I'd Do Anything1 comments... for this year to be over. Hm I'm sleepty, bad headache. Feel all wonky. Might see my wife tomorrow, might not. blah!! Progress Report in prayer-- tyhats what happens when you give a student TWO quizzes in ONE day after he's been absent for three days. Aren't Jesuits supposed to be smart? And nice? Priests are supposed to be nice! I try my best not to dislike priests, cause they're supposed to be respected. But I don't like this one. I bet he'll fgind my blog and talk to me about it, right Dan? I don't care. He probably knows hes an ass. Upside: My presentation went OK. Not great. It was about Santeria, I got many blank stares. It was sort of interesting though so.. whatever. I'm cranky The Way to Pray?0 commentsWhat makes my way better than anyone elses? Why should there be a right way to pray? There shouldn't. God listens to everyobe and I believe God listens to the poor and homeless way before he listens to me. So because they may not be very educated and may not follow the so called rules of prayer, does that cancel out their prayer? I don't think so. We should not be tested and quizzed on the right ways to prayer as there is no right way. Prayer comes from the heart, it doesn't have to be well thought out, wordy and insightful, as long as it's earnest and passionate. That's my one rule, prayer should be passionate, heartfelt, you should be able to feel your prayer moving throughout your body, and really want God to hear you. But apparently if your prayer doesn't begin with "Oh God" or some other address to God, He'll ignore you cause you didn't say His name. I agree there is a wrong way to pray. You shouldn't go through the motions cause its te right thing to do. If you're not feeling it, God may not be feeling you. That's the only rule. Not all that other crap being forced down my throat by a dellusional priest. God doesn't care about how you pray just as long as you say hello to Him once in a while. Janis Joplin's prayer seems more effective than the stuff we do in class, and that's not saying much. Oh Lord, Won't ya buy me a Mercedes Benz? My friends all drive Porshes I must make amends. Worked hard all my lifetime no help from my friends. So oh Lord, wont you buy me a Mercedes Benz? Oh lord, won’t you buy me a night on the town ? I’m counting on you, lord, please don’t let me down. Prove that you love me and buy the next round, Oh lord, won’t you buy me a night on the town ? Writing Again0 commentsWhen i finally buckle down to write, do I write a new story. No. I decided to rewrite an old story. Emily and STeve, about an abusive relationship. It had a happy ending and I don't like that because that's not reality. The reality is most women stay in abusive relationships until they die because theyre too afraid to run away. In the case of Emily howerver in real life she did run away. Emily now however has become a composite of 2 people I know who've been abused. So the story is taking a really sad tragic and unkown turn. This story may never have an ending so I might end it in a very ambiguous unkown way. I've got 3 stories on my computer right now asking to be finished. Teresita's story, Lupe's story and Teresita's husband's story (which has yet to be begun other than a few notes written in my moleskine). On the Eighth Day0 commentsOn the eighth day, once everything was very good God wanted to relax, like any other hard-worker would He took one last look around; it was all still very good So He decided to stroll around His endless starry neighborhood. Who would have imagined that on His return this God would find His creation in infernal disorder and in a sad moral decline He was discouraged and thought of leaving all of us behind While He collects His unemployment and tries to rid us from His mind Since then, some choose not to accept it They only see it When the want They wait patiently and sit Looking to match wits With anyone one who sees as they do. And since then this world keeps spinning spinning, shows no sign of stopping just for me In the meantime we are down here being played with like a lady on the street I’m not the kind of idiot who’s convinced that easily I’m just frank and tell the truth. and these are things even the blind can see. What if out of loneliness or lack of things to do God stopped caring and moved on to someplace brand new It would be our loss; we’d have nothing else to do But worship Paris Hilton, Lindsay Lohan, or Tom Cruise. It’s probably hard being a king without a crown Than being here in my small town Feel for this God who’s so unrenowned He’s not a model or singer, has no family of His own. And since then this world keeps spinning spinning, shows no sign of stopping just for me In the meantime we are down here being played with like a lady on the street I’m not the kind of idiot who’s convinced that easily I’m just frank and tell the truth. and these are things even the blind can see. Leave Me Alone.... I'm Lonely!1 comments
I'm so schizophrenic. Constant back and forth, can't make up my mind, total illogical patterns of thought. I finally made my decision.. Chestnut Hill. It may be the biggest mistake of my life, I'm so unsure about every choice I make and step I take. I'm growing up, but would rather stay home, eat cookies for breakfast, snuggle in my bed and watch Disney movies. Other times, however I feel like being independent, going against the grain, going insane, going mad. Other times I drive myself completely bonkers with how inconsistent I am, and how illogical my loopy mind really is. I have no maturity level, as I write this deep adult meaningful blog kinda really want to see the movie with the talking animals that was just advertized on TV. I hate big changes, I hate not knowing. But then sometimes I hate knowing, I hate predictanility, but feel completely unssafe with unpredictability. Before I was scared not knowing where I'd end up, now I'm scared of where I'll be. I'm weird. I'm so excitd to break away and start a new chapter in my life, but I really wish I was more sure of myself and my decisions.
Still Awake0 commentsYou know that strange numb feelin gyou get when you can't sleep, then you sleep for a few measly beautiful hours and try to get through a whole day? It doesn't bode well for the rest of my day that I'm numb and loopy before 8 AM. I've always wanted to write a dialogue like Meredith's little "As doctors..." speeches. So I will try one, it might be cheesy, and it might be fictional, but I want to do it. As students we are supposed to be used to drastic change. We move on from year to year, grow older, assume bigger responsibilities, and have to cope with a new batch of teachers every single year. None of this is supposed to matter to us however, as we have no time to get caught up in petty changes because we are always thinking about the next step. The next chapter in our so far empty books. Maybe it's best we try not to get caught up in the mellowdrama, because then, maybe we will never allow ourselves to move forward. But maybe a little sappiness is alright, merited, should at least be expected. When is it enough though? Some take it too far, counting their lasts (our last lunch, our last report card) instead of the firsts (my first college acceptance, my first scholarship). These are the ones who have peaked. The on-top-of-the-world seniors. Their lives can get no better, they can't go any higher, they've hit the glass cieling if you will. They've peaked. They're the ones working as Gym teachers, or managing an Arby's. Maybe running into past classmates once in a while, "Those were the good ole days eh?" Then there are the ones who do not let the changes affect them at all, the introspective ones. Their future is much more unclear. Anna Nalick0 comments
I really hate that bitch Shonda Rhimes for playing Anna Nalicks whole CD on Grey's Anatomy, and also want to have sex with her for a) writing such a great show and b) opening my ears to sch an amazingly talented artist. I'm looping her song Wrexk of the Day. It's a brilliant and passionate song, I love those songs that are so open to interpretation. Her heart is plopped onto the cutting board, and isn't beating anymore, she has tragically and beautifully given up on love if she cannot be with this one particular guy. She writes about destiny, prayer and the tragedy of a love lost. She's so hopelless and torn into pieces, it's so beautiful and sad. She's so lonely, I kinda wanna do her.
Sick of School or Just Plain Sick?0 commentsI feel crumby. i really have no energy or motivation to get through today. i want to go home and climb into bed. rewatch greys anatomy. watch a 30 minute meal and get so into it i think i can smell the bacon.... only to realize that my dad was cooking bacon and that glorious smell was in fact a reallity. bah! i'm over this. i want my bed. actually i want a new bed.. my new comforter, though nice, is stiff lie a rock, its not puffy or big, i want my sisters comforter. and her bed. its big, a full sized, and comfortable. I want to move in to her rom. but its too late i guess. right now though, any bed will do as long as im in my jammies with some chocolate milk, cold chocolate milk. it seems the only thing getting me through my day is reading Love Monkey. It gets even more brilliant with every page and I am sad to say the book is better than the wonderful TV show (RIP). he writes in a very straightforward way, you really don't hae to think about what he's trying to tell you. Kyle Smith is the kind of author that would warn his reader or poke fun at himself as he offers a metaphor. His style is so self deprecating and raw. he's a brilliant writer and i cannot wait until his new book, Christmas Caroline, is out. Love Monkey might have been better as a movie. I really really hope the TV shows second life lasts longer on VH1. Theyll air anything, maybe they'll give it a whole season. pray. i translkated another song, left it on my home cvomp. its actually succesful as it keeps with the rhythm and theme of Ciega Sordormuda by Shakira. I want to meet her. that'll make me feel all better. Hot Hot Heat0 comments
With spring creeping in and making everything all sticky coomes the complete loss of motivation. I managed to make my steinbeck paper one page doubled spaced of complete suckking. Im just not feeling Grapes of Wrath anymore, even the characters suck. And I will admit I didenjoy writing about Steinbeck's chacters as they were always very complex. but Grapes is just... wandering. Its just them leaving their farm. I think i hear bats outside my window. Tandom but thats a vey strange sound. Like a dying chihuahua on helium? I can't describe it. Its a freaky sound. I don't like postingh mywriting on here cause it isnt good. But I don't know what else to post here. Im not very introspective or angry lately. I'm still cold and snarky, but no need to blog aout that. Now it seems I have o keep this forever, as an homage to a blog that was once my motivation to blog and has since been abandomed and deleted. RIP!
Writing A Snarky poem0 comments
This may be the first thing I've ever written that's remotely funny. First story is about Ross from friends when he gets stood up. Second is about some person I know..... I wated to try writing something with such a serious title that turned out to be really ridiculous and ironic and funny. I'm getting better at comedy, not quite FUNNY yet
Tragedy and Misery She’s an hour late As you sit and wait You sit, drink and wallow alone Doesn’t it feel great? On your first blind date Joe’s Pizza picks up when you call her phone Maybe she came Maybe she saw you Maybe she left then and there You’ve been fake-numbered You pitiful fool Get up from that table; they’re starting to stare Your life is nothing but plain ole tragedy You wallow alone in self-loathing misery Well I’m sorry life sucks, but please complain to another Truth is I set you up with my mother She’s been kinda lonely, thought I’d throw her a bone One look at that pitiful pile, she was done. He was so lonely And she was the only One who would notice him at all. She said “I love you” in a letter She tried and tried, he didn’t let her Now she’s worse than him and has no friends at all. Her life is nothing but plain ole tragedy She sits and waits for him, miserably Sorry life sucks, might you have a brother? Cause your lover’s type isn’t far from yours either. Now you’re kind of lonely, and that was a low blow But your little boy toy wants his own beau. Call it irony, call it tragedy But problems follow these ill-fated fools. Try to feel sorry for their misery Try not to laugh at how their stories unfold Try to sympathize, try to feel pity Don’t hold it in or you might explode.
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