We're basically saying 'fuck it'

It's not like anybody reads it anyway.

We just need hope that somebody cares I guess.

Oh well.

Friends

In life, you will learn who is really your friend.

Who is really there for you.

And for those who have flaws in their friendship with you; it shows true friendship if you decide to look past them and love them for who they are. 

Having a best friend is a life line for you. 

Chapter I, part IV / NaNoWriMo

And then, a man with floppy brown hair and a bow tie erupted from the bushes. He was wearing a brown pinstripe jacket, and what seemed like suspenders. He also wore brown dress pants and dress shoes. I would have mistaken him for an old man, except he was young. In his mid-twenties, perhaps? But…when I looked in his eyes, I saw something different. I couldn’t quite place my finger on it, but I could tell there was something alien about him.

            While I was staring at him, probably looking like an idiot, he was brushing off small twigs and leaves off his jacket. Then, he seemed to notice me and looked me over. He then spoke.

            “Hi there,” he said with a wide, toothy grin. His voice was filled with cheerfulness and excitement. “I’m the Doctor.”

And that's the fourth part of the first chapter of a story I've been working on. Yeah, I know, I've been posting up random parts of it without explaining why. Well, there's a couple reasons. 

Chapter I, part III

Lunch was alright. The food was better than prison food (not that I tried prison food), but only marginally. I sat with a group of people, half of which were my friends and the other half consisted of people I knew, but I never talked to. They didn’t talk to me either, so we both won. And then, after three more classes, my day was done. I was free of this place.

I walked out of the doors of the school, thinking about what I was going to do when I got home (either plop down on my couch and watch tv or surf the web on the computer), when I saw something that made me stop in my tracks. The angels from this morning were gone. I seriously doubted that somebody went and took them. Maybe they were a prank and the staff had taken then down. But if that happened, then the school would be buzzing about it. Now that I thought about it, nobody said a word about the angels, which to me was odd. Two new additions to the look of the school seemed like something to talk about, especially if it was a prank. With a sigh, I started towards home.

As I was walking from school to my house, I kept looking behind me. It felt like I was being followed; like somebody was watching me. I was still pretty spooked about the statues earlier. I only lived a few blocks away from the school and the neighborhood between the school and my house were middle-class, so I didn’t have to worry about getting mugged and I could get home pretty quickly. 

Suddenly, I heard a noise. Something was rustling in the bushes nearby. My heart was pounding. Questions and assumptions were rushing through my head. Was there somebody following me? Were those statues really were real and now were after me? Am I going to die? Why didn’t I listen to mother and take Mixed Martial Arts instead of basketball? I didn’t even play; I just sat on the sidelines, playing a game. 

Your Call

this hypocrisy and two-faced-ness...

is suffocating.

why are we so scared to be ourselves?

why are we so afraid to stand up for ourselves?

in reality, they’re just as afraid as you are. 

and honestly, just say “fuck it” and say what’s on your mind.

you’ll impress more people. 

i know i've talked about things like this before,

but it has gotten worse.

my patience has worn down since then,

and i don't know how much more i can stand as i watch people lie through their teeth.

it's disgusting, it really is.

i'd say everybody should grow up, but it gets worse when you're an adult.

i remember when we were kids, and we would always say the truth.

only, that died because it's bad to speak your mind if what you have to say is harsh,

according to society,

your parents,

your teachers,

et cetera. 

i'm not saying that i speak the truth to everybody i meet,

i tend to rather stay silent then lie. 

or just leave.

much less disgusting then staying there and acting like their your best friend.

plus, i think i'd rather know if someone disliked me,

rather than them pretending to like me.

Chapter I, part II

As I was walking past houses, there was something that caught my eye. It was a statue of what appeared to be an angel. It had its eyes covered, as if crying. I had never seen it before, or at least, never noticed on the way to school. For a second, it felt like it was watching me, which was impossible for two reasons because one, it was a statue, and two, it had its eyes covered.  With a shrug, I continued on my way to school, already forgetting about it.

As I entered school grounds, I froze. Near the entrance of the school doors were two angel statues, each on one side of the large glass doors, as if a decoration. That was weird and it freaked me out. I hurried inside, trying not to look at them, which was surprisingly easy for something that creepy.

The day went by quite… average, which was no surprise. My teachers tried teaching, some of the succeeding in actually teaching me something, while others failed miserably. The students were annoying and obnoxious as usual. Well, don’t get me wrong, I’m not cynical. I do have friends, but I never see them due to different class and my best friend, Asher, was currently in the UK. He was acting as a foreign exchange student for the year, leaving me behind. I don’t mind much, I mean, I miss him and all, but he’ll be back eventually. Anyways, I digress. Sadly, I have no girlfriend. No girl seems to fancy me and vice versa. 

My Blue Heaven

i don't want to exist anymore.
well, to be clear, i wish i never existed.
no, the reason behind it isn't the whole "without me, everybody would be better off."
i'm not that conceited to think i have that much of an impact on everybody i know's life.
i mean, i don't want to exist because i don't want to make mistakes.
i know, making mistakes is a flaw that makes humans perfect, in a way.
i really hate making mistakes.
yeah, sure, making mistakes mean you learn not to do it again,
but have you ever thought what makes you not want to do it again?
bad consequences happen.
while at times, it means a stomach ache from too much sugar, or staying up too late means a horrible day at school/work,
but what about the times where you deeply regret your mistake and you desperately wish you could take it back?
it's not fair, it really isn't, that we can make such careless, small, actions that lead up to something gigantic.
things.
it's not fair that we hardly ever get second tries when it comes to the things that really matter,
when it comes to those people who really matter.
and when we do get a second chance, it's never the same.
there'll be that friction, that tension.
so fragile, so depressing,
it makes me not want to make the same mistake again,
so much that i think i prefer not living over it.
the regret is too much.
and sometimes, learning from your mistake isn't enough to stop it from happening again.
and then, your world shatters again.

Chapter I, part I

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

                The annoying noise continued on for several minutes. Through many years of training, I had finally mastered blocking it out. Sadly, though, this proud feat was obsolete for one reason: my mother. Since my alarm clock no longer woke me up, my mother ended up doing it for me. She would bang open my door, spilling painfully blinding light onto my face and yell at me to get my lazy ass out of bed. While it was annoying, I was somewhat thankful for her because without her morning routine, I’d be late to school. Well… even more late.

I crawled out from my warm bed into the dreadfully cool air and scurried into the bathroom. I got into the warm, steamy shower, and enjoyed the warmth of it. While I stood under the running water, I finally started to wake up and think. And when I did, I groaned. Today was not going to be a fun and wonderful day. No, instead it was just going to be another, boring day in the city of Faerygill. Even the name was stupid.

After I finished up with the shower, I threw on some clothes and my old (yet favored) Chuck Taylors and went downstairs, to the kitchen. After eating a hearty breakfast of dry toast and some milk, I walked to school. The walk there was average… well, mostly average. As I was walking past houses, there was something that caught my eye. It was a statue of what appeared to be an angel. It had its eyes covered, as if crying. I had never seen it before and the owner of the lawn never had statues, or any decorations. There was something off about it too… a weird, creepy aura to it.  Shrugging it off, I continued onwards toward school, already forgetting about it.

                 

Battles

logically, abortion should be pro-life.
but honestly, who gives a fuck about my opinion?
i'm a dude.
i don't carry the baby around for nine months and experience the 'miracle of birth'.
i have no fucking say in whether a girl can keep her baby or not.
and this goes for everybody who is against abortion or for abortion.
nobody really gives a fuck about what you say.
the only two people who matter in a situation where abortion is an option are the potential father and the potential mother.
and that means there shouldn't be any fucking protests at abortion clinics.
seriously, just mind your own fucking business, north america / the world.
i suppose this makes me pro-choice.
which means, i won't say anything about whether somebody should keep their baby or not,
unless i'm asked by them.
to which i'd give them my honest opinion,
yet ultimately say:
it's up to you.
being neutral is the way to handle things.
and if i'm ever in the situation where i have sex with a girl (HA!) and knock her up, i'll just leave it all up to her.

Just The Way You Are

if your life, or my life, were a story, i don't think it'd really end.
if it /had/ to end, it'd end with your death.
but then, wouldn't the next chapter be with your kids?
or would that be a whole nother book, in a long series of stories?
who knows.
stories end in ways we cannot predict.
sure we may get the rough outline (i.e. hero prevails and the enemy is killed),
but we can't predict every detail (i.e. hero dies in the process, or the enemy isn't really killed and is soon to return in a sequel series!)
and sometimes, stories never end the way we thought they would, or want. (i.e. hero dies and the enemy lives on!)
our lives are like that.
those who predict the ending in their story usually are wrong.
it's one of the reasons why asking someone to be your girlfriend/boyfriend is so... terrifying?
you don't know for certain as to what they will say.
you could be rejected.
denied.
no girlfriend/boyfriend for you.
it's even more nerve wracking when you propose to somebody.
because that could just shatter your whole future if you get denied.
but yeah, i digress.
bottom line?
we each are writing our story of our life.
always writing, yet never knowing what's going to happen at the end until it happens.