It's kind of hard to believe that just a few days after writing that last entry I fell in love with a girl. It's even harder to believe that I had a first kiss just a few days after the 1-year aniversary of this silly thing.
Of all places to find love, it was at the theater. I never would have expected it, and she literally turned the entire rehearsals for Annie around.
My band concert went well. So did my other one... except for that one part where I forgot my music and reproduced it from memory... oh well.
The movie project has begun, and I am taking Scott and I's creative vision to film... which may very well be our future.
I pause now to see that so much has changed in the last year. I see how I've changed. Everything revolves around change... I've already said that.
And in some aspects, I've forgotten and rediscovered Rheneases many times over. In myself, in people, and I keep discovering new ones in my newly created love life, which has become one of the greatest blessings and mysteries I've ever found.
A million stories were not told in this journal, a million, which if I could do this over, I would write. However, you know plenty about me as an individual person. That is, if you are nutty enough to read this private journal of a very private... or, given the rheneas... not private person.
And so I will close with a story... from a good opera called Einstein on the Beach.
The day with its cares and perplexities is ended and the night is now upon us. The night should be a time of peace and tranquility, a time to relax and be calm. We have need of a soothing story to banish the disturbing thoughts of the day, to set at rest our troubled minds, and put at ease our ruffled spirits.
And what sort of story shall we hear? Ah it will be a familiar story, a story that is so very, very old, and yet is so new. It is the old, old story of love.
Two lovers sat at a park bench, with their bodies touching eachother, holding hands in the moonlight. There was silence between them. So profound was their love for each other, they needed no words to express it. And so they sat in silence, on a park bench, with their bodies touching eachother, holding hands in the moonlight.
Finally, she spoke. "Do you love me, John?" she asked. "You know I love you, darling," he replied. "I love you more than tounge can tell. Your are the light of my life, my sun, my moon and stars. You are my everything. Without you I have no reason for being." Again there was silence as the two lovers sat at a park bench, with their bodies touching eachother, holding hands in the moonlight.
One more she spoke. "How much do you love me, John?" she asked. He answered: "How much do I love you? Count the stars in the sky. Measure the waters of the ocean with a teaspoon. Number the grains of sand on the sea shore. Impossible, you say? Yes. And it is just as impossible for me to say how much I love you. My love for you is higher than the heavens, deeper than Hades, and broader than the earth. It has no limits, no bounds. Everything must have an ending except my love for you." Again, there was more of silence as the two lovers sat at a park bench, with their bodies touching eachother, holding hands in the moonlight.
Once more her voice was heard. "Kiss me, John," she implored. And leaning over, he pressed his lips warmly to hers in fervent osculation...
Two and One Half Months Later
A lot has happenned since Grandma died.
I lost pretty much all interest in blogging my life. I also admitted my insane and hopeless obsession over Tavia to Aarthi, just to get it off my chest. I've come to my senses, no matter hard I try, it's no good with her. I've finally cut the apple just the way I like it, even if I can't make it something more than an apple.
I attened Grandma's burial in Ohio. I think I was able to find peace within myself, living out in old Ohio, where villages of yesterday still stand. Grandpa has become increasingly dismal, turning what used to be old, random stories of the past into somber accounts of a life lost, calling them random comments leading to nothing. He has lost faith in something that has helped him hold together most of his life...
I managed to recover easily from Grandma's death by reading Slaughterhouse-Five by Kurt Vonnegut. In the book, they describe how there is an alien planet where the aliens live in all moments of time at once. They view the ideas that everything that ever has been is and always will be. An interesting philosophy developed in the book... when a man is dead, they may not be doing well at that moment, but they are just fine plenty of others. I think that really helped me understand something: we must concentrate on all the good moments of life, when Grandma was still here. And so, I do, finding this sense of existentialism a much better way of life.
Meanwhile, my prolonged absence left me way behind in school. I nearly failed most of my classes, turning my life to hell for three weeks. I think my parents only really recovered when we went on vacation for Christmas.
I started a webcomic called "the artist." You can find it at www.geocities.com/e3r6y/ . It was a bright idea sort of making fun of artists, starving artists, and people who just calll themselves artists. You'll see more of them soon.
On Christmas, we went to california by car, which was a lot of fun, considering I got to relive memories of my favorite roadtrip ever. There, I re-met my cousin... er... first cousin once removed, Jasamine. She's really an interesting person to be around. It was an odd expirament with her. You see, I normally might not have gotten along with someone like her, but the cool thing was that she had little to no previous impressions of me, and by acting a little more natural, she really did like me. So, I talk with Jasamine every so often.
When I came back, I worked on the script to my movie project in Humanities (still in revision) and script to Jerry Kahn: Private Eye, which will be a follow up CD to our original, Abberrational Idiosyncrasies, and will be based off the Jerry Kahn story.
Rehearsals for a new play, Annie, came in (after I finished a Christmas play), but when Scott quit, my visits to the theater became gradually worse and worse. Without any real company (Scott being the main reason I joined), Annie became little by little a sort of private hell for me. It has culminated in a fight over who plays what parts what night due to quadruple casting, which Scott has pretty much broken to smitherines by quitting.
And here I sit, now utterly ruined and broken by Annie Rehearsals, and with my parents sickly angry at me over how I didn't tell them that my band concert was planned for today until today. Little by little, my days have gotten worse...
It's been almost a year since this began. I will end this accordingly on the same day...
I don't know who to pray to anymore... I've never prayed much anyway... but something, please bring news of a better future- I sure as hell need it. I want to finish this on a lighter note, so that you can read and almost believe it ended happily ever after.
But we all know, happily ever after is an oxymoron.
My Grandma died.
I was there in the hospital with her a few minutes before they decided to cut her off of life support. I am unsettled with the fact that they do not know what disease killed her. Antidotes that were meant to at least cause something to occur didn't even function.
So today, I remember my Grandmother and all the good she was in my life. I hope they can find a cause (maybe her Hodgkin's disease was stronger than they expected). I will remember her always, and I am glad that, the last time I saw her, leaving with William from her house... that I could hug and kiss her goodbye...
I love you Grandma.
Full Band Day
Got up this morning for a big performance for the drumline. It was pretty amazing, because we went to Lewisville and ended up performing in the rain with dots of water popping off our drums. Although we had a bit of a problem making noises with our waterlogged drums, this made for a spectacular visual.
On the bus, Tavia, Kedar, David, Sam and I got together and made some comic strips using Sam's picture phone. They turned out pretty well, especially considering our resources. My favorite was HOLY GRAIL, in which Kedar, David, and I go on a search for the Holy Grail. It's pretty hilarious, especially our limited special effects in which we have to explain that we are at the door of a castle by using a uniform and a bag of chips.
I got back, however, and had a long talk with my father. Dad had, appearantly, deduced that my grades were bad in school without ever ONCE seeing my assignments. He deduced it from an ongoing pattern: if I cannot get him the proper forms for events and notifications, I probably am doing bad in school. Fortunately we figured this out and sorted out the situation.
However, I admit, I discovered I have a problem. This goes beyond most things. I discovered a problem with the Rheneas concept. Because I now have a multiple track mind that has been developing for reasons that may or may not be related to coming of age, I am now having increasing trouble telling myself the truth and making decisions. Ultimately, this means I can think one thing, say another, do something different and not having anything get done. My mind is in a quarrel with itself because of my deep regards for the Rheneas concept.
I simple terms, it is becoming increasingly problematic for me to try and make up my mind. I try and deduce a cause and I can't say wether I'm ignoring an important psychological problems or am just a teenager overblowing simple issues. I begin to suspect one and I want to think the other.
Nonetheless, I have adhered to my belief in Rheneases, and am very happy that I am seeing both sides of the falls.
I am also happy to have had a great final performance of my Chicago Show today for marching band and to have spent some time with my friends.
Ooh, I need to update.
On Wednesday, I showed up for our Halloween Game dressed as Clark Gable. Look for a picture of a guy with a mustache painted on his face playing tenor drums in a suit at JasperHighSchoolBand.com.
Meanwhile, I have found more time to do plays at PCT. I am in a production called The Best Christmas Pageant Ever. I have no idea what it's about, but it sounds like some kind of crazy local play. I'm also in Annie. Rehearsals start tonight.
Tavia and I went to a football game dressed as Trinity and some random Agent, since it was Halloween. It was fun, and I kind of freaked out her friend Samson, who from here out I shall refer to as Drew. I am snacking on some chocolate right now, leftover from my parents stockpile of it that they were supposed to give out to kids, but, like none came.
Meanwhile, Scott and I are firmly in production of a NEW CD starring JERRY KAHN, PRIVATE EYE! It's gonna be some hilarious schiznit. We're in mass production and hoping to incorperate our friends voices/technology into its making. I have already written a polka my dad says is better than some he's heard by grammy-winning writers.
In fact, Dad has decided to give a call to some friends of his in the video-game music buisness... Wish me luck!
"I don't think I'll that."
"What?" I couldn't believe what I was hearing. She'd been so willing to help out earlier.
"My mom wouldn't be alright with me going over to your friend's house, since she doesn't know him."
"You won't have to! We're gonna get a microphone at my house!"
"Oh, well, look," she gave a sigh, "I just won't be able to do this."
No. I couldn't believe this. Something must have gone wrong. She trusted me. Was it her parents? I know I must have done something wrong. What did I do wrong?! Please, help me find the train!
Yeah, I guess the more you read this journal, the more you realize I'm literally obsessed with my relationship with Tavia. So what? Isn't it important that I have a friend like that? In all the world, here is one person I know that, above everything, I can trust.
Last night I debuted my CD at Sam's party. They loved it, especially Jerry Kahn, private eye. Tavia and Dave had already heard it and were big fans. Thomas, my friend, is going to get me some more CD cases to put new copies of the CD in. I gave him an 'autographed' one.
They watched the Matrix Reloaded, which I had seen the week before a million times. Whatever, it was good.
Tryouts went well, I'm sure I made symphonic band, concert 1 at the least. It doesn't concern me too much as long as I am still with them, rehearsing.
I'm writing more music with the computer. Now that I've seen just how much people like the things I write, I'm going to make a lot more music and compile a whole CD. It's getting very, very good. Much better, in fact, than it was when I wrote the first entry in this journal. It has more form, movement, and an all out good feeling. My dad, who is encouraging this, says he'll get me some pro mixing software that I can do more with than the cruddy shareware programs I'm using now.
The new one is a rock/tango. It came out of my head while remembering a Smash Mouth tune and some Mendelssohn I heard a week ago. I don't know what it will be called yet. All I know is its my most dynamic tune yet.
And I watched the car drive away, past the hedges in front of me as I walked, slowly, reminiscing to the door. And, after a few silent moments, it turned the corner and promptly left.
"Something the matter?"
I looked at the figure in the door. "No. Not at all."
Where are my entries?
Ack! Some of my entries are missing! Alright, well I'll fill in on what they said. We got all 1's at UIL, and you can see the footage at Jasperhighschoolband.com. Amazing. I finished up Sirens of Titan by Kurt Vonnegut, and now I have started reading a new book, Cat's Cradle.
Anyways, I recently worked on some music for a 'reflections' contest here in Plano. It is, admitedly, some very good work, and its called Smile. I secretly dedicated it to Tavia, and when she asked me why it was called Smile, I didn't quite tell her the whole secret behind it.
It will be on a Re-release of Abberational Ideosynchrasies, the comedy album we wrote at the beginning of the year.
Along with it will be my 'Guy Noir' detective monolouge, Jerry Kahn, Private Eye. It is an amazing monolouge, based on a dumb rant that I made up a year ago on the way back from Oklahoma rehearsals. I think its hilarious and clever with a touch of the randomness Scott and I love. It is also a bittersweet story of a detective in New York.
In it, he falls in love with the beautiful new secretary to his Detective Agency. When one of the airducts in the building fails, he goes to repair as to impress her. He throws up in the airduct, which smells like a comode, and it seeps throughout the building. When he rushes down to clean it up, he misses the room with the coffee machine, and the secretary is drinks the barf-coffee, which had chunks of peanuts Jerry had been eating earlier that day in it. The secretary is allergic to peanuts and goes to the hospital. She then quits, not able to trust his agency. Cruel, ironic, mellow, and yet, astoundingly, a beautiful story.
I plan on debuting this at my friend Sam's birthday party this Friday. My friend Ed Lie, king of Pole-land, also plans on making a cartoon of it if he can get a copy. Awesome!
What I'm Reading
Marching program is getting better... but the teachers, of course, are getting pickier.
I think its getting very obvious to everyone that I have a really close relationship to Tavia. They are suspicious of me. I mean, I mention that I've had disturbing dreams, and they immediately assume that Tavia was in it... er... yeah...
Either way, that's I dream I'm going to interpret. This is one of those signs I've been waiting for. I have to read my parents' Carl Jung books so I can figure it out. This dream needs to make sense... or I will live a deeply troubled life.
In the meantime, I've started reading Kurt Vonnegut. Fascinating, almost sick writer. I love it. It's Douglas Adams at a new level.
Images of the day... vague... clear... all sorts...
My own bathroom... a yellow bus... tesselating sorts of triangle shapes... a quarter half covered in water... and Tavia... Strange how images can come together and make dreams.
I told Tavia about a strange dream I had of her. It was on a train, much like the yellow bus I had rode during the day. There were three cabins, the door hanging open to the middle one. It was a bathroom, my own, dimly lit with a small marble sink and hard tile floor. Tavia, laying on the ground, was in sort of a sick, almost dead state, lying in a puddle of water, with a tesselating rash on her face.
At least, that's what I told her. I was too afraid of some of the disturbing images I saw in the dream. It wasn't on her face I saw the rash... it was her exposed chest... and I was aiding her... I lifted her up on to a counter in my arms, trying to treat her...
I feel so dishonest not telling her the whole story... but it's just, so, so wrong. I'd rather not hurt her with it.
Our marching band did well at Pre-UIL today. I wonder what our score was?
The whole thing was a blast from the past for me, I still remember going to the stadium when I was younger, watching the whole show with my mom... My god... I followed in the footsteps of what I saw that day. I can't believe it...
I am living my dreams. I am! My God, is this a wonderful world we live in!
Everyone had fun today. Tavia used her cell phone to take a picture of like, a bunch of us pretending to be gay... that was a weird photo.
Tavia's just so affectionate and A-OK... I mean... I just wish there were a girl like her for me...
One of these I'm going to write, as sort of a Will, apologies and thank-you's to everyone for everything that's happenned. Man, will I have to thank her a lot.
On the bus, I was getting some ideas for music by listening to some Savage Garden tunes. To tell the truth, I really don't know anything about modern tastes and pop music. I was raised by LP's. It's good to listen around, no matter how good John Serry and Weather Report were...
Ah. Good. Samson is A-OK. He even showed up to our rehearsal in the morning to help some sections out...
Today, I heard we have to do something called a 'reflection' as part of a school project. There are four categories, Composition, Painting, Photography, and Music. I have to do two, a composition for English and anything for Humanities.
I'm going to write a song. A good one. A really good one. I am going to sequence it and sing along with it. And, for once, I will have a tune I can truly be proud of.
Also, Tavia conducted some expiraments on my hair today, just curious what my hair would look like spike. Girls like it, but I just don't. It seems so strange to me, and I really don't see any reason to have hair like that other than to get attention.
I won't do it... but of course, if Tavia really wants to put some water in my hair every so often, so be it. Besides, all this year I've found that my easy-goingness has attracted a lot of bright young girls. Crazy...
How Goes the Show
Amazingly enough, no matter how little I see my friend Scott, we never cease to amaze eachother. Now a member of JROTC, he complains to me about how long my hair is, saying its his duty as a crew cut military style man...
So I cut my shaggy, short hair. It looks awesome.
Tuesday we had a depressingly bad marching show. Amazingly, we were still able to fool an audience, no matter how awful the show got.
Tavia's mom has some funny footage of it, including me going directly into the camera near the end. There's some photage of the show at JasperHighSchoolBand.com. Good stuff. You can hear me yell "DUT DUT DUT DUT" right in the midst of 25 or 6 to 4.
I was kinda pissed off that night though. One thing that hurts me is that I'm always missing everyone everytime I look at a photograph. It's a shame when I actually go to see them and they're not really there.
That day at school, it seemed like I couldn't talk to anyone I wanted to, that I was unable to have a conversation with anyone. Man, that really did feel awful. It just made me feel like I had been cheated out on. Tavia, of course, always seems to know how to make me feel alright again, and came to the rescue with a bright mind to talk to and a bit of music to listen to.
Tavia, however, is not doing so well today. I sit here, waiting to go to a drawing lesson, but appearantly there has been a horrible issue. Her best friend Samson has found himself in a 4 car pile up carcrash and escaped with only wiplash... but he WON'T go see the doctor...
She's not doing so well... I hope the two of them are OK. Samson really is a nice guy...
In the mean time, I currently am reteaching myself how to sing and doing crazy impressions of a Black evangelist, a Scottish astronaut, and many other characters too help keep everyone cheered up. I gladly get out of bed every morning if it means a chance for me to make my friends smile.
Well, yesterday was the big drumline competition. I do admit, our own performance was kind of disappointing, but at least I was able to watch a great show (41 drumlines!!!).
Got to hang out with many friends while I was there including David, Kate, Ashley, and Tavia. Ah, the Sophomores I know...
I did unite with someone from McKinney. An old friend named Ryan from Slaughter. It was truly amazing to run across him. I looked, and I think I really did cross over his picture in the school photos...
I really got to spend some good time back there with Tavia. We were really able to get into some deep thought back there. I really do like her a lot, and sure wish there were a lot more people with as much sense as her.
We're close. Not that close, but I really enjoy time with her. Especially those drawing lessons.
Turns out the reason she was so angry at the beginning of the year was because she woke up every morning missing her best friend Sampson, who she met while he was a Sophomore and she was a Freshman. That's pretty sad. Me, everyday I cannot bare to look at photographs of my friends. They make me miss them, no matter how nearby they are.
She wishes she could act and likes to draw animé. I wish I could draw animé and she likes to act. We both wish we could dance and like drumline.
Ah, the friends you'll meet...
Still typing away at Danny Van Doren, not to mention my newest songs. Little by little, I step out of minimalism and into true songwriting.
The Rehearsal Today
Ah well. Didn't make it into jazz band. Jordan did however! Couldn't happen to a nicer guy!
Today, however, in preparation for tomorrows Drumline competition, and for our Pre-UIL competition in a week, we had a 3 hour rehearsal despite the fact that we had school off. Lot's of Fun... although drumline was bored due to how much time was spent by the rest of the band marking their spots.
Drumline is the most productive group in the band, despite how stupid some of its members can be.
In the meantime, we rehearsed, loaded up the truck, and I had a nice big, gut-bomb of a lunch. Tavia is being really open with me now. Nice. She gets by really well, even when... er... yeah...
We got really bored, so we started playing rock paper siscors with a twist! Everytime someone wins, he gets to slap the looser! It's pretty weird though, but its fun to do it in slow motion.
I also taught Tavia to waltz today while she was standing on the field. Maybe there are some benefits to those humiliating days at the theater. I know I'll never forget Oliver, Oklahoma, West Side Story, You're a Good Man Charlie Brown, or Star Shine Diner. Wow, have I really been in 5 shows? That's amazing...
I have volunteered to help out at the drumline competition after the show. I am going to run across the McKinney drumline.
My god, I wonder, what will happen if I reunite with an old friend though? Third grade is so long ago. I will just be a vague memory to anyone there who knows me.
Yes, I went to school in McKinney before 4th Grade. Wouldn't it be something to find an old friend from Slaugther or Burkes?
Life in McKinney though is rough. I fear the worst for each child that I left there so long ago. They had to grow up in some of the worst conditions available to the children of the metroplex...
They will truly have changed so much. Will it be easy to meet them again, like reuniting with Tavia? Or will it be something out of a Sci-Fi episode?
Today I had my second Animé lesson. I think I'm actually getting somewhere with this. Tavia asked me if I was serious about it or if I was just doing it to please her (probably thinks I'm just trying to make her like me). It's interesting, fun, and I sooner or later will get the hang of this.
We got tryout music for the Jasper Jazz Band on, like, Wednesday. I basically spent ALL of last night practicing and all of this morning too. I only got half a page, but I REALLY impressed our band director. He's only letting in three drummers... and I think I'm one of them...
No matter how crappy a job you've done, make sure every inch of the crap you do is your best work.
A Drawing Lesson
The drawing lesson with Tavia went well. I am having to go with the excuse that I practiced percussion, but my parents are suspicious of me spending time at a girl's house anyway.
It was simple. She outlined a few simple rules to drawing a face in animé, which I now consider to be the art of the simplification of the human anatomy. Rather interesting. I still, however, believe that there is something more to simplification of the body when it comes to the size of the eyes...
Fun lesson. I did, however, have a strange daydream later. I was sitting in a room where, like, instead of wall paper, the walls of this entire room were covered in butcher paper taped to the walls, and there were hundreds of loose sheets too. And lo and behold, there I was drawing hundreds of eyes over and over on it...
I think the people who invented animé were a lot more like Mondrian than ordinary cartoonists. Mondrian was always searching for the perfect color, the perfect line, and the perfect form. He'd sit in his studio for hours, making measurements on his canvases, drawing black lines, and if he didn't like a line, he'd either painstakingly erase it or throw the canvas out and start over. Was it madness?
No. It was perfection.
Well, I managed to raise my grades. Yes, High School IS hard, but I have managed to raise my lowest average by 11 points. Beat that, er... no one in particular...
So, we had our first marching show. Awesome in a nutshell. Although we had humorous and scary mistakes (people a few steps out of place, a small drum collision) we actually pulled it off.
And as I watched to video during class, I finally realized something... I finally have something I am truly proud to identify myself with. This Drumline, this Band, and this school.
My friend, Tavia, a Sophomore who was in 8th grade at my school when I was in 7th, has decided she would like to teach me to draw Animé in my spare time. I find this pretty amazing; up until a week ago, I felt like I wasn't allowed to speak to her.
So what am I doing now? Trying to get some photographs of me in funny costumes and writing my top ten favorite movies of all time list for school.
Now, if you'll all excuse me, I have a train to catch...
You Are Here
Ah, the joy of high school. How much time is mine, how much isn't, how much is in between...
Today I drew up a little bookmark on an index card for my recent reading assignment. It's a picture of the Milky Way Galaxy sitting gently against the infinite cosmos of other stars and worlds. And somewhere, in the swirling vortex that is our galaxy out of the many millions that are there, there is a tiny little X with and arrow pointing at it, and the caption reads...
You Are Here
Everyone who thinks they're so damn important, such as Bill O'Reily, George Bush, my friends, and even me are just minor little measurements somewhere in the comparitively vast region that X covers...
All my friends think they're so damn important. They have begun to realize that everything is a statement, but now they all believe that if their statement is good enough, that subordinates the statements of others to being minor comments.
Here I am. I have realized that not all people want to subordinate me, despite my own paranoia, and that the 'whole world' isn't against me.
Everyone complains so much about why we can't see it the way they do. Well, we can't. We're NOT them. It is their responsibility to get it across to us in a manner that is civilized an makes some sense.
With that, let's move on to some specific information. I had that talk with Lahnan. Very dissappointing. We at least talk to eachother, but I think she is still very uncomfortable with me, like I'm trying to MAKE her do everything I want.
Meanwhile, as the 'world is destroyed' around all my other friends and I watch them quarrel amongst themselves, I feel this longing obsession to help them out. Nonetheless, it seems none of them want me to have anything to do with their lives. It has made me feel very discluded, but I realize that in the end, its their parties and they can cry if they want to.
And besides, even if the world was destroyed, wouldn't it just be less than a fraction of a fraction of a fraction of a fraction of a fraction of a fraction of a percent of part of that little X on the map of our cosmos?
By The Lake
On Saturday I left and stayed a few days at Lake Kiowa. Fun fun fun for everyone. I beat Wario World with the help of my cousin William.
Saw great great great grandpa's journal. Wrote like this. 5 words for grandpa's birth. How nice.
Weird, that journal was. It talked about olden times, such as my Great Grandpa at age 8 riding on Great Great Great Grandpa's cart and covering the fields in manure for fertilizer. This was 99 years ago today, mind you.
Had a lot of fun at our first band party! It was at Whirly Ball, we went there and played that twisted combo of Polo and Jaili for a while. Renewed relationships with friends there (ah, the old folk). I especially liked getting the chance to announce in the skybox. That was a hoot! "Car number 7, you're a moron!" If only Scott had stayed with us...
I thought I was paranoid at first, but the continuously disturbing thoughts of Lahnan seem to have something to do with me. I need to help. I'm going to quit wussing out.
I Hate Writing Titles Before I Write The Entry
Well, two weeks of school have gone by. Star Shine Diner is actually over...
School is actually much easier than I thought it would be. However, I still have trouble marching around with those heavy Quads on all the time...
I've managed to bond with the drumline, and even stranger have managed to finally get a friendship with the silent Ashley, who, when in 8th grade, rarely spoke. Tavia, who was also in 8th grade when I was in 7th, is slowly become less... er... angry at me. I don't know what happenned to her between then and now, but she's alot angrier than before.
Friends came quick, and really, I only have to work a little harder to get outstanding grades.
Seriously, these two weeks were successful.
Many of my friends have me deeply troubled. Rebecca, a very, er, bright girl I know, has been involved in self mutilation through cutting and is falling slowly into a serious state of depression. Many kids are having troubles with their classes.
What deeply disturbs me is Lahnan. She has been incresingly dismal in the past few days. There is something seriously wrong with her. I can't know though... she won't let me.
Everytime I post on this journal, I skim through my past entries. Some of the things Lahnan and I went through disturb me slightly. The fact that Lahnan isn't speaking to me fills me with fear.
I have to confront her. It's the only way for her to get over what happenned between us. It was the only way Aarthi ever...
...God, has it really been a year since that incident?
Wow... things I should explain. But not now. Now I must celebrate today instead of live in failures of the past...
Soon, though, soon I must confront Lahnan. I have to help her get over this. Neither of us will be lifted from those events those months ago if I don't...
Tommorrow, School Starts.
But not just any school. This is the passage from Middle School to high school, where every concept that I speak of and is taken for granted will be yet more evident. People who you see going off the deep end in 8th grade will either have to shape up fast or be left behind.
I have my summer project ready. I have my planner, my pencils, my locker, and my schedual. Everything seems safe.
But it won't be. Every second I am in that building, the teachers will be evaluating me, trying to get impressions of me. If anything goes wrong tommorrow, I may be doomed to face what happenned many times over. What I do tommorrow will be a sample of the work I do for the rest of the year.
I expect no help or support or grief from anyone, not even my peers. I expect to walk into Spanish and not speak a single word of English. I expect to spend two hours having every little lattitude and longitude coordinate of every place they find important pumped into my head in Geometry. I expect us to cut to the chase, that is, the organs of the frogs and their identifications in Biology. I expect no mercy for mistakes in Band. I expect every undotted 'i' in English class to deduct points. I expect the term 'Garbage in, Garbage out' to take no heed in Multimedia. I expect myself to cry out 'Oh, the Humanities of it All!'
But most importantly, I expect everything that Middle School lacked, because everything I haven't done will come.
Get set, everything is about to go up in flames.
Everyone is giving up their hopes and dreams. It's to early for that. They haven't visited their first day of High School.
Often I am naive and too trusting, but if people don't believe things are going to happen in life due to a few setbacks... That's just dumb.
I thought I'd never ride that damn bike... and yet...
This makes me realize another thing, don't put off your hopes and dreams. I have to finish Danny Van Doren.
You know, someday, I am going to let my friends, even the ones I've had my darkest feelings about, read this. Oh the embarrassment. And yet, it will feel settling.
It's strange, seeing kids from school and kids from theater in different places... it's like having universes colide. Ah, quite strange indeed.
Today I registered for School. It looks like a big year ahead of me, and I hope I can keep up with it. I got to see Aarthi for the first time in months, but many friends, especially those from my birthday, I have yet to revisit.
A while ago I called Aarthi and had a more personal discussion on what happenned with Lahnan. She thoroughly expected me to be suicidal after what happenned, and I found that strange. Sometimes I think my friends really do fear that I am insane, or at least ready to go out of my way to do something totally reckless. I guess they just fear the unknown.
Dead and Alive Again
I returned to the second Drumline Camp at the beginning of the week. So far I had been enjoying my 2 weeks off from acting.
Drumline camp was hard. Not harder than I thought it would be, I thought I was prepared to do it though. I thought so, and I overshot my abilities again. I started the camp very weak, and simple marching exercises were hard. On the second day I nearly fainted on a light march through the field. However, by the 4th day I had walked many miles, and though I ached and lost my style, I still marched on, unable to stop.
I think they were right saying that that camp was where the boys were turned into men. Orders became additions to the 10 Commandments. The marching became our school, and our breaks became our instrumental practices. Our punishments and waterbreaks became equally worshipped as breaks from carrying 40 pounds on our backs and legs.
By the end of it, I had outdone football players when it came to sheer physical labor. And still, I am as "skinny as a beanpole." I came close a few times, almost dangerously close to losing it, but it was worth it.
My drumming career was dead and alive again during that camp, and now the easy part begins... High School. Funny description. It looks like a silent enemy, however old friends, new friends, and some friends from acting as well will be there (some which I will have to acquaint with the rest of the world, due to homeschooling).
And speaking of actors, the other day I returned after being dead for a week to the theater. Strangely enough everything was the same, cute, and almost underrated place it was before. None of them seemed any wiser, or dumber for that matter, than before. Funny, you move and watch others stand... kinda fun.
We did the absolute best job of performing Star Shine Diner ever. And though I hear how wonderful my double casted counterpart Daniel is (grr...) I believe his 'cute' performance did not outdo mine, which was true to the character.
I have sat at the computer, typing up a story day by day, one that will culminate my beliefs on middle school so that I may leave it behind with all the wisdoms of the enviornment sorted out. I still find myself deeply attatched to the building, the people, and even the motives of both love and hate that ran it. I think if I can finally sort out my understanding of it in this story, maybe I will be able to leave it alone in memory.
The story's lesson I have thought hard about. Middle School is not the place to teach one about real love, so the story doesn't cover the topic. No, Middle Schoolers do not have enough sense to experiance a real love.
I want to say something about the differences and elitism in the social pecking order of Middle School... I want to say something about the human character... But mostly I want to tell people to be who they really are at all costs.
The story has a Shakespearian plot complete with foolish lovers, unmoralistic characters, and mistaken identity. All it needs now is to be written.
The names Danny Van Doren and Denny Shoemaker shall live forever...
How Are You Doing
Yesterday I was calling one of my friends to see if they could come to a performance of Star Shine Diner. Her name's Jamie... I think she has a thing for me, but I'm not so sure if I like her...
I was talking on the phone with her and her voice was such a strange thing to hear. As I hear all of my friends' voices on the phone I suddenly am pulled back to school, looking at their masked faces again.
I talked to her on the phone, and I realized that I couldn't picture her face anymore. It's useless to look in the yearbook... they've all changed in my view. It's just, very unsettling.
I realize that anyone who reads this blog probably finds me to be a depressing person. Am I? I don't feel depressed. I feel alive! I feel no hate towards any of my friends, I feel a care. I feel a need to watch out for them...
I learned so much about how to think about things from my father... but I must use those thoughts without trying to control them. Ah, my thoughts are dwadling and I need to sort them out...
People are closing their blogs because they all want to write for themselves rather than other people. They just need a private blog, that's all. If they want to write a journal... write it! Write it in any manner you want... but make it private if you don't want to offend anyone.
This is, after all, a world where everything you do can offend someone...
Enough. I am doing very well today. I am also writing a short story called The Irrisistable Danny Van Doren, a story on girls and shallowness. It will be a slightly romantic comedy with a plot worthy of Shakespeare himself (if only I could write as well as he!).
It was so simple...
I knew it from the start. I felt it. She gave off waves like that...
Lahnan is suicidal. She's not dead yet, but I fear the most for her.
Lahnan has had a bad cut as a teenager when it comes to family life. Parents who have almost disowned her, a mid-life move to another town (much as I once had to do), a huge pair of shoes to fill when it comes to honorable academic skill, and other things...
And now I sit here, trying to reassure her not to kill herself because deep inside I do care about her. I am trying to reassure her not to do the worst.
I want to tell her she has so much to live for, but all in all the phrase sounds stupid in itself.
She needs to be able to go to sleep and assure herself that she has a reason to wake up tommorrow. What reasons can she give herself? Maybe she wants to make her website a hit community, but that's not much. Maybe she wants to be a great singer, but I doubt it.
Appearantly she doesn't actually believe she has two parents that love her very much. I hope they do. I hope her parents aren't as scummy as Lahnan says they are and that Lahnan has mistaken their guidance for unsatisfaction.
Maybe she just wakes up believing that no one wants her around? God, that's awful. Maybe I can prove that people want her around? What about all her friends? What about the people she does service to with her website? What about all the people who she has loved, or for that matter, have loved her? Has she forgotten them? How could she?!
She's probably just selfish. Maybe she just wants more. Maybe she just wants more than has been given. She wildly denies herself to be self centered, because for her to put herself down all the time, how can she be?
Bullshit. She's selfish in her own ways just as everyone else is.
But I can't focus on that. No, I have to find something, something in this world, some sort of life giving inspiration in life... But what?
How can I convince her not to do her own undoing if se doesn't care about all those things?!
Lahnan, if you are really as good of a person as you say you are, you won't kill yourself...
Today I re-played Riven. It was actually very interesting, because I knew more about the game than I did the first time I played it. Since then, I have gathered specific dates on when events in the game occurred and discovered that it is set in the year 1831! I also had some fun playing the Riven Movie Viewer to watch the 'easter eggs' in the game, especially the one where the actor of Gehn sings a bit of opera. The alternate endings are very creepy to look at...
I also, recently, ran into an issue Lahnan had over blogging. She did not like how people judged blogs by their pretty layouts and how the user was therefore judged by it as well... She went on a rampage about this 'elitism' for a while then subdued after she read someone else criticizing her ideas and realized that they were not thought out well...
The real question the whole matter led me to is this, what is the point of a blog anyway? Why take a diary and instead put it on the internet where everyone can see and read it?
I did it because I just plain have a problem with handwriting. Typing allows me to revise and rethink without wasting graphite, ink, or time. I also did it in response to a sudden awakening of new thinking after the resolved relationship with Aarthi...
Others want to tell their friends about their lives are going, and most of what is written down becomes an inside joke. People take those 'what thing are you' tests on the internet and then post the results in the blog. They do a bunch of stuff, but there is something fundamentally wrong with it all... They aren't writing for themself!
Isn't that the point of a journal? Isn't that the point of writing? If they write for others instead, if they pander to the wanderers of the internet just for hits, doesn't that just mean that the blog isn't of any true quality?
Riven is a game where you rely on reading people's journals to solve puzzles... They wrote real journals... real journals for only themselves to see and review their thoughts on... Despite the fact that the journals are fictional, the passion expressed in the journals is an example of what we should be writing for.
The journal is a place for dumping feelings, ideas, and philosophies. There may be someone reading this journal right now... maybe... it doesn't actually matter to me... Just as long as this journal is here will I be able to review my thoughts...
I was in theater the other day. It was before one of the shows of Star Shine Diner. We were having fun, restyling peoples' hair for the show, talking about ideas for it. It was just fun.
There's this rather self-centered kid there named John. John is not liked very much by the kids there. But, the kids all agreed on one thing, he needed friends. They all said that they she treat everyone as a friend because no one deserves to be alone in the theater.
The comment, it made me cry. Because I knew none of them truly liked me, but this statement showed that they really cared about everyone in the theater... even me. Me! I have never felt like they all truly cared that much... but for them to say that everyone there should be treated like a friend...
I joined a message board where some of my friends from school posted every so often. I couldn't recognize the way they spoke. They had so little respect for eachother. They quarrelled and demeaned eachother in their arguments, not as I thought they should do.
Should I really go back to school? To a place where people's inner morals are destroyed by their own self-centered emotions and angst?
Now I know why I don't recognize their pictures in the yearbook. It's because I'm looking at them differently! I have found a Rheneas worth more than all else I have found: 'friendship' versus brotherhood.
It really is amazing. All my life I thought that what I wanted was more friends. In reality I wanted more out of my friends... That I wanted a certain something out of them that people at theater had. And now I have tasted what it is. Brotherhood.
Will I ever gain this from my friends? I don't know. Brotherhood came amongst us at theater because we worked in unity as I said before... So, until a Unity can be appreciated, my friends will remain as light acquaintances.
Last night I looked at the yearbook in the middle of the night because I felt lonely. I looked and suddenly I was struck with sadness. It felt like I almost didn't want to see them again.
But what of the sheer emotional struggle of being in theater? The nerve-wrecking hours, the sheer criticism of the teachers, the annoyance of the over all unnaceptance of the actors. And yet, that night I felt closer to them than to the kids at school, like I had grown into them. And despite the annoyance of being around people who whine and act like such control freaks... I'd rather be with them. I feel that everytime I go to the theater I make progress, and yet my hours at school go to waste...
I looked at the faces of all my friends, and I didn't feel the friendliness anymore. I could hardly recognize some of them. And the fact was, I didn't want to see them.
What happenned to them? What's wrong with them? Why aren't they the same? Are they not brighter and more intelligent than most of the kids at theater? Are they not more successful than them in school? Are they not more human than these kids?
And then it hits me. What does their sheer knowledge, scholarly success, and any element of their character make them better than these kids in any way? At theater I have found a group, who no matter who they end up with or how they see eachother, work together as a team. And this is something that the people at school lack. People at school simply cannot TOLERATE eachother. I found that I could not stand their sheer intolerance of everyone, especially myself.
This is a world where we must truly work together. We must forget our differences, and why? Because if we cannot unite and tolerate these differences, we cannot make progress. And that's missing in school. Tolerance is missing, and with it we loose progress and unity.
So I will continue to be me and will learn to live with everyone at school. It's my duty.
It is not our job to change ourselves to suite eachother, no matter how many people whine and complain to eachother. It's everyone's job to tolerate eachother and work together, helping everyone along the way. It's not easy to do so, but you have to, because unity and progress depend on it. And without those things, our world shall turn to nothing.
This I have learned by performing Star Shine Diner for little kiddies for the first time. It's hard to get them to laugh at any of the jokes because they just plain don't get them.
It's primitive, yes, but it makes anyone laugh (if they're not too stiff) to have a clever bit of stupidity and dynamic change. For instance... one gag that gets by in the show is when I put on the jacket and act 'cool' in a very stupid way. Another is when the person at the counter leaps into the back stage yelling at a rat and smashing it with a broom.
But, behold, some people go for the more complex and cleverly done comedy. I have simply found the most tasteless sence.
I guess it's that side of the falls for ya.
Charlie Brown is over. Darn. Twas a good play.
It's been such a rough summer, doing these shows. I sometimes wonder if the sheer emotional and psychological stress is worth it. But when you're up there standing spotlight... you know....
So I got a bit better at drumset doing it to. That's good to know. I have done a gig and it will look good on my resume.
Yesterday I did another performance of You're A Good Man, Charle Brown. This time, not only was I Snoopy, but I was performing for my friends Matt and Scott. It's kind of weird though. The first time I came to see a production at the theater, Scott was on stage, and I was in the audiance with Matt. Ever since, we were both in plays together. It's kind of weird being up there without him.
Anyway, now for my essay on 'the E-mail.'
I like to visit Bob and George. The comics are about the great Megaman series, and I laugh at most of them. One day, I thought I'd submit some fancomics. I'd have to say I did a lot of work on them, and most are pretty funny. But... ever since I sent that E-mail, I have NOT recieved a single E-mail in my In-box. Not even one.
For days now I sit in agony before the computer screen, clicking away, checking my email every 5 minutes. Still, still, NOTHING happens. My mind is absorbed in the brilliant colors on screen, only to hear silence.
It's not depressing. It's just WRONG. I mean, I don't even recieve my freaking SPAM anymore! Where are the viruses, the chainletters?! Agh!!!
And, I still have hope that sooner or later, Bob and George will reply and give me a big friendly yes. Sooner or later my friend will E-mail me, asking what classes I have next year. Til then, I am waiting on the Europe Bridge.
Amazing how fast time flies. In one month I've gone from Windows 98 to XP, from worried sick to confident with You're a Good Man Charlie Brown.
So what happenned? Well, to tell you the truth, it was pretty awesome. I've never gotten a better role and this was perfect.
Although there WERE some mishaps. There has NOT been a single show where the scenes were in the correct order. And after all, it does get pretty confusing with the order they are in. People come on stage and recite lines from the next scene and we have to go with it, really, it's very confusing.
My drumming improves with every show I drum in. I figure out where to put my kit, how to optimize the setup, more drum patterns... I still find myself struggling with Tempo though. I do the best I can, but without a conductor telling both the Piano and the Drums how fast to go, it gets difficult. The Piano Player is very good at her job, but I have trouble following her tempo changes. Sometimes she has to skip around in the music too because the SINGER does something weird. I can see why most serious musicians have problems with being around singers. When I sing, I make sure to be as polite as I can, musically and socially, and never blame the musicians. A singer and a musician: that is a Rheneas.
Over-all, a top notch show. A lot of my friends are coming for my show tonight... It might just be a packed house. I love it, the applause, the sighing, the ooh-ing and ah-ing, and just the over-all happiness in the room.
I love to dance. The problem is, I know very VERY little about it. So, whenever I try, unless I've done it before, NOTHING comes out.
So, anyway, an odd thing happenned. In the play, I am supposed to do a jazzy dance for the number 'Suppertime.' Unfortunately, the choreographer, Abbey Drake, was worn out by the time it came to teach me a dance and told me to go freestyle.
I had no idea what to do. I've never really done any solo dancing. Once again, NOTHING came out. Nonetheless, she and my double (we are double-casted, making him not an understudy, but a second cast) kept trying to make me come up with it myself. I kept watching them, and they kept asking me to do some dance.
Let me tell you something; all my life I have watched and listened to my mother, one of the finest flute teachers in the area, play the flute. Every day she teaches lessons and I hear her bark at the students for doing things wrong. She'll play it all perfectly. I have seen more flute-playing than many do in their lives...
Nonetheless, I STILL can't play flute! In this sense, how am I supposed to dance without proper guidance?
So, luckily, it seems they are finally going to come up with a set dance for me as they have with the other kids. I just hope they don't think I'm stubborn.
So, yeah, my birthday was on June 1st. My birthday party was really cool, a lot of friends came (who I know from various scenes). I personally had a great time having them over, and the presents (mainly consisting of giftcards) don't matter to me nearly as much as the fact that they could come over. My friend Richard was nice enough to drop off a present which I opened that day.
Coincidentally, Aarthi and Lahnan could not come. Odd.
I finally understood why my mom was saving up all these hollow egg shells, appearantly they were as to be filled with confetti and cracked upon my head. My friends had fun doing that... and I think there's some still stuck in my hair!!!
Not that I have much hair. My dad cut it a lot shorter than I wanted it... luckily, my friends did not notice.
Rehearsals for You're a Good Man Charlie Brown are heating up. The show is due next week and we are nowhere near done. I have a lot to work on because of my drumset assignment. Nonetheless, the Director is ever thankful that I will be there to keep up the beat.
I continue to wonder if that was it, if all the signals were pointing to that odd relationship with Lahnan I had. I mean, what did happen all those months ago at the Percussion Spring Concert? What happenned that day that was so important?
Were my original assumptions right, the wait for High School? That would make sense, and I'll tell you what, it was that concert that partially turned me on to tenor drums. Maybe romance awaits me in High School? Is there some meaning I have been missing to the whole relationship with Lahnan? What about the earlier signs, like the ducks flying north and the sign that says: Caution, Not Much Ahead? What does it all mean?
Enough is enough. I need something more literal. I will find another sign. Let's see, where can I find a sign?
When will I catch a train?
Piano was once my thing... but... I started to basically loose it. Now days, I think guiltfully about how I am not playing it as much as I should. Nonetheless, I had enough time to learn the Charlie Brown Theme Song: Linus and Lucy by Vince Gauraldi.
During show rehearsals for You're A Good Man Charlie Brown a lot has happenned. The show can go from something to nothing to something in a matter of days. I, with no chior or voice lesson experience, am learning to sing so that I can sing in Suppertime and the other songs.
However, today was special. Our director was trying to teach us what we would hear in intermissions by playing it on the piano... He was trying to play a short segment from Linus and Lucy, but he had no idea how to play the piano. I knew it, so I played the section (with a bit of unstableness) but nonetheless everyone applauded! Later, I played them the whole thing. More applause.
The director figured out that I was a drummer and, get this, has asked me to play drums for the show! Is that not cool or WHAT?!
You realize, however, that this means not only diving headfirst into my drumset book, but also figuring out how to carry it all around. I am having a screwy time getting out my Tenor drums, much less lugging a drumset around. Hopefully my dad will figure out where he can at least borrow some of these cases... which likely can cost a total of $400 (oh crud!). I also have to dive headfirst into all my books on playing the drumset AND learn to play by ear! Plus, I have a rehearsal on my Birthday this Sunday! ARGHH!!!
Ah, but what the hey? I'd rather play than not play. It's a Rheneas... It's a train to catch! Here we go!
What have I learned this Week Anywayz?
First off, (in reply to Lahnan) if you have any hints at all the girl you like does not cut it, don't even think about liking her. It just makes you hate yourself for not admitting it before.
Second of all, Quad-toms are FRICKIN HEAVY. Yeah, I have tried out for Drumline... and made Quads! I love it... but the ratio in body weight (quads:me) is 40:101, not a good combination. Oh well, by the time I'm really far into it, I think I'll straighten out (and aquire muscles).
Third, if you know a girl likes you... invite her to your dang birthday party! She won't bite...
Fourth, 1 Double Quarter Pounder is enough! Need I say more?
5, eventually... and I mean eventually... Super Mario Brothers Headquarters will be updated!
I guess I'm hurt inside.
Whatever. I recieved a large wound at a party 2 nights ago. I wasn't able to swim... no matter. One of them was kind enough to use, like, 9 bandaids on me. I had a bit of fun there.
Until Lahnan gave me the poetry.
The severe feeling of emptiness hurts. It rattles my head. And I guess my judgements have been a bit harsh. Nonetheless, I still feel anger at my friends' actions.
I don't know what forgiveness may come and go... but... for now I am an empty man. For now, I need not love anyone but those who I trust, my family. I am a free man now. For 2 years now, I have had crushes inside. Now, I have no affection for anyone.
Until then, it's just a long wait on the Europe Bridge.
And I guess now I can see the falls.
Let me Go Over this
For a long time I had a crush on Aarthi. Then, I said it to her. She didn't like me. We were silent to eachother for so long, but finally we talked it over and could be friends again. I felt happy... slightly twisted though. I started this blog because of it.
Her friend, Lahnan, I have known for a while. She eventually revealed to me she loved me. I thought it over for a while, and I said it to her face I loved her back.
Well, you don't know what happenned between then and this post.
She changed her mind. She ditched me for the chance at someone who I knew not to love her. So I guess her love was something I didn't need. But, unlike Aarthi, she can't say it to my face. No. She needs poetry and other crap. Screw poetry. I don't need it. Poetry is not life: it is a way of looking at it. She wants me to settle for it. She won't even explain it. Nor will Aarthi, or anyone else who has read it. They refuse to interpret such.
Oh, did I mention when I read it, all that comes out is bullshit?
I don't want to talk to either of them until they explain, apologize, and recognize me for being intelligent.
BECAUSE IT SEEMS LIKE NO ONE DOES
I have seen both sides of the falls. Only one of them is worth shit. It's the one I'm on.
Life on the Europe Bridge
I want to be angry at something... Someone... but there is nothing I can be angry at. I search for someone to blame for it... but... I CAN'T! THERE IS NO RELIEF! I AM ANGRY AND CANNOT VENT IT AT ANYTHING!!!
I am being crushed by it... I am losing all sense of how life is to be lived. I AM NOT FEELING LIKE MYSELF AND I CAN'T FIGURE OUT HOW TO BE ME!
I'll never forget that lady... waving from the train... Damnit. Damn it all. WHO THE SHIT WAS SHE WAVING TO.
I'd fill everyone in on everything else that has happenned in life if I could only figure out how to look at it. I can't see it...
I CANNOT SEE THE WATERFALLS.
Loss and Gain
I lost everything I needed this week. My Charlie script, a rehearsal of charlie brown, my homework, everything. And somehow, somehow I managed to gain it all back. I admit, I am still missing my copy of Anne Frank Remembered... But I did find my 3 weeks missing basketball at the Theater... I think it's a sign... After all, if I can see a sign in a bunch of gulls flying by while I make a joke, I guess this may be one too.
And the girl? Twice I missed her at the end of school, but on Thursday I asked her... "Would it be alright if I loved you?" She said yes. She has already like me... but... we're not quite to the point of being classified as a pair. But whatever... I will always know I had courage enough to say something like that myself for the first time... and I guess she will finally know someone loves her...
And I guess that's it. Today? Today is the final West Side Story performance. It turns out to be my 'on' night. Good God, this is the last time I'll see most of these kids. I'm doing the summer stuff, and then that's it. The oldest ones will finally go off to college... Some will move, some quit, you never really know. I will come back only after the fall, but then I don't even know. I think the summer will be the only place for me. Who knows?
I think I need to say something to sum the week up. I think the people who hate life, the ones who commit suicide, the ones who do all these horrible things... they are the ones who wake up every morning, and see nothing ahead of them in life. Me? I wake up every morning, living in the same world as them, and goodness, I see everything. I see achievement, I see fun, I see love... I see playing percussion... I see another production in theater. I see a million things I can do on this computer and a billion in one wing of the internet alone! God... the people who don't see it... Don't see life....
I don't know what will happen to me. I don't know if the girl and I will couple, I don't know if I'll be the real star of the next shows, I don't know if I will be one of the best drummers around. But if I have a chance at any of those things, then this is a world worth living in! There are trains coming for me on the Europe Bridge! I know not where they go, but I will follow them as far as I can go. I will leap to the other side of the falls if I have to! Thank everything for the life I lead!
After all, doing my 8th show of West Side Story half asleep would drive anyone nuts. But whatever... Get this, I tried out for two more shows... and got 2 lead parts! One was 'You're a Good Man Charlie Brown' and guess who I am?
Snoopy! GAHAHAHAHAHAHAH! I have never been so happy in acting in my life. My other show is a traveling show called 'Star Shine Diner' and I play Dobie, a spinoff of Dobie Gillis (who like me, always wears plaid)! I will get payed to travel in it! Just $20, but it's worth it! I'll be a PROFESSIONAL ACTOR! A PAYED ACTOR!!! It's awesome.
A sad event happenned today though. I promised myself that today would be the day I told the girl I loved her...
I searched the school at the end of the day for her... she wasn't there... I feel despondant. Today was to be my day...
And yet, I know it's not her fault despite my anger... I guess every emotion is a Rheneas too...
Ah well. As you can see, trains have come for me on the Europe Bridge... Today I just decided to try and board one before it came to a complete stop.
As for my friends? Them? They get over things... sort of... but I know, that somewhere in them... though one side of the falls points in one direction... the stone seperates them...
Watching Life Hurts.
I admit it now, I am an avid reader of the blogs of those I have met... I can't believe it, but it's true. And besides, it's one of the few places they partially take off their masks.
God, it's awful sometimes... It's like everyday, someone is pissed off for some horrible reason... Even the girl I love... the girl I know to love me...
The worst part is that she and her friends are always in constant states of argument. It hurts to see her like that. Am I to go on to be with her? Can I live in such a painful world with her?
One of her friends has become Rob's girlfriend... she goes by the alias of Aoi. I think her friend, Aarthi, is in extreme jelousy as of she had once loved Rob... But she has moved on... I think...
They always seem to be in conflict. Could it be that girls grow the parts, then the angst, rather than boys who grow the angst then the parts?
And the girl I like... caught in it too, unable to tell who her friends are in the situation. I think they are all like her, but deep down inside are different people. They are all striving for popularity, for fame... for love... to horrible levels.... God, when will they stop?
Who knows? I guess I'll just listen to that song by Pink Floyd I have heard... called 'Us and Them...'
With... without... and who'll deny it's what the fighting is all about?
One Heck Of A Week
Goodness gracious... things are starting to go crazy.
At the beginning of the week, I studied what it really meant to be a gang member (for west side story) by getting into a fight. It's odd, really, I've never been in a real one. It's just a strange sensation, how all that you think of is winning, and sense just sort of disapates. And then, when you look at their eyes, and see them in pain, you have the most awful sinking sensation...
I was left with just some small scars. The kid and I knew that we were both just playing, and he has forgiven me. Personally, I think the chances of being forgiven are amazingly slim. I would have never forgiven myself if I was him... just as I never forgave bullies. It is awful, and I vow never to fight for the heck of it again.
On Wednesday, I was helping someone get a bike down from the highest tower of the playground. Somehow it had gotten up there, possibly by the stupid joy it brings to high-schoolers. Whatever, I decided to get it down with the help of a girl I have met named Kat. Now, as we tried to push it off, it slipped and hit her down from the tower... she was in extreme pain, all sprawled out... So I biked over quickly to the school. It was before hours, and thus the building was not yet opened. I beat on the outer doors until someone pointed out a sign on one of the doors marked 'This Door Opens.' Whatever, I ran in to be stopped by angry teachers, explained the situation, and we got help. Kat is now OK, and escaped with just a broken arm. Kind of surprising for having a bike fall and hit you.
Later, my friend Aarthi told me that I had just achieved popularity by the incident. Personally, I thought that: 1. The only popular person should be the injured one and 2. Is that all you care about?! I do good things because they need done. Usually I never recieve any glory. I don't really care if those were my fifteen minutes of fame. I helped Kat and that's all that matters.
Later, however, I told the story of the rather odd incident to my friend, Richard. Richard, as I mentioned before, is an avid Anime/American Comic Book styled drawer. And so, he asked for a written up version for his weekly web comic, which he'll show later.
Thursday was a pretty sucky day, it was, I guess, the monthly 'stupid people REALLY try to get on Michael's nerves' day. Oh well, after all, there are always those days. Drumline clinics have started and I am practicing Tenors all the time. It kind of feels odd though, with all the professionals just sort of looming over you (or at least the best of high school).
West Side Story opened on Friday. Aarthi and Lahnan came to see it. It was an awesome show, and this time I really did feel like a jet. At points I found myself lost as a real gang member in New York. Aarthi went Gaga about how cute the character of Action was (as everyone else does) which only makes me loathe him more. Whatever. He's good for some things, but at times he could stand a whap in the head.
Lahnan and Aarthi both liked the play. We had people gasping during the murders of Riff, Bernardo, and Tony. Maria rose humongous sadness from the crowd during the 'How Many Bullets are Left' speech. Every punchline in the show brought laughter, including (thank goodness) mine. And of course, the stupidest joke in the show, which we had made, floated by well. Remember the line I once said before...
Gladhand: You form two circles, Boys on the Outside, Girls on the inside.
Snowboy: Where are you?
Well now it comes out like this...
Gladhand: You form two circles-
Chino: What about 8?
Gladhand: NO! 2!
Gladhand: Boys on the Outside, Girls on the inside.
Snowboy: Where are you?
Big week... Big week...
The train is coming closer... I think it's time to catch it...
I think someday, when I'm able to travel on my own, I will take my loved one to France, and show her the Europe Bridge... and we will stand there, holding hands, looking out on the rails, and then looking at each other...
God, someday, that's where I want to be.
Arrival on the Bridge
I found it. I know now what I have been really waiting for.
Four weeks ago, when that concert came, when I knew something had begun, it wasn't the influence of High School I am waiting for.
My train started approaching the Europe Bridge four weeks ago. I am starting to think it's the train I need to catch. I have six weeks of school left to catch the train. I know it's coming for me. And guess what?
It's a girl.
Well, now I realize that On the Europe Bridge will make a good page theme. So, not only did I stick the picture to the top of the page, now I changed the colors and the title. So, now not only am I about Rheneases, I am about that bridge...
Actually, I once went to that train station, known as the Saint-Lazare, in France when I was just 8. I didn't cross the bridge, but next time I will, for that is where the artist, Gustave Caillebotte, once sat and painted the great painting from 1876 to 1877. The man himself knew Renoir and Monet. However, note that all the pieces of the painting are slightly obscurred and surreal. Art cannot be the real world. Art can only be a way of looking at the world. And I guess, I have the view I want.
I am reading Jerry Linenger's book on Mir, which I had to order myself. The book, Off the Planet, isn't too lengthy, but it is often boring due to the fact that Jerry Linenger did not study writing, he studied science. He tries to write this autobiography as if he is writing an adventure story or a tale of great accomplishment, which is unlike Dragonfly, a fact-based essay on all the aspects of the mission. Jerry Linenger's book comes out reading like a book that might appeal to a 6th grader, complete with somewhat corny chapter titles (such as 'Tomorrow, Mir' or 'Training, Russian Style') and an oddly censored version of the events. He doesn't fully express his feelings. It is as if he doesn't want anyone to think there are problems, when the very reason he wrote the book was in order to inform people of how dangerous and horrible this escapade to Mir was!
Still, I will finish the book. You have to read books in three parts:
1: What do the words say?
2: What is the inner meaning to the words?
3: What do the words say about the author?
The way the book has been written does not give me clear judgement about 2 and 3. I will just compare and contrast with Dragonfly and see what happens.
After all, we should see both sides of the falls.
On the Europe Bridge
The paiting On the Europe Bridge I have always found to be my favorite, over Mondrian, over Van Gogh (hope I spelled it correctly), I have always found this odd little painting to be my favorite. I have added the picture to the title page... maybe you will see what I see in it.
It portrays three men on the Bridge at a famous Train Station. Two of them are watching the trains coming and going. They are waiting, watching the steam coming from the funnels of the trains, wondering if it has come for them.
I guess that's life. Waiting for your train, wondering which it is, and hopefully someday riding it.
And I guess I'm waiting for my train. I still wonder what is back here in town for me. I know something's coming. It may already have. I'm watching the trains coming closer to pass under the Europe Bridge.
What could I be waiting for? I may have figured it out. Two weeks ago, I could tell whatever I was waiting for was going to become evident. That night I went to the Spring Percussion Concert, being a Percussionist myself, and saw none other than Terry Bozzio, the famous drummer from Frank Zappa and the Mother's of Invention. I saw high-school percussionists perform, including a few of my friends I met that were in 8th grade when I was in 7th. At first I thought I was waiting for one of them. Now I realize. I am waiting for High School. DUH! How could I have not seen it coming?
So for the past weeks I have been bored with Middle School realizing that no frontiers to be conquered remain here. And soon, I will see my friends again. Perfect.
I woke up yesterday to find my dog on my bed (odd, I didn't put her there) and that I did not have strength to get up and claim the computer... something I always have strength for. I was sick with a fever.
So, for half a day, I stayed in bed with my dog, and eventually I played enough Pokémon (Gold Version) that I was miraculously healed. My body was so idle other than my thoughts and fingers that I was able to put in enough energy to fight the fever. In a way, that old videogame (which I still have yet to finish) provided me with a cure! And, not only that, I'm FINALLY on my way to beat it.
I called my friend Scott to see if he could come over and watch the movie version of West Side Story with me. He wants to:
I called back today and he couldn't come over. Reason? He was FINALLY going on vacation! Well, he needs one. However, I was hoping to practice lines, share insane thoughts, and have mom practice stage makeup on him...
I am utterly full of ways to spend the rest of the weekend. Here is my big fat list of things to practice!
As if that's all I want to do with my weekend. As for my lines in West Side Story, that will be easy. My character, Snowboy, has almost the fewest and some of the best lines in the show! Just sample it...
[Glad Hand]: Alright! I want you to form two circles! Boys on the outside, girls on the inside!
[Snowboy]: Where are you?
I have to tell you, there is really no place like Dallas. Out here in the suburbs of Dallas everything is so much nicer and newer than life anywhere else. Everything is in top shape here compared to life in Corpus Christi. Although the Sea is beautiful, the run-down conditions there are awful. I don't understand why nowhere that I go in the world is quite as nice as it is in the Dallas Suburbs.
I am glad to be home as you can tell, but I really did like Corpus Christi. We went to a nice, old, cheap motel with a porch on our room opening up to the beach. It was nice there. We visited the USS Lexington, a large WWII aircraft carrier that was simply extravagant.
Often I did not like, however, going onto the beach. It wasn't the fact that the water was cold (duh) or that the fog was expansive or that there were no big waves or that that my parents were there that bothered me. I can put up with all that! I wasn't planning on swimming, I didn't care too much about the sun, I don't surf, and I like my parents. The fact was, I did not want to go out there without a shirt on for two reasons.
It annoys the crud out of me that even my own parents actually think I look like a Korean child. Hey, it's not my fault that I have an out of control metabolism. Often I eat more than them. The fact is, I just process food VERY well... However, my braces are going to contribute to me eating a bit slower...
I was alright with the beach until people started coming out to it in midday. But what the heck? Luckily I have the two cutest dogs in the world to distract any thoughts (hehe).
However, I guess public opinion varies. While I was coming back home today, a few girls on a schoolbus in San Antonio (it's not spring break there) smiled and waved at me. I guess I just have the gift of stage presence. People know I'm there, and, whether I like it (as in this case) or not (as in some creepy guy on the beach), they are comforted by it.
What was coming to me in Corpus Christi? I was carving a small sign as a joke in the sand along the beach road in Padre Island. It said "Warning: Not Much Ahead." And just as I did this, a group of gulls flying back home up north passed overhead.
A sign? Just as I thought not much was ahead, a signal to go back north to home. At least now I know whatever's waiting for me (or I'm waiting for) is here in town.
Something Came in Dreamland
Dang it for being a dream. Lousy. I didn't even get to spend any of it during my dream. But I was modest with it. I also was constantly in fear someone would steal it from me, and it seemed like everyone was trying to...
Whatever, it was a good dream. I feel rested now, and my dogs feel clean here at home now that they are having a bath.
I can't use it anymore.
My mouth, dang it. I can't eat. Now not only can I not navigate food through my mouth, I can't save myself if I know I will choke. I am a prisoner to foreign objects in my mouth.
Kinda like Mir, as it got in its teenage years, people tried to fill it up with foreigners in order to make their governments pay for it, thus keeping it alive. Same thing with me. My teeth are in their teenage years, and to keep it alive it is being filled with foreign objects.
I nearly choked twice today. I can't eat fajitas. It's a wonder that in this week that I've had knew parts installed to my braces that I haven't choked to death at school.
Meanwhile Spring Break has started here in this suburb of Dallas. I wait patiently to leave for Corpus Christi on Sunday or Monday. I wonder if it's true that ties are illegal on South Padre Island...
I honestly need a better format for this blog... but what the heck do I care? It's the text that matters here, and anyone biased enough to go away from this because it doesn't have animé on it is:
A. An Animé Freak.
B. Lacking an attention span
C. A person afraid of black and white.
D. Some other lame type of quality I didn't think of.
I wonder if there's anything waiting for me in South Texas? It feels like something is coming... Who knows? Maybe I've just been in West Side Story too long.
Also, now I am looking for Jerry Linenger's book about Mir... I NEED his view. I need to see all views. I want to see both sides of the falls.
It's been a while. Anyway...
It iced in two days ago here in my town. The schools have actually canceled school for two days in a row... but it's melting fast... It's fun to walk out there.
I heard something odd recently about my friend Rob.
Rob is a nice, but self-centered guy. He has quite a few friends and has the magic quality of being 'in'. Lot's of people like him. I personally know two girls who can't decide wether they love him or hate his guts. What a Rheneas.
Anyway, I heard Rob did something or another. He had an emotional blow out of anger and threatened to slit his wrist or something... I don't know. I have no classes with him and seal myself off from the world. I never saw this side of the divided waterfall where Rob was an angstful person. It's strange to hear it... but it's oddly satisfying to know that this person has a full personality. It makes me feel like the world has hope, that even a person as self-centered as he has a full human self...
Still, I am worried for him... especially those two girls...
As for an ordinary life... I am almost done reading Dragonfly, it's getting VERY interesting. I was casted with the part of Snowboy...
Oh well, at least I'm not Chino. Besides, it's just nice to be with the people in theater. They tend to express REAL emotions more than others I have met...
Obsession to Faults
Dang! Why is everyone so obsessed with what is wrong with earth?! Why does no one in the world want to appreciate what is there? So what if there are things wrong with earth! Everyone knows that! People just don't live with it!
Honestly, it seems like the ONLY person my age that does not believe life sucks is me! Me for crying out loud! I have a million things in life people consider to suck and I am happy wiht it! I'm starting to think humans are pessimistic by nature.
For instance, just the other day my friend Richard was making some drawings. He's nice at Animé, but I prefer his talents at cartoonism better. Anyway, he is popular for drawing portraits of people and analyzing their anatomy. It's a nice joke. Here's the thing though: My friends Ashley and Jennifer got in a large argument over his drawings. They were in a big argument over whose breasts he'd drawn bigger!
Are they just looking for things to complain about? Why does everyone seem obsessed with faults in life?
I find that most of the girls I know have a thing where they are constantly looking for problems. They are either looking for what's wrong with them, or what's wrong with other people, even if there isn't a problem yet! Worse yet, they don't do anything about it! They just yak and complain!
And of course, I myself have things I complain about and don't like, but I don't run my life off of them! Sure, I'm mean, I'll insult people I don't like, but to say life is against you, I swear, it drives me nuts!
My whole life revolves around change.
It seems that all my life (little to my knowledge) I have been obsessed with series of things, be it numbers, forms, patterns, or anything. I find myself extremely attracted to things that have different forms and modes. I think I notice that a lot in junk like Bionicle. There are so many series and stuff in it. I just get caught up in all of it! It often feels like all I like in the world is change. I discovered, recently, that the two paintings I keep in my room are both pictures of bridges! Hah! There has GOT to be something to that!
I don't know why I am putting out this Blog really. I guess maybe I learned something... people want to hear what I really think. That's funny, because people want me to shut up and quit talking to myself, when that is when I say what I really think!
My two favorite humors are that of life and that of total randomness. Life, probably because it deals with psycological aspects. Randomness, because it is a quit detour from the oddities of life. I don't know.... I love life as much as I love fantasy, and it's best I don't love fantasy more than life... that will be my undoing!
I continue to read my book, Dragonfly. No it is NOT the book of that sappie love story. It is about Mir, the tragic Russian Space Station. I expect, afterwords, to write a musical about it... Heh! Insane, and yet, funny. It is a detour from life, and yet reflects it... weird.
There's one Rheneas for you.
I'm watching the Rheneas. I'm waiting On the Europe Bridge.
All who read this blog will be exposed to true, inner, philisophical thoughts that I have on the world. My life isn't special in the things I have done with it. My life is special in the way I look at it and the way I run it.
This blog is never archived, so if you by chance read it, please start from the bottom of the page and scroll to the top, and watch as thought becomes stronger and more powerful pixel by pixel on the screen.
If you are one of the people I speak of in this blog and know me, woe to you, for this is the innermost thoughts I have on you. These will shatter your view of me, and may even distress you. So, unless you are ready to know just what I really think of this world, please leave.