Blue and Yellow

Hikari

2006-06-01T19:11:00.000-07:00

Requiem: The hero dies in this one.

"It's hard to say it, time to say it:
Goodbye...goodbye..."

One more sunset.

I don't know if I can accept my two destinies. I don't know if I can face the future. But because time rolls ever onward, I am forced to choose.

"And so it ends like it began..."

Thank you everyone for your friendship and comradery. I'll miss you all dearly. It has been a great journey. Now where one door closes, another must open, and I must start all over again. I can start all over again! Isn't that amazing? I have to let go of what was behind me, but I can start over.

Blue=past, who I am, who I was
Yellow=potenial, future, who I could be
Green=life, real future
Orange=Who I could have been
Red=Who I truly am, where I truly belong
Five=Past, mistake, failure, redemption, grace
Three=Perfection, God, Heaven
Eight=Who I was meant to be, Destiny

"Dear God I'm on my knees before you"

Blue+Yellow=Green
Green+Blue=Yellow
Yellow+Red=Orange
3+5=8

A perfect circle.

"The hardest part isn't finding who you need to be. It's being content with who you are. Stay who you are. Stay who you are..."

I'll see you on the other side.

Another side. Another story.

http://apollo.bluelaguna.net/kh2ostsoundtrack//Disc%202/33%20-%20Passion%20~after%20the%20battle~.mp3

... Fade out, end credits.

Get Busy Living or Get Busy Dying

2006-05-17T00:57:00.000-07:00

Monday night at Orem High was the senior musical theater showcase. I was going to have a solo as I mentioned in my previous post, but that didn't exactly turn out. I still wanted to support my friends, though, so I grabbed my sister and we headed over to the school. The showcase was scheduled to start at 6:00 pm; we got there at 6:06 to find a small line. The showcase had not even started.

My sister found us a seat while I went up to the auditorium technician's booth. In an auditorium, especially Orem High's, I am first and foremost a techie. I found that they were having the worst nightmare I'd ever seen. All the wireless mikes were limited to about five or six. Out of eleven to fifteen. The rest were missing. There was one wireless god mike that the crew had only recently obtained. No one was ready. Mike checks were going on back stage. Cameron Ashby, one of my best friends and the current light op, asked me to help out. I went down to the stage and headed to the back to find what I can only describe as a herd of headless chickens. Everyone was running around in a panicked frenzy. No one knew where anything or anyone was. I helped some actors put their mikes on and helped organize. Jenna Pinager asked what time it was. I looked. It was 6:20. The show still had not started.

Although I came to watch the show, I ended up doing it. I spent most of the first hour running all around the school to get from one side of the stage to the other doing mike jobs and shutting people up. The thing about the wireless mikes was that they all had to be on. At the same time. Which meant that the actor had to keep quiet or the whole audience would hear the latest gossip about Dick and Jane. Silence was not easily achieved during costume changes or mike swaps. And there was no mike plot. It was nerve-wracking, and it made you feel like you were in a high-suspense horror film.

At one point, a girl with Downs named Andy Phesy had to go on and do her Les Miz solo without her wireless mike. I spent the last thirty seconds of the song before her frantically hunting down the god mike, figuring out how to unmute it without alerting the entire audience, and praying that it would work as I sent her off.

She sang into it and the mike worked beautifully. "There is a God," I whispered.

Suddenly I found myself running into the techie booth in a burst of epiphany to a group of half-Mormons, half-athiests. "There is a God!!! I want you all to know that! There is a God, and He listens to the little people, even me, who have no right to speak with Him, He listens anyway, and He exists, and He is the reason Andy can sing right now!" I was estatic. They looked at me like I'd lost it. Standing there in a damp undershirt, eyes wild, and brain-shot from the constant stress I'd been under for the past sixty minutes, they were probably right.

I turned, seeing the house lights go up for intermission. In many ways, I was suddenly not so depressed that I couldn't have my solo. Then I didn't have to be a part of the madness. And I was a lot more comfortable backstage than on it. Admittedly, I was very pleased with my work behind the scenes. Do your part to save the scene and stop going to shows.

The second hour passed by a lot easier. By the time things winded down to the last two songs, I was completely spent. It felt like someone had hit me with a two-by-four and then a sack of bricks. The last two songs were done only by seniors, until the last minute of the finale. When I realized what was going on, I went into awe-mode. Adam Millington was playing "Will I" on his guitar according to the flow chart.

My first clue should have been that the finale was "Seasons of Love" from Rent. Seniors slowly trickled onto the stage, singing...

"Will I lose my dignity? Will someone care?"

I gasped. It was "Finale B". I felt my heart throb.

"Will I wake tomorrow//From this//Nightmare?"

I started singing from offstage, when suddenly I saw Jenna. Seeing the hopeful look on my face, she beckoned my onward. I stepped into the light, taking off my brown overshirt. Brian gave a slight smile. "Will I lose my dignity? Will someone care?" I looked into the audience. It was all a blinding flash of light. "Will I wake tomorrow from this nightmare? Will I lose my dignity? Will someone care? Will I wake tomorrow from this nightmare?"

Before I knew it, I was in the middle of the finale. The spotlights alternated. The voices went up.

"Five hundred, twenty-five thousand, six hundred minutes
Five hundred, twenty-five thousand moments so dear
Five hundred, twenty-five thousand, six hundred minutes
How do you measure, measure a year?

In daylights? In sunsets? In midnights? In cups of coffee?
In inches? In miles? In laughter and strife?
Five hundred, twenty-five thousand, six hundred minutes
How do you measure a year in the life?"

The piano crashed.

"How about looovvvveeeee.......
How about lllllooooooovvvvvvveeeeee...."

We started clapping and swaying.

"How about love?
Measure in love...
Seasons of love....."

Jenna and Dave stepped forward. Jenna began,

Five hundred, twenty-five thousand, six hundred minutes
Five hundred, twenty-five thousand journeys to plan!
Five hundred, twenty-five thousand, six hundred minutes..."

Jenna cracked a bit. I turned to her. I realized that she was holding back sobs.

"...How do you measure the life of a woman or a man?" she finished.

Dave stayed in character as he wrapped her in his arms, and sang Collins:

"In truths that she learned, or in times that he cried
In bridges he burned, or the way that she died..."

Syd. Syd Riggs.

"It's time now," we clapped, "to sing out
For the story never ends
Let's celebrate,
Remember a year in the life of friends...

Remember the love..."

Jenna gave it all she had. Her last, final time. She gave it all. "Oh, you've got to, you've got to, you've got to remember the love! Remember the love!"

I lost feeling in my swaying legs and clapping hands as I lent my imperfect voice to the tearful harmonies.

"You measure in love," sang Jenna. "Know that love is a gift from up above..."

Love... It was too much. Too much. Too much.

"Share love, give love, spread love..." Jenna gave the high note one last belt. "Measure your life, measure your life in love..."

Her shining moment blew me away. We all finished it.

"...Seasons of love....
Seasons of love."

The red curtain--once my red curtain--closed delicatly. It was like a dream. Suddenly everyone except me was coupled in someone's arms crying. Eric Sackett was the guy crying the hardest. Tears were in everyone's eyes to one degree or another (except mine, I don't do crying apparently). In fact, the guys were collectively more emotional than any of the girls. Everyone was hugging everyone. "It's over, it's over, no more..." the air sang. Everyone knew it. Everyone was saying it. "It's over. I can't believe that it's really all over."

I hugged person after person. "Brian, man, you are awesome. Jenna, thank you for letting me come on. Thank you, I love you. Jordon, I love you--in a very...friendly way...you know! Katylin...Eric...Jake...Jeff! Jeff...Thank you. For everything. "

We grasped each other so tightly. "I am a better person to have known you, Jeff Smith," I whispered.

And worse than any two-by-four or sack of bricks, it hit me.

This was really it. This was the end.

Goodbye, Yellow Brick Road

2006-05-11T08:43:00.000-07:00

When are you gonna come down?
When are you going to land?
I should have stayed on the farm
I should have listened to my old man
You know you can't hold me forever
I didn't sign up with you
I'm not a present for your friends to open
This boy's too young to be singing
The blues…

It’s May now. It’s the end. It’s the curtain call, the finale B, the coup de grace. The last chapter. The end that comes before the beginning. Life was supposed to have a death after high school before starting up again. Unfortunately, I am learning that life does not even begin until after I step through the “O”.

Yes. A final door.
(*Sigh*) How typical.

So goodbye, Yellow Brick Road
Where the dogs of society howl
You can't plant me in your penthouse
I'm going back to my plough
Back to the howling old owl in the woods
Hunting the horny back toad…

I have all these assignments to finish before the week is over. I also need to find a musical score for the song I want to do for the senior musical showcase. I’m only in there because I was shoved in at the last minute. If I don’t find the music, that will be one more dream from my high school days never realized. It’s from Big River and it’s called “Free at Last”.

Oh, I've finally decided my future lies
Beyond the Yellow Brick Road…

It’s good to see that all my friends have dreams and goals to accomplish after high school. One friend wants to be the richest, greatest editor ever. Another wants to be a vet.

What do you think you'll do then?
I bet that'll shoot down your plane
It'll take you a couple of vodka and tonics
To set you on your feet again
Maybe you'll get a replacement
There's plenty like me to be found
Mongrels who ain't got a penny
Sniffing for tidbits like you on the ground.

Another wants to study law and be a negotiator in hostage situations. And another, one of my best friends, wants to be a hospital administrator, own a hospital chain, and perhaps eventually he will put IHC out of business. If he has time, he has joked, he will also own a Panda Express chain.

So goodbye, Yellow Brick Road!
Where the dogs of society howl
You can't plant me in your penthouse,
I'm going back to my plough
Back to the howling old owl in the woods
Hunting the horny back toad…

And me? I don’t know what I want. Except that I don’t want to wake up on June 2nd, 2006.

Oh, I've finally decided
My future lies beyond the Yellow Brick Road.

The Taste of Ink

2006-04-23T23:56:00.000-07:00

Spring break was...kinda normal. I had the sulfur burps--there's a more sophisticated name for it, but it's this really gross sickness that basically turns you into a walking, talking, (forgive my language) burbing and farting stink bomb. You also have frequent, intimate conversations with the toilet. And most people throw up often and are bed ridden, but I didn't. It's a virus that lives somewhere in my body, and will be there for the rest of my life. It's not an actual bug, it's really a colony of these ameobas called...

Okay, so enough of grossing you out with my bodily functions. If you want a good read for the end of the year, I recommend My Name is Asher Lev by Chaim Potok or Cry, the Beloved Country by Alan Paton. They give you really nice epiphanies about life, maybe even yours.

Briefing on something that happened with Ben. First, at a birthday party for Eric Smith, I ignored him. It was just something that happened in me. But later that night, I regretted it so much. I wanted to relive that night so I wasn't a jerk. That night, I decided that once and for all I need to determine what kind of friendship I want with Ben. And either there is a friendship, or nothing at all. End of story.

So the next day at work, instead of ignoring him I talked to him. It amazed me (and continues to amaze me) how in spite of my rudeness, he still played the friend. It's a great example to me. Let's all do that.

It reminded me of unconditional love, and no prejudice about my problems. So that reminds me now: I want to publically apologize to one of my good friends, McKay. Please forgive me for being so harsh and judgemental that night in the hallways. It was not my place. I beg your forgiveness. I do not judge you anymore; in a way, I understand you more. Please forgive me.

And now, a new song about my life and the complex relationship I have with God, my best friends, the blue and yellow high-school-romantic era that rapidly draws to a close, and the world and life that I find gladly, dangerously, opening itself up before my very eyes...

"The Taste of Ink"--The Used
Is it worth it? Can you even hear me?
Standing with your spotlight on me,
Not enough to feed the hungry.
I'm tired, and I felt it for a while now
In this sea of lonely
The taste of ink is getting old
It's four o' clock in the [early] morning
Each day gets more and more like the last day
Still I can see it coming,
While I'm standing in the river drowning,
This could be my chance to break out
This could be my chance to say goodbye.
At last it's finally over,
Couldn't take this town much longer
Being half-dead wasn't what I planned to be
Now I'm ready to be free:

So here I am, it's in my hands
And I'll savor every moment of this
So here I am, alive at last
And I'll savor every moment of this.

And won't you think I'm pretty
When I'm standing top the bright-lit city
And I'll take your hand and pick you up,
And keep you there to so you can see.
As long as you're alive and care
I promise I will take you there,
And we'll drink and dance the night away.

As long as you're alive, here I am
I promise I will take you there.

P.S. Ben Harper is really good.

A Little Less Sixteen Candles

2006-04-11T09:13:00.000-07:00

So here's the story.

A couple of months ago, Aylla (Cameron Ashby's "girlfriend") asked me to ask Jessica Simpson out to prom. Tina Edmunds, Allya Sylvanstoke, and Jessica Simpson are like the three musketeers...except not...okay, try the three Muses. They are inseparable. The three of them "just have to" go to prom together.

I like Jessica, and I think she's very nice. We're not best friends, but we are more friends than we were last year. So I say sure, why not.

Last week, Aylla started telling me that I needed to ask her very, very soon. According to her, Jessica bought a dress last year but never got asked, so this year Jessica's mom said that she has to get asked before she buys the dress. Jessica had to buy the dress she wanted in the next two or three days.

At first I was like, "Okay, thanks for the memo." But deep down, I wasn't 100% sure I wanted to even go to prom at all. Aylla continued by telling me that she would have it all set up for me to ask her, and all I would have to do is go to a party at her house on Friday.

When I got home and thought about it, I realized that even if I could go to prom, there was a different girl I wanted to ask: Kristen Southerland. But she and Jordan Sorenson were pratically "going out" (even though they aren't really, or something like that). My sister found out that Aylla had basically taken the entire operation into her own hands: she had made a DVD slideshow out of Jessica's baby and child pictures up to her current age, and at the end of the slide show it said, "Will you go to prom with me? Love, Marcus." I had nothing to do with the DVD.

One of my teachers told me that I had to be honest with Jessica. I couldn't go to prom unless it was with someone I had picked--otherwise I'd spend the whole time looking at Kristen. That wasn't entirely true...but she had a good point. So right then, in the middle of fourth period, she went and got Jessica Simpson out of class. I talked to her. Apparently, there was no dress deadline, and she had just worn the prom dress to Homecoming. She said it was no big deal, and she felt a bit uncomfortable about Aylla arranging all this. In fact, she knew that I was supposed to ask her because Aylla had told her. "And where's the surprise in that?" she said.

I still felt like a heel. Without thinking, I told her that there was another guy who would ask her. NEVER LIE! She smiled, and told me to keep his name a secret.

After a moment, I came up with someone: my friend Eric Smith. Surely he would take her. They had been in The Forgiener together. That night, at the party Aylla showed me the movie. She was angry at me and at herself for "getting involved". And she gave Jessica the DVD, to which Jessica had replied, "This is to remember the time I almost got asked to prom."

Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Downstairs, I asked Jordan about asking "his" girl, Kristen. He actually was glad. Since everyone thinks they are going out, he felt pressured into asking her because he was afraid no one else would--and they've already been to a dance. But if I was gonna ask her, then that made things cool. I sighed with some relief.

The next day at work, Eric told me that he was actually already planning on asking someone. I panicked. Now I was in some deep trouble. Desperatly, I asked Julie Garbutt this morning to talk to Trevor Robertson (the Jim Carry of Orem High) to ask Jessica. I have yet to hear from her.

As Julie and I talked, Ben came up, and it was mentioned how he thought of asking her to prom. She said that if Ben asked her now, after the way he treated her during the play Seven Brides, she would essentially tell him to drop dead. "He lost his chance," she said.

I hate dramas.

Sure Things Fall

2006-04-02T01:29:00.001-08:00

Right now I'm in Orem High's school musical, Seven Brides for Seven Brothers. I really wish I wasn't in it, because it's a huge amount of stress in my life, and if I could I would quit. But oh well. Saturday night was personally my worst night because I danced so badly. That's all I do. I walk across the stage in the overture to get a haircut and then I dance during the social. What a waste. And...who would guess that the lead, Jeff Smith, is obsessed with Kingdom Hearts II? There's a techie who plays it in the technician's booth, too. I spoiled one or two things...self control!!!!!! Again, for anyone who has an interest and an hour's worth of free reading time, go to kingdomheartsnovel.blogspot.com to check out the beginning of a Kingdom Hearts novel.

By the way, King Kong is only worth seeing once, if at all. Gosh, that was such a waste of a movie. Adrien Brody was awesome, though. Jack Black, stupid as usual. Naomi Watts...practically all she did was scream and slowly turn around at the next monster spying on her (sooo annoying). Brody and the guy who plays the teenage character Jimmy (remniscent of Henry from Crane's The Red Badge of Courage) were the only good actors. Basically, there was too much packed into the film. Jackson tried to make it another epic. There were some great moments, true, but they were few and far between annoyances like unrealistic and dragged out action scenes. Kudos to James Newton Howard for the score, though (especially given what he had to work with).

But Just Like Heaven is a great film. That's the first chick-flick I've ever "Aww"ed during a romantic moment...okay, maybe I did it during Pride and Prejudice but not really. That was more of an "Ohhh" moment. (...Girls know what I'm talking about, okay?!) There was a really good "Aww" moment during Just Like Heaven. Mark Ruffalo and Reese Witherspoon make a great couple. And Jon Heder (famous as Napolean Dynamite) was good. I loved his character.

Okay, shutting up about movies. One of my true heros right now is Jeff Smith. He's so friendly. I love his guts. Him and Corey Mann and Josh Workman. Awesome people. I love being surrounded by awesome people. Oh, and Steven Stucki. Gosh, he gave a great testimony in seminary the other day. Stucki is such a great kid. Love that kid. And Eric Sackett and Jacob Swain, and McKenna, Chelsea, Abe, Erica, Megan, Emily Hill, Kristen, Elisa, Justin, Paul...wow. I have a lot of friends.

Ben's been having issues lately. So has Preston, Lindsey, and everyone close to me. I wish I could help them. I'm just not enough, though. Still I will fight on.

Advent Children

2006-03-27T08:29:00.000-08:00

Another season over. Yes, I decided that March was actually a season. It was more of a prelude to the next season than anything else, though.

I dub the prelude "Advent Children" because for the first time it really dawned on me that I might not actually make it. As in, for the first time I started to understand what my odds are of beating this thing. The darkness I have. The "problem".

If we look at closet-case gays in the LDS church today and drug addicts and alchoholics, then we see that most of them resort to either embracing the sinful life, or committing suicide. The odds are simply against one of these people living in the Church.

My friends, I realize, are all taking their different courses in life. For them, the story of high school is just about to end. Perhaps the story is about to end for me too. But maybe I don't want to say goodbye just yet.

I don't know what's gonna happen this month. But given my knowlege, I know now what is at stake more than ever before, and I am scared. I am afraid that I will never make it.

Why...why, Marcus, why do you insist?

Because I choose to.

"Everything is coming back to me, the true..."

The Butterfly Effect

2006-03-19T00:36:00.000-08:00

Long time no see...

February. It's been a long month. Main points...all the major events are hard to remember.

My first mistake is being involved in so much stuff. I'm on the Orem High Ballroom Team, I'm in the play "Seven Brides For Seven Brothers", and I'm on the Orem High lacrosse team. Not to mention I have a platter full of all these little side business ventures, so to speak.

All these internal changes have been taking place, but mostly physical adaptations and changes and adjustments, summing up into one grand paradigm shift. My "outside" is permanently changed. But...not my heart. Not yet.

As I look over my soundtrack to this last season, all sorts of memories come to me. The grueling hours spent on the lacrosse field. The nights spent working on some homework assignment. Performing at school. Ignoring Ben. Finding out about Alex. Telling Cameron about the darkness. The search for passion. Feelings come. The snowfall inside. The dark shell I become when I allow myself to be taken and seduced by evil. The taste in my mouth, in my throat, the emptiness in my stomach, in my soul, in my mind, in my soul. The coldness. The darkness. The smell. The touch. The feel. It all comes.

When I remember back far, far
The future was shining endlessly
Below the pretty blue sky
We were only a little bit frightened

The window was bathed in a nostalgic colour

If I keep on looking forward
Will I meet you again?
The future continues anywhere
Underneath a large sign
I want to watch time change

Towards the people, the places
I will never see again
I open this window

When I remember back far, far
The future was shining endlessly
Below the pretty blue sky
We slept endlessly

The person I liked long ago
Is to have a child in winter
Our promises from long ago
Sometimes I want to doubt them
I could never forget
I wonder if your New Year's card will have a photo
All the things we were unable to do
I look back on with nostalgia

My fears
My lies

Below the blue sky

May the butterfly effect now alter the heart.

Azora no shita...

Hitoshirezu...

My heart's a battleground...

We will rebuild this from the heart.

Daily Things

2006-02-13T17:49:00.000-08:00

Hey, people! Life has been pretty chaotic lately, but pretty cool, too. Being an artist is hard work, I decided. I wonder if I'm Bohemian.

No Day But Today

2006-01-13T12:26:00.000-08:00

*Quotes from song "Finale B", from the musical Rent.

From now on, from this day forward, I will refuse to continue to live my life in fear of the darkness.
From now on, I will fight it to the death. This time...I will fight.

"There's only us, there's only this..."

I want to live a life without regrets.

"...Forget regret, or life is yours to miss..."

The time has come for me to stand up, take charge, and take control of my life.
Make the right choices.

"No other road, no other way...no day but today..."

Do your part to save the scene, and stop going to shows.
Serve my family with all my heart.
My ohana.

I can't control
[Will I lose my dignity?]
My destiny
[Will someone care?]
I trust my soul
[Will I wake tomorrow]
My only goal
[From this]
Is just to be
[Nightmare?]

A new day has come.

[Without You]
There's only now, there's only here
[The hand gropes, the ear hears]
Give in to love or live in fear
[The pulse beats, life goes on]
No other road, no other way
[But I'm gone, 'cause I die without you]
No day but today...
No day but today...
['Cause I die without you,
I die without you...]
No day but today.

Get busy living or get busy dying.

Fill Your Heart With Love

2005-12-25T20:00:00.000-08:00

Go watch "The Grinch", people. Great movie. The best movie about Christmas ever made.

Then go to the Bonus Features and watch the Faith Hill music video. It's cool to see how Faith Hill acts like the Grinch's conscience or guardian angel throughout the video. Interesting...

I feel you, Christmas
I know I found you
You never fade away.

They joy of Christmas stays here inside us
Fills each and every heart with love...

Where are you Christmas?
Fill your heart with love...

--Faith Hill, "Where Are You, Christmas?" from "The Grinch"

Christmas, I Think I Found You

2005-12-23T21:42:00.000-08:00

End Chorus from The Grinch:

Where are you, Christmas?
I think I found you
This time, I'll make you stay.

We'll all be singing
Bells will be ringing
Now and forever
[On] Christmas Day.

Are You Always with Me?

2005-12-17T18:05:00.001-08:00

The band is supposedly Christan. Insteresting. Amaya would love this song, I think.

"Never Alone--BarlowGirl

I waited for you today, but you didn't show
I needed you today, so where did you go?
You told me to call, said you'd be there
And though I haven't seen you, are you still there?

I cry out with no reply
And I can feel you by my side
So I'll hold tight to what I know
You're here, and I'm never alone.

And though I cannot see you,
And I can't explain why
Such a deep, deep reassurance
You've placed in my life.
We cannot separate
'Cause you're part of me
And though you're invisible
I'll trust the unseen.

I cry out with no reply
And I can feel you by my side
So I'll hold tight to what I know
You're here, and I'm never alone.

This Is My December

2005-12-14T08:51:00.000-08:00

Two Linkin Park posts in one day. Hey, Amicus should appreciate it...

"My December"--Linkin Park, from Reanimation, 2003

This is my December, this is my time of the year
This is my December, this is all so clear.

This is my December, this is my snow covered home
This is my December, this is me alone.

And I
Just wish that I didnt feel
Like there was something I missed
And I take back all the things I said
To make you feel like this
And I just wish that i didnt feel
Like there was something I missed
And I take back all the things I said to you.

And I'd give it all away just to have somewhere to go to.
Give it all away to have someone to come home to.

This is my December, these are my snow covered dreams
This is me pretending, this is all I need.

Will take requests for an MP3.

You're All That I've Got

2005-12-14T08:28:00.000-08:00

This song has never really had as much meaning to me as it does now. There are parts to underline or put in bold...but now the entire song is in bold. I'll bet that only Amaya knows who I am talking to, but Amicus can take a guess. This means the world to me.

If you want a really awesome remix, tell me and I'll send you the MP3.

"Faint"--Linkin Park, from Meteora, 2003

I am a little bit of loneliness, a little bit of disregard
Handful of complaints, but I can't help the fact
That everybody can see these scars
I am what I want you to want, what I want you to feel
But it's like no matter what I do, I can't convince you
To just believe this is real
So I let go, watching you turn your back like you always do
Face away and pretend that I'm not
But I'll be here, cause you're all that I've got.

I can't feel the way I did before
Don't turn your back on me
I won't be ignored
Time won't heal this damage anymore
Don't turn your back on me
I won't be ignored

I am a little bit insecure, a little unconfident
'Cause you don't understand, I do what I can
But sometimes I don't make sense
I am what you never wanna say, but I've never had the doubt
It's like no matter what I do, I can't convince you
For once just to hear me out
So I let go, watching you turn your back like you always do
Face away and pretend that I'm not,
But I'll be here cause you're all that I've got.

No...
Hear me out now
You're gonna listen to me, like it or not
Right now...

I can't feel...
...Time won't heal...

Prove You're Something Like Human

2005-12-13T11:56:00.000-08:00

Where are you, Christmas? Why can't I find you?
Why have you gone away?
Where is the laughter you used to bring me?
Why can't I hear music play?
My world is changing, I'm rearranging
Does that mean Christmas changes too?

I wonder what we are all waiting for. Our futures are trying to beat the door down, and here we are doing the best we can to ignore the knocking. But someday the door will come crashing down. And we know it. What are we gonna do when that happens?

Will we forget how to say goodbye?

This world is slowly turning upside down. What are you holding on to? Do you even realize that it's turning? Do you care?

The greatest of teachers won't hesitate
To leave you there, by yourself, chained to fate

I alone love you, I alone tempt you
I alone love you...fear is not the end of this...

What happened to innocence and all that stuff? What happened to childhood? What happened to those fairy tales?

What happened to us? We used to be so perfect. Now we're lost and lonely.

Where are you, Christmas?
Do you remember the one you used to know?
I'm not the same one
See what the time's done
Is that why you have let me go?

Finding Christmas

2005-12-06T17:32:00.000-08:00

This year for December, let the theme be about the real Christmas. What does it mean to you? Find out. This is an actual search—a treasure hunt, so to speak—and the treasure is different for each seeker. The journey must be done alone, and it must be done by the twenty-fifth. You are not obligated to find something, but if you do you can share it if you want.

Here’s a little thing to get us started on thinking about the actual meaning behind this holiday season, and what it means to us individually. Think carefully over the words and see how they apply to you.

“Christmas, Why Can’t I Find You?” –Taylor Momsen (Cindy Lou Who),
from Dr. Seuss’ How the Grinch Stole Christmas

Where are you, Christmas? Why can’t I find you?
Why have you gone away?
Where is the laughter you used to bring me?
Why can’t I hear the music play?
My world is changing, I’m rearranging
Does that mean Christmas changes, too?

Where are you, Christmas?
Do you remember the one you used to know?
You and I were so carefree,
Now nothing’s easy
Did Christmas change, or just me?

Good luck.

The Scientist

2005-12-01T22:02:00.000-08:00

Hey guys! So I’m doing okay.

There’s a whole story about things that have happened to me over the last twenty-four hours. The more spiritual part I’ll record in The Rainmaker Confessions, so you can go there. But here I’ll talk about what happened to me today. Sidenote: I have been sick, and I had not eaten since around six o’clock on Monday (technically Sunday, because I barely ate anything on Monday. I think I lost a ton of weight.)

In my first period I was being an idiot and ignoring Ben (Harry), and then just to be stupid when he left the room I asked this girl named Kira how come he was “mad at me”, which was a totally prideful bold-faced stupid lie and a dumb thing to say. (Wow…run-on sentence.) I warned her not to tell him that I asked. Well, after class I was walking down the hall and I heard Ben call out: “Hey you! You in the red!! Come here.” I thought he was frustrated that I was talking to Julie, a girl he’s having issues with. It turned out that Kira had not listened to me and told Ben that I thought he was mad at me.

Ben gave me a total face-off right there in the middle of the hallway. I was scared almost for my life. I’ve never even known he could be so cold and angry. It ended in him stomping off, leaving me alone in the hall. He walked up to Kira, who had just been passing by, and he said, “I just left Marcus, and now I’m afraid that I destroyed our friendship.” Depressed and regretful, he disappeared into the crowd.

It took me some time to get over my initial shock. Kira and Matt Call tried to talk to me but I refused to open. It seemed like everything was going completely to hell. I didn’t feel like I got my prayers answered last night, and I was going to have a very heart-to-heart prayer/devotional this morning, but my alarm didn’t ring. And my body was feeling worse than usual, stomach and throat wise—and when I say stomach, I don’t mean hungry; that was affecting my body in different ways via extreme lack of coordination, hallucination, trouble sitting down, trouble standing up, etc.

Eventually I ditched my second period and went looking for him. When I found him, I just asked if we could talk. He started acting like everything was all right, and took me around back to outside the school.

There I broke down in front of him and had the most honest face-to-face talk I’ve had with anyone. (Well, I did share my “cloud” with him once, but that doesn’t count.) It was a very final situation; each word of our conversation either pointed to the end of our friendship or a stronger one.

It turned into the latter. Ben took me to get a drink (first one in three or four days) and bought some Goldfish to share with me. We ditched our homeroom advisory period and just hung out. When it was time for his college class, he asked me to come to where he eats lunch, and he would buy me some food for lunch. I thanked him for his friendship and love, and we parted.

I was so happy when I walked into third period. It seemed like that was exactly what I needed.

So I just wanna say that I’m so thankful for my friends and for my God, and that I’m gonna try and be a different person from now on.

Where Angels Fall

2005-11-30T07:13:00.000-08:00

At the end of every season, I give it a theme or a title or a name. I know that probably sounds really weird, but hey--I don't care.

The fall of 2005 I have dubbed "Where Angels Fall".

It's really hard to explain how I feel about that title. It just seemed to fit exactly. Thinking about how this fall was the Last Crucible I'll have in high school.

Thinking about the stuff miss terri and mavis said. Thinking of how all my friends...we are all right here, right now...and why aren't we doing something with this time that is left...and why we are here together. And what that means. And what it all means. And why I haven't told anyone about...it. And what on earth am I waiting for now? And why have we fallen down here where hell and the powers of darkness run rampant. And how we are gonna stick together. And what is gonna happen with my relationship to my God. And how will I get fixed, or if I'll ever get fixed. If everyone will know just how far I fell, and if judgement will run rampant. And what's gonna happen to Oliver? Will he get into that carriage with Olaf? What will happen to my heart. Will I lose myself? Where's that moment that I lose myself? Have I lost my heart already? Has Ansem won?

What is the truth, now?

So What Does It All Mean?

2005-11-29T12:06:00.000-08:00

MORPHEUS: I imagine that right now, you're feeling a bit like Alice, hmm? Tumbling down the rabbit hole?

NEO: ...You could say that.

Yeah I know, third post in one day, making five total. Actually, techincally this is my seventh post.

I'm so, so, SO confused. I've got no idea which way is up or down. Literally.

I mean, I just don't know anything anymore. I mean that honestly. Save my name and the names of my friends and some of my favorite things, and that I go to Orem High, and my house address, I have no memory or concept of my whole life. I mean, it feels like it's been a whole year since my summer 2005.

Which way is up? Which way is down? Am I real? Am I alive? Am I damned?

Why can't I find what I am supposed to find? Am I supposed to find anything? Am I stuck in hell? Am I just permanent this way, a little darkling? Demon of the Dark? Am I supposed to think that? What? What?

What is the meaning of Life? The Universe? Everything? ANYthing?

Is any of this for real? Or not?

I Am Bleeding and Falling Apart

2005-11-29T11:51:00.000-08:00

I don't know how to describe the way I feel right now.

Perhaps it's like that teenager in the "I'm Still Here" music video, from Treasure Planet. Just watching as the world starts turning a different color and his parents start fighting and the rain starts pouring and then stops, and then that spider thing is chasing him, then he's running for Treasure Planet but it's so far away, then the sky turns to blood and meteors start flying everywhere and his home explodes, and suddenly everywhere he runs the walls fall down and collapse and everything starts to collapse, and it's the end. And he's helpless.

Or maybe it's like I'm with Farimir and Eowyn in Return of the King. Just standing on the balcony, looking ahead as the future of my whole planet starts to crash down and erupt into flame with eternal fires of Mordor across the mountainous horizon. In completely breathless silence, I stand there just staring at it. Wondering how it's gonna end.

Except...there's no one holding my hand.

Better Angels of Our Nature

2005-11-29T11:37:00.000-08:00

I just wish that I had an absolute, sure knowledge that He really could.

"Rescue Me"--Greg Simpson, from "Unspoken"

My mind is swimming in an ocean of broken dreams
Sounds that surround me are like echoes of a million screams
Waves wrap around, pull me down
Till I'm up to my neck
Reaper might be knockin' on my door...but I'm not gone yet...

I still live, I still breath, I still wanna believe
Someone's gonna rescue me
Half dead, half alive, half a chance to survive,
But someone's gotta rescue me.

Well, I could drown in anything if I worry enough
I might be floatin' on my back...but I'm still lookin' up...

I still live, I still breath, I still wanna believe
Someone's gonna rescue me
Half dead, half alive, half a chance to survive,
But someone's gotta rescue me.

It Falls on Me

2005-11-28T08:55:00.000-08:00

So I'm really bug-eyed right now, because I had a late night with Genesis and Exodus and I went to bed at 4:30 am. I'm trying to read the Bible equivalent of the Torah.

Yeah, for those who don't know, then I tackle some bits from the Pali Canon, which is a Buddhist text. Then I will read the Four Gospels, then the Qur'an (or however you spell it that way, since "Koran" is wrong apparently), then the Book of Mormon. And all before Thursday. And I don't plan on getting too much sleep. And I'm going on a religious fast, in accordance with an LDS seminary challenge to get an experience from God that money cannot buy.

I'm looking for some healin'. I just want God to tell me if He's going to fix me or if I'm not worth saving anymore. And I'm okay if it's the latter, I guess.

So I had my second jamming session with my band over the Thanksgiving break. We've been going over "Best of You" (Foo Fighters) and a song I wrote called "Victor Hugo", which may be posted on A Poet in Wicker Park at some point. We are supposed to play four songs: those two, a mix of the Colplay piano and the Wicker Park soundtrack acoustic guitar of "The Scientist", which I must say is a rather nice blend. Then one more original. I submitted to them "In Your Honor" (found on A Poet in Wicker Park) and they really liked it. I'm glad they liked it, because I was afraid that all my stuff is really stupid to them.

I was at a family reunion (with people that aren't really related to me) and there was this turkey shoot with prizes. And there it was, the perfect Christmas gift for my best friend, Ben: a Mr. Potato Head Darth Tater. To say that Ben is a major Star Wars geek would be a HUGE understatement. Personally, I don't take too much stock in anything from George Lucas unless it's Indiana Jones. But hey, he's my best friend. So I arrange with my brother through painstaking strategy to win the Darth Tater and we finally secure it, after a stressful, long combat which involved good and evil and a lot of rubber bands.

Anyways, I was at Ben's house on Saturday, with Eric my childhood friend and I had set it up with my other friend Trevor who was there to ask Ben about a Darth Tater, because the gift fits him so perfectly that I wondered if he already had one. Apparently he's so far down the Star Wars road that he thought a Darth Tater disgraced the sacred figure of Darth Vader. So I felt kinda down that after all that trouble he wouldn't like it. Kinda discomforting to know that if I had given it to him, knowing him he would've kept his mouth shut.

Not necessarily because of that incident, but because I'm an idiot, I treated him real bad that night. I remember how he offered Trevor a chance to play with him and Eric on the XBox Star Wars game they were playing. Just playing around I acted offended and said, "Oh sure, don't offer me to play."

He was like, "Well you hate Star Wars, so no. I won't."

And Eric says, "Gosh, Ben, lighten up." Or something like that. And I said rather harshly, "Yeah Ben. Get a grip."

It was a few moments before I heard Ben say quietly, almost to himself, "...Well...it's called a joke, so...you get a grip."

And then later I was in the hallway looking for his brother and I saw this rockin'-sockin' Batman Begins movie poster--the exact one I want where he's just standing there like a statue against a sunset. And I asked Ben where he got it, and he was like, "You went in my room?" I took him a little too seriously and said, "Hey, don't cry about it." Ben's brother started laughing, but he didn't.

I wish I could stop that. I wish I could stop everthing.

Learn to Fly

2005-11-26T12:31:00.000-08:00

"Learn to Fly"—Foo Fighers, from There Is Nothing Left to Lose (2004)

Run and tell all of the angels this could take all night
Think I need a devil to help me get things right
Hook me up a new revolution, cause this one is a lie
We sat around laughing and watched the last one die

I’m looking to the sky to save me, looking for a sign of life
Looking for something help me burn out bright
I’m looking for complications
Looking cause I’m tired of lying
Make my way back home when I learn to fly high

Think I’m done nursing the patience
It can wait one night
I’d give it all away if you give me one last try
We live happily ever trapped if you just save my life
Run and tell the angels that everything's all right.

I’m looking to the sky to save me,
Looking for a sign of life
Looking for something to help me burn out bright
I’m looking for a complication
Looking 'cause I’m tired of trying
Make my way back home and learn to fly high
Make my way back home and learn to fly.

Fly along with me,
I can’t quite make it alone
Try to make this life my own.

"Why, Mr. Anderson?"

2005-11-23T22:05:00.000-08:00

EXT. MATRIX STREET CRATER – NIGHT

The concussive blast craters the street, buckling buildings, as a wave of unequaled destruction rushes over the urban chasm.

The explosion thunders away, until there is only the hissing rain, as the Smiths gather around the crater's edge.

Inside the bowl of earth is the exposed viscera of the metropolis; broken pipes, sparkling cables and rent sewers.

The rain on Neo’s face slowly brings Neo’s consciousness back.

Smith stands over him as he tries to get up.

SMITH: Why, Mr. Anderson?

It is an effort to even pull his arm from the wet sucking mud.

SMITH: Why do you do it? Why get up? Why keep fighting?

Neo rolls over, pushing himself to his hands and knees.

SMITH: Do you believe you’re fighting for something? For something more than your survival? Can you tell me what it is? Do you even know?

Neo glares at him with animal-like eyes.

SMITH: Is it freedom? Or truth? Perhaps peace? Yes? No? Could it be for love? He laughs. Illusions, Mr. Anderson. Vagaries of perception. The temporary constructs of a feeble human intellect, trying desperately to justify an existence that is without meaning or purpose. Neo’s hands clench into fists. And all of them as artificial as the Matrix itself...although, only a human mind could invent something as insipid as love.

Rain streaks the mud down Neo’s face like black tears.

SMITH: You must be able to see it, Mr. Anderson. You must know it by now. You can’t win. It’s pointless to keep fighting.

Neo summons his strength once more, he stands.

SMITH: Why, Mr. Anderson? Why? Why do you persist?!

NEO: ......Because I choose to.

You've Gotta Help Me Out

2005-11-21T19:37:00.000-08:00

"Deep Waters, Dark Shadows"

Man overboard!

Who cares? The ship sails on. The wind is up, the dark ship must keep to its destined course. It passes on.

The man disappears, then reappears, he sinks and rises again to the surface, he hollers, stretches out his hads. They do not hear him...

He hurls cries of dispair into the depths. What a specter is that disappearing sail! He watches it, follows it frantically. It moves away, grows dim, diminishes. He was just there, one of the crew, he walked up and down the deck with the rest, he had his share of air and sunlight, he was a living man. Now, what has become of him? He slipped, he fell, it's all over.

He is in the monstrous deep. There is nothing beneath his feet but the yielding, fleeting element. The waves, torn and scattered by the wind, close around him hideously; the rolling abyss bears him away; tatters of water are flying around his headl a populace of waves spit on him, vague openings half swallow him; each time he sinks he glimpses yawning precipies full of dark; frightful unknown tendrils seize him, bind his feet, and draw him down; he feels he is becoming the great deep; he is part of the foam...the voracious ocean is eager to devour him; the monster plays with his agony. It is all liquid hatred to him.

He tries to defend, to sustain himself; he struggles; he swims. With his poor exhausted strength, he combats the inexhaustible.

Still he struggles on.

...He feels buried by the two infinities together, the ocean and the sky, the one a tomb, the other a shroud.

Night falls; he has been swimming for hours, his strength almost gone; the ship...is gone; he is alone in the terrible gloom of the abyss; he sinks, he strains, he struggles, feels beneath himself invisible shadowy monsters; he screams.

Men are gone. Where is God?

He screams. Help! Someone! Help! He screams over and over.

Nothing on the horizon. Nothing in the sky.

He implores the lofty sky, the endless waves, the reefs; all are deaf. He begs the storms; but impassive, the obey only the infinite.

Around him, darkness, storm, solitude, wild, unconscious tumult, the ceaseless churning of fierce waters. Within hum, horror and exhaustion. Beneath him the devouring abyss. No resting place...The biting cold paralyzes him. His hands cramp shut and grasp at...nothing. Winds, clouds, whirlwinds, blasts, stars, all useless! What can he do? He yields to despair; worn out, he seeks death, no longer resists, gives up, lets go, tumbles into the mournful depths of the abyss forever.

...Ominous disappearance of help! O moral death!

The sea is the inexorable night into which [evil and hell] casts its victims. The sea is measureless misery.

The soul drifting in that see may become a corpse. Who shall restore it to life?

--From Victor Hugo's Les Miserables

---------------------------------------------------------------
P.S. There is no way that A Rush of Blood to the Head is good enough to send everyone but miss terri. (Not that I don't value miss terri's opinion, of course.) So please go take a look at it as well as the other thing I just posted on A Poet in Wicker Park. Also, there is a new post responding to a B&G article by Matt Call on Politik, so please check that out as well and give your opinion.

When I Pretend

2005-11-15T18:32:00.000-08:00

So I'm kinda excited because Mike Shindoa (who is Linkin Park's rapper, for those of you who have not partaken of the wholesome goodness that is Linkin Park) and some other guys started a little sumthin-sumthin, a new band called Fort Minor. They've got some good stuff, with the exception that some stuff swears a bit. But whatever. My favorite song is called "Believe Me", and the lyrics will follow shortly hereafter.

As for a life update, all I can say is getting girls to fall for you needs to be declared an Olympian/Herculean feat. I mean, I don't know how to act around this girl. I have all these things I wanna say around her or do for her or a way to act around her, like I've got these plans...and then the second I see her, it's like she and I are the only people in the world and no one else around us exists, because everything is alive when she's around, and I feel happier when she gives advice because she's so true........sorry, rambling.

Also, I've really got to get down to the boilerplate with my short stories. I want to publish "The Dam at Otter Creek" before my 18th birthday, but I haven't even started writing it. So I've got to get to that, like, right now. Thanks to The Plot Thickens, I have places to go with my characters. So all I have to do is get off my lazy seat and go do it.

By the way, I'm trying out avatars. The current one I'd like to try out is Cloud Strife, as portrayed in the upcoming film Advent Children, which I am really just exploding with impatience for. Please tell me how to upload one because my computer is being a real jerk.

And now for a song about my life right now....

"Believe Me"--Fort Minor, from The Rising Tied, 2005
(Yes, that album title is spelled right.)

I guess
That this is where we've come to
If you don't want to,
Then you don't have to believe me
But I won't be there when you go down
Just so you know now
You're on your own now, believe me.

I don't want to be the one to blame
You like fun and games, keep playing 'em
I'm just sayin' think back then
We was like one and the same
On the right track
But I was on the wrong train
Just like that
Now you've got a face to pain
And the devil's got a fresh new place to play
In your brain, like a maze, you can never escape the rain
Every [darn] day is the same shade of grey.

Hey, I used have a little bit of a plan
Used to have a concept of where I stand
But that concept slipped right out of my hands
Now I don't really even know who I am
Yo, what do I have to say?
Maybe I should do what I have to do to break free
And what ever happens to you, we'll see
But it's not gonna happen with me.

Back then, I thought you were just like me
Somebody who could see all the pain I see
But you proved to me unintentionally
That you would self-destruct eventually
Now I'm thinking like the mistake I made doesn't hurt
But it's not gonna work,
Cause it's really much worse than I thought
I wished you were something that you were not
And now this guilt is really all that I got.

You turned your back
And walked away in shame
All you got is a memory of pain
Nothing makes sense, so you stare at the ground
I hear your voice in my head when no one's around
What do I have to say?
Maybe I should do what I have to do to break free
What ever happens to you, we'll see
But it's not gonna happen to me.

I'll do what I have to do
You're on your own now, believe me
Whatever happens to you,
You're on your own now, believe me
What do I have to say?
You're on your own now, believe me
It's not gonna happen to me
You're on your own now, believe me.

Going Down Swingin'

2005-11-10T11:40:00.000-08:00

I am sure glad I know Bryce Huntbach, or however you spell his last name. Definitly the wisest teenager on the planet. He is such a stud.

Anyhow, life has just been an uphill battle lately. I decided that the reason I don't feel anything is because I have absolutely no motive. I have no cause. I don't know why I keep fighting. I don't have anything to fight for.

If anyone has any suggestions that aren't cliche, I'd love to hear 'em. Because I think that it's really coming down to a fine print, boiler plate this time around. Really, it's one or the other.

Last night I slept on the floor, contemplating my darkness and how I refuse to change. The reason I am refusing to change is because I don't know why I should change. I realized that every single day of my life to memory I have been in bondage and a prisoner of darkness. I have never been free. So I don't know what freedom is. Twice I have felt peace...but not freedom. Just a separate kind of peace. So I have no idea what to do. I don't know why I should fight for freedom when I don't know what that's like. Literally: I cannot imagine what it is like to be free.

Fighting for peace doesn't seem to work because it just doesn't seem to be the right thing to fight for. Fighting for family isn't a motive because I don't care enough. Fighting for friends never lasts long. Fighting for love doesn't count anymore because I've got no chance with the girl I like, and I don't have much to love. Fighting for God doesn't work because I am too against Him to say that I'm on His side. Fighting for Christ doesn't work because I don't believe Him.

So what am I fighting for, anyway?

"I Got Soul But I'm Not A Soldier"

2005-11-07T15:50:00.000-08:00

Everything seems to be going a lot better. I was having such a terrible morning, but it got better when I went to seminary. I was contemplating ditching seminary today and sneaking into the computer lab to do my AP Literature homework. But I am so glad that I went to seminary anyway. The girls had an awesome presentation for the boys.

I was very touched that they were willing to give something to me even though I am not a part of the class. Thanks so much for my dog tag!

While in class, I recieved some inspiration about what courage really is. Now I have the will to go on and try fighting...yet again.

My heart is burdened because of all these things that I've done.

This song means a lot to me. I wanna be fixed, but I'm afraid that I won't stay fixed. But I might as well keep fighting. After all, if I'm gonna win my own red badge of courage then I've gotta have courage. And courage is not about how many times you win the war.

It's the number of times that you get up when you fall down.

"All These Things That I've Done"
--The Killers, from Hot Fuss

When there's nowhere else to run
Is there room for one more son?
One more son?
If you can hold on
If you can hold on,
Hold on.

I wanna stand up, I wanna let go
You know, you know - no you don't, you don't
I wanna shine on in the hearts of men
I want a meaning from the back of my broken hand
Another head aches, another heart breaks
I'm so much older than I can take
And my affection, well it comes and goes
I need direction to perfection, no no no no

Help me out, yeah
You know you got to help me out, yeah
Oh, don't you put me on the backburner
You know you got to help me out, yeah

And when there's nowhere else to run
Is there room for one more son
These changes ain't changing me
The gold-hearted boy I used to be

You gotta help me out, yeah
You know you got to help me out, yeah
Oh, don't you put me on the backburner
You know you got to help me out, yeah
You gonna bring yourself down, yeah
You gonna bring yourself down, yeah
You gonna bring yourself down...

I got soul, but I'm not a soldier
I got soul, but I'm not a soldier...

[Time, truth and hearts]

Over and in, last call for sin
While everyone's lost, the battle is won
With all these things that I've done
All these things that I've done
[Time, truth and hearts]
If you can hold on.

P.S. For your reading pleasure, I have posted my most recent homework assignment from my Creative Writing class on A Poet in Wicker Park. We were supposed to write something inspired by the word "veteran". While I have never personally known veterans of a war, I have known veterans of a love or friendship. So my will-probably-be-heavily-revised song "Red Bullets of Courage" is the result.

The Murderer

2005-10-19T19:17:00.000-07:00

Today Bryce Huntbach came up to me and said, "Marcus, last night I was up for an hour trying to compose your song."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah! It's so hard. I mean, now I have your copy to go off of, but it gets too powerful in the middle. I feel like killing myself."

I stuttered. "Um...gosh, I'm sorry..."

"No, no! That's because it's so good," he explained. "Your thing is good enough to take me there to where I need to be. It's just hard to recreate that feeling with music. But I'm working on it, and I'll show you when it's done."

There is now a new post on "A Poet in Wicker Park", which features the now infamous piece entitled "Faces". Amaya is the only one who knows the story behind "Faces", so here I go on a rather dreary explanation.

For my Creative Writing class, we were supposed to write something about us without using direct references to actual traits; we could only describe ourselves through actions instead of "I am..."s. I put this off until the night before it was due, and I ended up having a rather depressing epiphany about myself. It was sad, but it's true. And because you have to know me VERY well (which no one does, not even Harry or Amaya), the symbolism behind the whole thing is extremely deep and metaphorical, referencing motifs and themes one will only recognize from darkness. Basically, it's just saying how my bad decisions will affect my future family in a very dramatic way. (And in a way, Amicus, this is how I am a murderer.)

Anyway, a week later the student teacher decided to offer extra credit to anyone who chose to read their assignment out loud in front of the class. I had forgotten all about the assignment, and I had just flunked a quiz, so I desperatly needed the extra points. However, as person after person got up and shared theirs, I was shocked. Everyone had something that was along the lines of a cheerful resume, like a nice trumpeting about one's self. Mine was a fictional story, and what was more is that it was extremly dark in comparision. Like, I'm talking day and...well, a night on Pluto.

These "resume"-type essays were all incredible (Marcie Glad's was very remniscent of that one college spoof essay that over-exaggerates feats, goes something like "I woo women with my godlike tombone playing..." if you've never read that, it's awesome and funny, and so was Marcie's, her's went "I've written an award-winning song and I sang it on the streets of NYC and got money, I got kicked out of the White House by the Secret Service..." I loved it).

I got more and more ashamed of the piece of emotional vomit in front of me, but I felt like since my grade was one the line, I had no choice. I waited until towards the end of the period, when the teacher called out for the last time, "Anyone else?" With embarrassment I got up in front of the class. I tried to warn them how mine was very different and how it was definitly a PG-13 rating; violent and mature. I then proceeded to read my essay.

As I got closer and closer to the end, I realized how stupid "Faces" was, and how depressing I was making everyone. It was as if I had turned off the lights. There was a tangible dark cloud in the air, and I was responsible. I also realized that whenever I paused for breath or to think about the depressing feeling or how awkward this all sounded, it seemed to be a pause for effect, the most dramatic pause being when I got to the last two sentences. I finished and sat down.

There was an odd applause, like the kind when people don't really want to clap. The student teacher said, "Yes, very dramatic, I liked...[da-dum, da-dum]...now who else would like to share what they enjoyed?" I didn't think I'd get very positive feedback.

But suddenly hand after hand went up, and everyone was like, "I am so moved..." I was so embarressed and shocked; this wasn't what I was expecting, especially about something I wrote. One person noted "It started out kinda depressing, then it got real deep and you could definitly tell everyone was touched because there were people looking down, and it was definitly uncomfortable, and then the ending was just..." Another said, "I don't know Marcus very well, but I could tell just from that how much he cares about his future, and it was just incredible." A girl who reportedly has a crush on me (again) said, "I am rarely moved by a piece of writing. But....wow." Just a ton of comments like that.

It ended with my main teacher saying how she almost didn't want to clap because it was so good and so powerful, like applauding at the end of a powerful symphony. After class, Bryce Huntbach--the man, the myth, the legend--humbled me by requesting a copy of "Faces" to write into a ballad. He was writing a concept album, and he wanted five pieces from people in the class. He had something from Becca Peachen, and now he wanted my piece to write a song. It was like Jack Johnson asking me to do it.

So...there you go. Sidenote: "Faces" seems to be more powerful when read out loud (even though I simly attribute it's effects to the light-switch syndrome, that and how I'm not known that well by my classmates). But it's a text post instead of an audioblog anyway.

Don't Panic

2005-09-22T15:20:00.000-07:00

So, we all know about the horrible, natural disasters that have been happening lately. Hurricanes in the East Coast, an earthquake in Iran, raging storms and fires…it’s a nightmare.

Just think: for all those refugees from Hurricane Katrina in Huston (the fourth largest city in the U.S.), now they must flee from the city again. People have to start all over…all over. Some people have to file for bankruptcy—the terror of that is enough to chill some blood. But imagine what it’s like to try and file for bankruptcy when you don’t even know if there’s something salvageable in your house.

By the way, it’s an obligation for me to point out that since I was in elementary school I’ve been told by various teachers how the Wasatch Fault (fault lines that sandwich my hometown, Orem) is way overdue for a major earthquake. In February this year, we experienced 20 minor earthquakes. BYU professor Ron Harris, who chronicled the tsunami earthquake, says that between the next fifty to a hundred years, the state is due for earthquake with a magnitude of at least 7.0 (the tsunami earthquake was a 9.0). According to Harris, Utah residents are simply not ready for such an earthquake; highway overpasses would collapse like I-15, hundreds of water pipes such as the one that runs in the canyon next to Orem would burst…and thousands of people would die.

Deseret News painted the following scenario. Imagine that one morning you wake up to this:
A magnitude 7.5 earthquake, centered directly below downtown, hit Salt Lake City this morning shortly before dawn. Residents are sifting through thousands of older homes, which were not retrofitted to earthquake code, looking for survivors. The University of Utah's Marriott Library collapsed, trapping an estimated half dozen maintenance workers.
In Provo, 50 miles away from the quake's epicenter, thousands of BYU students living in off-campus apartments were killed while they slept. Many of the apartment buildings, built more than 30 years ago, collapsed because they were not upgraded to meet the state's seismic building codes.
Visibility is low along the Wasatch Front as smoke from fires caused by ruptured gas and electrical lines clouds the skies. Power lines are also down. The state's main thoroughfare, Interstate 15, is impassable from south of Provo to the Idaho border as many of the roadway's bridges and overpasses have collapsed.
The outlying communities of Ogden and the Cache Valley have sustained significant damage.

And not to mention that volcanic earthquake due at Yellowstone. Have you guys heard about that one? Apparently it’s not due for a while (try about a thousand years), so don't stress. But there’s a sleeping supervolcano underneath the park. A supervolcano is, like, Mount St. Helens times a hundred. The way the faults work at Yellowstone, there’s supposed to be a huge earthquake that causes the supervolcano to erupt. I can’t paint a bad enough picture for this. Imagine the aftermath of Chernobyl all over the U.S., and half of the world. The environment would be permanently altered. To name just one terrible effect, the surrounding states (including Utah) would get covered in a five to ten foot blanket of ash, like poisoned snow. And it wouldn’t stop snowing this ash for weeks. Possibly months. Worse: this has happened before at Yellowstone, millions of years ago. In fact, it might have been what caused the Ice Age.

Well...it's all kinda depressing for me. But hey—if you wanna hear why you shouldn't panic just yet, go read my latest "Confessions".

"Don't Panic"—Coldplay, "Parachutes" (2000)

Bones sinking like stones,
All that we fought for
Homes, places we've grown,
All of us are done for.

We live in a beautiful world
Yeah we do, yeah we do
We live in a beautiful world.

Oh, all that I know,
There's nothing here to run from.
'Cause yeah, everybody here's got somebody to lean on.

I Found the Dam at Otter Creek

2005-09-14T15:06:00.000-07:00

So you guys wanted to know about my metaphor, so I guess that to be brief I basically discovered through a glorious epiphany that struck in physics...what the dam at Otter Creek is. That is to say, I know why there is a dam at Otter Creek. So I'm happy about that--it actually gave me insight into a problem I'm having with Harry right now. Incidentally, this insight has not changed my behavior towards him. I guess I'm stubborn, eh?

You know, in that interview (which I'll probably reference often, so for future clarification I'm gonna call it "that interview" or maybe at a future date it'll be the Bible, or the Wisdom of Peas), Pullman, Paolini and Pierce (see the P's?) say how writers are often in the middle of their story before they realize the themes and symbols and metaphpors in the story. Then they can go to the beginning and start saturizing the story with it. I believe it's Pierce who defines it as digging and digging for really nothind and something at the same time and then you find a T-Rex.

But me, I don't work like that. Some people can write the whole story and then find the T-Rex, but I can't do even that. I've gotta start out with the theme and the meaning behind everything, or else I don't feel any motivation to tell the story because I've got no clue what it's trying to say. And if I don't know what it's trying to say, it feels like what I have to say is worthless. Can anyone relate?

P.S. Dunno about "Wicker Poet", but the "Confessions" are up and running again.

So Long, Astoria

2005-08-29T17:35:00.000-07:00

After such a long time of no posts, here we are!

School started a week ago, but for me I won't be in school mode until this Thursday. And my two weeks off of work is over this week too.

Until I'm fully out of that mode, I'm gonna bask in the memories of this last summer.

I got employed. For the first time saw the aftermath of two girls' hearts I broke. I got the cops called on me. I had my first real encounter with death. I developed a lifelong friendship from hundreds of miles away. I helped a homeless man. I started working out and weight-lifting. I had a personal experience (finally) with the Mormon pioneers. I learned a lot about how to treat girls and I've achieved some very good tips as far as dating goes. So my social life stepped up a notch or two. I started writing songs and music. I sunburned. I shook hands with a miracle. I wake-skated. I learned how to stand up for one's convictions when no one else would. I started liking rap, country, Spanish pop music and (*gasp*) Final Fantasy VII. And best of all, I learned how to be a friend.

Suicide was contemplated again.I fell back into the darkness I've tried my whole life to escape and will continue to run from. I finally realized once and for all what my destiny is, what choice I must make, and what sacrifice I must make. I awakened some sleeping premortal memories and learned what I must do to awaken more. And for the fifth time, I moved out of Babylon.

This was the last summer. I will never again truly have a summer vacation. But this last summer was the one I learned the most and gained the most from. And I found out what to do with my future and what I must do and can do with the rest of my life. I found out how to find the best kind of treasure. And I have all these stories and memories I'll always cherish dearest to my heart.

And so I say goodbye one last time to my ever-fading childhood and teenage years. It would seem that I have been unsucessful in escaping the inevitable...

I'm grown up.

So long, Astoria
I found a map to buried treasure
Even if we come home empty-handed,
We'll still have our stories
Of battle scars, pirate ships, and wounded hearts
Broken bones, and all the best of friendships.

And when this hourglass has filtered out
Its final grain of sand,
I'll raise my glass to the memories we had.

This is my wish, [and I'm taking 'em back]
I'm taking 'em all back.

Rest and Recovery

2005-08-11T00:15:00.000-07:00

I guess I'm doing better now, so let's get the following out of the way:

1. I'm not depressed anymore, nor to I have plans anymore to kill myself. Do not ask how I am doing, do not ask anything relating to my mood, how I am doing, etc.

2. I don't want any comments or referrals in any form that relate to the post "And the Hero Will Drown." None whatsoever.

3. I will be making a drastic choice very soon, and it's possible that when school starts I will not be the same person you knew before. And that's all I shall discuss about it at this time, no questions asked.

[It's made fairly obvious that anything concerning the posts "And the Hero Will Drown" on my blogs is pretty mysterious. I'd like to keep it that way, thank you. Can't talk about it, can't talk about why. Case closed.]

Now that's over with; on to other things. I highly recommend my friend Oliver Wolfgang's blog at volunteerfordisaster.blogspot.com, "The Final Destination". Loaded with Snicketisms, his blog is basically a (fictional?) spin-off of A Series of Unfortunate Events. (And if you cannot fathom why those books would deserve a fanfiction spin-off, then you have clearly not read them and are missing out!) His "About Me" cracks me up, by the way. Note to Amaya: still want his email?

Also, I have a new blog, "Politik". Yah! This one will concern at least some things I will be busy with this school year. The blog is at givemeloveoverthis.blogspot.com. Please check this blog, as often as you can. It would be a great help to me and I need to spread the word.

In addition to "Politik", I also would like to draw attention to my "Kingdom Hearts" blog, which has been gathering dust since May. If you wish to visit kingdomheartsnovel.blogspot.com, I invite you to grab some chocolate, sit down, and read what was the beginnings of a video game novelization. (Warning: if you hate Final Fantasy and anything Disney such as Mickey Mouse, Donald Duck or Goofy, then don't read it. I follow the game exactly.)

Let's see...anything else? On a happier note, my boss Ian Story was rather interesting at work last night. He wasn't intimidating or ominous, as he usually is. He asks me (for the first time in my two months of getting hired; it takes school teachers a couple of class periods) where I come from, and in honor of my newspaper teacher I say, "Um...God..." We chuckle and laugh at that. Before I walked into work, I was praying that he'd leave. But he was so much fun to hang out with that after he had to leave for a catering job in Salt Lake City (which he technically stole) that I was praying he'd come back.

And The Hero Will Drown

2005-08-09T01:16:00.000-07:00

"...This is gonna be a long post, I can tell already..."

Honestly, either it's life or death. Light or dark. Either I will kill this or I will have to find a way to kill myself. Because this cannot go on anymore. I threw it all away.

I don't want this to turn into a depressing blog. I tried to unload on "Confessions" and "Wicker Poet". I needed more. I just...can't...go on...

I'm dying, guys. That's the truth here, the real truth. I'm dying.

And even if I did resurface. Even if God, in pure and total love and grace, saved me again...what then? More broken promises and failures would lie ahead. More darkness. The closer I get, the worse it will get.

So if this weak corruption will admit he can't do anything...wilt thou please have mercy on thy chosen spirits and children here on earth, and simply take the breath from him?

...I'm letting everything down. I am going down.

I don't know. This is what crazy is. Insane crazy. This is what it's like to be in the middle of a tossing sea, knowing that if you go down again, you aren't coming back up. So you want someone to grab your hand again, tell you that you've been overboard time and time again, and will go overboard many more times yet. But that it's okay.

I Alone

2005-08-05T19:45:00.000-07:00

His Intentions Fall To The Floor

2005-08-04T16:10:00.000-07:00

I've really got nothing to say in here other than what's said in the audio. But I will say this: My mom, not to speak ill of her, said that if it was Trevor in the hospital she'd have a better feeling about taking me there.

I just miss Matt so much. (By the way Amaya, I've looked through my long list of unopened emails and found yours; it is likely I knew about his accident before you did anyway.)

I feel so dumb knowing that sooner or later he'll approach me about it, and I'll have to say something stupid to the effect of "I was gonna visit you but I just never could get around to it."

On a kind of lighter note, I found an old friend from an internet forum a little while ago, and today I convinced him to start a blog. I think Preston especially would really enjoy this play on a book series my friend enjoys as much as Preston and I do.

You can check it out at volunteerfordisaster.blogspot.com

"Dodging Glances On The Street"

2005-07-19T16:47:00.000-07:00

Found this archived draft from the 17th of July.

Today I was at work doing my best to get some more tips. I mean, I've only worked at that station twice, but my boss was extremely impressed with me because apparenty he's never seen someone get that many tips in two hours. Especially in Orem, Utah.

Anyway, I was kinda lost in my own world and this booth asked me for more breadsticks. So I was on my way back to the kitchen when I almost ran into someone.

I knew immediatly who the person was: Harry. It felt like I had just jumped off a cliff back at Sand Hollow. I knew what he looked like from the back so well that now that's the only way I recognize him. I turned around immediatly and dodged his glances until he left. I don't think he saw me, unless he turned around as I did.

My legs were shaking for the next five minutes. I was so sickened by my actions. Yesterday, I saw him in church and almost said hello, but kept walking. Moments later I kicked myself because I know he now thinks I'm ignoring him. But my ignoring instincts have had to kick in for so long that now that's my only instinct when I see him.

Funny, because I hadn't seen his face till yesterday. And I didn't recognize him.

"Talk"-Coldplay, from "X&Y"
Oh brother, I can’t get through
I’ve been trying hard to meet you ‘cause I don’t know what to do
Oh brother, I can’t believe it’s true
I’m so scared about the future and I wanna talk to you
Oh I wanna talk to you

You can take a picture of something you see
In the future where will I be?
You can climb a ladder up to the sun
Or a write a song nobody has sung or do
Something that’s never been done

Are you lost or incomplete?
Do you feel like a puzzle, you can’t find your missing piece?
Tell me how do you feel?
Well, I feel like they’re talking in a language I don’t speak
And they’re talking it to me

So you take a picture of something you see
In the future where will I be?
You can climb a ladder up to the sun
Or a write a song nobody has sung or do
Something that’s never been done,
Or do something that’s never been done

So you don’t know where you’re going and you wanna talk?
And you feel like you’re going where you’ve been before?
You tell anyone who’ll listen but you feel ignored?
Nothing’s really making any sense at all? Let’s talk
Let’s talk...let’s talk...let’s talk.

Confessions of a Rainmaker

2005-07-16T23:34:00.000-07:00

For the next while, I'll only be talking about my life via my spiritual blog, "The Rainmaker Confessions". You can visit it by going to rainmakerconfessions.blogspot.com, or by clicking on "The Rainmaker Confessions" in the list of links to your right. I'm doing this because I know that my life is gonna be a lot different when I'm done doing whatever I'm about to do. I'm sick of fighting. I'm sick of leaving behind some small trace of darkness. Now I'm gonna go after it for real. I was reborn by dying last time. Now I have to do it all the way.

Don't worry about me, Amaya.

Sand Hollow

2005-07-15T18:43:00.000-07:00

I decided I was too lazy to type out everything that happened in the last two days, so I just sent it as an audioblog. You can listen to my bewildering rantings below...I realize that half the time in that message I don't know what the heck I'm saying. The reasons for why my mind was flayed alive is mentioned in the recording.

I should add that while I was down there I was engaged in a couple of conversations about deaths that have occured lately. Everyone agrees that a lot of people are passing away. Just about everyone that was with me had a close one pass away in the last month or so. And everyone knew a person or two who'd died recently.

As long as we were talking about that, it was mentioned that two people had died at Sand Hollow in recent weeks. This was nerve-wracking because Sand Hollow State Park just opened this summer. I think it even opened the first week of July, actually.

Chase Jesperson came up. I found out that a lot of people had negative things to say about him. Almost no one liked him, except that he was funny. Also, a week before his accident he was talking about someone he didn't particularily like and said, "I hope he dies in an accident or something."

And in addition I learned exactly how he died. He was on a jet ski and crashed into a friend while making a U-turn or something. I already knew that but I found out that the friend's name was Tawny Christensen. Tawny Christensen has lived in the house behind me for many years.

A New Day Has Begun

2005-07-11T07:08:00.000-07:00

After an entire night of intense fighting and struggle...at least, that's really the only thing you can call it, see "Wicker Poet" for more on that...I'm glad to announce that at least for the next three days, Marcus is back. And if I may add, I kicked some serious kister.

Waiting on the sunrise this morning was awesome. It seemed to just tie in with everything. I was listening to "Hikari (Simple and Clean)", the theme from Kingdom Hearts. In Japanese, apparently hikari means 'light'. Anyway, that's special to me as well as the KH franchise. The thing that I loved most about this morning was how much it was like Riku's ending to Kingdom Hearts: Chain of Memories [Reverse/Rebirth]. You can read about that little diddy in "Confessions".

So I've been having a great morning as of yet. It looks like a beautiful day. I've never been up this early on my own volition all summer. Right now it's 8:15 am, which a day ago I would've considered an unheavenly hour, so this is pretty new. It dawned on me for the first time to put some sugar in the Wheat square thingy's I had for cereal. And I was listening to Jesse McCartney all morning. (I just heard Amaya gasp and fall off her Norwegian chair.) I even danced to "Get Your Shine On" while putting the sugar in my cereal.

I've gotta say that while his lyrics may not all be awe-inspiring, he's got a great voice and good musical talent. It was kinda like a cross between Justin Timberlake, Maroon 5, and this Hispanic hip-hop band my mom listens to. A big thanks to Jesse McCartney (e'en though he'll never read it, guess I'll have to do it in heaven), you got this glorious morning up and going for me!

Breaking the Habit

2005-07-11T00:27:00.000-07:00

I've willingly fallen so many times today. I've gone to extreme evils and unspeakable measures to sate my hunger for darkness. (Read "Confessions" and "Wicker Poet" for more info.)

But not anymore. I'm gonna do something about it tonight. I'm about to do something about this thing I've created, this person I've made--what I've become. The memories are literally consuming me. "Like opening the wound, I'm picking me apart again." My preference for solitude is harmful, but I have to do this alone. Because he only comes when I'm alone. Kinda like those action movies where the hero comes alone. "You all assume I'm safe here in my room unless I try to start again."

Well, "I don't want to be the one the battles always choose", cause inside I know that I'm the one who'll lose. But now I have to fight. I have to get up and use my cure. I don't know what it can do. Because all I have to go on now is a faded chain of memories.

It's time to end this once and for all. I'm gonna destroy one of us and get my memories back. Settle this... "I'll paint it on the walls 'cause I'm the one that falls. I'll never fight again...and this is how it ends..."

And this is how it ends.

I don't know what's worth fighting for,
Or why I had to scream
But now I have some clarity to show you what I mean
I don't know how I got this way,
I'll never be all right
So I'm breaking a habit,
I'm breaking a habit,
I'm breaking a habit tonight.

Reverse/Rebirth

2005-07-10T20:27:00.000-07:00

I just did something terrible that I won't talk about. But it's made me feel so dirty, and I realize how far down I've come in my life.

I mean, it's so awful to be a two-face. To not know who you really are. To constantly be putting up a show for everyone you see, fake 'em all out. Like Linkin Park's "Lying From You":

When I pretend,
Everything is what I want it be,
I looked exactly like what you always wanted to see
When I pretend,
I can forget about the criminal I am
Stealing second after second just cause I know I can, but,
I can’t pretend that this is the way it'll stay, I'm just
[Trying to bend the truth]
I can't pretend I'm who you want me to be...
So I pretended up a person who was fitting in
And now you think this person really is me, and I'm
[Trying to bend the truth]
The more I push, the more I’m pulling away,
Cause I’m
[Lying my way from]

You
[No, no turning back now]
I wanna be pushed aside, so let me go
[No, no turning back now]
Let me take back my life,
I’d rather be all alone
[No turning back now]
Anywhere on my own, cause I can tell
[No, no turning back now]
The very worse part of you
The very worse part of you is me.

I want to get away from that other side of me. That other person that I think I wanna be, but no matter how hard I run he always seem to follow me around. And I can't decide who to be. Me or him. Sometimes I hate him, and sometimes I think he's got everything. But really, he's got nothing. And when I'm him, I'm empty.

I guess the real reason I don't wanna change is because I'm too lazy. I'm too lazy to really make the choice. And I'm too scared. I don't know how I'm ever gonna get back up again. To be reborn, but also to die. So I'm dying and I'm becoming born again all at once. And this time it's gotta happen for light or dark. I either wake to the day or the night. And right now the morning seems too far away for me to ever last that long. I think I lost my chance.

Departures

2005-07-09T15:31:00.000-07:00

My sister told me a couple of days ago that a 16 year-old from Orem had just died while at Lake Powell. Since my friend Trevor Newsom (who I previously called Dan) is at Lake Powell we were concerned that it was him.

I just didn't think it was him. I got this feeling that it wasn't him, but it was someone I knew. I didn't think much of it until today when I was IMing Richard and I thought of asking him. Apparently it was indeed someone I knew. His name is Chase Jesperson. I never really talked to him, but I saw him all the time and he was close friends with my sister as well as a childhood friend of mine. He was in a couple of Richard's classes.

I never knew him for real, but I actually hope that he's okay and that he was all right. His death has really impacted me in ways that I can't talk about here.

I realized that so many people I know seem to be leaving. And that's not just Harry, I'm talking about passing away. Like Owen Cherrington, a man in my neighborhood who got cancer. Also my drama teacher at Orem High, Syd Riggs. I loved her very much. Now this guy who I'm really wishing I knew better named Chase. And also my friend's uncle, Gary, passed away recently.

I asked Richard almost depressed, "Why are so many people leaving?" Then I had to leave to get in the shower, but my sister told me that while I was in the shower Richard answered just before he himself left.

You can read about Richard's response and my thoughts about it on my spiritual blog, "The Rainmaker Confessions", by clicking on the link to the right.

Gifts And Curses

2005-07-08T18:07:00.000-07:00

It's de-ja-vue all over. Last summer, I was stirred and taught by the themes of "Spider-Man 2", which are Choice, Sacrifice, and Destiny. They were great lessons that I was taught, but now I have to go through all of it again. I had to make a very difficult choice, a heavy sacrifice, and found out what my destiny may be.

To be honest I've been doing all that since I was very young. But in recent times, the stakes have never been higher. I have a gift, and I have a curse. My strength is my weakness. My light is my dark.

Thinking of that, I remember the song "Gifts and Curses" by Yellowcard, and I realize that it's also in my case about the girl I like. I want to be for her. I've been working my tail off getting into shape because I want to play lacrosse—since my mom says I need a sport and I figure I have a chance if I'm in a sport to get a girl anyway. (And I'm NOT saying her name, 'cause too many people who read this could know her.) I'll just call her Mary Jane. That puts a smile on Amaya's face, I know. But it's true. She really is my Mary Jane. I want to be her friend and be there for her. But I can't until I make my choice. I want to be good for her. Every time I'm around her I become my true self. There's only one real Marcus that few people see. Mary Jane is one of them. And she brings out the best in me, the light. I wish I could be like that all the time.

Gifts and Curses—Yellowcard
Mary Jane belongs to the words of a song
I try to be strong for her, try not to be wrong for her
But she will not wait for me anymore, anymore
Why did I say all those things before? I was sure

[She is the one]
But I have a purpose,
[She is the one]
And I have to fight this,
[She is the one]
This villian I can't knock down...

Mary Jane's alive in the bright New York sky
The city lights shine for her
Sometimes I cry for her
Everything's small on the ground below, down below
What if I fall? Then where would I go? Would she know?

[She is the one]
All that I wanted,
[She is the one]
And I will be haunted,
[She is the one]
This gift is my curse for now...

I see your face with every punch I take, and every bone I break
—It's all for you
And my worst pains are words I cannot say
Still, I will always fight on for you.

Lost On 8 Mile

2005-07-06T16:11:00.000-07:00

NOTE: References to races in this post are strictly metaphorical.

The film 8 Mile is based in an actual place in Detroit. The area where everything takes place is divided by a street that's become more of a state freeway than an actual road. The street is called Eight Mile Road. There are several roads that run from Nine Mile to Five Mile Road in blocks as you go down this area of Detroit.

The thing that makes 8 Mile Road special is that it is the clearly divisible line between rual suburbs and the upper class residents of downtown Detroit. You can literally be on one side of 8 Mile and be in a nice neighborhood, then cross to the other side of the road and see shambles and ghetto houses. To further make the point, 8 Mile also divides the main races that live downtown. The whites live in the north in the better half and the blacks live south of the road in the worse half. The site once hosted a deadly racial riot.

At this point in my life, I'm lost on that road. The road that divides white from black, so to speak. The line that divides glory and misery. The road that divides good and evil, light and darkness.

I've been on this road before, and it was easy to get off once I figured out how. I've been down 8 Mile so many times, it seems more like home than either side of the road. I know I have dark skin, and a dark heart. But I've lived on the brighter side before, and it was awesome. I think this time around I'm in for more riots than I expected, though. And it just doesn't seem like I'll get away with being a fence sitter again.

This is the place and this is the time where I have to make the choice once and for all: Black or white.

Mama Mia

2005-06-25T15:43:00.000-07:00

If you ever got bored one day and watched the deleted scenes for The Grinch, you know that the scene in the beginning where the Grinch is wandering around in Whoville causing various mayhem is slightly different in the extended version of the scene. It starts off with all the storekeepers and the people in the streets going about their day slowly and calmly.

Then the Grinch mischeiviously taking a marble and rolling it down the street. As it goes it basically brings the Apocalypse to pass as it innocently causes annhilation in it's path and speeds up the commotion of the day, causing overall panic and chaos. As it gets to the other side, the Grinch goes to pick it up and then eyes the camera from behind his bunny mask. "Innocent child's playtoy," he asks, "or weapon of mass destruction? You be the judge."

So what's that got to do with anything? Well, that's the thing I thought of as I remembered how my first two days of work went. My first real job is an employee of the Fazoli's restaurant that's next to the University Mall in Orem. It's an Italian restaurant where Eric works. He recommended that I apply there, so just before we left for Martin's Cove I applied there with Richard. As you know from the previous post, it turns out that Pamela and Harry had also applied there. When we got back Richard and I went to Fazoli's to see how our application process was going. We both got hired—and apparently so did Pamela and Harry—and because Richard would be in Orlando the next week I would start first alone. I was scheduled to work Thursday and Friday of the following week.

My first day actually went really well, a lot better than I thought it would. I thought I would mess up, or everything would be confusing. And it was. But it was a lot of fun. I got to be the breadstick runner, which means that you take a basket of breadsticks around the dining room asking everyone if they'd like some free, piping hot breadsticks. And everyone does, of course (because those darn things are really addictive, which is why most folks go to Fazoli's for the free breadsticks anyway).

And my co-workers were all really nice. My main manager, or rather a guy that's been there for six weeks named Duane kinda took to me as his Padawan. Then there's a cute girl that's 17 named Necia who was the nicest. I'm thinking about asking her out on a date. Another girl named Kendra who's 18 and likes country is a lot of fun. I really love the people that I work with. I was afraid that I'd hate them all and they'd hate me, but it's like an Italian family in that place. I love it. (I just wonder what'll happen when Eric, Pamela, Harry, Richard and I work at the same time or something, which will eventually happen.)

The second day, Friday, was somewhat more stressful. Duane put me on the sandwiches, and you've got to do everything very quickly and it gets confusing because everyone's telling you, "All right I need [blank] with a [blank] on a [blank]" and you're just sitting there like, "I don't even know what [blank] is! Except that the cheddar is here, the turky is there, and the sandwich you're asking me to make ends in -ini!!!" I thought I was doing remotely okay until my manager walked in. Like I said, there's Duane, but he's not really a manager, just in a high spot. There are two real managers at Fazoli's: a guy named Ian who's funny, cool and nice (or so it seemed) and a young girl named Whitney who's also cool and nice. Whitney and I became good friends on Thursday when she spilled to me how her best friend committed suicide that Saturday, and I told her how a good friend of mine, a teacher at Orem High, also died Saturday.

Anyway, Ian was the guy who walked in. Apparently he was having a really stressful day because I go to take a nine-inch pizza out of the oven and he takes over the sandwich bar while I'm away. As I turn around he takes some utensil that I assumed was lying around or sitting in the bar or something and just hucks it at the wall. I freeze at the ticked look he's got on his face. But there's no time to think because we're in the middle of rush hour. I can't remember what I did next, I just remember that I was a lot more intimidated at that point. Then he leaves and I go back to the bar and he goes around cussing at the Hispanic woman Ana and I just keep my eyes on the Panini sandwich I'm trying to make, but then Duane wants me on the pasta bar to cover for him, and then someone needs me to stick some breadsticks in the oven and then grab a four-cheese out of the oven but Necia's wondering if I can do a breadstick run real quick and Ian asks me to stay at my post...

At some point in the sandwich panic hour I was positive I'd get fired. I even put the wrong sauce on the pasta and then I had to throw away a sandwich because it was the wrong kind of bread. I honestly had no idea the sandwiches were so popular. I wanted to scream "Stop ordering Panini's; the cook is getting aggravated out of his brains!" And Kendra was cashier and was wondering how she'd ever manage because she, in her own words, would go bloody bored out of her mind on cashier. So she was talking to me and Necia, and we were all talking and I was afraid every time Duane walked by that he was disappointed I was talking so much. I guess I was okay, because later he asked me to go help him grab the breadstick rack. While we were unloading it he asked me what I did with the wrapping of the rack. I realized I had thrown it away, and I was so embarressed especially after everything I'd done that day.

He said, "Listen, don't worry! If you're making mistakes, then you're learning. You should take that from a old guy like me to a young guy like you."

In an effort to thank him indirectly for his kind words, I jested, "Oh, you're not so old." He chuckled. "How old do you think I am?"

"I dunno, late thirties?"

He smiled. "Nope. I'm sixty-one."

My jaw dropped. "Get out!?" He honestly doesn't look that old. My bad.

Crying Shame

2005-06-21T20:45:00.000-07:00

Upon my return from Martin's Cove, Amaya had a going away/birthday party because she's leaving for the summer to her home country, Norway. It was an interesting, albeit strange, night party. When she was driving us home around 11:30 pm it occured to me that I wouldn't see her again until August. So I said to our friend Preston, "Let's make a memory." Because according to the Ataris, life is only as good as the memories we make after all.

Because he lives three houses away from me I suggested that we go honk in front of the mayor's house. We finally settle on something far less sinister and go hop the fence of an abandoned, empty house that people are about to move into the next week. It wasn't too exciting and I was somewhat disappointed. But we said our goodbyes and my sister and I ran all the way back to our house as Amaya and Preston sped away.

The following is an email I've now had to forward to several people, so I post it here because I'm too lazy to re-summarize the event:

So we're running to our house and we see our garage door closing so we
make a dead sprint inside. Our mom was pretty surprised.

Even now I don't believe that we were in the house for much longer than three minutes when there's a knock at the door and my little brother tells my dad that there's a funny looking man at the door... I figure that it's a business man that came by earlier to drop off something for my dad. So I go to answer it and outside my glass window I see that it's a man dressed in a yellow Orem Police jacket with a gun holsted to his waist.

It takes me all of about 10 seconds to realize what a police man is doing on my front porch. I panic.

As events progress, it seems that Nina thought she heard our old lady next-door neighbor call the police. That neighbor's house is right in front of the house we fence-jumped. To sum up, what basically happened is that lady saw two people hop over the fence and run into my garage and two others got away in a getaway car, and the other two were holding my family hostage and obviously preventing us from calling the police.

Oh, it gets better. Next morning at church, I tell Richard and he starts shaking his head. "I can't believe that was all you," he laughs. He drives into Arthur's Court late at night way past curfew and well aware that he's gonna get a sit-down from his mom if he doesn't have a good excuse. (He actually does have a good excuse--Patti and Monica and other girl problems, but it's not the right one and I don't know that I should talk about Monica...) However as he rolls in he sees three police cars parked in the Court and policemen searching the area with flashlights. So when he gets home, before his mom can get too many words in he quips, "I'm sorry I'm late mom--say, do you know why there are police cars outside?" His mom totally spaces and forgets to punish him.

Never quite saw that coming, getting the cops called on me. It only makes sense though, because you have to understand that my neighborhood is full of rich people.

As the weekend and the following week began to progress, I became somewhat entangled in that "Richard-Monica" thing that I had referred to. Basically (and anyone who knows who these people are must be sworn to absolute secrecy) Richard and Monica like each other, as everyone already knows, but Richard can't ask Monica out because Patti, his very good friend, would become extremely jealous. And he holds his friendship with Monica in very high regard, so he believes that it's worth the sacrifice. I say that the way Patti has been acting he gives her way too much credit, but then again I don't know Patti very well.

I applied at an Italian resteraunt in Orem that's next to the mall called Fazoli's with Richard. I got a tip from Eric (mentioned in the "Enter Harry" entry) because he works there. I talked with Eric as Richard was getting interviewed by the manager Ian, and Eric filled me in on things that had happened since EFY and Wyoming. Basically a girl named Pamela who lived in his church ward told him that she liked him. However she played like she acted Harry. Pamela has also applied at Fazoli's, apparently. She was in the same class as Richard and I when we got our food handeler's permit. And as it were, Harry also applied there. So if things went accordingly, Fazoli's was about to hire a love triangle, a hashed-out friendship, and two hopeless romantics.

Thing is with Pamela is that I have a bit of a history with her which I hinted to in my "Enter Harry" entry, when I mentioned that in elementary school a girl had told me that I would never ever have friends and I made the choice to believe her, and how that mentality has haunted me to this day. That girl was Pamela. I didn't really see her or associate her since that time in elementary school until at a dance last year. It was weird how she acted, and still acts, like we are good friends or something.

That Tuesday I had what I like to call a temporary lapse of insanity, and I called Harry for the first time in about a month and a half, and the first time all summer talking to him. I felt like nothing had occured as far as our friendship was concerned when I hung up. Possibly things got worse.

On Thursday there was a stake dance. At the dance things didn't go too well between me and a girl named Jessica Wilkinson. Apparently she's been mad at me because I rejected her sister who had a crush on me last summer. Now it was being dished out between Jessica and my own sister Nina. Nina made her feel so bad that she made her apologize to me at the dance. I was unaware that they were having a brawl even at the dance until Jessica came up to me with tears in her eyes.

I almost couldn't handle all of this. Jack Johnson's song began running through my head: "It's such a tired game, will it ever stop? How will this all play out...?" I got a case of extreme vertigo in the back of my head towards the last hour of the dance, so I went off to sit down until I was invited to go dance with a friend of mine named Alex. As we danced, Harry suddenly appeared out of nowhere and said hi to me. Out of surprise I could only nod to him. The vertigo got worse and I felt like I'd fall over, and I was so depressed. I calculated that since he got off of work at 10:00 and the dance was over at 11:00, he decided to show up for the last hour. The rest of the dance I kept my sanity in check and completely avoided him. I couldn't help it--it was almost by instinct. Part of me didn't want to but I did anyway.

The evening ended with me having a heavy emotional breakdown in front of Richard when he dropped me off at my house. He comforted me so much, and I was really grateful for him. He promised me that he'd always be there for me no matter what. Another friend seeing me depressed at the dance also made the promise to always help me and be there for me. Later, in an email Amaya would also promise this. The only thing with all these promises is that I had lost all my faith in them. For Harry had broken his own to me, and mine to him.

A couple of days later I was at Dan's house at about 8:00 pm. and I invited Eric over. He told me that he was going to Harry's house and they wouldn't be doing anything so once he got there, he'd tell Harry and they'd come over to Dan's. Dan and I hung out until 10:30 pm. I guessed that it was because Harry felt I had ignored him and now he probably thought it suitable to return in kind, because they never showed up.

Crying Shame-Jack Johnson

It's such a tired game, will it ever stop?
How will this all play out upside out of my mouth?

By now, we should know how to communicate instead of coming to blows
We're on a roll, and there ain't no stopping us now
We're burning under control
Isn't it strange how we're all burning under the same sun?
By now, we say it's a war for peace
It's the same old game, but do we really want to play?
We could close our eyes, it's still there
We could say it's us against them
We can try but nobody wins
Gravity has got a hold on us all
We try to put it out, but it's a growing flame,
Using fear as fuel burning down our name
And it won't take too long 'cause words all burn the same
And who we gonna blame now?

It's such a cryin', cyrin', cryin' shame...

By now it's beginning to show a number of people
Are numbers who ain't coming home
I can close my eyes, it's still there
Close my mind, be alone,
I could close my heart and not care
But gravity has got a hold on us all
It's a terrific price to pay, but
In the true sense of the word, are we using what we've learned?
In the true sense of the word, are we losing what we were?
It's such a tired game, will it ever stop?
It's not for me to say
And is it in our blood, or is it just our fate?
And how will this all play out upside out of my mouth?
Who we gonna blame?
On and on.

Martin's Cove

2005-06-20T13:32:00.000-07:00

At the end of the week at EFY on Saturday I was hanging out with Evan and his sister and friend from Manteca, California. They complained about how once they got home their bishop would commence the torture of selecting someone to talk about their “EFY experience.” We played at the games center, ate at the Subway, and hung out at the dorms lobby. Evan talked a bit about how things were between him and Brooke. Before long my mom showed up and I had to say goodbye to Evan.

As we drove home, my sister reminded me that the second I got home I had to pack for Martin’s Cove.

“Say what?” I was so winded after EFY and I had totally forgotten about Martin’s Cove. The youth in my church’s area were going to make a trek to a historical church site in Wyoming where many early Mormon pioneers had lost their lives. The place was just west of Devil’s Gate and adjacent to Jones’ Cove.

Packing was a nightmare, because there were three different lists and none of them were complete, so it was very much up in the air what to take. I was scrambling all over my house and in the process I lost a key that’s very important to me, and my EFY contact list of everyone that was in Joy Is Full.

The next Tuesday I found myself up at 3:30 am to board the bus. Everyone met at my church and before long we were on our way. I sat in the back and it was living heck trying to get to sleep because there were these girls that refused to shut up! One of them being Richard’s sister.

When we got to the site we had to start pushing the handcarts all the way to our campground, which was three miles (I think). It really wasn’t bad at all, until later in the afternoon when the wind starting pulling an Indy 500 on everyone. It was hard to cook and pitch tents. Some tents even ripped. I say that the wind wasn’t so bad, but maybe that’s because I’ve been in a stronger winds while sitting in a sandblasting canyon at Lake Powell.

That evening half my group was missing so the remainder of our group, mostly girls and the two adult leaders and I, decided to eat dinner in the women’s “faucilitation room” about twenty feet away from camp. So, I guess it’ll be an interesting thing to tell my kids that I once at a spaghetti dinner in the girls’s bathroom in the middle of nowhere of Wyoming.

The next day we trekked to Martin’s Cove. Most of this next day will be talked about in my “Confessions” blog, so you can refer there for most details. My young men’s leader held a contest for the best dressed pioneer, and I won because I went out of my way to collect pioneer clothing from a neighbor of mine. (And shopping at Saver’s.) No one else really cared anyway about winning. I got an MP3 player, which makes me really happy since I don’t really have any other way of listening to music.

At night Richard and I stayed up late talking about…well, literally everything. He told me how he looked up to me, which I didn’t see coming, and I really wished that he didn’t. He told me a ton of stuff and I think that we were closer friends after that night. Also, something that I kinda wish now that I didn’t know, he told me something concerning Harry’s girl problems. I really strayed from that corner of the world but now it seems that it’s coming back to haunt me.

The following day we headed home. That Sunday my bishop selected me to talk about my “Martin’s Cove” experience. I thought about how I laughed at Evan a week ago. Now two sets of pioneer clothing, one handcart, and a plate of sandy spaghetti later here I was at a pulpit.

As the “Irony” song goes: “It figgurs.”

Return To EFY

2005-06-05T20:32:00.000-07:00

This past week I’ve been gone to EFY. If you keep up with my spiritual blog “The Rainmaker Confessions”, then you know what EFY is. When I got home, my mom told me how the whole world started calling for me. I’m sorry; I know that some of my friends thought that I got raptured or something for a week.

I absolutely loved EFY (Especially For Youth). The theme for 2005 is “A More Excellent Way”, and I learned a lot about that more excellent way, which is referring to a Mormon scripture (Ether 12:7, in case you’re interested).

The only way to describe the difference between EFY 2002: “We Believe” and EFY 2005: “A More Excellent Way” is the word upgrade. Everything was different except for the building. I had a different session director, and the classes seemed better put together. The food wasn’t as good. I had a roommate. The rules were a lot harsher and stricter. The dorm was different. It was my counselor’s first week. The games were a bigger deal. The dances were on different days. There was an art, poetry and dance contest.

On Monday, I walked in late to my group’s first meeting. At EFY, you live in the dorms of the university campus you’re staying at, which was Brigham Young University in Provo, Utah for me. The hallway of the dorm your room is in is usually your group, which is usually made up of five rooms—ten guys, and then also a counselor.

So I walked into that late, and we each introduced ourselves. There was Aaron Taylor, and Brenton Keele, and Chris Pinchak, who seemed to be kinda quiet in the beginning. Other than that, there was Robert Warby, who was the son of a bishop and just plain cool; Jimmy Sweeney, who was awesome; Andrew Quensenberry, who was nicknamed ‘Q’ because of his last name and he did debate, drama, and was a recent convert to the church; Mike Larson, who was about to leave for a mission in Ogden, Utah; Brett Lodholm, who was kinda short and had a lot of spirit and walked in the last (he checked his watch and was like, “Oh, shoot—I forgot about time zones!”); and my roommate Evan Herrera, who played football and was on the wrestling team. My counselor’s name was Brandon, and this was his first week ever teaching EFY.

All of Monday was pretty much a get-to-know-each-other day. We met the other dorm of guys. There were these two friends named Cameron and Tyler—we called Tyler ‘Shep’—and these guys were hilarious.

And then the best part of Monday (of course…) was meeting the girls. There were so many cute girls in my group! Last year few of them were cute and the ones that were acted really snobby about it. This year the girls were all very incredible personalities and good-natured. Like Tamra, and Jessica (Robert hit it off with Jessica really fast, let me tell ya), and Jocelyn, Tara and Kaytlin, Soojin and Becky (Soojin was a girl in my calculus class), Leah, Sydney, Erica…just lots of fun.

Everyone came from all over. We actually found out on Wednesday that Brett came from Guam. You’d never guess that if you saw a picture of him, though.

You could tell just by looking around that our group was gonna be so awesome. At EFY, they give your groups names like your “company” or your “league” or “county”…this year mine was a company. And then they give the companies names, so ours was Joy Is Full. (In 2002, the names were simpler, like words of virtues. Mine was Service.)

Anyway, by Wednesday everyone was having a total blast. Q and I led the company in our official group cheer, which was neat. The guys in my dorm ordered pizza on Wednesday night. And in the evening there was this cool sunset on Mount Timpanogos. It was incredible.

All of us guys in the dorm all grew very close within just the first two days—which was unusual. In 2002, we didn’t become united the way I did with the guys in my dorm until Friday. And here we all were like a mini fraternity, a brotherhood. Like I think it was Tuesday that Robert’s hair gel went missing and he was totally nuts over it. He was like, “Where’s my gel? Hah, hah, so funny. Who took my gel…” And Q was in the musical program with Aaron, and Q taught me so much about different things. And Brett ballroom danced at the Tuesday night dance. He could do everything: swing, waltz, twists...it was awesome.

My roommate Evan from Manteca, California, would talk to me at night about all kinds of stuff, like how he had a crush on Brooke. He’d never felt for any girl ever the way he felt about her. Brooke left all his girlfriends behind. He was so proud of her school accomplishments. Plus she was a cheerleader, so they connected fast since he was a jock. Plus, he taught me a cool workout I could do every night.

Looking back on it now, if I could have picked a roommate, it would have been Evan, Brett, or Q.

I entered into the poetry contest on Thursday, and it turns out that I actually won first place in the poetry contest, but I didn’t contribute a poem. Instead I contributed a song I wrote called “Innocent”. The song is a tribute to Joseph Smith, Jr. There’s so much more that happened on Thursday night, but you can refer to my “Confessions” for that.

Come Friday night, everyone was so sad and crying because now everyone was close and didn’t want to leave. Everyone was saying, “Just a few more days, or one more week…” That's what one girl said to me. I danced with only three sixteen/seventeen year-old girls the entire week; the rest of them were fourteen and fifteen. It was weird.

After the dance that night I walked into my room to find Evan on the bed. At first I was startled ‘cause I didn’t see him there, but I thought he was praying. It turns out that he was crying, and it was about Brooke. First time he ever fell in love, and first time he ever got his heart broken. I tried to talk to him—I only hope that I helped him. The next day he and Brooke got to talking and he told me that everything would be all right. I sure hope so. Evan kinda grew on me. (Not that I wanna pick out curtains or anything. You know what I mean.)

Saturday morning was just so…I can’t describe it. That helpless feeling you get when you say goodbye to someone you might never see again. Sure, we might email each other and all that jazz, but…it just won’t be the same. Everyone was hugging each other so hard, because we all missed each other already. Robert said that he had graduation goodbyes, and now EFY goodbyes, and soon he’d have mission goodbyes. “It’s too many goodbyes for my liking,” he said.

If you’re one of the guys from Joy Is Full, please know that I miss you all so much, and even though we met for a week it felt so great to know every single one of you guys. I’ll keep in touch just like I said, and hope you do the same. Comment on this!! You’re allowed to!!! Thanks for all the memories I’ve got now of EFY 2005.

For more on my return to EFY, go to “The Rainmaker Confessions” (in the list of links to your right) for a deeper spiritual account, and about what happened on Thursday night.

Go to “A Poet In Wicker Park” to read “Innocent” and details surrounding that. I know that after the huge awards fiasco some of you wanted to read it, like Jimmy, so go there. Also, soon I’ll post a song that I started writing while at EFY that’s about Evan and Robert’s dramas, and saying goodbye.

In addition, soon there’ll be a link on this post to pictures from EFY taken by my friend Q. A big thanks to Q for all the pictures he took, and also thanks to Tara for taking the picture of me and Brother Larson!

Mmmmkay!! (Thanks for the phrase and the dance move Shep, you were awesome!)

Holiday

2005-05-26T23:09:00.000-07:00

I beg to dream and differ from the hollow lies
This is the dawning of the rest of our lives
On holiday.

It’s been such a strange ending to this school year. Orem High just had its last real day of complete anarchy, and now I’m pretty much officially on a summer break. It’s really about time, too, because I needed a holiday very badly.

I feel so old when I think about all the things I went through this last school year. In my junior year alone, I went through so much. I almost had no Christmas, and then I did thanks to my friends. I got a new crush. I developed a complex web of connections among friends. Some friends of mine came to me with very serious problems. I started flunking. I sluffed for the first time. I found myself the most brotherly, Christ-like friend in the whole world…and then lost him.

And most of all, I defeated my greatest darkness. I closed the door to darkness, and now walk the Road to Perdition. Once and for all, I have destroyed my dark. And I won’t have to worry about it ever again.

There’s so many other things I went through, and now coming out of all that should bring a sense of freedom. But it doesn’t. Because I didn’t think that I’d begin my vacation this way. Virtually friendless and alone. I feel so alone now. And there’s so much that’s gonna happen this summer. I just don’t know how I can do it all. Especially by myself. But I’ve got things to do, and I’ve gotta do them during this small season that I have.

I can remember just before school got out, my Newspaper/Creative Writing teacher was talking to me. Somehow, I started listing things about me in the conversation. With each thing, she became more and more astounded. Finally, after what seemed like the last straw, she blurted out in surprise, “You...you…you’re just a kid!”

And I had to nod. That just seems to be the story of my life. I’m too stupid and naïve to really compete with my ever complexifying life. (Yeah, that’s a word; no, I don’t care.) I don’t know that I’m all right with never growing up, because I’m always afraid that I’m just gonna mess up the next thing that I try to do. So I’m afraid that this summer is gonna be so messed up.

All I can do, I guess, is swallow it up and roll forward. And do what I can to make everything one big ride. Because everything for the past while has been one wrong mistake after another. But as Violet says, what might seem like a series of unfortunate events might actually be the beginning of a beautiful journey. And if there’s one thing a guy is afraid of, it’s growing too old for an adventure.

This is the dawning of the rest of our lives on holiday

Lemony Snickety

2005-05-21T17:57:00.000-07:00

Movie Review: Lemony Snicket's A Series of Unfortunate Events

I’ve gotta admit: I never thought that I ever would have sat down to watch this film. That’s because before I saw the film, I was always discouraging my little brothers from reading the books. I really hated them.

But after I saw the movie, my impressions of the books changed. Now I’m reading the second book, and at the rate I’m reading I’ll through to book 11 by the end of next week.

It’s hard to say what my favorite thing about this movie was, so I’ll start off with what I didn’t like. The score was very well done, and I loved it. I might consider buying the soundtrack. However, the thing that’s holding me back from doing that is that at some points, the score got kinda repetitive. Another thing that I didn’t really like was Emily Browning, who played the oldest Baudelaire Violet. She’s pretty cute, but her acting wasn’t that great in some crucial scenes. Her character seemed to be inconsistent. And at some points the set and costume design was overly dramatic, and too reminiscent of a Tim Burton film.

Other than those things, I loved everything else. The script adaptation was severely disappointing to my little brothers because it was so unlike the books. And after reading the first one, I have to say that he’s right. But the adaptation was marvelous anyhow because of it’s ability to pack the morals and themes of the books into little five minute scenes. The first book takes almost 120 pages to do that. The film managed to deliver the theme of the books best with Violet’s line in the closing scene of the film: “…What might seem like a series of unfortunate evens may actually be the beginning of a beautiful journey.” It also keeps the book’s satire and parody of grammar—except in the film it makes the parodies about cinema. One thing they did was have Sunny, the infant Baudelaire, blatantly tell Jim Carrey’s Count Olaf, “Bite me.” Understanding Sunny’s literary role would make you appreciate that, but it cracks you up just the same.

I did say that the score was a bit repetitive at some parts. But other than that, the score was incredible for such a film. On that note, so was the set and costume design (granted their Burton shadow). And the film was extremely well cast. My favorite actor was Liam Aiken, who played the scholarly Klaus Baudelaire. I sure hope to see more of this young actor. He did an incredible job and made many young actors that get so much limelight look ridiculous. Kudos to Liam! Others in the cast that I was pleased with—other than Jim Carrey, of course—include Meryl Streep, Catherine O’Hara, Dustin Hoffman (who played a small cameo and has no relation to Kara and Shelby Hoffman, the twins that played Sunny), Cedric the Entertainer, and Jude Law. For Jude Law, the credits specifically say “Jude Law as the voice of Lemony Snicket”, but I would venture to say that Law was the silouette of Lemony Snicket as well. And now that I’ve read the book, I can say that I am very appreciative of the mysterious, subtle yet gentle Snicket tone style that Law maintains in his narration. Readers will easily identify his voice with Snicket’s in the books.

As for Jim Carrey—well, you know that he wasn’t bad. After reading the books, I see that the villainous Count Olaf was much more serious than the movie portrays. Nevertheless, Carrey’s comic adaptation was very good. There are some parts where he just plain freaks you out with his vile intentions, and others where you’re chuckling at the hilarious antics of Carrey’s three characters.

Overall, I must say that I had to re-check the box to make sure that this remarkably done film was produced by Nickelodeon Studios. I recommend Lemony Snicket’s A Series of Unfortunate Events to everyone. I used to hate even the thought of saying that, but I really like the messages—especially the moral of maintaining high hopes despite evil around you. Viewers really should be warned: this book includes many disasters such as a house fire, an exploding door knob, a man with hooks for hands, cold oatmeal, a long knife, and a nuptial—a word which here means “having to do with legal marriage” law book. The ending isn’t very pleasant and somewhat unpredictable. So if you don’t like movies with unfortunate events like tragedies or conspiracies or fighting with only your brain against all odds—in other words, if you don’t enjoy watching a children’s film about real life, then I strongly suggest that you watch The Littlest Elf, which stars Kim Jerry.

Four Days In Verse

2005-05-16T00:21:00.000-07:00

Here I am, up late. For the past four days I’ve gotten about 10 or 12 hours of sleep. I’m gonna just go over what happened using song and verse.

The first night was because I was up doing my “Confessions of a Rainmaker” blog (which is now accessible from the link here on this blog). That blog is about my spiritual life, so feel free to visit and give opinion. However, because it’s religious and spiritual, please don’t flame me in the comments. (Dude, don’t flame me at all, actually.) Don’t tell me I’m being blasphemous or something. If you want to attack my religion, beliefs, or confessionals, then email me.

The next night was because my friends Amaya and McKay were having a crisis. McKay is notorious at my school for a tragic reason. If you ask someone—typically a sophomore or junior—who are the most depressing people at Orem High, they’d probably list McKay in their answer. I’ve never really closely associated with the guy, but everyone always says that he’s depressed all the time and that you can never talk to him, he’s hard to understand, etc. However, when I visited his blog, I didn’t necessarily see a blue-mood guy as much as I saw…myself. I could see a lot of similarities between him and me. And while I’m reading it, I’m thinking, “How can no one understand this dude? I totally understand this stuff!!”

This song is kinda for him. It’s called “Jim’s Theme” from Disney’s Treasure Planet, but I would like to submit it as “McKay’s Theme”. P.S. I kinda like how each chorus is different.

"I’m Still Here (Jim’s Theme)"—John Rzeznik of the Goo Goo Dolls
I am a question to the world, not an answer to be heard,
Or a moment that’s held in your arms
And what do you think you’d ever say? I won’t listen anyway
You don’t know me, and I’ll never be what you want me to be.

And what do you think you’d understand? I’m a boy? No, I’m a man
You can’t take me and throw me away
And how can you learn what’s never shown?
Yeah, you stand here on your own
They can’t see me, ‘cause I’m not here.

And I want a moment to be real, wanna touch things I don’t feel,
Wanna hold on, and feel I belong.
And how can you say I’ll never change?
They’re the one’s that stay the same
They don’t know me, ‘cause I’m not here.

And you see the things they never see—all you wanted, I could be,
Now you know me, and I’m not afraid
And I wanna show you who I am. Can you help me be a man?
They can’t break me—as long as I know who I am.

And I want moment to be real, wanna touch things I don’t feel
Wanna hold on—and feel I belong,
And how can the world want me to change?
They’re the ones that stay the same
They can’t see me, but I’m still here…
They can’t tell me who to be, ‘cause I’m not what they see,
Yeah—the world keeps on sleeping while I keep on dreaming for me
And their words are just whispers and lies that I’ll never believe…

And I want a moment to be real, wanna touch things I don’t feel
—Wanna hold on, and feel I belong
And how can you say I’ll never change?
They’re the ones that stay the same

I’m the one now, ‘cause I’m still here.

I’m the one
‘Cause I’m still here
I’m still here…I’m still here…

The third night I was up talking to my friend Richard about girls, school politics, and the Book of Revelations. If you’ve ever seen the T.V. show “Smallville”, then met Richard, you’d swear that Lex Luther and Richard were the same person—except Richard is much younger, doesn’t own a mansion, and isn’t bald. (Although an infamous math teacher at his junior high once told him that all he needed to be cool was to shave his head. The teacher himself was bald.) Richard is into business, economics, politics, and women. He’s got connections everywhere, and you can ask him for almost anything. His father is a business tycoon, a millionaire. He fences. He has the same girlfriend problems. And, he’s got a knack for saving the day with style, wit, and class (unlike Clark, who just dashes in and throws people around). Richard’s one of the coolest people I know, bald or not.

Anyway, when girls came up we started talking about the girl I like, which got me thinking about her for the rest of the night, which led to this song. P.S. Hoobastank is turning into one of my favorite bands. Because fact: they’re awesome, and I can’t believe that “The Reason” is the only song that gets real radio coverage. They’ve got way better songs. P.P.S. Richard is the one who lent me their CD.

"Lucky"—Hoobastank ("The Reason")
I knew how it felt to be
Another one in need of someone to show the way,
Until you saw a part of me that nobody else could see
And my life hasn't been the same.

Chorus:
You make me feel lucky as I can be…
You make me feel
Lucky as I can be

Before, I couldn't get a break [Couldn't get a break]
Never had a chance to make the impressions I want to,
But now, it falls right into place [Falls right into place]
When I get to see your face, then there's nothing that I can't do.

Chorus

No more dark days, only sun rays
No more hard ways with you today…

You…make me…feel...

You make me feel
Lucky as I can be...lucky as I can be.

This past week, things have been getting kinda weird between Harry and I, and every day I’m wondering exactly what’s going on. Sometimes I plain don’t give a darn anymore, and sometimes I really miss the guy. So this song is for him—or rather, because of him I should say.

"Never There"—Hoobastank ("The Reason")
I'm filling up inside like, I need to open wide
And pour my heart out to you
But I'll just get denied, and all I wanted was someone
To hear what I'm going through.

Chorus:
Every time that I need you around, you're never there
[never there] You're never there [never there]
Because in my life is where I need you now,
But you're never there [never there]
You're never there [never there]

You were supposed to see all the signs I left to read in front of your face
You were supposed to be the closest thing to being me,
But you're the furthest away.
That's because

Chorus

And I doubt that I will ever find out
If there's a way to get out of feeling all alone
'Cause lately, I've been thinking maybe
If no one's gonna save me, I'll do it on my own
On my own…on my own…

And finally, here’s the way I’ve been feeling lately. P.S. Love the new 3 Doors Down album.

"Never Will I Break"—3 Doors Down ("Seventeen Days")
Lay me down, wash this blood off my hands for me
While I cry out, "Don't let me die before I go to sleep."
And I can't keep going, but I cannot start again—
This road I walk is paved with broken promises I've made
At least a million times I've fallen, but never will I break.

These walls I make, they could hold me in and hold me back today
Oh, but tomorrow's new, and I'll walk right out and walk right over you.
If you hear me screaming, please don't let me fall again—
This road I walk is paved with broken promises I've made
At least a million times I've fallen, but never will I break.

My time is on its way
I'll fall but I won't break

This road I walk is paved with broken promises I've made
At least a million times I've fallen, but never will I break.

Enter Harry

2005-05-06T23:00:00.000-07:00

I just had some kind of revelation experience with the novel I’m reading, A Separate Peace. Part of it is because I realize that with all the symbolism I can see in it (see the analysis for the novel A Separate Peace on my blog “A Poet in Wicker Park”) is actually closely related to my current friendship with a friend.

I don’t know if I can use his real name or not, so here I’ll just use a variation of his first name: Harry. To tell this whole story, I’ve got to start at the beginning, and I’m not entirely sure where the beginning is.

Really, the beginning is with another friend of mine named Eric. He was really good friends with me in sixth grade. We were almost best friends. Then in junior high, we kinda got apart from each other. In about eighth grade, Eric found a friend named Harry who had just moved from Canada. Harry was a social outcast for some reason; he was always alone and no one wanted to be his friend.

So in our freshmen year, Eric and Harry were best friends and I only befriended them from a distance. I was entangled in other friendships, like the one I had with Dan and Quinn, and I was also in the middle of a conflict that existed in the underground of my junior high—a conflict that threatened to escalate into a Columbine at our school. (Looking back on it now, I guess I’ve always been involved in something bigger than me.)

Anyway, that’s how I knew Harry when we got to Orem High, through Eric. I didn’t really hang out with them until halfway through my sophomore year when Harry was having problems with a girlfriend. I was connected with this girlfriend because she was the cousin of the sophomore class’s underground mafia/KGB hit man, Cameron. Because I was in his little “Godfather” family, I became plunged into the drama of the whole thing. And I won’t take the time to tell that here. It’s another story, and shall be told another time. One thing that did end up happening is that I got Harry and Sam to be best friends even though before Sam hated Harry. (Funny thing is that Sam doesn’t remember that. And Quinn predicted that he wouldn’t.)

So anyway, during the whole girlfriend thing with Harry, I got to know him through that. By the end of the year, we were friends but I wouldn’t say that we were good enough friends to really touch base with each other very often. Guess Harry didn’t feel that way, because the next thing I know in the summer he’s always coming to my house to talk, and hang out. And I was really appreciative of that because I never really had a friend.

And I mean that. Eric was a good friend, but he stood out. When I was younger—maybe in fifth grade—I was told that I would never, ever have any friends. I just kinda came to accept that. Now I look back and realize that something that stupid came out of the mouth of a girl who was struggling for social power. Nevertheless, the mentality that I would never have a true friend always stayed with me. All through even up to my sophomore year. I just came to accept that no one would really be there for me.

So when Harry started to hang out with me, I felt like “Hey! A friend.” And eventually, I started to return the friendship.

Then my junior year began. And this year was so…I can only compare it to a crucible. A small place where constant pressure was causing deep, lasting changes in me. I had such a hard time living from day to day. I was struggling with an internal darkness (see my spiritual blog “The Rainmaker Confessions”) that was getting stronger and stronger. More than once I attempted suicide. I felt so far away from God. And my physical life wasn’t doing so well; my family was financially in the hole.

Harry was the one person who saved me in this dark. If he hadn’t come around keeping up on me and constantly reminding me that he wanted to be my friend and help me with whatever I was going though, I know that this blog wouldn’t exist. Because either I wouldn’t exist, or I would be in a totally different world and a totally different life. Things would have a dramatic difference if it wasn’t for Harry’s brotherly love. As the Coldplay song “Amsterdam” puts it, I was on the edge and tied to the noose, but he came along and he cut me loose. And he helped me walk away from the bridge. He promised me that he’d always be there for me no matter what happened.

One thing he also did for me was he organized a Secret Santa for my family during Christmas 2004. We were so far down in the hole that my family didn’t think we’d be having Christmas for the second year in a row. I was all right with this—mainly because I had lost all hope. But I knew that my little siblings were going to school and singing Christmas carols and go to friends houses and see lights and trees and presents…and then they’d come home to no tree and no lights, and no presents. Such an empty Christmas would be something they’d remember for the rest of their lives.

So night after night, we’d get doorbell-ditches of boxes on our doorstep. Boxes of food and presents, and even a tree. I later forced out a confession from Dan that Harry had organized the whole thing with him and some other friends: around at least ten people. It had cost them about $200 (they refuse to tell me even now and sometimes jokingly deny that they were involved, so I estimate). It cost them a lot of their time and money. But they did it for me.

And Harry did it because he couldn’t stand the thought of me being without a Christmas. You see, Harry lives in a world with certain peace and freedom and innocence. The things that exist in my everyday life such as gassing a school, kids getting pregnant, next-door neighbors taking drugs, friends attempting suicide left and right, people depending half their lives on one single action that you do…the life I lead filled with violence and danger and darkness is just not something that he can tolerate because it goes against his nature.

(And I know that the above things may be stuff you go through everyday. But I live in a place called Happy Valley/Pleasantville/Paradise. Utah Valley—Orem City especially—is filled with people with the “Happy Valley” mentality. In Orem, people think that you can’t get hurt. My life is out of the ordinary for someone like Harry. Not that he has this mentality—it’s just his nature to be that way. Maybe it’s his way of escaping his Canadian past, because I know of some secrets he’s got there, as well as in his personal life.)

All these things that Harry did for me I was extremely grateful for. Perhaps too grateful, though, because I loved to brag about how cool Harry was. And that really got on Harry’s nerves. Now he’s told me that he needs space away from me. He told me that right before my life got really dark—just when I need him most, he left me.

So, after all that analysis of A Separate Peace, I’ve gotta wonder: who jouced the branch? Me or Harry? I guess that to do that, I should determine who’s Gene and who’s Finny. Funny thing is, just like Gene at the end of the novel, I’m both.

I'll comment more fully in a later post.

A Secretary is Not a Robot

2005-05-04T17:56:00.000-07:00

This morning didn’t start off too well. I got home at around midnight last night because I was at a study session for a chemistry end-of-year final with my sister, her friend Kristy, and my friend Richard. (Fact: chemistry finals blow.) And I had this whole plan to stay up doing articles for my school newspaper (I’m on the staff and I’m behind on this month’s issue) and doing some other stuff for school. All I needed was to lie in my bed for a few minutes and then attack my homework.

I guess that I got into bed and a few minutes later it was time to go to school. I had fallen asleep. Which totally womped, because I had more than five assignments I needed to have done. I was gone all day yesterday, and the time I had to use the computer my sister was using for the chemistry final. (Further fact: having chemistry finals when none of your other classes do also blows.)

So I’m sitting in my first period, Creative Writing, which is taught by Ms. Stanton. She’s also my newspaper advisor. She allowed me to go do some stuff for the newspaper, which included going out to interview people. When I went to the office, someone I needed to interview was in the high school’s LDS (Mormon) seminary building. I’ve had a friendly relationship with the front secretary that has somehow developed over the space of a couple of years. Part of it is because she’s so buddy-buddy with my sister, and part of it is because I’m always talking to her and keeping up with her life outside the office and what not.

However, I’ve needed to talk to a student for newspaper during seminary before, and I guess this really makes the secretary (name is Mrs. Bond, known as Sister Bond) annoyed because it disturbs the Spirit in the seminary classes that I take kids from. I totally respect that, and I can see how it might, seeing as how I’m Mormon myself. But she treats the matter like I’m the only one that does it. I’ve been in that seminary for two years, and in my classes kids are always getting pulled out by school office aids, student council, and what not. She doesn’t like it anyway.

So I write up the interview for this girl I need to talk to, Emily Hill, so that I don’t need to spend forever with her during her seminary class. All I need is a picture. I suck in my breath and I walk into the seminary. And there she is at the desk, with a look on her face like she knows exactly why I’ve come.

“Hi Sister Bond,” I say. She returns the salutation, and with a pang of guilt I say, “I need to talk to someone for newspaper.”

She gives me a look that’s halfway between a smile and a smirk. “Well Marcus, you know I can’t do that.” She sits back in her chair, as if she’s saying, “I will not be moved from my seat” like Rosa Parks.

“Please? It’d only be for a minute or less.”

She just shakes her head. All the images and thoughts of office aids over the years, pulling kids out of my classes without interrupting, flashed through my head. I wanted to grab her shoulders and scream, “My life is heck right now!! Please make it easier and gimme what I need!!!”

Partly because I thought I could make the situation less tense by making a joke, and partly because I was (to be blunt) fed up with her attitude, I said, “And hey—it’s not my fault that the kids I need to interview have newspaper.”

She just sat there; her face had flinched somewhere. Realizing that I misworded my joke/sentence, I say quickly, “I mean, kids that have seminary, when I have newspaper. And this is the time that my teacher let me out—”

“I can’t believe you just said that to me,” she says suddenly.

Have you ever climbed a staircase in the dark, and you put your foot down where you think there’s a step, but in reality the last one you stepped on was the final stair? So your foot hits ground later than you expect, and you feel a sudden jolt when you realize what you did? That is somewhat what it’s like to lose a loved one, according to Lemony Snicket. That is also what it’s like when you realize that you’ve just insulted someone.

There I sat, mouth slightly agape. I still didn’t fully comprehend what I’d done until I got that jolt—which came from this gut feeling of realizing that Sister Bond was in shock. The tone in her voice carried some kind of terrified flavor. Then as if something terrible had just happened and she was covering it up/swallowing it down/biting her tongue, her fingers flew to her computer. “Who is it that you want, Marcus?”

90% of my mind was reeling with guilt, realizing that I had offended a good friend of mine. My mouth, somehow sensing that something was turned off upstairs, decided to take control. “Emily Hill. I know that you don’t feel good about this…” my mouth just started trying to make an explanation, an excuse, an apology—or at least something. But she just gave me the seminary teacher and refused to make eye contact with me.

I said “Thank you” but looking back, I realize that because half my brain was still registering, and my heart was feeling heavy, I sounded more like I was snapping at her with sarcasm than giving gratitude.

Later in the day, while still feeling guilty about it, I had my newspaper class. I showed up late because I was in the main office getting the names of other people I needed for articles. Incidently, the one I needed the most was in seminary. Right then and there, I gave up on finding any of them.

As I walked into class, Ms. Stanton seemed to be quiet. As I rummaged through my backpack to find the articles I had to turn in, she announced that she was going to the office. “Marcus, come with me,” she said as she was headed out.

I thought she needed me to carry something, or she’d give me an idea for an article. I was surprised when as we walked, she asked slowly, “Tell me what happened in the seminary this morning.”

Oh, I thought, this womps. I explained what had happened to her, and as we approached the office she explained to me that Sister Bond had called her shortly after Creative Writing got out.

“She was, from what I could understand, very offended. She told me…” she paused uneasily. Then, “She told me you were the rudest student that she’d ever interacted with.”

I wanted to die. Right there. It was then that my business being friends with Sister Bond was over, and that all my friendships were hinged as delicately. I couldn’t function correctly. I’ve felt for so long that because I’m such a mess-up, I can’t have a best friend ever again (that’s a different story, and shall be told another time). But this just confirmed that the messes I cause will destroy friends. Who would of thought it’d be the Mormon secretary?! Now it seems like I can’t get anything right. And somehow, I’ll mess up each and every one of my friendships. It’s better if I just stay out of good friendships from now on.

Ms. Stanton must have somehow realized that this deeply affected me, because then she continued to say how she herself didn’t think that I was that way, but I couldn’t hear her anymore. I could barely understand anything. I just sat there, wondering what my future was. If I can’t have friends, I am gonna die. Eventually, my heart will blow out like a candle if there’s no one there to keep it going. The ones who could keep it the strongest have disappeared from my life. Now everyone else is disappearing, too. No one knows…I start thinking. The darkness in me…no one knows…no one can see it or smell it, and yet I am saturated by it. No one knows…

After school I went and apologized to Sister Bond. Her main emphasis was that I had broken LDS seminary policy by not obtaining permission from Ms. Stanton to go specifically to the seminary building. She acted like she wasn’t offended by my remark at all. She mentioned that I’d said it, but if only for an instant—then rushed on like it hadn’t actually happened. I felt like out friendship was out the door like last night’s dinner slop, and that I belonged out there with it.

It may seem to you, reader, that it’s a petty thing to feel guilty about offending a secretary. But for me, I’m affected by the guilt on so many levels. I’m trying to do my best and forget about the whole stupid thing (partly by talking about it).

As I walked out, Sister Bond says to me, “You’re a good person, Marcus.” Her voice sounds a little strained, like she's trying to be polite.

I chuckle sadly as I shake my head. “No,” I say firmly. “I’m not.”

And then I walk off.

Still Waiting

2005-04-28T20:51:00.000-07:00

I can't believe that it's already Thursday. I mean, just yesterday it was Sunday.

So I'm here, with not much to say. I do some pretty stupid things when I'm impatient. But I'm not sure what I'm impatient about.

Actually, that's a lie. I'm real anxious about a lot of things, I suppose. Like what's gonna happen with my prom on Saturday, and when I'm going to go on a date with a girl that I like, and when I'm gonna see the movie "Hitch", and when "Kingdom Hearts II" is coming out, and when my friend Amaya is going to PM me or email me, and when I'm gonna start work at my local theater Carmike Cinemas (since I just applied there and that's pretty much my first real job), and when my best firend will start talking to me again, and what will happen when I take a sabbatical (of sorts) Saturday morning...

And here I am talking about all of that. And I'm still waiting for it.

Wake-Up Call

2005-04-28T20:50:00.000-07:00

Advice For a Middle Man

2005-04-27T18:14:00.000-07:00

After last night’s post, I wound up going to bed at around four in the morning. Then I woke up at about seven for school.

When I woke up, it was kinda funny; my brain was still running the dream program in the background of my reality program. So I understood that I was awake, and I had control over my body and all that jazz. But my mind thought that I was dreaming. I thought that I was still playing with the eBlogger website, PMing my friend Amaya, and looking at theories on a fan site for the Mickey-Mouse-meets-Final-Fantasy fix video game, “Kingdom Hearts” (which I devote 45% of my brain power to, despite my hatred for all other video games).

So my brain says, “Hey, we need to check Amaya’s message.” And so it shut down. I was sleeping for a few more minutes when I woke up again—this time fully aware that it was indeed seven in the morning, I had a chemistry test to fail in a few hours, and that I still needed to ask a girl to prom. I had no memory of my nocturnal activites.

As I washed my face, put in my contacts, and brushed my teeth, the events of the night slowly dawned on me. I had some flashbacks of PMing Amayra and creating a blog on the Internet. At first, my response to the blog was, “No! I’d never!!” And I was unaware of what it was that I had talked to Amayra about; I only could remember that it was of a somewhat life-altering nature.

P.S. I don’t usually wake up like this. It was probably due to the lack of sleep over the past two months, last night being a climax for my poor body. Over the past weeks, I’ve gotten maybe seven or so hours of sleep on average. Last night, I got a little less than four.

Skipping forward, I went to school (arriving on time for the first time in two months, I’m so proud of myself!!). I was a little ticked at my teacher—Mr. Kenneth, who is the radio station advisor—because he made me leave my breakfast outside. I’m betting it was so the guy couldn’t gape at me eating it, but it was just a bagel. My gosh. Anyhow, I didn’t grumble too much because fact: I want to be a D.J. on our radio station next year and he’s kinda promised me a shift outta the goodness of his heart, and fact: he was on drugs when he was in high school and it clearly shows. No offense to Mr. Kenneth at all.

About halfway through the day, it fully hit me that I’d created a blog. With some grimacing, I decided to set out and ask one of my friend’s permission to mention him. If I’m gonna have a journal where the public can openly view it, then I should get his permission.

His name is Daniel. Sometimes we call him Dan for short. Daniel Oakes. It bothered me so much to talk about him because I’ll be talking about how he’s a recovering porn addict. He was fine with it. I was actually pleased when he went on to say, “I’m gonna confront it sometime.” Daniel has really come a long way, having the sultry stuff bundled up inside of him for so long, and only recently making a good recovery. He, like me in many aspects, is a warrior on the comeback trail. I look up to Daniel Oakes.

In the meantime, I was having issues with another one of my friends, named Sam. He’s gotten into a problem of his own with a girl who, above most things, has a crush on him and a smoking habit. This has put him at odds with the girl, as well as Quinn—a good friend of mine as well as Sam’s best friend since junior high.

I hated to see Quinn and Sam separated from each other. But it didn’t help matters that Quinn has moved and goes to a different school. So, what I felt was that they need a middle man.

I should say right here that this has been one of my occupations in high school: to be a middle man. Sometimes people don’t even ask me to directly; somehow I always get stuck in the middle, and they essentially say “Be our bridge. You’re hired.” It’s both a blessing and a curse, I suppose. Mostly it’s not pretty. The song “Middle Man” by Jack Johnson (whom I’ve just been introduced to, and if you haven’t heard him then you need to get yourself a radio or one of his albums, because he ROCKS) would be the theme song to my experiences as a middle man if they were scripted into a T.V. show. Fact: I’ve been told that I’m a good middle man. Further fact: I think I’m a terrible middle man.

Point being that because I wanted to figure out why Quinn was mad at Sam, and also because I’d been out of a job for a while, I decided to have Quinn come to my house and talk. See if he’d hire me for his bridge to Orem High, and Sam.

He actually said that he preferred that there was no middle person between he and Sam. I was surprised at first. But as he explained, I understood that it wouldn’t help. It wouldn’t hurt, but it wouldn’t help either. Quinn felt that if Sam was hinging their seven-year friendship on a small incident with a girl, and Sam refused to talk to him, then he wouldn’t push it. If Sam is a true friend, then he’d be the one to come talk to Quinn. Quinn had tried and tried, and Sam refused to talk willingly. Quinn wanted Sam to get his act together and talk to Quinn on his own. If Sam would only do that due to middle-person influence, then in Quinn’s opinion he wasn’t such a good friend after all.

It was a very discouraging view of Sam, one of my last good friends that I’ve got left (which is a whole movie trilogy of a drama), but it wasn’t the first one. I’d had varying negative views of Sam from others--including his ex that lives in my neighborhood--where he wasn’t such a good guy after all.

Eventually Quinn left, happy that I spoke with him. We rarely talked since he moved, and apparently I was one of the few friends he’s got left in Orem City. I promised to stay out of their conflict.

Quinn left me with a few lessons, though. First, sometimes the absence of a middle man is a good thing. Most of the time, you may need a bridge to the person you’re having problems with. But sometimes you’ve gotta see the true test of your friendship: seeing who’s gonna jump in the river and swim first.

In the end, though, it all goes back to conflicts with miscommunication. In any case, that’s usually why you have a middle man there in the first place. Lots of dog-eat-dog fights begin with a few miscommunicated instances, or misplaced sentences. Miscommunication is what got Sam and that girl all messed up, anyhow.

It’s too bad the human language isn’t perfect. It’s amazing how one little word can have a totally different translation to someone else’s mind. Makes you confused, and relay conjumbled messages. Just like the song, “Middle Man”.

I’d just like to advise anyone who reads this to WATCH YOUR WORDS. Say what you feel—not what you want the person to feel. And validate their interpretation thereof. By gum, people. Whole worlds can be destroyed.

Anyway, I’ve come here now just to type all that up. I’ve left out a bunch, but that’s all I have time to post right now. At this moment in time, I’ve gotta go finish reading “A Separate Peace” for my English class.

All I can say is that I’d better not be up at ungodly hours reading it…

A Late Night with Titration

2005-04-27T02:46:00.000-07:00

Yeah, I'll bet you took one look at the title of this post and went, "What the blazes is titration?"

Well, sorry to dash your hopes, but it ain't a drug. It's a chemisry concept. And that's about as much as I can tell you, because I don't know much else. Other than it's hard to do in a lab.

I'm currently up at three in the morning, and I'm supposed to be cramming for a chemistry test. But unfortunatly, I find that procrastinating is a lot more interesting. I'm solving two life problems at once--one problem is mine, and another problem belongs to a good friend of mine. (Eventually I'll have to give her a name, because she may come up a lot.) And a few hours ago, I was solving...like, what? Five life problems?

You know what I wanna know? Titration is something you're never going to hear about once you exit the high school doors. Why on earth do we force young teenagers to study it? Not that I want some rain on my parade, or to complain. But honestly, people. We pay educators to waste time and money (which some say are the same thing) talking about something that we won't even care about later.

Why don't they teach teens how to solve life's problems instead? Grown-ups just love to act like they know how to solve them sometimes. I say, share the wealth of knowlege. Tell me, good sir: how to you talk to a gay friend? Or comfort someone who's been raped? Or escape bullies at school? Or develop good relationships? Or...

Those seem to be things that matter later in life.

Or maybe...I'm completely delirious and I'm uncapable of doing anything right now. Seeing as how it's three in the morning, and my nocturnal clock is already out of wack.

New Blogger on the Block

2005-04-27T00:26:00.000-07:00

Hello...

Wow, this is kinda weird. But I can deal with that.

Anyway, this is my blog, "Blue and Yellow". The title is based on a song by The Used called "Blue and Yellow", and the song very closely relates to my life right now. And blogging is the new drug, it seems ("C'mon, man--everbody's doin' it...), so I might as well try it out.

For now, let the lyrics of the song suffice. Then we'll see how this blog thing jives with me.

"Blue and Yellow"
It's all in how you mix the two
And it starts just where the light exists
It's a feeling that you can not miss
And it burns a hole through everyone that feels it

You're never gonna find it if you're looking for it
It won't come your way...

I should've done something, but I've done it enough
by the way, your hands were shaking
I'd rather waste some time with you

Well, you never would've thought in the end
How amazing it feels just to live again
It's a feeling that you can not miss
And it burns a hole through everyone that feels it

Well, you're never gonna find it if you're looking for it
It won't come your way...

I should've done something, but I've done it enough
by the way, your hands were shaking
I'd rather waste some time with you

I should've said something, but I've said it enough
By the way, my words are fading
I'd rather waste some time with you

Waste some time with you..