Closings

I may be closing this account, and if I don't close it then I'll stop blogging on it.

Root Three

I’m sure that I will always be
A lonely number like root three

The three is all that’s good and right,
Why must my three keep out of sight
Beneath the vicious square root sign,
I wish instead I were a nine

For nine could thwart this evil trick,
with just some quick arithmetic

I know I’ll never see the sun, as 1.7321
Such is my reality, a sad irrationality

When hark! What is this I see,
Another square root of a three

As quietly co-waltzing by,
Together now we multiply
To form a number we prefer,
Rejoicing as an integer

We break free from our mortal bonds
With the wave of magic wands

Our square root signs become unglued
Your love for me has been renewed

*It's a really cheesy poem from the
Harold and Kumar trilogy.*

Excerpts of Life

"I had a dream, no, it was a nightmare. I was dying. On my death bed. I'm young, only about sixteen years old, my time shouldn't have come so soon. Lying on the stiff mattress provided by the hospital, I looked up, that's all I did for the few hours I was there. They ran tests and examined me, they said I was dying at a break-neck pace, that my body couldn't fight off infection. There was nothing to do but look up, sometimes a fly would pass by over head and it's silhouette would be shown in contrast to the light above. The doctors whispered to my mom next to me. I could hear them. 'He won't make it through the night, he'll be lucky if he even has five, maybe six hours. If he has anyone to say goodbye to, he should get it done soon.' I remember his words so clearly, as if they were being spoken beside me right now. My mom stood up and left the room, I knew she was crying. I didn't see any tears but I could tell. Later in the night I could hear a large group of people hanging around the door of my room. They were all ushered in without my consent. They were my friends, my best friends, some close acquaintances, and last but not least, the love of my life. Everyone came around to my bedside, distress planted in their faces as they spoke to me for the last time. Reminiscing on the past, talking about the good times, it made me happy but I knew that I was going to let everyone down soon. I was going to die, no doubt about it but no one expected it to be so soon. After mostly everyone had time to say goodbye to me, they were escorted out of the room, most left in tears. There was one person who didn't say a word to me. My love, the one I had met only three years prior to today, walked up to me and grabbed my hand. Face flushed with anger, sadness, and despair. Flustered for words, looking for the most memorable to say. Nothing. She grabbed my hand and squeezed. It was a quirk of hers always squeezing my hand when she was scared or nervous. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she looked at me, slowly dying, there was nothing that could be done for me and she knew it. Lifting my hand in hers ever so gently to her face she laid my open hand on her cheek then bent down to kiss mine. As she was leaning in, so close, yet so far away, I felt my grasp on life and her hand diminish. She was getting closer and the time seemed to move slower, I wasn't sure if her lips would ever reach me, I couldn't judge the distance correctly, I was too scattered. About an inch away from me, my hand gave out, along with my spirit. My hand dropped from her embrace and I laid still in the bed, wishing that I had just a few more seconds left to live. I had no time left and I was called to the gates. My loves last kiss never laying lips on my living self."

Bah Humbug!

I was looking for a blog I had posted about two months ago. I looked for over seven minutes and I didn't find it! I have too many blog posts!

Nightmares

Nightmares stink. I don't enjoy my nightmares but I seem to be having more and more of them with increasing intensity. They aren't happy dreams, they're terrible. They make me understand myself better and my limitations. After a nightmare I always have a new found knowledge of my limits and understanding of the things that inhibit me.

I don't even...

I go to check my page views and the traffic for my blogs every once in a while. If you don't have a blog, there is a page that shows where your views are coming from, what site the person was direct from to your blog and when your blog was viewed. Most, if not all, of my blogs are read in the United States of America and that doesn't really surprise me. What I am very perplexed by are the sites that send my readers to my blogs. My most recent check was done at about 11:00 pm on April 4th. The top site was a website advertising baby car seats. I went to check it out and not anywhere did I see a link to any Blogspot blogs... My question is... How did anyone get from there to here? What? I don't even...

Story Time With Em

I'm very childish, I still pass notes in class. The first class of my day is pretty much story hour with my friend and I. We sit adjacent to each other (I'm in front, she's behind me) and we pass a sheet of paper back and forth to each other jotting down little anecdotes that have happened to us. From dreams to near death encounters, we talk about everything, or should I say write about everything...

Originality

Oh wow... Please don't do things that someone else thought of and take the credit for it. I'm not perfect with it so some leeway is allowed. I usually say "I saw _____ on So and So" or "_____ Said this" but sometimes I may forget to give credit and thats fine just don't "forget" to give credit for six weeks straight.

Sleep

I cannot stay up lately. Everyday I come home and just fall asleep.

First to Know

I just found out that I, a male teen, am pregnant... Yep... I wonder who the dad is...

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I got you right? This was an April Fool's joke if you couldn't tell.