What is it about night that's so frighteningly alluring? It makes us thrive, though it hurts with every second that passes by. Maybe we can bare ourselves to a judge-less place. Or, more likely, it just is an enrapturing thing of its own being.

I feel liberated in it, wanting to shed tears in futile or rock myself with emotion in blind hope. Does life come with a price?

I've had this sickly urge for sugar today. I go a full few weeks avoiding soda and eating relatively healthily (when actually eating) and then, almost out of no where, I feel the need to down 2 bottles of orange soda and a butt load of candy. Oh well.

Can't remember if I wanted to say much else. Need to finish paper.... Hope you all enjoy New York. I expect stories and pictures.

Laziness would probably be a good reason half the stuff I want to say on here never get here. What was it I was going to post? Oh, yes, Broomball, being out of shape, and poor hand-eye coordination are not a good mix. I didn't think I was that out of shape still. Sad thing I've probably been the most physically active in my life my first semester this year. Heh, I better get to bed tonight, I'm so sore...I'll worry about the pulled muscles later....

The thing I thought of literally two minutes ago...ahh, yes. I was going over the aspect of intelligence. Another opinion formed as a bastard of my mother's influence. She would always harp on the aspect of good grades and how to pay attention in class, etc., while anyone who knows me could attest, the last thing I've ever considered important about a person was their performance in class.

However, contrasting that, I have always harped upon the idea of intelligence. I expect to deal with intelligent people. Okay, that's not entirely true. I know plenty of people who aren't the smartest that I love dearly; it's when they start to voice opinions (which will be poor, given their own shortsight) and thus infringe upon others freedom and pursuit of happiness that I get irritated. My, that sounds really awful, but one of the few times I'll argue it's true, nonetheless.

And, I cannot deny that the intelligence of someone weighs a heavier and heavier influence in how I view them. I respect the intelligent - I think we all ought to.

What, then, dictates intelligence? It's not what you learn in school, for the most part. That'll make you knowledgeable, but you can still be the biggest dumbass ever and be on Honor Roll. We all know those individuals. No, you won't impress me by your GPA.

However, to side put that argument, don't we increase our intelligence by what we learn in class, simply by virtue of differing opinions and new ways of thinking? True.... I probably was more life-altered by my government and World Masterpieces (take that class, damn it, if you get the chance!) classes than by many other things - though, I'll admit, it was as important a part by the teacher as it was by the material taught. By the way, on that note, if anyone is taking Economics this year and happens to see Mad Dog, tell him hi for me. And get me his opinion on who he wanted to win the election. No one's economic opinion do I trust more.

Anyway, back on topic. Do I still have your attention? Despite the point of this whole entry, I can imagine it must be boring as fuck to read.

So, I attended this Peer Health meeting today, which I had no clue what the meeting was, I'll admit. Our Queer Life Coordinator (I hate that title, principally because the word queer is in it - ever call me a queer and I will punch you; no joke), Justin, was leading the lesson. So I was expecting to see 1 or two people, at most. I walk into a fairly full room with Sex, Gender, and Sexual Orientation written on the board along with Transsexual, Gay, Bi, Pomo, Pan, Transgendered, etc. etc. written as sub-subjects underneath the big three categories.

I swear I thought I had died and went to heaven (yes, they will be giving lessons on sexuality and gender expression in Heaven, to incredibly large crowds).

In any case, I found the lesson interesting, though I knew, to a relative extent, most of what was talked about. I found it funny that I probably knew more about the Trans topics than I did about those Bi related (specifically the terms Omnisexual and Pomosexual, though (if you ask me) I think you're pushing it by going past Pan...but a topic for another day).

So, why this random diversion? No, it's not simply because I found a random unrelated reason to talk about sexuality (or because it's even related to sexuality); it just happened that this was one of the events that lead to the over-arching premise of this post.

I found the information for the meeting interesting, of course. But largely for the same reason that I enthusiastically scoured the internet when first learning about anything gay related - my own ignorance.

And some of the stuff talked about were theory, things I had picked up in my theatre class first semester. And, being a class, and being theory, it wasn't the most interesting.

And that's the principle difference between the ignorant and the intelligent (though there is one last component to intelligence I'll cover right after) - the intelligent are willing to learn. I don't give a crap if it's a struggle to learn or if you don't get it immediately. If you're willing to bother to try to understand and commit to memory the stuff you're going over, that makes you better than a Hell of a lot of other people.

What I used to boil intelligence down to was your reasoning ability. Were you able to, simply, reason and use logic. After all, back then (and still greatly now), my biggest concern was figuring out stuff and right and wrong (yes, you guessed it, largely due to my mother and the faulty advice she's tried to give me over the years). But the fact I forgot to acknowledge was that to continue progressing and learning more, we do have to learn different aspects of life. So, how willing or eager are you to do so? Or, simply, how willing because you know its use?

In the end, it still boils down to your ability to reason and use logic. I am of the firm belief that, armed with those two, you can do near to anything.

And I've seen in plenty of people those aspects. Maybe that's the central reason I point out and notice the potential of people.

In the end, it's all up to how much you want to put into it and how much you're willing to use those skills given to you - and applying the things you learn and using them as points of your reason in life. Really,  reason and logic aren't that difficult; in fact, we're pretty much born with it, as humans, and they strengthened the more we use them.

But you've got to be willing to use them.

The tacked on song is simply because I haven't been able to stop playing this, lately. It's an amazing song.

We all bear the scars...
Yes, we all feign a laugh
We all sigh in the dark
Get cut off before we start

And as the first act begins...
You realize, they're all waiting...
For a flaw...for a flaw...
For the end...

There's a path stained with tears
Could you talk to quiet my fears?
Could you pull me aside?
Just to acknowledge that I tried

And as your last breath begins
Contently take it in
'Cause we all...get it in...the end

[string solo]

And as your last breath begins
You find your demon's your best friend
And we all...get it in...the end

[marching band starts]

And as your last breath begins
You find your demon's your best friend
And we all...get it in...the end!

Everybody!

[repeat]
-Scott Matthew

Well, just got my grades back. Two Bs, a C, and a C-. That's a GPA of 2.42. Wow...I don't think I've ever gotten in the 2 region for a GPA in my life. I know that sounds utterly elitist, but at the moment my grades really need to be higher. Now my scholarship will probably be cut by Williams. I dunno how it'll affect the scholarships I applied to. I need to figure out a way to make more money. Probably work more, whatever I can find. Either that or take out more college funds. Oh well. Do what you have to. Not the first person and certainly worse than me.

I started my Winter Study class today - Peer Support Training. I really enjoy it. Ought to be good experience for me.

I need to write more and work more on my wordplay, far as rap goes. I need to write, period, far as my novel goes. I think I'll google search something for publishing short stories right now....

I read on some forum earlier today someone say Rap was a dying genre. Granted, most of the real lyricism has gone underground, but I'll just leave you with this:

Since I'm in a position to talk to these kids and they listen -
I ain't no politician, but I kick it wit' 'em a minute
'Cause, see, they call me a menace -
And if the shoe fits, I wear it,
But if it don't, then y'all swallow the truth,
Grin, and bear it
Now, who's the king of these rude, ludacris, lucrative lyrics?
Who could inherit the title? Put the youth in hysterics
Using his music to steer it, sharing his views and his merits
But there's a huge interference - they're saying you shouldn't hear it
Maybe it's hatred I spew
Maybe it's food for the spirit
Maybe it's beautiful music I made for you to just cherish
But I'm debated, disputed, hated, and viewed in America
As a motherfuckin' drug addict -
Like you didn't experiment?
Now, now - that's when you start to stare at who's in the mirror
And see yourself as a kid again
And you get embarressed
And I got nothing to do but make you look stupid as parents
You fuckin' do-gooders - too bad you couldn't do good at marriage
-Eminem

What was that you said again? Eh, forget it - the utter talent of this is probably totally over your head anyway.

Well, this is about half a year after it happened to me, but "on time" was never something that ran in my family, it seems.

In any case, towards the beginning of the year, there was held what was called a Screw Dance (why, I dunno) for all the Freshies. The entries all got together and people were randomly hooked up (you got to specify certain things, however, you'd want for a partner). Funnily enough, I was told it was casual dress and I had work beforehand. And, of course, some people had to dress up (ties and button-ups) and, of course, they had to be some of the first people I see. So I do a slight panic episode before the dance. You probably would've laughed.

In the end, I decide to just forget about it and I probably won't see my partner for the night soon anyway, if things when utterly horribly.

I forget the name of my date (I forget everyone's name, first time I meet them (and subsequent times afterwards...)). I do remember she was not from in-country because she kept refering to American customs the entire night. One of her complaints was our choice in dance music (they played mostly rap the entire night. There was a moment where they played Journey's Don't Stop Believing(let me tell you, watching everyone in that room kind of just stop and every single person in there sing the lyrics was one of the coolest things ever) but she didn't recognize the song).

So, at one point, she notices the crucifix around my neck and remarks, "Are you Christian?" Then she sort of laughs and asks, "Are you a hard believing Christian or are you a 'Christian' - American Christian." Heh, I'm probably making (and will make) this girl sound so awful. She was very nice. Quite joking.

However, the sentence did strike me. Granted, I know what she meant. We have many who are willing to claim being a Christian while not following any of the tenements and picking and choosing well away.

However, countering that (and more to my annoyance), we have plenty of zealous, religious lunatics who do more than their fair share to twist not only logic but sanity and reason to a point that living loses all sense. But that's a divergence for another day...

There are many things about the American people which piss me off to no extent. Which all the more angers me because I believe in and love America.  For all out faults, there is plenty when we got right.

Yet, particularly in religion, we've got some screwed up habits (and people). To be honest, if it weren't for my crucifix, I don't think some would realize any religious dinomination about me - which is what I would want. Religion, in my mind, ought to be (for the most part) a very private thing. While countrary to "mainstream" Christianity, my actions ought to speak for my religion. But I see its function far differently from that of others.

In any case, I hope my actions in the end say more of me than anything else. There's a reason I put a good deal of intent into them.

So, yesterday I visited all my old friends at my old high school.

Today I woke up. I brushed my teeth.

I skipped breakfast, I believe.

I was told to shower and fix my room several times.

I started playing with my sister, then we made bagels with butter.

Later I went to my brother's hockey game. I held the door for several people while my brother was getting his blades sharpened.

I watched the game; it was really close. Carmel won, 3 to 2 (alright, Nathan).

We went home, looking for Taco Bell and McDonald's along the way to get food for the family.

Now I'm back home, typing on Xanga. Could you please tell me - what exactly about my "lifestyle" is so incredibly intolerable?

Math final tomorrow. Wish me more luck (I need more for this one).

Well, Chem. final today. Wish me luck.

We all wanted that high school sweetheart
We wanted to be young in the 50s with meatloaves and sock hops
And lawns, lawns so perfect they looked like Clark Gable was kissing them

We wanted to be thirteen and alive and meet a girl that was thirteen and alive
And walk with her past the grandstands, to sit and hold hands, to sit and kiss, to sit and sit,
Like it was something you would miss, but that - never was

We once went to bed like between the bed sheets was a valley with dinosaurs still breathing
And how we capture these triceratops?
And brontosauruses?
But even they were opened up with the smoke that rose out of the homes and the corners that we once climbed through,
The streets and the footballs which we once threw,
The school desks upon which we once drew,
The windows that sat open through we once flew,
Before the outside world of parking spaces and dead friends came flooding on in
And we forgot what we wanted
And we became what we become:
Waitresses and bartenders, city employees and temp positions,
We are junkies and one kiss poems and we cry the stars
As we write our scars onto dumpsters and electric boxes
Because the only thing that we can hear is our hearts
And the only ones listening are the streets

That the blood that breaths through the letters we leave
And we dream to rise ourselves up out of these burning buildings
But instead we get buried somewhere beneath

Because I know my life is like some high school kids notebook
A high school kid that shuffles back and forth between school and home
Stacking the letters and the pictures too close for anyone outside of his own imagination to read
Because it's through the ink that his heart beats,
That his heart breaths
And we all just wanted to write these notes

Check if you like me:
Check if you don’t:
Check if you'll date me:
Check if you won't

Because we all wanted the love songs to be true
And we did love dinosaurs once
And we wanted the stars to hold our hands,
To lick the teeth to fuck us,
but they ended up fucking us...up
Let your smile twist
Like my heart dancing precariously on the edge of my fingertips,
Staining them like that same high school kid licking his thoughts,
Using his sharpie tip writing:

"I was here/I was here, mothafucka/And ain't none of y'all can write that in the spot that I just wrote it in/I’m here, mothafucka, and we all here, mothafucka, and we all mothafuckas, mothafucka"

Because every breath I give brings me a second closer to the day that my mother may die
Because every breath I take takes me a second further from the moment she caught my father's eye
Because every word I carry is another stone to put into place in the foundation that I'm building
Because the days can erase something that I never saw
What all of us wanted and what none of us got
What we all had and have and what we all forgot
That we all wanted to be something
That we all became something
And it might not be the shit we once though we'd be when we were kids but something is still something
And like some cats say, something is better than nothing

Feet are smarter than an engine
And dreams are stronger than thighs
And questions are the only answers we need to know that we are alive as I am when I have the mind of a child
Asking why is 2+3 always equal to 5?
Where do people go to when they die?
What made the beauty of the moon?
And the beauty of the sea?
Did that beauty make you?
Did that beauty make me?
Will that make me something?
Will I be something?
Am I something?

And the answer comes: already am, always was, and I still have time to be
-Anis Mojgani

I think what we want is a confirmation of those dreams we have. We have these visions - let's face it, we were brought up being told anything was possible so long as we fight for it. So we fight 'til our knuckles are bloody, trying to confirm what our broken hands are trying to tell us cannot exist. So we just get to the point that we ask that we're shown just one thing - confirm that it isn't impossible. I can simply breathe knowing that these ideas and hopes and dreams are possible.

Someone confirm it for me - show me one person that does what I believe is possible for us to do and confirms my thoughts of this better world.

Of course, who's to say until we witness it.

Whenever I see a blog or any writing where the individual identifies themself as being in high school (or so), I immediately expect to find, in some fashion, complaints of how things are and how they ought to be. Maybe that's just what I had been used to. I'm more likely to think that's what I had come to expect because I hated the notion that just because I was younger I was incapable of constructing ideas with validity. Of course, there are many things I've done in the past which I now disagree with. We grow with time. But does that mean that I didn't retain (in the exact way the ideas were concieved, surprisingly) some ideas which had been crafted way back in my childhood? Of course not. Think big, plan, stick by your ideas, and craft your own. Don't bother to take what is as the end-all or what you're stuck with.

Which is, I suppose, why it makes me marvel when I don't see an ounce of trying in those written words. They just are. They're arrogent, they complain, they're disgustingly selfish, and they're content with this.

Everything starts with you.

Well, it ain't no secret
I've been around a time, or two
Well, I don't know, baby
Maybe you've been around too
So, there's another dance
All you gotta do is say yes
-Bruce Springsteen

Remember the day that shall forever remain in infamy.

Why is it I have to be so patient and accepting (and sound like a conceited ass in that sentence)? I mean, I really do have enough to deal with. No, forgive me, I can't fill out every request for help. I wish I could, believe me. If I could just solve problems for the rest of my life (and be capable of it), I would. I'd quite enjoy it. But I really I can't. And here I am, listening to the problems and trying to offer support. Tad bit hypicritical Jon, wouldn't you say?

Honestly, I'm not that eye-catching. And I can't even solve my own problems. I'm a false hope if you believe in me.

I should be finishing my paper. I still have time. But I wasted the day. I'm tired.

You know, I would really like to rant about appearance right now - I know, I know, you guys have heard it all before. But when I hear comments for Miley Sirus, listing the reason as to why they like because she's cute - pardon??? "Oh, I like Lily better because she's prettier than Miley." Well, would it be so surprising that this commenter winds up with a eating disorder someday? I shouldn't say that - that's so assuming, it's pitiful. But honestly? Is that how you live you life? Oh, he/she's not attractive, so I won't give him/her the time of day?

You know what - I'd love to subject each person to being an outcast when they're younger. Get picked on, feel insecure about yourself, never know if someone is telling you a straight answer or not - go through that shit and try to degrade another person after that.

Honestly, the things we pick each other over - it's so utterly petty. And disgusting.

Further, that whole, believe in God or you don't go to Heaven crap, no matter what you've done on Earth - I don't know much (I'm willing to contend very little, in all aspects of life), but if that's the basic measure of a man, we're in serious shit.

In a world that can be as utterly cruel as it wants, without humanity's intervention - people's acts of kindness are all we've got. You remember that, damn it - the only difference between peace and Hell on Earth is you. So, thanks for feeding me when I had no food, when you clothed me, when you gave me shelter - oh, and enjoy Hell, because you weren't a Christian.

Fuck you, you pretentious pigs. Yes, I'm aware I've ceased to even begin to construct a wholly logically based argument anymore, and I've also forsaken speaking politely. But I've seen more than enough of Hell. And I'm sick of bickering with the ignorant.

Imagine if you could be so enraptured in someone without having to gaze at the shape of their body, but just enthralled by who they are, the layered facets of their personality. Oh, I can't articulate it.

But you'd never get bored of them and they'd never cease to amaze.

EDIT Dec. 7th, 2008 7:21 PM: I think I got it today, while watching Colors of the Wind on YouTube, no doubt. A surprising amount of commenters were talking about the Wiccan religion, due to the striking similarity of its tenements and those in the video (belief in everything having a spirit or life and being important - assuming I've interpreted them correctly). And for one commenter ("I want to be Wiccan"), I was tempted to comment as a joke, "Don't say that - they'll be accusing Disney of being anti-Christian soon." Of course, I wasn't serious (though, considering Harry Potter and Twilight, who's to say). I was glad to see her exercising her opinion and making her own choices. Anyone who knows me knows I differ in belief, but (of course and always) to each their own. And then I realized my actual problem. As I'm sure you've all listened to the song, it's simply about acceptance and caring for each other. And I love that.

If I'm to go to Hell for thinking that those welcoming gates aren't big enough for so big of hearts - well, then fine. No one who knows me can say I don't love God, but I can't love humanity any less.

I owe my life to a questioning atheist and a deist. I expect to see their faces come Judgement Day.

I've expressed before how, given I do try to be as courteous as possible, I get rather irritated when people act rudely in any fashion when talking to me.

So there's this woman who serves in one of the dining halls who, everytime to just about every person, scowls and barely gives you a second to speak, she's that eager to just get rid of you and move on to the next person. There's a very select few, I've noticed, she does give the time of day to, however. In any case, I always try to be polite, saying thank you everytime she gives me my meal, smiling despite my irritation with the same treatment everytime, etc.

So, today, as I went to get my food, her demeanor was totally different. She was quite laid back, friendly, and we had a brief conversation. I'm terrible with first conversations, so I'm sure I walked away looking like a total idiot, but she was nice! I'd like to think it was a combination of being nice everytime and also becoming a familiar face over time. You can reach anyone, I'd like to think.

Everyone can be reached. Everyone can be...helped. You think some people are hopeless - not me.
-Harvey Milk