12/14/04 2:45 P.M. Psychology 8^th hour

Recently, I just went back and read my archives. One word: Wow. As I read through the ninety-eight posts, it was so enlightening yet embarrassing. There is an obvious yet wonderful arch there. I think I started my blog somewhere around my freshmen year. The entries were rather short and choppy, a couple of misspelled words, and missing words. The perfectionist in me wants to go back and correct all those little mistakes. But I am no longer that innocent freshmen. An insurmountable wall of time separates me from those times. A locked door in the middle of the wall. My memory, ah that’s the key. Plus my perfection is my imperfections, the little flaws, the things that make me human. Those words were correct for my age back then (like it was a long time ago). But I think about it, it has been a long time. I have come o so far and grown o so much. So let those words stand in eternity, along with all the words I ever write.

Many an occasion, I have compared myself to the ocean, or at least to my personality. You can’t judge me until you explore what is beneath the surface. But in a way, we all are oceans, metaphorically. We all have thoughts that we don’t share with others. We all have secrets. We all have pasts. You can’t just pick us up and read us like books. You strive to look beneath the surface. It’s a hard fact to face, we will never really know a person. You could spend the rest of your life with someone yet you would come no closer to knowing everything that there is to know about that person than me trying to quit drinking Mountain Dew. It might sound sad and a little depressing, but be glad you even got the chance to know a person as best as possible. We are our own unsolved mysteries. We are our own never-ending stories.

I am writing this entry throughout the course of the week, which really isn’t revelant.

Hmm, the simple pleasures of life.

12/15/04 9:15 A.M. Study Hall 2^nd hour

My oh my, how does the time fly? This entry is brought to you by the fine folks that make Mountain Dew. Do the Dew. If it weren’t for them, I’d probably be sleeping a sweet little study hall nap. <

I swear “they” have been preparing us all our lives for these tones. Think back to grade school. They started testing our sight and hearing. The tones from the hearing test sound exactly the same as the “tone.” If you hear the tone from the right, raise your right hand. If you hear the tone from the left, raise your left hand. I swear.

If you think about it, we have been institutionalized by school. Think about it. A tone tells us when to go to class and a tone dismisses us. A tone tells when to go eat. A tone to tell us when we can go to the bathroom. I kind of miss the bells. It had an organic, tangible sound to it. Metal clanks against metal, thus creating the sound of the bell. The tone, however is run by a computer program. How do you feel about that? We have spent a good deal of our lives imprisoned. Although we commited no crime and we are here to learn, a person doesn't need the bricks, bars, fences, and guards to feel imprisoned. Good grades are our good behavior. The better we act, the more likely we will get of here on time, instead of those who choose to misbehave. Those people may be here for another year or so. Every test we take is our parole review. Every time someone steps too far out of line, they throw them in the hole.

We will always be borderline insane and one stone's throw away from genius.

We will never be free from our destiny. It follows us like a shadow.

12/16/04 8:40 A.M. Sociology 1st hour

Things have been moving as slow as snail today.

Sam - Mountain Dew = Anguish
Sam + Mountain Dew = Enlightenment

Someone told me I was addicted to Mountain Dew. Hmm, nice deduction, Sherlock. You think? I have been drinking Mountain Dew since I could walk. Then he asked me if I had tried any other kinds (i.e. Live Wire, Code Red, Pitch Black, etc.) According to my knowledge, there is no other kind of Mountain Dew. The others taste nothing like Mountain Dew at all, it's just a marketing scam made up so they can actually sell some of it. Then the kid posed the question, "Have you tried drinking diet or caffeine-free?" First off, whatever you say Diet Mountain Dew tastes nasty. I can smell the difference. (yes, I know, pathetic) Second, I don't really need to be on a diet. Now, on the subject of caffeine-free Mountain Dew. What's the point? It's like drinking decaf coffee or the sport of curling: there's just no point behind them.

I have no clue as to why I am writing like this, but I really don't want to ponder it. How about pondering a single word?

How about KARMA?
How do you like that?
KARMA
Heavy, isn't it?

Speaking of Karma, I was buying myself a Mountain Dew (imagine that) at the school's vending machines when my soda got stuck in the machine, thus rendering me frustrated. I thought I was in luck when another kid came down to the vending machines. I told him of my plight and asked him to use the soda machine that my soda was stuck in. The moron replies,' Uhh, I think I'll just use the other one man.' Wtf? So I had to put in an extra dollar to get my soda and one that I didn't want. Well the moron puts his money in the machine and the sound I hear next is o so pleasing. The sound of soda getting stuck was boost to my morale. I look at the kid looking at the soda machine dumbly, as if he couldn't put together what had happened. I just looked at the kid and laughed. 'W hat goes around comes around, kid.' I said as I walk away. This all could have been avoided had the kid followed my advice. Of course, I can't drink two mountain dews in 5 minutes, so I give one to Dave Thomas, thus putting karma in my favor.

Funny little thing, Karma.

It seems when inspiration strikes me, it usually hits hard. My heart seems to pour all of my writing out through my fingertips.

I don't believe in procrastination. I believe in last minute deperation/inspiration.

Well I must be going. I bid you fare well.