ok so

I have work to be doing, but i don't want to be doing it. And there is no way to avoid doing it, but i feel the necessity to do so. I haven't really slept in 3 days (couple hours here and there, couple classes and labs) but for some reason, i'm as tired as after a weekend of sleep. I've always been like this. where some people get more tired, i'm just never awake.

don't count as a freestyle cause i wrote it down

when people ask me to spit, i just say no. cause when i spit shit, it ruins their flow, aint got nothing to compare to me, go out and plant a tree, save the environ some, sted a bein' a bum, cause you aint got shit to start with this, i'm too fly to take a piss, on all yo' white ass fucking clowns, whose rich fuck faces are stuck in frowns, as buyin' weed by more'n an ounce, can't top this, i'm unstoppable, with rhymes collosal, i'll kill you, your mom, then go back and break your father's fossils. Rick ross is the boss, but i'm the king, when i come to town every fat lady sings, i shit out more than all y'all bring, ain't nothing to compare with russ, you steppin' in front of a doubledeck bus, when you step to the mic, you best be afright, and if you ain't when you come then its ait, cus when you leave it'll be the end of this fight, with you as the loser, shown true as a poser, with me as the closer, get'n all the hoes'er, so limp yo beat ass back home to da dumpster.

dreams

the essential definition of a man, but at the same time, they torment and dance just beyond his reach. Never being able to achieve them makes him who he is, but also destroys who he is not. When you think about who you are, you don't think about who you are NOT. The aspects of yourself that you've changed to be better are no longer the same that they used to be. So which one of you has the right to live? the original or what you perceive to be a better person. There are definitely better attributes, better people, better chances, but can you change yourself to become that? I think you can. The problem is inherent in the difficulty of changing. When something is hard, it forces us to consider the possibility that nature has taken the easiest course, and has made the best possible out of the available materials. So are we born at the peak of our excellence? not as a child, but as a natural human. So is it against nature to "better" yourself, to try to be an upstanding citizen, to help people, to go against your nature to fit in, or to not fit in, either one. Maybe it is wrong to be "better" than yourself, and instead we should simply sink into the mediocrity that threatens all of us constantly, because it is the best that we can be or do.

i'm just too tired.
emotions weigh more than pounds,
leaving no physical damage behind,
but never leaving me free,
until I cannot escape the silk strings
of my past.

i'm just too tired.
to think and feel and cry,
everyday my feet walk themselves,
while my mind pushes against
the pain and misery
of my past.

i'm just TOO tired.
but i cannot be lazy,
i cannot simply lie down,
too many strings tying me up
my muscles straining against the tied memories
of my past.

i'm just too tired.
i will refuse any offer,
accept any critique,
proffer any flaw,
avoid any question
of my past.
because i'm just too tired.

caffiene fail

after taking caffiene for 3 years straight, it ceases to wake me up, and instead suspends me in half-states. half-awake, half-stupid, half-crazy, half-confused, completely tired. morbidity is stupid. My obsession with death is not real, i am simply interested, the same way a man is interested in a woman, or a cat in a moving string. Nothing special, like the simple struggle for survival that suffocates any attempt at self-sustenance. to long for the sleep that brings the same dreams that keep me awake is not the ultimate irony, that is not reserved for me, for i would be too much a fool to believe in myself, and too much an idiot not to. my skin burns with a constant pain that only my own blood can soothe.

drained

sometimes, like now, i feel as if every different emotion and piece of me is a tiny string tied to a very small rock. Each of these invisible spider-threads is tossed out through my shoulders, and back, and legs, and arms, until i have millions of rocks clattering behind me, catching on every little bump in the road, making me work a hundred times harder for every step, never truly running in the wind, but simply trudging. To slowly grind your muscles against your tendon-linked bones, to grab a rock ledge, and pull yourself up agonizingly far. That is what each day feels like. I wake up, if i slept, with the ideas that i can change myself, and so the world. By the end of the day, all my thoughts are beaten out of my like a criminal's confession, leaving only the hope for tomorrow. Then i dream. Each piece of my life has its own horrible moments and its own amazing moments. The depths that people will go to in order to achieve their own ends disgusts me. Especially when they act subconcsiously, because it is not their fault that they work and react and live the way they do. At leas that is what i tell myself about others; i hold myself to much higher standards. I inherited my father's self-perfectionism. I cannot stand when i cannot do something, which i hate. The inablity to complete a task that was assigned is something that i cannot abide by, yet i seem to be constantly in a situation where i am forced to make a choice between one thing and another; watching the un-selected option disappear into the ocean. Humans are so temporary that we are required by natural law to copulate as quickly as possible; we live 80 years before we lose the last of our functions. I do not want to die in my bed, no matter the purpose. I want to die in such a way that i will remember the feeling, the pain, the heat, everything. To see the world under such a different concept would take a lifetime, not the instances i have before i leave everything behind me. I have a fascination with death, it can be violent, angry, peaceful, kind, almost anything. I want to die a million times for the world's problems. I want to fix myself, so that i can fix others. I want to be myself truly, not someone else, just myself. But i can't, and i can't move on, and i can't end my life, and i cannot even find what i am looking for. Instead i am trapped, in every sense, eternally following my own imagined and created hopes.

drexel

so. i went to philly this sunday. Visited Drexel college. It was awesome. first off, they're the drexel dragons...like how awesome..Also they're a d1 school, so the wrestling team'll be ridic. I talked to this girl who reminded me of a girl from a camp from way back when, well like 2 years or something. The camp girl's name was andrea, i called her drea. Both of these girls are short, mexican-looking, really pretty, and from texas. It's really weird, because they seemed pretty similar, and were both really chill, and from the same place. She was real cute, but besides taht, she had done something that i found really awesome. She had applied and gotten into the 5 year BS/MS program, meaning she graduated in 5 years, and had both a bachelor's and a master's degree, then she had done a double minor in french and spanish, and had done a 3 co-op program as well. That's a ridiculous amount of work, although she got her BS and MS in the same field, so it wasn't crazy. She worked with americorps and engineers without borders, so it was almost as if she had had the same plan as me, it was kindof crazy coincidental. My idea would be to get a BS in materials science and engineering, and my masters in environmental engineering, maybe throw a comp sci minor in, but i don't know if i'll have time, specially because i was talking to some of the kids at Drexel and they were trying to convince me to join the crew team, who knows. The we wandered around in the cool air, it was the perfect tempature, my favorite. we ran into the art complex, and the people there were super friendly. It seems as if it wouldn't be that hard at all to apply and make an aesome future for me. So i got really excited, but i'm gonna stop writing for now, more alter.

indeed

So i went and saw DTW (a dance program at school). And i realized that there are a LOT of really talented dancers... I am definately not one of them. Watching good dance is one of the most amazing experiences that i know, and i have to say, that i enjoy watching a really good dance more than i enjoy dancing myself, although i've never participated in a GOOD dance, so perhaps it's incomparable. I'm immensely glad that i managed to find the time to go, despite having just not really gotten over a bad cough/cold/flue w/e. I haven't been posting very regularly, partially because i'm a little behind in work, and partly because i just haven't. The real point of this post i suppose, is something i'm very carefully dancing around, just not literally. At the performance, and earlier when we were playing a little indoor handball **planning on starting a handball team w/ jon and kg** Julia showed up. Having been in worse situations with ex-girlfriends, and actually much worse situations with J while we were going out, I have to say that it was not a bad experience, but it definitely made me think. part of the strange thing was that she avoided my eyes whenever i looked at her, but she would almost always be looking at me whenever i would notice her. It felt a weird. Obviously we aren't going to be comfortable around each other for a little while, which is sad cause we share the same friends, and because i don't think that we would not get along too well, but i dont think she is ready to accept that. In a way, it helped me kindof reach some sort of resolution about the whole situation. There's only so much that you can figure out about a past relationship through the interpretations and conversations of mutual friends, there is a certain amount of subconscious emotional and physical communication that can only be passed on through seeing and being with your ex. I've finally figured out a little bit. I am no longer attracted to J for anything other than her, considerable, physical charm, and I am repulsed by some of her choices and pieces of her personality. Of course that means i'm emotionally "back on the market" right? sortof... I need to pull my pants on first. This school year has been tough, and i need to keep it all together before the end of the year, then i'm done, and i can consider maybe something meaningful. I don't even know if i want a relationship for a little while. I've enjoyed being a bachalor again, it's fun to not worry about the consequences of meeting a girl, or not to worry about calling someone back. I slowly feel that freedom releasing the final compressions of my head and heart, healing the damage that everything a few months ago did. Now i just need to survive through to the summer, then I'll make it. Those are my thoughts for now. I'm also working on the rest of that story, it comes in spurts (like some other things), but i'm trying to work on it regularly. I've made a pledge to myself that i'll start writing more publicly (aka my blog) because that way i can much more easily determine the things that should be shared, and the things that should not, a boundary i probably crossed this week by sharing a poem that i think frightened people, ah well.

please doctor

this is the first piece: I'm working on the next section.

I shuddered awake, hands grasping, trying to keep his dream alive. As my senses came back to this dark reality, i felt the throbbing pain of a constipated orgasm. i hurried to the bathroom to perform a service that was once a pleasure, but no longer. Now i'm kept awake by dreams i hope to have, so i wander the world looking at nothing. This day started early, my waking at four in the morning meant that i wouldn't be getting any more sleep. drearily i walked into the shower, turning on the cold. I let my skin shrink to fit my form once again, under the bombardment of freezing particles. i took my daily toxin, caffiene, vitamins, claritin, painkillers, a thousand pills a day keeps the doctors away... But i had to see a doctor this day, once a year i bluff my way through a visit, trying to convince them i was doing ok. Dealing with cold professionals, not what you want to do on a couple hours of sex-ridden sleep. But i had to do it, had to get the forms signed to keep me working, the only thing that was keeping me from slicing my skin into little strips and meeting the devil face to shredded face.
As always, i was met by a nurse, who i followed to the private waiting room. It was all organized by my company; they didn't want too many people staring at me all the time, i was useful in my ability to fade into the world. so i found myself in a private waiting room, but i wasn't alone. For the first time, there was someone else filling the many seats. She was beautiful, not only because she was good-looking, wearing a business skirt, high heels, her black lace bra clearly evident through her thin white shirt, but because she was another person, someone who would stare at me, watch me, see me before i put on my face for the doctor, see me after i forced a signature out of him. She would see me at my finest and my worst, and she didn't know my name.
I had never seen a business woman before, with her hair done up, her legs crossed primly, nothing out o place at all. The urge rushed over me to tear her shirt off, revealing the daily exercised body that she was so proud of. running my hands all over her bare skin. I wanted to pull her hair out of it's tight bun, letting her free from society's constraints. Instead i sat down across from her, closed my eyes and put my music on, and let myself drift.
I opened my eyes when my music stopped, and she was sitting next to me with my ipod in her delicate hands. I openly looked at her, while her eyes were attracted to mine, letting my vision roam over her wonderfully hidden body. She was still looking at me as i returned my gaze to her face. My face turned bright red, as i recognized the impropriety of what i had just done, but i could not have stopped myself with a sledgehammer.

SUNY Alfred

The school itself is not a terribly bad one. It's average SAT score of 1100 indicating a decent school, not great, but a reasonably self-assured one. The problem only occurs when you delve deeper into the seemingly open and accepting front. The school is fairly small, 1-2 thousand kids in the entire school, much less to say in the engineering section. But when confronted with the idea of taking extra courses, they were astonishingly unforgiving. I wanted to take a main curriculum in the materials science and engineering school, while taking one or two courses in their art school, which is a rather better school than the engineering one. Instead of trying to figure out a way to work it into a schedule with me, they said that they could not do that, my taking art classes was not a feasible concept. I was stunned, but i sortof understood. two different schools, they don't want me to get a back door way into getting into the art school, or basic art classes. So i asked if i could simply use the forge. Just use the forge and anvil that they had set up there FOR the art school, but could i use it even if i was in the engineering school? the answer was no. In order to use the forge i would need to take a 6 year program, ultimately a double major in visual arts and engineering. That sounded ridiculous to begin with, why should i have to take an entire major in something i simply wanted time and space to do my own work in, no longer asking for classes. Also, i had asked similar questions at other schools, most of them saying that a double major in the same subjects could be worked out in a four year, or maybe a five year program, if i wanted a more relaxed schedule. Having to take a six year schedule was strange, but even more so because they were unwilling to bend in the slightest. Even with a lot of AP credits, she said i would still not be able to take a five year double major. That's ridiculous, as i said earlier. As a safety school, their unwillingness to try to make concessions made them immediately get crossed off my list, because they could not see that i was not bound for their school. The resulting internal conflict from visiting Alfred was multiple. Because it was teh school of both my father and mother, at least for a time, I found many different thoughts running through my head, these were the ideas of; age, children, parents, death, depression, pitiful attempts, and the consequences of failure.

trippin'

going across dat state, loooking at colleges w/ the rents. I'll write about it later, once i have a minute to sit down.