An Anthology Of Insanity

Chapter 1

2011-12-07T21:44:00.000-08:00

If there was one thing I learned about myself in my fifteen years before moving to the desert it was this; there was nothing special about me. Special, in this case being a loose term for interesting, was a word often used in the wrong context at my fair school of Huntington High. Huntington High was creatively named after the town in which it was located, namely Huntington.
You see, there are two beaches in Huntington: Huntington and Santo. The first is a tourist beach with nice sand and crowded summer days. The second is a surfer's beach with a taco place at one end and a board waxing shop at the other. I lived two blocks away from Santo beach, and on a clear day I could look out my bedroom window and watch the waves lap against the wet sand as the sun rose over the pacific like some poem penned forever ago and lost in the author's wonder.
But I never was able to simply watch the waves go about their business untamed, and as such I became an avid follower of wave religion. To the normal person that's called surfing but to me and the others like me, it was exactly that. A religion that had it's rightful place on a wave. It is a supernatural experience, riding those waves. The paddle, seeing the wave, standing, and catching that wave all seemed to happen in slow motion. I still believe that surfing is as wonderful an experience as one can have.
There were certainly others who thought and acted like me in regards to wave religion. A few of them were friends, some were strangers, some were vistors, most stayed, and all were brothers of mine when the surf was up.
There was Andrew, a friend of mine. He was, as most teenage boys in Orange County are, blonde, tall, tan, and athletic. He played football in the fall and wrestled in spring but when May came around and the sun shone until 8 or 9 at night, he would join me almost daily on the beach where we would surf and eat tacos, and rarely speak except to comment on the last wave or the next burrito or his most recent cheerleader girlfriend.
Then there was Simon, a shorter, black haired boy with ocean blue eyes that seemed to echo the pacific itself. He was a year younger than me, and to most he seemed to be my apprentice of sorts. It is true that I taught him quite a bit about wave religion, but in reality one must only remember two things about this holiest of water sports. 1) Respect the wave, for it is more powerful than you and has been there longer, and 2) Never surf while on acid.
This second rule was not a joke at all, in fact shortly before I moved away from Huntington a boy about my age drowned one night when he and his friends when out at night tripping balls and riding waves. His name was Troy and he was a football player. A jogger found his body the next morning washed up on the sand. The douchebags who did not respect the 2 simple rules of wave religion were known as thumbs by those who did because they obviously contained as much information in there brain as most do in their thumbs. Well, for that and other not so hand related reasons.

Part 1: The Past

2011-11-21T20:08:00.000-08:00

It's been a long month. Fuck, more like a year. I've changed as a person in 31 days. I've been reborn. It's an odd feeling, to think what I was doing not last year but last month. Last year I can deal with, last month was different. I find it doubly ironic that she would dye her hair pink after dumping me, as she knew I had dyed my hair pink in 8th grade. Furthermore, I find it ironic but oddly fitting that we haven't spoken since she said those 9 rather unsure words halfway through modern world. "I kinda think I'm gonna sorta break up with you." Somehow, I had imagined a more eloquent break-up from a creative writer who enjoys Tolstoy far more than she enjoys boys. Oddly fitting I say, because though our relationship was solid to all those looking in, we never talked about anything. I mean, yes of course we talked, we talked a lot. But the topics of conversation were rather trivial. One example would be foods you can eat with a shoelace:1 hour. we never talked about emotions or common interests outside of the internet, and we never opened to each other at all. It was like we only hung about each other because an imaginary string labeled "relationship" held us together. Meaningless, loveless, cold.
And yet, we were fine. Better than most actually. For four months we did everything couples do. We hung out together and went with each other everywhere, we went on dates to cafes and romantic comedies. I even asked her out on a beach on the summer solstice at sunset, surprising even myself with how cheesy I could be. Objectively, we were a "cute" couple. Once, I said "I love you", I never got a reply.
I should have known then that it was not meant to be. She broke up with me on our 4 month anniversary (one month ago), in Modern World, 12 hours after I met Kevin Spacey. The last words I said to her were "You have beautiful eyes." Then she dumped with the aforementioned 9 words and ruined my weekend. Hell, she ruined my week. For 5 days I thought she dumped me because of my haircut, for the next five, I couldn't speak in articulate sentences. I was in a bad place, depressed, confused, and overall melancholy beyond previous experience. Then, I was saved by a most unlikely source.

(SEE PART 2 FOR DETAILS)

Last Night

2011-07-31T13:00:00.000-07:00

Stumbling down the center of circular suburban streets screaming to someone who isn't there. Foot by bloody foot stepping on yellow lines and growling at the night that exists in my head. There are 10 items in my pockets none of them are a cell phone or a keychain, and these goddamn dogs won't stop barking at me. Switching between spiteful screams and crying out names of past loves. Tears drip down my face as I still keep walking. And then for a long time, nothing. When I finally gain my mind back, I'm in an abandoned house scratching "David" onto a cement wall. This is what acting does to me. Thank god for my friends, otherwise last night might have turned out poorly for me.

Rip Off

2011-06-23T16:06:00.000-07:00

The road has long before been ready for an angel
And everyone around has waited for this day
When you will come back, come back into my embrace
And we will celebrate the golden era days with you

And every day I long for reasons left to kiss you
And every month I try to kill myself in Vain
And every other day I struggle through the rain for you

If you were smaller I would carry to heaven
If you were larger I would do it all the same
Don't worry baby I won't force you to take my name

So once I leave my, once I leave my parents house hold
And once you promise me, oh promise me the same
we'll run together through the fields of carrot flowers
Until we're far enough away that we are safe

When I was younger I would chew my action figures
And all the barbies, they would think I was insane
Until you kissed me, and that changed it all in my brain

So won't you come down to us from that bed of roses
And tell us all that everything's ok
And we will love you, we will love every day of our lives.

Thoughts From Places 2

2011-05-15T22:19:00.000-07:00

I spent my Sunday moving to a new apartment. It has two bedrooms, a nice kitchen, carpet throughout, a nice living room and probably the cuttiest shower of all time (in a good way). However, it was the journey to this place that really mattered to me.

You see, goodbyes are bittersweet for most, but I never liked that house while I was in it. The memories though, they stay. Like that first morning we moved when we all woke up on the floor of what became my bedroom to the sound of Chinese News blaring from across the street. I remember that the first food in the fridge of that house was Macaroni and Cheese from Safeway. The last food in it was Macaroni and Cheese from Safeway. I remember the first time I slipped and fell down the stairs I was not yet used to. I also remember the second time because it was immediately following the first. I remember bringing Brandy our new Beagle home in a crate that was at that time too big for her and over time became too small. I remember playing with her in the backyard and I remember setting up the basketball hoop on the small patch of concrete that was between the large house and tiny lawn. I remember filming videos making fun of all my teachers, and I remember taking them all down. I remember the first time I ever felt truly epic, playing Rock Band in my garage with the three best friends that anyone could have. I remember slipping out the backdoor with a hatchet and a bat to destroy said Rock Band set later that year. I remember all the laughter, all the tears, all the love, and all the times I came back from school in fifth grade crying to myself because I thought I would never fit in.

The house itself went through a lot too. Bryan kicked a hole in the drywall last year, me and my friend Connor took golf clubs to the garage door, I threw a basketball against the same side repeatedly everyday for a while because I was trying to master a certain trick shot. through 110 degree heat and that one time when it snowed, through fights and friends and foes and folly it stayed up and working and always the right temperature.

But I guess in the end, all homes are the same, its just where the heart is, and the memories too.

Life

2011-04-21T21:55:00.000-07:00

You learn a lot about life when you live it by the knife. Plenty of marital strife when you marry a bitch of a wife. Sure you can buy a big house, end up lonely as a mouse inside your palace, a monument to fallacy, normality, 'tis the name of the past, because you always play the character but never choose the cast and if my last name was right I would name my kid stage, he would be the rage, while I am stuck inside my palace cage remembering the days when I was the star of my own plays so, listen to me children and listen to me hard when I say that life is for the playing if you draw the right card you can be anything like a bahama llama or an alpaca cracka, don't live to smack her, respect her, collect her, protect her, so keep the facts and stay on track, don't have to be black to love your hood, you have to come back so go to college, share your knowledge, but also share the pain and board the plane don't fear the rain just go insane and come back to sanity normality, 'tis the name of the past.

The Essence Of ADD

2011-03-28T20:45:00.000-07:00

Today, I went to my friend's brother's baseball game and instead of staying there and cheering him on and talking like we intended to, my friends Connor and Riley wanted to take off into the hills and go on an adventure. I went along, almost unwillingly but looking at the beautiful hills surrounding the ravine we were headed toward and feeling more adventurous than usual. We climbed, sprinted, and walked up one hill jumping from rock to rock while my irrational fear of heights took over and I immediately became a 5 year old. We spent a time on the top of that first hill shouting out Shakespeare and Monty Python lines, until my ADD friend Connor decided to "climb that other one". And so we did, somewhat more slowly because of my friends' constant need to tun over stones and catch lizards or otherwise try to climb rocks far off the beaten path that I struggled up slowly.

We got to the top and the view was absolutely gorgeous on both sides. The sun was slowly setting and everything was bathed in that fantastic amber light that painter's and poets alike love to talk about. I sat down, thinking that we could have a really nice moment on top of the hill we just conquered, maybe even a conversation. But even as I sat down, there was Connor going to the next spot saying "Come on guys" sounding (whether intentional or not) like an impatient 7 year old. Well, what are you going to do.

You learn to live with having friends who cant hold a single thought or action for more than a minute and a half. Its hard, especially when you have as little energy as I do, to keep up with the ball of energy rolling down the hill of sugar your ADD friend just consumed. But in the end, it has its benefits. For instance I would have been stuck watching 12 year olds butcher the Nation's pastime if Connor and Riley weren't so damn spastic. And for that I say thank you ADD, you have greatly improved my day.

An Experiment In Poetic Slavery

2011-03-25T14:57:00.000-07:00

Ok so my good friend Dylan gave me an assignment a while ago: Write a poem with a rhyme scheme of ABABCDCDEFEFCB in which the first line describes the second quatrain the second the third, the third the fourth and the fourth the couplet. So, here goes nothing.

Oh, what a funny little feeling it is to be in love
More of a glorified universal want than a normal human need
Someday girl, you and I will find ourselves up in the sky and we will watch from above
But for now we can embrace in the paradise of love and wait until our souls are freed.

A little sensation glowing inside you from your head down to your feet
Warming your soul like a fire in the night and letting you know that will never again be cold
The feeling of your lips on mine is sweeter than any traditional childhood treat
A love like ours will never need a label, and never fit any mold.

Fickle little fairies fall freely following false and forgotten notions of romance and intimacy
All want love, few get it, fewer realize when they are in it, and none have it like mine
Advertisements fail to catalogue the greatest human feeling in all its splendor and intricacy
For love never agrees to any rules or regulations and never signs upon the dotted line.

The only force powerful enough to stop a lovers stare is death
But before you die I will stare into those beautiful blue eyes and feel like I'm in heaven
And sooner than we know the day will come when we wake up, say "we made it" draw our last breath
Together we will revel in the afterlife and while most stop at cloud nine we will occupy cloud eleven.

But before the passion and perfection takes place the two lovers must meet.
Climb together into the carriage of romance and let love take the lead.
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Hope you liked it. Not really about anyone specifically just generic sappy shit.

WILSON!!

2011-03-24T18:58:00.000-07:00

Hmm.. I've never been the outcast before
a group unwanted from shore to lonely shore
a fact free from feelings at the core
but rather imposed on strangers like an ominous gnarled door.
State of body far more than health of mind
chooses these lonely dispositions one may find
that feelings of depression often get returned to sender in kind.
But in the end it is all my fault
guilty as I am of trying to break the social vault
so I will, as always, accept the unpleasant result.

Painting Upon Silence

2011-03-23T22:05:00.000-07:00

Music. It is human, it is natural, it is wonderful, it is powerful, and it is the greatest escape. No wonder huge headphones are so popular, when you turn on the T.V see orange people yelling at each other, douchebags ripping off people who want to sell family heirlooms, horror stories about oriental countries, and guilt trips about far away problems. Just put some headphones on to drown out the noise and it all seems comical. Music itself is an escape, just listen to the melodies, feel the beat, sing along and stamp your feet. Once you combine the two, you can just tune out the world, close your eyes and get lost in the world of the song. That is the beauty.

Dreams

2011-03-20T12:55:00.000-07:00

Little images that flit around your brain the dead of the night rarely make much sense once you wake up and find that your fantasy had just become reality. Just last night I had a dream that I was in the cave from Tom Sawyer, running away from Mr.Rayher accompanied by someone who seemed to change in appearance every time I looked back at them.

Dreams are a way for your mind to explore its deepest depths without having to climb over all the walls you have built in your own head. For instance, my old house in Palo Alto shows up in many of dreams, and so do the old friends I had there, though I rarely ever think about them while I'm awake.

In the end, dreams are what we make of them.

4 Little Words

2011-01-18T20:41:00.000-08:00

I never knew four little words could make my day so much better. Today was just any day until you came along, and brightened it up for me. Today was just any day until you sweetened it with your golden charm. I tried to forget you last week and I failed. Trying to forget your face is like trying to forget one's name, and twice as hard to hate. Brown eyes, brown hair, brown skirt and you still make my world more colorful than I had ever imagined it to be. Your voice makes angels jealous, as I'm sure they have heard it up there in heaven where you belong.

Wait a minute.... I can't the same damn sappy ass poem over and over again.

I'll just say 3 more words.

I Love You

Snippet

2011-01-10T22:05:00.000-08:00

Hipster Lady:"Come with me to the bathroom, for there lies the hipster portal"

High School Worker at Starbucks:"Um, hello?"

HL:"What, you illiterate brute!"

HSWS:"Excuse me, despite your pseudo-bohemian appearance and vaguely leftist doctrine of beliefs you know nothing about art or sex that you couldn't read in any trendy New York underground fashion magazine! Proto-typical non conformist, you are a vacuous soldier of the thrift store gestapo! You adhere to a sense of styles and beliefs that seem to be pre-determined by an invisible panel of hipster judges giving bullshit thumbs up and thumbs down to in-coming and out-going trends in music and art! Go analog, baby! You're soo post modern! You're diving headfirst into an antiquated past! It's disgusting, it's insulting! Don't stick your nose up at me! When you walk by a group of "normal" people you laugh, scoffing as you pat yourself on the back! It's the same superiority complex shared by the high-school jocks who made your life a living hell, and its the same superiority complex that makes you a slave to the establishment capitalist dogma you spend every waking moment of your life bitching about to your hipster friends as you sit in a circle pontificating to each other, forever competing for that one moment of self-egrandizing glory in which you hog the intellectual spotlight, passing dominion over the entire pointless, shallow conversation! Oh we're not worthy!? "

Just a Say Anything quote I turned into dialogue for my new "Hipster" play during my incredibly creative BART rides in which I write all the stupid stuff I complain constantly about writing, but write anyway because of a certain sense of egotism in which I believe I am always more creative than the next person and must prove so by "creating" certain things and then talking about them as if they're just one of the many creative things I do.

Over-Indulgence of the Self-Efacing

2011-01-06T21:59:00.000-08:00

Recently I have noticed two trends.

1. I take a lot of theatre stuff way too seriously. If you need an example, I don't just practice my choreography at home (I cleared the entire family room to do so) I also listen hard enough during class to the lyrics that I can remember them and search them on youtube in order to find the song.
I got my CSSSA monologue yesterday and its already memorized and covered in notes.
I watched 13 episodes of inside the actor's studio just trying to learn through osmosis.
I do squats at home in order to strengthen my thighs so I don't look so weak when we do those breathing elevators in Asian Theatre.

2) Everyone who isn't in theatre seems to have a grudge against theatre, or at least doesn't think we're talented/professional. For instance, Shakespeare happens to fall on the same weekend as media night, and no one is going to Shakespeare whereas everyone I ask is going to media night. Including me. That situation has been happening a lot this year, with vocal concerts, musicals, and creative writing shows falling on the same weekend as a theatre event and yet theatre never seems to win these epic contests for approval.

PSHH. THEY JUST JEALOUS!!

Band Names

2011-01-03T21:46:00.000-08:00

One of the most important things I have learned as a teenager is that you must keep yourself occupied with random pointless things at all times. Blogging to no one is an example, so is Facebook, but the better unimportant time wasters come from the endless expanse that is the teen imagination. For instance, me and my friends have spent hours and hours thinking of great band names we will never remember, but the ones that stick always cause a great ruckus over the next few days while me and Connor (both drummers) beg another of our friends (usually Riley or Cameron) to learn to shred at the guitar so that we may combine forces with Joe (a bassist) and create the world's most awesome band.

Now more important than the ruckus are the band names themselves and many would be surprised at the originality and creativity of our best band names such as:

Nerds Of Anarchy

Forget the Girl

Gerbil Bounce

Up Syndrome

Memorial

Crude Humor

and Johnny B and the Stilettos.

The debate shall never end as to which of these we shall use when we DO create that world-ending band.

How To: Procrastinate Properly

2011-01-02T18:02:00.000-08:00

Step 1) Find something you really need to do. (This works better if that thing is school/work related and is due in between 1-3 weeks).

Step 2)Exaggeration of the amount of time you have to do it. Say you have two weeks left.

   Example: "You should really get going on that critique review."
   "Are you kidding me? I have like a month left!"

Step 3) Denial.
   Example:"That project is a big deal, it counts a lot on your grade."
   "What, this? No, it's just a filler project."

Step 4: Underestimate. For instance you have a paper over 2000 words and its due 2 days from now, think to yourself " I can knock that out in a couple hours" and continue to party with your friends.

Step 5: Hurry. Rush through the paper making spelling and grammar mistakes, paste the project together using Elmer's glue, cover it glitter, and make generic comments on your critique review.

Step 6: There you are, you're done. Now sit back and remember the good times you had with your friends over winter break.

Nostalgia of the Forgetful

2011-01-01T12:22:00.000-08:00

And there I was as the count down began for sure and I see that one minute is left in this happy year that is ours. And as flashes of endless nights and short days fly through my mind like one of the many planes I have flown on this year, I spontaneously begin speaking, to no one and everyone together and I say:

"Goodbye to this year of ours, the greatest year of my life, the good times and the rare bad, the new friends and the old, and of course goodbye to all that has passed this year. But as we say goodbye let us not forget that a new year lies bare here in front of us, a blank sheet, a fresh canvas, and we may do with it as we may."

And now the countdown is progressing in earnest as the numbers have become single digits, and now there is time for one more thing to say.

"Let us remember to wish each of us all the best and to wish the best for ourselves and try as hard as we can to make those wishes come true."

And as those words emptied from my mouth the clock struck the midnight hour and the uproar became too big to believe. Then I turned to the side and saw her, her that I love, she that fills my world with happiness. And as I turn to her she turns to me, her bright eyes piercing into mine, and like midnight magic our lips touch and our hearts float on the breeze of romance. As quickly as it came it is gone and we return to the festivities never to speak of this joyous moment again.

Soul lifted, mind enlightened, body strengthened, I left and wandered out of the room, out of the house, down the road, and into the night, the night that is ours.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Or at least thats what I hope happened, seeing as I can only remember snatches and glimpses of last night it probably didn't but I did wake up really happy this morning, however hungover I was.

Happy New Year

A Single Moment Frozen In Time

2010-11-27T17:49:00.000-08:00

The rain comes down slowly as people huddle inside their warm houses lighting fires and making their wish lists that will always include "better weather". I sit and surf the web for something sustaining to keep me interested while I wait out the rest of this thanksgiving by myself due to unforeseen circumstances.

In the adjacent room, the t.v is on and my family watches the USC game to which I laugh and just think to myself, "University of Spoiled Children". My embarrassingly short and straitened hair is the only thing keeping me from tearing up the town with my friends. Oh well, at least I know what my hair looks like straight.

Random thoughts are random.

Mumbling To Myself

2010-11-19T05:03:00.000-08:00

The end of one era the beginning of another, friendships will dry and new ones will spring from the ground like I hope they will. Uprooted and forlorn, I must leave this old life and go into the vibrant world that is ahead of me. Suddenness of news hurts less than a drawn-out explanation for it leaves no brief moment to take in the insanity of the unfolding events. If it can be changed it will be changed by force of Will (pun). Traveling along a road of grievance and confusion one will alway stop to take in the sickly flowers and enjoy the fading silver-lining in all things. Violets are blue, roses are red, daises are yellow, the flowers are dead, the farmer no longer exists and his flock of sheep will soon follow another, as if the first had not meant a thing. To stay or not to stay is a choice taken from me by one who does not deserve to make the simplest of choices.

I swear I didn't want to make it sound as suicidal as it does. Oh well.

I Remember Harry

2010-11-15T21:00:00.000-08:00

All the excitement about the new Harry Potter movie is making me remember. Remember all the days I just spent in my room with those thick books reading about a fictional teenage wizard and his death-defying/ world changing adventures. It all took place in a magical world in Britain which is in itself like a magical world to me thus doubling the magicalness.

I met Harry when I was 11 and he happened to be 11 too. He had jet black hair and I was dirty blonde. I was tall and he was short. He lived with a mean family in England and I had a wonderful loving family here in America. But we were so alike in ways I cannot seem to come to grips with. We both yearned to be something more than just a lonely kid on the playground watching all the others and simply knowing we could do that too if we were only given the chance. As the story went on I got wrapped up in his special magical world and was able to forget about my own. It was a wonderful escape that can be achieved whenever I want it to. If dad is yelling or Bryan's being an asshole, if Mom is complaining or Sean is too busy being a know-it-all college student, I can slip away to this place that knows of no such things that can't be solved by a broomstick and a potion.

All through Middle School I read, and read, and read. 7 times I completed the series and when the 7th book went on sale I waited for 6 hours in line to get it at midnight and read until the sun came up. I did just that, then again the next day, and the next, finishing on the third day with tears in my eyes knowing that there could be no more. No more Hermione being the sensible one, no more hated potions teacher, no more arch nemesis with slitted snake eyes, no more escape.

In 8th grade I all of a sudden got some social skills and Rock Band to better achieve "friends" and was very successful in finding the 4 coolest 14 year olds on this planet. And when it came to be my turn, I was accepted into My Hogwarts. School Of The Arts, where I could escape every day for 3 hours and do what I love to do. Turns out we all have some Harry in us.

S.R.S - Sappy Romantic Sh*t

2010-11-14T21:21:00.000-08:00

Your eyes remind me of moonlight on a lake And when your eyes look into mine it makes my heart quake.

I think of all the fun we’ve had, our experiences together,

I wish I could relive them all and be with you forever.

I have a big question to ask you, and I know you will decide,

To accept my heartfelt offer and be always by my side.

I tell you girl I love you like Kitty loves mouse,

And when you’re not around I am a prisoner in my house.

Can I think of a time when you're not on my mind?

Can I think of a place of a place of my heart you cannot find?

You can always make me smile I can always make you grin,

But are you truly feeling this great love that we are in?

I go up to you and ask you, “Will you be mine?”

Oh you won’t, that’s fine I’ll just sit here and rhyme.

Not about anyone specific, just my little S.R.S.

Swag Part 2

2010-11-02T19:30:00.000-07:00

You can let those brothers dis me, cuz their sisters want to kiss me, you can let those others hate me, cuz their girls gon' date me, Im an old school, old fool, big tool, short stool, every other day Im the dictator of the school, you can't listen to me, all you do is drool, I make the water colder when I jump into a pool, people just can't handle me shit I'm that cool, the wimpy words of wisdom coming from he white fool.

My Swag

2010-10-25T21:55:00.000-07:00

My swag is legendary/ more than extraordinary/ mortal born in February/ god-like if you fuckin dare me/ to who/ you/ blue like a smurf party, I show up rarely tardy, French like I was born in Lardi, you know I can't hear it if im rapping wrong so save all of your damn comments till Im done with the song. My swag can't be compared, try to fight me if you dare, if you care, aint nobody you can scare, im your nightmare bitch. I got all the nuke codes, eating all your fro-yo, I get all the dope dough, it don't matter where you go, to and fro, we're toe to toe. Like boxers, I party like Rockstars, even with my bitches you know they all call me cock star. I put all your dealers in the ghetto behind locked bars, my reach go out that far, even got a pimpin car. With 22s you know I got 22s ride you till you're feelin blue, me and money stuck like glue.

Deuces.

My Little Fixes

2010-09-27T18:44:00.000-07:00

Today, I got up late and had to sprint into the BART train as the doors were just closing. it was really close and then, once I got on the train and found a place to stand (there were no seats left) I realized something. I had forgotten my headphones, my beloved listening device had been left at home. And then I remembered why it was still at home. Its broken. It seems Ductape CAN fix everything but it can only fix some things temporarily.

Another thing that was only fixed temporarily by ductape were my Rock Band drum pads. I am BEAST at Rock Band, just ask any of my neighbors, friends, family, or Xbox Live friends. I can wail on expert with my eyes closed. Anyways, in order to get so damn awesome at Rock Band I had to did some real damage to my set over the time I played. Eventually every pad I had was no longer Rubber, as they came, but Ductape. Unfortunately, my yellow pad is now completely screwed and I cant play Rock band anymore.

So, I have lost my beloved headphones, my beloved drum pads, and Im now slowly losing my mind. Why? Cuz I need my fix. By wailing on those drums or rocking to my sick beats, I could release, relax, refuel. But now all I have is the internet and well, this blog.

Thanks for being my daily fix guys.

No Place Like School

2010-09-21T19:53:00.000-07:00

That steep driveway might as well be a yellow brick road. The quad might as well be the Emerald City. The drama studio, where the Wizard is, might as well be Oz's lair. I feel like a really artistic Dorothy, with a cast of characters taking the place of the lion, the tin man, and scarecrow. This whole experience has been so magical, so wonderful, like Wizard of Oz without the Wicked Witch. But like Dorothy, sometimes I feel like I want to go back to the Kansas that is Walnut Creek, where everything is friendly and familiar, during math class all I want to do sometimes is just click my heels and be back where I belong. But I know I really fit in the imaginary world, where everyone is larger than life, where every problem can be solved by some magical means. So for now I'll just make like the Cowardly Lion and ask for some courage from the Wizard.

Metaphor much?

Human's Stupidity

2010-09-20T19:39:00.000-07:00

You want what you can't have. You never know how much you had until its gone. You never know how much you've loved until you've lost. But better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all. Stiff upper lip, keep that chin up, no crying in baseball, don't rain on my parade. Always look on the bright side of life, see the silver lining, hugs are better than drugs, why are you so goddam cheery? Life isn't fair, its like a box of chocolates, like a warm summer day, like a roll of toilet paper. Don't sweat the small stuff, keep you're priorities straight, keep your head on, don't get your panties in a knot. Work hard, work before play, play well, well, well...........

Fuck it all, live, love, learn, pray, eat, and most of all remember that if ductape, super glue, tylenol, band aids, or chocolate can't fix it, its not worth fixing.

Thoughts From Places

2010-09-19T20:30:00.000-07:00

Sometimes a place can remind you of a time, a person, an experience. Where you had your first kiss, where you fell off your bike and had to get stitches, where you dyed your hair pink. The room where you told your whole life story to someone who actually listened, and then told you theirs while you listened even more intently. Sometimes these memories can be comprised into one place, a special place wherever it may be.

Walking through my friends house today I remembered all the times and experiences and replayed them like a movie in my head. Start in the "bear cave" where we have spent hundreds of hours listening to the same band, talking about the same girl saying the same things and still being enthralled by the thought of doing it again. Come in to the bathroom where we slaved for 3 hours in the middle of the night to successfully change our hair color and shock everybody at school the next day when we take off our hoods.

Walk through the kitchen and think of that time when I spilled the Dr.Pepper all over the floor, or when we made the world's best cookies. To the living room where we wasted away our lives watching Scrubs and the Food Network. Pass through the laundry room, where we had 13 takes for a single shot of a video that never went on Youtube, and come to the garage where we wailed on the shiny drums and partied all night with the lights low and the music loud. Where we decided to be best friends forever, and realized it would be impossible to even survive different high schools.

Go out through those doors that we stapled a moth's wings to from across the room with a staple gun and come into the driveway where countless times we have just sat and talked about life and love and how everything can be fixed by ductape. And then forget it all and commit to creating twice as many memories that can be seen like ghosts in the quiet suburban night.

That wasn't gay at all (sarcasm).

A Brief History Of My Universe

2010-09-16T18:33:00.000-07:00

I was born in Palo Alto, and moved to Walnut Creek in 5th grade. I was popular in 5th grade but had very few friends for the next two years and had to resort to making fun of my teachers in Youtube videos that everyone at my school saw including those teachers. Between 7th and 8th grade I went to the best Shakespeare camp ever and decided to turn my life around. In 8th grade I joined Drama after playing clarinet for two years and it changed my life. I met the four best friends of all time Techie, Beast, Mormon, and Drummy, and got into SOTA. I dyed my hair pink for a month, and blogged about it the whole time. Through a haze of Kookie Parties, rejection, and caffeine, somehow I remember it all.

BTW I'll let you figure out who those 4 are.

Morning Of Fail

2010-09-16T16:07:00.000-07:00

So I woke up this morning as usual at 5:30. I then got dressed in my Pink Floyd shirt and went downstairs to where my dad was (for reasons I may never know) already up and making pancakes. It took a while to make all these pancakes so I decided to go up stairs and have a shower to wipe the black hand off my chest.

When I come back down I say "lets go" and we leave the house with a couple minutes to spare. The trouble began about ten minutes later in the car when I realized I had forgotten my BART and Clipper cards at home in the pocket of the flannel I was wearing the day before. We get back home, I search that pocket, and the entirety of my house. I find the Clipper, but not the BART card. However, I also find a blank BART card near the computer so we decide to see if that has any money on it or at least enough to get me to SF.

So for the second time we drive to the BART station and I say Goodbye to my dad and walk towards some machines to find out how much money this ticket has on it. The machine said $5 which is EXACTLY how much I need to get to Glen park from WC. Feeling happy, I walk to the gates and slide the card in, only for it to get rejected. I swipe my Clipper but that doesn't work either.

Needless to say I had no way of getting to SF and the van didn't have enough gas in it so I just walked to my mom's office which is right across the street, and called my dad to pick me up. Thus ended my morning of fail.

I hope this a good enough excuse for not coming to school.

Black Parade

2010-09-15T19:21:00.000-07:00

I have been in war. I have painted my face, branded my chest, strained my voice and pumped my fist in 60 degree weather with my shirt off. I have experienced pain, joy, defeat, and despair. While the drums pound an army of maniacs in black paint and clothes chant their deafening war cry. The men test their strength and the women their agility in a battle that rages on and on with no hint of a resolution. Under grey skies the warriors meet and duel their wretched duel. Fairness, civility, justice, and dignity are forgotten as the drums pound on and the colors of each side clash like fire and ice. Then, the battle is stopped, the winner announced, foul play asserted, and mutiny begins.

So yeah, field day was pretty fun. 2nd place isn't bad but first place would be better. Good job CW.

Generic Bullshit

2010-09-14T19:27:00.000-07:00

Recently I have noticed the cynical reason behind everything, including good things that I like. For instance, a sign I saw in a parking garage on Sunday that said "Thank you, Drive Safe" well first off that Thank You is completely sarcastic and they should have added "For your money" at the end of it. The "Drive Safe" is merely something to remind you to keep your shitty car intact so you can come back in here and we can say "Thank You For Your Money" once again.

Another thing I've noticed is the effect that certain things have on you that you don't consciously notice. For instance, you may notice that when on crack you become a little crazier and your personality changes quite a bit. The same is true for nearly all "hard" drugs like meth and heroin. However, other things that change your behavior like caffeine and sugar especially can be very subtle when in low amounts. For example, I used to take a mini-can of Coke every day at lunch and I would fall asleep on BART. But now I drink a full sized can and I don't feel drowsy at all. However, the effect wears off after a lot of use, because your body gets used to it. This is a sign of addiction when you need it and more of it every time. Therefore, I now KNOW I'm addicted to caffeine. And porn. But that's another subject. :)

Systematic Chaos

2010-09-13T21:16:00.000-07:00

So I have noticed over the past few weeks, a very good pattern has developed. A) My friends in WC aren't forgetting me as I thought they would, B) Im making new friends in SF perfectly well, and Im even attracting some attention from the opposite sex which is a new and unreal feeling for me. Now I know Mormon was right about skinny jeans, they work. C) My household isn't falling apart at all, an encouraging sign judging that it is costing $60 just to get me to and from SF every week.

BART is even becoming more awesome. Just today I jammed to a Slipknot song for 3 and a half minutes with a full imaginary drum set on a crowded BART train. I walked in slow motion out of the station, and then sprinted across the parking lot and crosswalk to my mom's office.

But above all, the kookie party lives on! (Alienating inside joke FTW)

The First of Many

2010-09-09T19:34:00.000-07:00

Hey, My name is Will. I live in Walnut Creek. However, I go to school in San Francisco, which makes my life vaguely interesting. BART takes up half of my day, and my school includes 3 to 4 hours of Theater class everyday. But I don't go to any private school my rich-ass parents are paying for. I go to SOTA which means its free and twice as good. The people I meet, the places I go, and my daily thoughts are interesting enough to me that my own egotistical self thinks you might enjoy all the shit I have to say. Therefore, welcome to my blog!