Nonsense

I suggest...

2012-04-22T13:06:00.000-07:00

You are so much more than they could ever become. You know that. You know you will rise so much higher than anyone thought you could go. You have everything in you to do it- and you will use all of it. You’ve survived all this time and now it’s time to live. So face the things that are hindering your tools. Think about what a terrible person your mother was for leaving her children. Think about how blind your biological father was for not seeing what every dad should see. Think about how unfair your father was for treating you like so much less than you are. Shame on them all. Put yourself in the darkest and most painful places that you’ve been to. Revisit them. Let the wind sweep the rocks and dust into your skin and beat the hail upon your shoulders while your worst fears and most hurtful memories manifest around you. Stay there. Stay there and don’t come out until the light of your reasoning and strength break through and offer you a ladder to your own salvation. It won’t be quick, or enjoyable, but the feeling when you get out and can wield the tools of your talent, character and spirit will be so beyond worth all the suffering you’ll face. David, you must put yourself there. You’ve never needed anyone, to survive. You don’t need anyone, to live.

A Piece of New England

2012-03-29T23:05:00.000-07:00

Many colleges have denied me, now. Most of them. This has elicited many feelings.

Maybe it's just me attempting to come to terms or truly some guidance of energies, but I feel like I'm being led. Nowhere on the west coast accepted me and New York and Connecticut weren't too fond of me either. But Massachusetts... My top choice for college is there: Boston University. They denied me. But University of Massachusetts: Boston didn't. Right there in the middle of a city I fell in love with from long ago, a train ride away from everyone I love and offering a state-college education that can only bring me further than I am now. Not only do these college decisions make me feel like I'm being led, but a strange, much stronger, sensation has been coming over me that, to be honest, started from much before any university had anything to say about me:

The thought of Massachusetts is starting to feel more and more like home than California. I grew up in California. I was devoted to that piece of land. I swore I'd come back when I got the chance. Well, my senior year ends in May; I could buy my tickets to San Diego now, have my things packed for summer and be completely registered in the southern California community college system for the Fall semester. But I'm not even considering that. I never honestly did. It seems though over these past many months California has become more of an ambiguity in my sentiments. It's been the same intense change of feeling as if I've been a hardcore atheist and am now being saved by the word of God. Or, at least what I would imagine that to be like. So far the word of God, or a team of very intelligent story-tellers, hasn't come to my rescue.

Maybe someday I'll go back- when I'm not so afraid of how my hometown's changed in my absence. I want it to be the same beautiful, glorious, kind, simple, Schwarzenegger state I spent my first decade of life in. But I know it won't be. And the people I knew have changed. Not necessarily for the better, in my opinion, from what I can surmise from Facebook. Maybe I'll go back when it's become something totally new that I won't associate with the fuzzy, sunny memories of my youth.

But for now, home's become something I never really thought it would be: a piece of New England.

Rocky Mountain High

2012-03-23T00:57:00.000-07:00

It was sunny in the mountains today. Sunny and warm. Some people find those to be synonymous, but that's not the case in Woodland Park. Many winter days are very, very sunny while it's a frigid twenty degrees Fahrenheit outside. But it's Spring now, and though we'll get sporadic snow flurries, when the sun is out it's more likely for it to be honestly warm. Well, warm for here. Warm for Woodland Park's inhabitants who've had a long at least five months of dry, windy, dreadful winter. The highs are fifties to sixties and lows are a whopping thirty to forty, these spring days. Blades of grass are shooting up everywhere, as if overnight. One day of melted snow and suddenly you have a lawn. It's sad to think I'll be leaving this state when it's at its most comfortable and beautiful.

Sometimes I regret having not taken any in-state schools into consideration. I do like being here. And by "here" I certainly don't mean Woodland Park, specifically, but this state. I like being in this state called Colorado and I like being in this state of mind and state of being. (See what I did there?) I'm comfortable here. I'm happy here. But no. No, no. I'm not getting away from here because I don't like it, but because there's more opportunity for me elsewhere. The fields I want to become successful in are bustling in places that aren't anywhere near here. Some may call it unfortunate, but I was raised too big for this state. I was given too much ambition to stay comfortable.

It was sunny in the mountains today. Very sunny. Partly because it's spring, partly because we're so high in elevation so the sun is closer and partly because Colorado has about one hundred and fifty sunny days a year making it one of the sunniest places in the country. I'll just have to remember that when I'm wherever I'll be that that bright, rocky-mountain sun is the same one that shines everywhere. I'll never be too distant from here that I've come to love.

"Colorado Rocky Mountain high
I've seen it rainin' fire in the sky
The shadow from the starlight is softer than a lullaby
Rocky Mountain high

And the Colorado Rocky Mountain high
I've seen it rainin' fire in the sky
You can talk to God and listen to the casual reply
Rocky Mountain high "

- John Denver

Life Is Art

2012-01-15T22:28:00.001-08:00

Music from freeplaymusic.com

Leaving Behind

2012-01-10T19:23:00.000-08:00

Leaving him behind is such a depressing thought.

With my friends, it's different. We're leaving each other but, not behind. No one's staying here. We're all going off somewhere to do something that'll consume our lives. It doesn't mean we'll forget; it just might take ten years- when we take a second while packing for the move to our first home- or sit back with a glass of wine and a spouse- or babysit our college friend's two-and-a-half-year-old who has a fascination with names- and we'll pull out or stumble upon the old photos and will be reminded, happily, of the "good old times." Ten years from now when we can afford a moment to reminisce, we'll do just that. Until then, life is happening.

But with him, it won't be so simple. An excited chat on Facebook or the occasional call to see what's up won't make sense. It'll be the residue of three years of intense companionship that'll muck up the happiness that would come of hearing from each other. So many times I've attempted to imagine what those last minutes might be like until I click my heels and get on my way. Every time I've come to nothing. I simply can't fathom what might be going through my head, or what I might say, or what his reactions might be. I'll be so conflicted; I'll be so indescribably happy to be going out into the world, but I'll be leaving what was once my future- him- my love, behind.

I'll be looking back out of the rear window- or from my front door- or from the escalator- or wherever- and he'll be looking back- or walking away- or gone. I just know I'll look back. I'll see in the expanding distance all the happy weeks spent in Longmont, delicious anniversary chicken, Our-own-dance-party-with-only-us-because-we're-awesome-and-prom's-overrated Party, our movie series marathons, him stepping on a tack, his arms lifting me to the sky, the bouquet of my favorite flower, the sex through New Year's, the frolicking in stores, the never putting the annoying things he says on FML to not give him the satisfaction, the egg sandwiches... I'll see the sun rotating in a perfect circle as the car flips, his hug after I collapsed in front of him and the two pink lines, his hand wrapped around my stomach as I nearly lose consciousness from the medication, his expression when I show him my wrist, the moon on the tears that ran down his face as he left me, his anger and desperation burning through my eyes once I completely lose it, vibrating waking me up at four in the morning to notify me that I was alone a second time, a glaze that signified the coming down of a brick wall I was talking to, trembling cellular waves bringing me his painful scorning- and the deep wish that, as heavy as they are, they can carry cross-country to remind her of her abandoned son... I'll see our two boys and two girls, the beautiful home in Washington, the late college nights in each other's dorms, our novel, his dad patting him on the shoulder at Thanksgiving, my reluctantly welcoming his mother to her seat before the ceremony, Band-Aids being applied by a father's gentle hands... I'll see it, gushing out all at once, a sea of photos sweeping out from my peripherals and dancing in the wind before me like forgotten fliers. I'll have time only to see a few, in the elongating trail, settle to the ground. And I'll witness those dissolve into unseeable particles.

So many times I've attempted to imagine what those last minutes might be like until I click my heels and get on my way. Every time I've come to nothing. Until now. I found a connection, a memory, an image- that somehow makes perfect sense of things:

My pacifier was a dark teal, with either a yellow or clear nob to suck on. It was a special build my mom had found that wouldn't make my teeth form an angle outwards. All my deepest affection was within it. I can't remember anything before that where I didn't have it. I was nearing four years, and my mother prepared me: "You're getting older, Tahlie, soon you'll have to stop using a pacifier"... "What about today? Be strong, you can do it. No? Alright, but it'll be harder later"... "None of the kids at school will still use one"... "Tahlie, it's difficult, but it's part of growing up. I promise you'll be okay." Everything she said made sense; I knew it all to be true. I understood. Finally, after one of the aforementioned phrases or another, I walked to the bathroom with my mother. "No, go," I said. "Alright," she stopped in the doorway, "I'm proud of you." I slowly pressed down on the trashcan's pedal that equally as slowly lifted its lid. My heart was racing like I never new it could. I opened my jaw and, threw a watery blur, I saw my pacifier fall to the bottom, a blotch of color amongst the wavy whiteness.

So many times I've attempted to imagine what those last minutes might be like when I leave him behind.
My pacifier. My love. I'll miss you.

A human complaining

2011-12-16T17:58:00.000-08:00

Epinephrine (otherwise known as adrenaline): "a hormone that is secreted by theadrenal medulla in response to stress and increases in heart rate, pulse rate, and blood pressure, and raises the blood levels of glucose and lipids." In other words, that stuff that causes the butterflies to show up in your stomach. Personally, I don't associate the resulting feeling with anything even remotely as pleasant as butterflies. I'd say lava. Scorching, oozing lava that seeps around the stomach, up to my sternum and through every blood vessel which results in nausea, headaches and joint pain. Butterflies in your stomach wouldn't feel that way. That's right, they wouldn't feel like anything because they'd be disintegrated from my stomach acids.

I'll admit, sometimes the side-affects are worth it- like when riding roller coasters. That adrenaline is pumping when I'm up so high, dropping so fast, looping around, experiencing G forces that are entirely unnatural to the human body... But it's so fun, I couldn't care less about the rush of hormones. Besides, roller coasters would give me nausea, headaches and joint pain even without the adrenaline.

However, in nearly every other circumstance, I find the rush highly obnoxious. So, naturally, I try to avoid unnecessarily putting myself in situations that would bring it upon me.

Today, I found myself in one of those situations. It's nothing too exciting- certainly no Tower of Doom ride- but it was so unexpected: I was in somewhat of a daze from lack of sleep and I was sent to the library to print out something- for the class one wasn't working. I made it in there, signed in and somewhat breathlessly looked for the closest available computer. Just as I was beginning to slide out the chair, I noticed the person next to me: a boy I had slept with about a year ago that I had broken up with and stopped talking to due to his being despondent and feeble- oh yeah, and entirely disrespectful of my feelings. Anyways, it was at that exact moment of realization that he shifted his gaze to me. And it was that same exact moment of realization that punched my theadrenal medulla into action. For a nanosecond I contemplated turning around and making a bee-line to another, much farther, computer. But lo, society taught me better. By the next nanosecond I was sitting in front of that computer, signing into my school account. From the corner of my eye, I could see his puppy-like eyes still fixated on me. Luckily, I've mastered the art of feigned indifference. A few more times within the handful of minutes that I spent there, he glanced over. My paper printed, I signed out and hastily made my escape.

It was utter fear (of what, I wonder?) that opened the flood gates. Still, now, I'm suffering from the residual effects of the adrenaline. One split-second is all it took to form a new knot in the collection of them I have in my back muscles.

Granted, this strange, instinctual, animalistic sensation is necessary- but, you know, so are periods, and those are pretty damn annoying too. But unlike other animals, I'm human, which allows me to complain about it.

What I did instead of homework...

2011-11-29T15:52:00.001-08:00

The music belongs to Coca Cola.

Funny

2011-11-28T00:11:00.001-08:00

This Chemistry homework beckons me. And by "beckons me" I mean "screams directly into my ears until blood comes out of unnatural orifices." Calling it impertinently annoying would be a gross understatement. But instead of slapping its bitch ass into shape, I'm sitting here writing. I'm wide awake because of my beautiful Adderall, but my motivation has taken no part in this.

Funny how a wonder pill can't fix motivation issues.

In relation to motivation, tomorrow I'm sending my two first college applications. The arduous, painstaking, continuous work that has gone into those applications is beyond what probably should've been. My brain, and will and self esteem, is/are quite totally fried. I hate bragging. I have to go very much out of my own self to write a whole two essays about how awesome I am. Then read it to others so they can add things about how awesome I am. And it might all be for naught. It's frustrating putting serious time and effort into something that you have a very slim chance of success for. Well, fingers crossed... very, very tightly.

Something I wrote about was my drive and willingness to work hard. Which is everything completing this Chemistry homework requires. Funny.

The day will come when...

2011-11-23T13:21:00.001-08:00

So thus is my prophecy:

Google, Wal-Mart, McDonald's, Disney, Coca-Cola, Apple and Microsoft will be taking over the world.

Observed:
- Clothing, Food, Shelter: Wal-Mart has everything for your home, family, pets... and everything else, at the lowest legal price. It adapts to any fad, makes higher profits in a recession and is the 26th largest economy in the world. Not to mention it has price-matching making it truly unbeatable. McDonald's provides ready-made and quickly served food for billions across the globe for the lowest legal price. It adapts to any fad, and if it decided to become a country, would be just richer than Latvia and a couple hundred others. Wal-Mart and McDonald's have now also teamed up to make family movies.
- Coercion: I'm talking brand power. Coca-Cola was the first truly global company and has reached over 200 countries. It is probably the biggest pop (ha, see what I did there?) icon, ever.
- Social Stability: Disney has formed the typecast for morality, appearance and social conduct. It starts its process of influence as early as birth and reaches billions of viewers.
- Play and Efficiency: Apple creates aesthetically remarkable gadgets and devices with great portability that are fantastic for applications and graphics purposes. Microsoft creates functional and easy to use devices good for everything else (computations, gaming, programming, user-friendly interfaces, etc.).
- Communications: Google is no longer just the largest search engine. It is a massive, all-knowing, communications/productivity engine. Example: Timmy is reminded via Gmail that he put an assignment on his Google Calendar for a research paper he has due on Bengal Tigers. Timmy then goes to the Google search engine and looks up information such as pictures (by color, size and relativity), news articles (by date, location and publication company) videos, websites, archives and much, much more. Thanks to his browser's (Google Chrome) high speed, immediate updates and great extensions (such as pop-blockers, dictionary look-up, screen shot and "turn off the lights") his research goes swimmingly. He even came across a website in Swahili- but no worries, Google asked Timmy if he wanted the page to be translated into English. After acquiring every bit of information he could possibly have, Timmy went to his Google Documents and wrote his paper, along with making a table of data in his Google Spreadsheet and then put together a presentation. He was feeling a little hungry, so he went to Google Maps to look up the nearest Chinese restaurant near him, and was given a few locations, their directions and contact information, a street view of what they look like and an estimation on the time it'll take to get there. He chose one and called it via his email using his "Call Phone" to see what their special was. After his lunch break, Timmy got back to work. Knowing his work was perfectly saved after every change he made and was perfectly spelled because of the Google Chrome ubiquitous spell checker, Timmy shared his presentation with every one of his teachers via their email, allowing them to leave comments on the presentation itself. While waiting for his teachers to notice their inbox, Timmy browsed Google for a good book on Bengal Tigers, for he had acquired quite the interest for them during all this. He didn't have to spend long on Google Books to find one that appealed to him. Worried that the price might be too high on Amazon, he went to Google Product Search to compare every online price of the book he wanted. After his purchase, he received a ringing from Google Plus that indicated a teacher of his wanted to video chat with him. With no interruptions, Timmy's teacher said she loved the presentation so much she wanted him to make a video of him presenting it. He gladly did and uploaded it to his presentation. His teacher was thrilled, and made one-click movements to share it with her teacher buddies on Facebook and Twitter. Timmy was very proud, and blogged about it on his easy-to-use Google Blogger account. His teacher also posted it on her channel on Youtube, but Timmy didn't have a channel, so he couldn't like his own video. But lo, Google told him he could sign in to Youtube with his Gmail account, so he could like his video, have his viewing history tracked, have videos suggested to him and an archive of the videos he's liked. Oh yeah, and because Timmy got such a good grade, his mother bought him a Google Chromebook that let him play his Angry Birds Chrome application (among all his other Chrome applications) and surf the internet at unbeatable speeds with no worries about viruses.

Prophesied:
A monopoly will form where...
- Wal-Mart provides every person with every necessity of the daily life, including Apple, Microsoft, Disney and Coca-Cola products. All also available online through your Google Chrome browser. In case you get hungry shopping, enjoy some fast-food from the built-in McDonald's.
- McDonald's feeds the world and serves Coca-Cola beverages while putting Disney princesses in children's Happy Meals.
- Disney creates a movie for every ethnicity and origin, that can be watched online in segments via Google Videos, on a page that's translated for you to be able to navigate.
- Coca-Cola advertises non-sequitur appealing to billions of people, urging them to quench their thirst, watch the newest Disney movie they're promoting, buy their memorabilia at Wal-Mart and visit them online to join their organizations now. There's no faster way to get there than via Google Chrome.
- Apple will provide the world with mesmerizing pass times and easy, portable communication- and one-touch access to your Google App that allows you to find the nearest McDonald's or Wal-Mart. Once at Wal-Mart, you can buy the all-functional Microsoft PC with Windows 7, allowing you to efficiently complete any and all work while gaming with the rest of the world.
- Google will allow incredibly easy and remarkably quick access to any information on and communication with all of the above.

Wait a minute, I said "prophecy", right? Which means sometime in the future, correct?
But, isn't all of this apparent now?
When I say, "The day may come when...", I'm depicting things that already exist.
The day these industries have taken over our lives is today. To be honest, I'm really quite comfortable with it.

Please, oh, please...

2011-10-22T16:14:00.000-07:00

I've taken the ACT, the SAT I and the ACT Plus Writing. I will be taking the SAT II Subject Test of Literature at the beginning of November. I will also be taking my hair out, for my nerves will have exploded by then.

I'm failing AP Chemistry. I know that much. The rest I have only a general idea of. I haven't checked for fear of it being even worse than I think. Besides, seeing it only ruins my day rather than motivating me to fix it. I get overwhelmed so easily, that knowing exactly how bad it is only makes it worse. It was the same when I was little; when I got a cut on my finger or a gash in my foot, I simply couldn't look at it if I was to avoid a fit of panic. The same goes for grades.

To be honest, I've already had a paroxysm of hysteria. A few, actually. And that's without checking percentages- or even letters. My body is in so much physical pain from the turmoil and tumult in my mind. I can sit for less than a minute in the same position and then have my entire back crack when I move even slightly. My muscles have never been tied into such complex knots. Nor have the strings of thought that I play my chords off of. Everything is one, giant, bloody mess.

You know, my brother, a convicted felon, got re-accepted into Yale. I just want to get into a good four-year. Please, please just let me have this.

I took the ACT my junior year. The other three are all within weeks of each other. Granted, I'm no starving child in the underbellies of the world, but, please: I, too, want things to work out for me.

Inspiration

2011-10-08T16:49:00.000-07:00

You ever get that feeling where you're truly inspired by something but... you're not sure how?

My mom works for a care facility and a patient there asked her to read some of his writings from after he had had a stroke. She brought the notebook home. English being my mother's second language and the writing itself being barely legible, she asked me to read it to her. It had some bits of odd dreams, but mostly the passages were recollections of a cowboy life. I know nothing about that sort of life and have never been interested, but somehow that writing captivated me. My mom told me this man is quite sharp- reads a lot. After finishing, she acquired a new blank notebook from my excess of school supplies to give to him. I asked her if I could write something to put in his new notebook for him to read.

As I sat down to a piece of paper, my thought process immediately geared itself to its default: poetry. There were no restrictions. There were no distractions. The materials were there. The internet was available to help me find rhymes and synonyms. A man, a writer, depicted pieces of his life and mentality after having a stroke and I had the privilege of being exposed to it. I was very inspired. Minutes passed and nothing magically appeared on my paper.

I felt the surge of rhythm, I felt the blossoming of phrases, I felt the passion of writing- my lines stayed blank.

How could it be? I felt the same tingling in my chest and rush of blood to my head, which I call the feeling of inspiration, yet I was having the hardest time figuring out how I was inspired.

I've come to a conclusion. Some inspiration is simply meant to be felt. Not every feeling of surging rhythm or blossoming phrases must be depicted. When the words are naturally accompanied with the feeling, that's inspired writing. When the feeling comes stripped naked of formal language, that's inspiration by itself.

Guess What I'm Doing?

2011-09-06T22:38:00.000-07:00

So, guess what I'm doing?
I'm playing BeJeweled 3
And listening to music
And waiting for friends to get on FB
Oh, I'm sorry, "Facebook"
I'm changing my computer theme
And trying to hear bits of Jay Leno
And my mom's talking on the phone
Guess what I should be doing?
You're right. Not any of that.
But homework's a bitch.
I hate bitches.
Yeah, take that.
So, I guess I told you what I was doing...

Well?

2011-07-08T00:22:00.000-07:00

What am I supposed to write? I have many things to say. I have many ideas to envision. I have many symphonies of thought to play along the fine, sensitive keys of human communication. But what am I supposed to write? Maybe it would be easier if I were writing by hand; the whole mind to hand, hand to pen, pen to paper connection would invigorate my wheels of machinery that churn out language. Nah. Typing is much more leisurely- much more suited for the weary and tired ramblings of a technology-drunk adolescent. Sometimes I think it'd be nice to be able to make profound realizations and intelligent conclusions from my life- but then I remember the small things. Not everything needs to be looked into, generalized, defined, analyzed, or rummaged through. And in the midst of my current irony, I've come to a realization: What am I supposed to write? Nothing at all.

And On To Higher Education

2011-06-25T17:40:00.000-07:00

"Here I go, mama. Papa, g'bye, make sure mama's okay after I go. Until summer break, adieu." Or something like that is what I'll say as I heave my last suitcase out of the car in front of the designated airline. I'll give them both hugs, grab the bags' handles and wave. And there, as I enter the airport, I'll close my eyes and see the banner stating, "And On To Higher Education. Huzzah!" I'll jump and click my heels- and go on my way.

College. I'm pretty excited- can you tell? I'm ready for some education of the "higher" kind. Funny, it doesn't get much higher than nearly 9,000 feet here in little Woodland Park High School. But, surely, that's not what the phrase is referring to. No, it's referring to education beyond high school- higher on the ladder of knowledge. When high school is simply "high", college is- well, higher.

"A man who has never gone to school may steal from a freight car; but if he has a university education, he may steal the whole railroad." - Theodore Roosevelt. So, look out world, 'cause they're settin' me loose. Be ready universities, 'cause I'm on my way.

If I Could

2011-05-25T17:49:00.001-07:00

A couple summers ago there was a very random act of chance – of love, passion, disappointment and all that. But sometimes I’m very suppressed in my expression. If I could actually tell you what’s going on in my head I’d tell you that sometimes I wish you did love me enough to sacrifice your dreams of small-town Washington living for me and my big city ideas. Sometimes I do wish that you would propose to me right now so I’d say yes and live a simple life with you. But then I remember that I don’t want you sacrificing your dreams for anyone. And I remember that I don’t want a simple life. If I could actually tell you what’s going on in my head I’d tell you that I would never sacrifice anything but time and money for you. I love you more than I’ve ever loved someone – you know, romantically. And if I could I would change a lot of things about myself to make me better for you – you know, temporary changes. So when I leave off to college and you stay up here I can go back to being what is honestly me and forget all about you. But then I remember I don’t want to forget about you. I remember I want to remember your lessons and the joy you gave, forever. And I want you to remember it too. But we don’t need each other for that. If I could tell you what’s going on in my head I’d tell you we never needed each other. I’m pretty sure we’d come to the same conclusions and learn the same lessons had we not come together by some random act of chance – we just sped things along. We condensed a lot of emotions into just a year and a half and here I am, and here you are, and the grass is green and its summer again. If I could actually tell you what’s going on in my head I’d tell you a lot of things I’m a little too shy to say – and write. Until now.

You Know What I’m Sayin’?

2011-04-27T18:20:00.000-07:00

My sternum hurts

from all the weight of distress and shame

and sadness.

My room’s clean,

but everything looks dirty behind salt water

and guilt.

Damn it all.

What an utterly terrible day it’s been.

This sucks.

Sucks like gashes

whose stitches take five months to heal-

including summer.

Sucks like tests,

ones that matter for college and you still fail

despite studying.

Sucks like staring

at you in disappointment while your world shifts

and bends.

Sucks like that.

It sucks like having your sternum start to hurt

from emotions.

From fucking emotions.

Could be worse.

Yeah, an elephant could’ve trampled me on top of it all.

Still sucks.

Give me strength.

What an utterly terrible day it’s been.

You know?

I Am The Walrus

2011-03-20T16:55:00.000-07:00

Goo goo g'joob.

Confusion's got me again. I'm lost all over. I don't even have the sense of direction enough to formulate what it is that I'm confused about. It seems though that it concerns my morality- or my feelings- or my self esteem- or some other teen cliché. I'm supposed to be perfect; I got it made. But not so made as to not know what not made is. I've just made so many countless mistakes that it makes me wonder where they came from. Maybe I have a reservoir in the depths of my being, full of mistakes that I can make. A reservoir with a very leaky damn. However, it's a rather new project and the program and maintenance staff need more time to mature. And even when that happens, a few mistakes will make their way out every now and then, right? John Lennon only realized much after the song was released that the Walrus was the villain in the poem "The Walrus and the Carpenter" by Lewis Carol. He meant the relation in the song to be to the carpenter. Upon realizing this he commented, "Oh, shit, I picked the wrong guy," and laughed on. The title of a song that is incredibly famous worldwide is a mistake. So, what's there to be confused about? I'm lost, but with good faith in upper management, I'll find my way. Mistakes get out every now and then and progress can be expected. I am the walrus, goo goo g'joob.

Oy

2011-02-09T22:40:00.000-08:00

Today was slow. Today was slow. I mean, it was fun. The day was quite fun. It’s just hard not to remember the things that stress you out. It’s hard to shoo off the stuffs that gnaw at you. It’s also hard to forget how tired you are. How worn out you are from all the roller-coasters and kiddy rides. Sometimes, when things slow down and you have all that time to worry, you have to remember to let matters go. Remember the clichés. Remember the things that'll help you out. When you're tired it's still difficult. I'm tired. I'm very, very tired.