fuck

Ladies and gentlemen, we have moved

And by "we," I mean "I"

www.crowdedrooms.blogspot.com

the fuck

I feel bad about not updating. Because, well, it is something that comforts me. I've been going totally fucking insane lately and I don't know why. Maybe it's because I haven't been expressing myself in any way. Apparently bottling things up is unhealthy.

All this nothingness is kicking my ass. The fact that recently my life has been completely devoid of anything new makes the old seem even worse. And, fuck, tomorrow is going to suck. I hate Sundays.

I guess more than anything I've been feeling manic. Like I'm a little hamster on those stupid wheels, running and running even though I have no idea why I'm doing it in the first place. And nothing ever changes. And I can't see anything ever changing. I feel like day in, day out, it's going to be the same. Nothing to look forward to but the weekends.

Sundays fuck me up. I hate them. I don't know why. I wish I could just sleep through Sundays. I really do.

And school is the most depressing experience ever. I'd do absolutely anything to get out of it. I really would.

And god, I hate everyone. I could stab the shit out of 95% of the people I know and not feel any remorse. Rather, relief.

That sounds awful. I don't know. I really don't. Hopefully this is a phase.

another quote

"Magic is everything that science hasn't made boring yet"

Hell, yeah

Happiness is..

Not having to work tomorrow.
Realizing something you love is being made into a movie.
Waking up with a Joker card stuck to your cheek.

I can't think of anything else.

play crack the sky

"and i wish for one more day
to give my love and repay debts
but the morning finds our bodies
washed up 30 miles west"

i don't sleep, i am exhausted
i do sleep, i am even more so

proof that our lord and savior jesus christ hates my guts

From time to time,

I lose sight of stuff that's important to me. And yes, I know, I demerit any sentence I pen (or type, but pen sounds better) by putting the word "stuff" in it, but I kind of like that. You know, deconstructing a perfectly good sentence with a word like "stuff." I have this friend, you know, and he says "and shit" after every mildly philosophical sentence he states. I find it both hilarious and endearing. I am not too worried about typing this here, because I don't think he reads my blogs anymore. It's good.

Anyway, the fact that Nick says "and shit" in the most fantastic way possible isn't the purpose of this blog. I don't think, at least. I mean, it could be. I never know the purpose of my blogs when I start typing them. I think I'm only writing this much because I feel bad for neglecting my blog so long, and because I'm so grateful that Max reminded me of blogger. It's a good thing. Once again, I think.

Things are .. well, different. For the longest time, I've been convincing myself that everything is just fine. Not good, not bad, just fine. And that's bullshit, and I'm just starting to realize that. I wouldn't say my thoughts are suicidal - just contemplative. I've been spending a bit of time with the "what if" monster. I mean, I think it's just one of those cry for help things. Right? I mean, I don't think I sincerely want to kick it.

Lately I've been thinking about Sarah Schiltz a lot. See, she used to cut herself. She might still do it, I don't know. But the thing is, she is pretty stupid. That sounds harsh and all, but you, the reader, don't know Sarah Schiltz, more than likely. I mean, she's just goddamn stupid, is all. (To clarify, she's not stupid because she does that. Well, er.. just, keep reading, okay? I'll clarify later)

So one time I was hanging out with her. She and I were talking and I noticed her arm was a little scratched up. Three vertical lines ran down her wrist. Perfect little furrows. I couldn't help but think of irrigation. Anyway, I asked her about it. I asked why she did it that way - vertically, I mean. In my experience, it's always horizontal, y'know? I mean, it's probably a pretty mundane detail of self-mutilation, but the point is, I asked.

She said, "I saw on the internet that it's supposed to be that way." And then it hit me - she'd seen this joke type thing that some asshole made. Exhibit A. Now just look at that. It's an instruction "manual" for suicide. And it just hit me that stupid people like Sarah take things like that seriously. I mean, she didn't realize it was a joke, and that some anonymous internet retard made an illustration as a joke, and Sarah Schiltz took it seriously.

My first thought was, "What if she had killed herself?" This resulted in a mental victory dance, followed by a reprimand from the theoretical angel on my shoulder.
My next thought was, "What if there are more stupid people like Sarah? What if this is the culling song of America? What if I mass-produced this image?" Once again, a lecture from the little angel.

But all I could think about was, you know.. why do I hang out such idiots?

I still wonder the same thing.

Hmm.

So, this is delayed and all, but welcome to July.

I guess I've just lost inspiration for absolutely everything. Which is bad. I don't know, though. Maybe my head will explode if I keep all these useless thoughts inside of it for much longer.

Dismantle Me

Things have changed. Again.

I've gone from being miserable about Ben to be being miserable about someone else (for Max's sake, I wont mention who) to being miserable about Ben to being miserable about someone else. The fact that it's almost five in the morning isn't helping my case. Also, I don't really know what to do with myself nowadays. I have been home for just about a week straight, aside from work.

Anyway, Max, your folk band sounds awesome. I'm up for Beirut-inspired songs.

Wake up

I've been ignoring this thing for quite some time. Mostly I just dread reading the stupid things I penned while I was going through various phases.

Lately I've found that it's impossible to breathe when life has you by the throat- things change so quickly. Any type of feelings I ever had for Ben -- friendly or otherwise -- have ebbed away, at least from my consciousness. Love isn't ever as dramatic as we make it out to be. I think it's more gentle than a smack in the face, not like I thought before. I think it's just a slow fall with no sort of end in sight.

Once more.. nothing like I've imagined for so long.

there's nothing

quite as therapeutic as standing in the middle of an empty street, while the sky cries.

i swear, could see for miles.

All the shit

I said I was gonna do when we broke up hasn't happened yet. None of it.

I've just thrown myself into music, so far.

I was happy to see Max perform this evening. Mandolina (Mandolino?) is a lucky, lucky instrument.

Fuckin' A

I can see again! I can see again! I am free from the oppression that those infatuations can bring! It hurts to be so painfully aware of my idiocy, but hopefully you've noticed your own.

Don't get me wrong,
I would still take you back
in a second (or two).

Nothing quite wakes you up

like a 3 AM run in the pouring rain.

I'm soaked down to my bones and nothing is making sense. I just don't care anymore.

Just a stranger

Yeah, I thought you were tangible
Turns out I was dreamin'

(a tidbit of a song,
or something.)

My hearts' record for speeding

I hate seeing you sad, but making my heart ache seems to be your favorite thing to do..

Moderation

I'm going out of town next week. Not this Saturday but the next one. I will be visiting my grandparents in their tiny town, and I'm getting the feeling already that I'll just spend the entire visit watching IMF and the Indie Film Channel. Satellite television is a distraction from the world outside my window.

I also have a feeling that I'm going to stay up till around 6:00, waiting for you to call. And you'll call at 6:02, when I finally drift off.

You do it just to spite me.

To Friends

Max,
You can't idealize a big city. I mean, you can, but it's just going to be more of the same, on a large scale. If you want recognition, earn it.. But no matter where your music goes, I'm going to be more than happy to support you in as many ways as you'll let me..

Caroline,
I wish you weren't so insecure sometimes. I love you all the same.

Ben,
The only routine I haven't gotten sick of. There are a lot of things I want to say to you, but not here. Not now. I've found myself wishing on dandelions for you to hate me, because usually the things I wish for turn out opposite.
And though I'm trying very hard to blend seamlessly between your friend and your girlfriend, my smile will always be false.

Joe,
I'm sorry. I missed you.

Caitlyn,
Oddly enough, I don't dislike you nearly as much as I thought I did. You say some ridiculous things, but I feel like getting to know you was a good idea.

Michael,
It's weird to be talking to you again. You haven't changed at all and I've done some kind of insane 360. I'm not sure what it is about you that appeals to me, but I'm pleased we're friends, though I'm equally pleased you don't live here anymore.

Spencer,
It was nice of you to stand outside the teachers bathroom and wait for me to stop dry heaving. It's things like that that I appreciate a lot. You are special and nice and I'm glad we're friends.

That's all I feel like writing for tonight. Some kind of wrap-up for the end of the school year. Not nearly as compelling as Max's.

Ben does his own thing,

and two days later I'm on the bathroom floor with broken glass and a note pad.

Ben cries, and so does the sky.

Alone, but not lonely

I experienced something significant today. I don't think it'll be as striking to anybody else but me. All the same, it happened, and it was interesting to me..

I'd been having a pretty shitty day. You know how that goes. The whole not showering in a couple days and dreading work things definitely factored in. At the end of PE, my friend Seth and I always go upstairs about five, ten minutes early so we can get to our lockers before the giant mass of idiots come billowing out of their respective courses. Anyway, today was just like any other-- his locker's on the second floor so we parted ways, as usual, and I went upstairs. Usually there are about five people wandering around the halls at this time, so I was surprised when I noticed that I was completely alone.

I had my headphones stuck in my ears and I was carrying my Mountain Dew and I was listening to this really great song. It doesn't have words or anything, but it's still a great song. And after a few seconds I closed my eyes and just walked down the hall way. It felt like there was no world outside of what I was listening to and thinking about. I felt so complete, but insignificant, meaningless, at the same time. Somehow it was a good feeling.

And then, just as the bell rang, the chorus swelled, and I stood stationary while the rest of the world pushed past.

p.s. I left out the part about the bitch from my foods class yelling at me. But it didn't mean a thing.