can't help but feel the song is some form of message. Of course, Biggie seems to destroy this idea with most of the entirety of the rest of the album. Or maybe I just haven't figured out how to interpret The Notorious B. I. G. yet. Either way, towards the end we continue to hear Biggie's thoughts. As they get ready to carry out the hit, he reflects, ""Slow down/Fuck all that planning shit/Run up in they cribs/And make 'em catch the man 'n' shit/See, niggas like you do ten year bids/Miss the niggas they want/And murder innocent kids/Not I/One nigga's in my eye/That's Jason/Ain't no slugs gonna be wasted/Revenge I'm tasting at the tip of my lips/I can't wait to feel my clip in his hips/Pass the chocolate/Thai/Sing ain't lie/There's Jason with his back to me/Talking to his faculty/I start to get a funny feeling/Put the mask on in case his niggas start squealing/Scream his name out/Squeeze six knuckles shorter/Nigga turned around holding his daughter". As the song fades out, we hear everyone who was involved scream at each other to scatter as the rain falls around them. And through all of it is the cries of the baby, up until the last few seconds of the song. Depressing, yes. But incredibly powerful and, for the most part, unexpected.

"Kim" by Eminem off of The Marshall Mathers LP
Okay, I'll admit - this one is in no way, shape, or form for everyone. It's my extremist nature indulging itself.

If you're not familiar with Eminem at all, Kim is the name of Mr. Mathers' ex-wife - and their issues and frustrations are rife, especially during this time. If I'm not mistaken, Em finds out his (then) wife cheated on him. Like most people, he was probably incredibly angry; he may have wanted to hurt her, possibly kill her. Like most people, he didn't kill wife, even if he had wanted to. Unlike most people, he chose to write a (very graffic) song about the feelings he was experiencing and going through (killing his wife).

Like I said, it's not for everyone - but it has its merits, I will always argue.

For a song which is for the most part simply a screaming tirade about his wife's unfaithfulness, it comes through the most clear when he almost confusingly exclaims, "I hate you! I hate you! My God, I hate you! Oh my God, I loved you.... How the fuck could you do this to me? How the fuck could you do this to me?!?" Granted, one might argue, that such a sentiment could have been reached simply in that line alone while the ere mentioned rant and list of grievances serve as fluff for a song ranking at 6 minutes and 18 seconds.

On the other hand, you might note that the premeditated "murder" of this woman is crucial to understanding just how deeply emotionally the character is strung and that cannot be realized unless so vivid in arbitrary detail the event is described before the final death.

Then again, you could always point to that as a reason Em should visit anger management before someone actually gets hurt.

Really, the reason this song sticks out so much is there aren't many like it. And the reason it doesn't get lost in the pile of other violent and graphic music out there is because this isn't senseless or, even, pointless and mindless violence and hate. And we can't forget that, to some extent, through out the track. For as the chorus kicks in and the smooth singing about (albeit in a very bizarre way) the way the main character loves this woman who has caused him so much harm contrasts the hoarse yelling of the emotional maniac, it seems the sanity lies in that basic fact about the whole awful ordeal - and while it shouldn't justify anything he proceeds to do, comically, ironically, and oddly enough our humanity (of all things) empathizes with him.

"Brenda's Got a Baby" by 2Pac off of 2Pacalypse Now
Here's one that near to every has heard before or heard of. Much like "Stan", it has a lot of cultural importance (except this time for black youth in the ghettos of the 90s dealing with the crack epidemic as well as Hip Hop). It's kinda one that you just ought to know of.

Now, that being said, ironically I think this one is incredibly weak lyrically (no wordplay and simple at-the-end-of every-line-only rhyme). It's saving grace is the story it tells. And it brings up some fantastic points that sting emotionally when you hear them.

Quick run-down: Brenda is lured into having sex at a ridiculously young age for the sake of comfort. As a result, she gets pregnant. The boyfriend, only interested in sex to begin with, leaves immediately. The family for the most part ignores Brenda all the time, so she immediately tries to hide the pregnancy (She tried to hide her pregnancy/From her family/Who didn't really care to see/Or give a damn if she/Went out and had a church of kids/As long as when the check came they got first dibs).

Ignored by the family, she ends up having the baby on the bathroom floor. Subsequently, the parents get angry because a social worker keeps coming around after the whole affair and they're losing money. So, Brenda decides to leave. She tries to sell drugs but gets robbed. So, she goes into prostitution. "So she sees sex as a way of leaving Hell/It's payin' her rent, so she really can't complain/Prostitute found slain/And Brenda's her name - she's got a baby".

This is definitely one of the songs on here with a less sadistic main character, so hopefully that helps a bit.

"Murder Murder" by Eminem off of The Slim Shady EP
Great title, no? This actually is far removed from the concept of "Kim".

If you didn't know, Eminem's first album was the majoridly positive (particularly in comparison to his later works) Infinite. After it being a commercial failure and critics saying his flow sounded like he was imitating Nas and AZ, he ditched trying to make an album based around what others wanted to hear and came up with his alter ego persona, Slim Shady. As you can probably guess, The Slim Shady EP (a precursor to The Slim Shady LP) is the beginning of Eminem's more foul material.

In light of all of that I just said, "Murder Murder" would've fit rather nicely in the gangsta rap genre that has (admittedly, sometimes obnoxiously) dominated the rap genre for so many years (at least during the 90s, at the very least in the underground rap world). This isn't to say that this song is entirely about guns, bitches, and money. Rather, it's more in line with Slick Rick's "A Children's Story".

In short, the track is about the main character's attempt at armed robbery that goes wrong at first and just gets worse and worse. Now, that I have admitted that this song would have fit within the gangsta rap genre is slightly ironic, particularly if you know the background of Marshall Mathers. Looking back, him saying, "Left the keys in the van with a gat in each hand/Went up in Eastland and shot a police man/Fuck a peace plan; if a citizen bystands/This shit is in my hands," is kinda comical. But rap has never really been all that much about being truthful (despite whatever they may brag and boast) - it's about telling a story and making the listener believe it. The more intelligent rappers just happen to tell a worthwhile story. Believe me, this is one of them.

While, for the most part, removed from the type of material Eminem would later release as his staple, this song does a pretty decent job of getting behind the mindset of the armed robber and his motivation.

This song has some really just fantastic lines which really bring the point across. "Here's your lifespan/And for what your life's worth? This money is twice that/Grab a couple grand and lay up in iceland/See, I'm a nice man, but money turned me to Satan/I'm thirsty for this green so bad I'm dehydrating/[...]But I ain't set to flee the scene of the crime just yet/'Cause I got a daughter to feed/And 300 dollars ain't enough to water the seed".

Honestly, I've already revealed the entirety of the song. Just go and listen to it. The only other thing worth mentioning (plot-wise) is the ending. While he boarders between being comical and serious throughout the entire song, this sets up a feeling that while the entire thing feels unrealistic, there is a level of dark satire, sarcasm, and seriousness to the entire thing (strengthened by the hook - but I'll get to that). This is perfectly capped off at the end when he finally gets stopped and arrested. As he surrenders, he exclaims, "It wasn't me!/It was the gangsta rap and the peppermint schnapps!"

Finally, what I really love about this song is that it screams 90s rap. From the beat, to the scratching, to the sampling. And it's utterly fantastic. The hook is utterly perfect. It first samples 2Pac from (probably) "Outlawz" ("All I see is murder, murder - my mind state) and then Swifty from a track off the EP called "No One's Iller" ("Makes it too late for cops in trying to stop the crime rate"). The 2Pac sample is repeated with then (I'm afraid I don't know the origin of the sample) an, almost, mindless shouting of, "Murder Murder! And kill, kill, kill!"

The song isn't subtle - and yet does a fantastic, artistic job of conveying its message. I love it.

"Meet the Parents" by Jay-Z off of The Blueprint²: The Curse
I just heard this one today and, at first, I wasn't going to post it. Jay tends to write with a (very thick) vagueness which is unsuitable for the type of storytelling I was trying to get at with these songs. Not that it doesn't work for him. He usually has so much damn word play and beautifully subtle double meanings that it more than makes up for the lack of utterly specific details. A fantastic song which falls under this is "D'evils" and, were it story telling as I'm talking about here, I would totally include it. I take back what I said in my review of Reasonable Doubt, that song tramples far beyond your normal expectation for a song.

However, I'm not talking about that one here. I won't say much about this, because it kinda gives away the plot. And, relooking over it, I think there may be deeper metaphores (even if simplistic) that are lurking right under the surface. This is largely based on the last line. Anyway, you listen to it, tell me your thoughts. I dunno what to make of it yet.

And on a final note, I need a few rappers to do a track. I doubt anyone out there writes? I'm not sure where I'm gonna find anyone to collaborate with. Ay.

Hope you're all doing well.

Thanks Escapist.

This one reminded me of you, Erin:

Thoreau would've been proud:

And yet it's so difficult to properly articulate you in any reasonable way. You're amazing like that.

I feel like I should give you all an update of some sort, but I have none. Nothing entirely interesting, at least. Yet there's been stuff happening the past few days. I'm mostly stuck between stuff. I need to tie up loose projects.

Went to the dentist today. This was followed by an unexpected trip to Evanston Park and the beach by Northwestern. It was quite enjoyable. This train of thought may converge into another post, btw, later.

Not much really to say. Other than the heat for a few points, the weather was fantastic (shifting from gray, overcast to sunny depending on the time of day). I think I'd go crazy without anything other than Illinois weather. We're just so temperate all the time. Though when we do want to go extreme - watch out; the weather then goes all out (Chicago winters FTW!).

Yeah....

Time to tag on random song again. I've just had this stuck in my head the past couple days. It's astounding.

[edit] I just rememered something I had thought of earlier today. I could've saved it for later, but I suppose it fits here. I remember when I was younger, I never knew what the future would be like. I didn't really think that far ahead or I thought it'd be the same as things currently were - unstable and, for the most part, rather dismal. I lacked severe self-awareness when I was younger. I couldn't say it was really happy or sad, just that it was more depressing most of the time. What I couldn't have fathamed was that I'd end up being somewhere I wanted to be and utterly sure of that. I don't know if things are ideal and, if they are, who can say they'll stay that way? But I'm happy. And I'm sure of who I am. And I have at least two people who would support me through life and death and Hell and all the way back. And, to be honest, I wasn't even aware that would one day be possible. GMH

Well, tonight was a blast. Stevenson and other local high school GSAs got together at the YO for a dance.

This is important for several reasons - one, the autonomy that the just budding SHS GSA had since my days of high school always been a bit of a struggle (for the most part, our dances were at the whims of other schools because getting us to hold a dance under the then administration was near impossible); two, it was good for all the kids who need a normalized place for them to simply live with their sexuality. No matter what the opposition may say, kids as young as 14 understand their own sexualities perfectly well and a non-sexual enviroment and regular social place for them is most necessary. My only complaint would be that most of the songs were at the whim of the very heteronormative domination that pop music has. But oh well. We got in Time Warp near the end and watching most everyone able to sing the lyrics word for word was fantastic.

Most important, though, was just how normalized everything was - no one was worried about sexuality: the stright girls flirted and danced with the gay girls, the gay boys danced with the girls, and all other mixes went forth. You weren't gay, straight, bi, or a(sexual) that night - you just had fun. And that idea that anyone can be any sexuality (and that is often the case of the world, just not the extent we gave image to) is very healthy and good for anyone entering a world such as this and being non-heteronormative.

Also was great for me to see so many familiar face again. I think the GSA is gonna be okay. On its 6ᵗʰ year and still going strong.

So, once more, I've come after the fact (almost a year by now), but I finally got Slipknot's most recent album. I hope it's good. It's been a really long while, I've realized, since I've listened to anything all that heavy (I haven't even touched any thrash metal in ages, for whatever reason; and thrash is hardly that heavy...). Maybe I'll just blast black symphonic metal (i.e. Cradle of Filth) for the rest of the day to make up for lost time...

Applied for a position at PetSmart last night. We'll see if I get the job. Probably would be best for me - gets me out, bicycling everyday, and gives me something to do. Hmm...I could probably still go out now...it's weird that it's only gotten relatively sunny the past couple of days only around 3:30 to 5 o'clock in the evening. Otherwise it;s just grayish overcast (which I love, don't get me wrong, but it's been too chilly and not all that enticing to go biking around in for extended periods of time). I could take a wack at reading some more, with the time I have. There's probably a slew of things I could do I always want to and never have time to that I won't do. It's scary how much time flies the older you get. An hour seems like so short a time period these days (and more frightening when it does turn out to be as short as you expected...).

In other news, I'm checking out the local churches (for once) since my parents refuse to go on Sundays (largely because our usual is all the way in Evanston, an hour drive away; plus they always feel this need  to go dressed their "best"; I'm showing up in jeans, thank you). There's a Protestant one that's only 5 minutes away on bike and a Catholic one within the same time frame. I don't know the times for the former, but the latter has one Mass time at around 12 (perfect). I'll check both out, of course. Plus there's one all the way by PetSmart, so of course I'll take a look at that one as well. Don't know its denomination, though.

Nothing much else to say. I better head out now, if I want to at all. Oh, Grandma's with us for a bit. My brother bought a hamster, too. Not the smartest little thing, but what more do you expect from a hamster (he was running in circles for hours, so I caught him and placed him on the second floor of his cage so he could realize it was there (his food is there, so it's kinda important). After pausing for a second, he tried to run in circles again and ran clear off the floor. I don't think he realized there wasn't floor there...)? I may post pictures later. The one mega cool thing he does is he knows how to climb up the walls of the cage. Poor guy hasn't realized this makes it easier for me to catch him yet....

EDIT: In recent news, Rebecca Tauber's back! Give her a welcome home. I've missed that girl.