Midnight Radio

Advice. It's like what-ever-you-need (please, note the intentional use of need, not want) behind a nice big, huge, impassable glass wall. On my way home from somewhere some day ago, I was trying to relate this to something else in life. This, you see dear listener, is the way in which I relate the world. I suppose it is my divine goal to tie everything together to one simple truth. How wonderfully fantastic. My, how I digress. The fruit of my contemplation came in the form, so often as it does, in the form of math. Perhaps not in the typical fashion, but none the less it has once again served its humble duty to assist man in understanding the universe. Advice is much like a math problem. The Advice I'm referring to is that of blatant dictation, rather than helpful suggestions. When, for example, you want to date someone, you are told that you should or should not. If you follow your advice that you should not- you avert temporary disaster, if you decide in the contrary - you are subjected to momentary agony, but learn from it. Such as a math problem. You can either have someone give you the answer, resulting in full marks and a correct answer ( or an incorrect one, but that is not the point of this broadcast), but when it is time for the next question, if your partner in crime is absent, then you'll not know what to do. I suppose this is why I my temper works overtime when I'm chastised for not following the advice of the "experienced" ones. This is not to say that taking advice is a bad thing, if the consequences of failure are of an intolerable nature, then my advice is to follow the advice of those prudent prudes. 

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Dear Office of Admissions,

I always right when I'm emotional. That's my modus operandi, that's just how I function. I write when my soul flares, I write when my heart breaks, I write when my eyes are dry, I write when there's something to write about. Tonight, I write not because I have something in particular to write about, but rather because I'm overflowing with emotions. You see, ever so long ago, two months if i were to estimate, I solemnly vowed, again, to have no part or thing to do with any creed of relationship. I had made a previous arrangement before my last relationship, but I broke that out of desperation, I broke it to help someone at what ever cost that befell me. That didn't turn out so well, apparently I get upset when I don't like the person i'm in a relationship in. Woops.

Today, however, I write to you from a broken promise. Today, I write to you as a person who has fallen blindly into a relationship. Now, I ought to explain why this is different than any other relationship I've fallen into. With my first relationship this year, It wasn't planned per se, but it was coordinated and executed according to a plan. There wasn't enough chemistry to instantly bond us together, hell, we there wasn't enough to make us enjoy our time together. The next relationship... Well that was more of an attempt at a relationship more than anything. Everything was as planned as a day callander, from the first date, to the first kiss, everything was planned and everything was predetermined. This relationship was actually less to do with a relationship, as much as it was me pulling away person A from person B, because person B was severely fucking over person A, who I was mildly amicable to through a common hatred of person B. Confusing? Yes. Rule #n, never build a relationship on a hatred. This relationship ended soon enough, followed by what seemed to be an eternity of peaceful grey, where I focused on my friendships and my life, it was a wonderful time, a time where there were no secrets, no misunderstandings, a time I really grew to understand myself. Then popped a certain gust of wind, a breeze (as mentioned in my previous article), who snatched up my interest, for seemingly no reason.

It is unlike me, especially after taking an oath of abstinence from relationships, to even lightly pursue anything about this breeze. So, with my better judgment discouraging me, and a combined seven years of relationship experience (from myself and various friends) clearly saying 'Keep away', without as much as a second thought, I popped an email to my friend Breeze.

Hm.

So after some light fair of conversation, and by light, I mean almost anemic, we quickly forgot about one another and moved on. Until, one night, not too terrably long ago, I decided to poke said breeze, who from this moment forward will be known as Yoseff, and to try one more time to get some sort of talk out of him. We once again started with some light fair, but this time, we exchanged phone numbers. After one last wireless provider check, we both fell asleep in our respective beds.

The next day Yoseff texted me, and we continued to text non-stop for almost two days. Then we went to a movie that Sunday, then the next day, then the next day, then the next day, then the next day. For almost five days, the two of us were inseparable. It turns out that Yoseff, who I had thought to be a shallow, me-hating, cute face, was actually a deep, exciting, extraordinarily nice, me-liking, cute face. Wow.

Wow.

Turns out.... I really like this person, and it's much different from my previous fore' into liking someone. This time, it just clicked. This time there was no meditation, this time we actually enjoyed being around each other. Now whether I'm just a replacement for him, or whether he'll eventually he'll grow bored and tired of me, I don't know. But what I do know, is that I enjoy him. I enjoy all our time together, I enjoy his personality, his talks, his everything. I'm not scared of being with him, I'm not nervous to be around him. I genuinely care for his emotions. Perhaps we have only known each other for a week, perhaps that is true. But how long did Romeo know Juliet? How long did Dido know Aeneas, how long did Adam know Eve? In any light, I'm not professing my undying love for him, I am merely expressing my pot of emotions I have for him, my wonderful closeness that I feel with him, the bond I think we might have.

Of course, I am now in my second year of dating as a whole, so I am scared. I am scared that I'll grow attached and he'll push me away. I'm scared he'll leave me for someone else. I'm scared of being replaced again. I'm afraid of getting hurt. I'm scared he'll realize all my flaws and decide I'm not worth them. I'm especially scared that he'll reunite with bastard face, not only for me loosing him, but for him loosing himself.  I'm not scared of hurting him, because I can't. I simply couldn't. I'm terrified. I so carefully avoided all this, I so particularly tried not to get involved because I knew I'd get hurt. But the happiness he's given me, well, I wouldn't trade it for the world.

So if you're reading this Yoseff, I'm scared, but I'm excited. I'm nervous, but I'm strong. I'm worried, but I'm hopeful. Yoseff, you're an  unparalleled delight to be with. I drew you something in photo shop land called perfect. So here you are, from a humbled person, writing from a broken promise.

Perfect

So, every once in a while we encounter people who, for some reason or another, we feel like we know. It's an odd sensation, perplexing at its most understood. Why is it that this person, a person who aside from the casual hello and wave, I feel like I’ve known intimately for ages? Why is it that I can picture every made up story with a crystal vividness? What is it about this person that is so evoking?

It's rather funny to note how attached one can become to these 'breezes'. How the prospect of a next encounter can stir your heart just as seeing a long missed friend. It's particularly special how everything else becomes a secondary concern when the breeze catches your heart. Now I know that the breeze is not the same as the person. The breeze has everything I want, the breeze is who I dream about napping on during a train ride, the breeze is the fellow who walks me in the park, the breeze is the perfect idea of what a man should and could be for me, but most importantly; the breeze is not real. It is with this knowledge, knowledge obtained by perusing people as if they were breezes, that I know that this person is not real, that everything I think he can give me is not, everything i think he is, he is not. I must remember this, this time. It's hard enough trying to hug a breeze, but at least you know it's not real. It is when you try to hug a breeze thinking it is real, it is this sensation that causes damage. 

I'm in love with a breeze. Is it for better? If it isn't real, it can't hurt me, I can't hurt it, and the taste it leaves in my mouth is as sweet as the clouds, if for only a second before it sweeps away. But what can it mean when a breeze mixes and mingles with your memories, when your past is altered and injected with this ghost? What happens when you know your breeze and have memories of your breeze? 

Just breeze on through and don't chase the breeze. Breezes don't have goals of destinations, they don't care where they take you, they don't much care for anything.

I often start writing these little snipits of my life without much knowledge of how it's going to end. I never start knowing what I'm going to write, i just feel this urge to write. I could write about my day, but I don't care about my day -- so I really doubt that my imaginary audience cares either, and that'd be rude for the D.J. to ignore his audience's feelings.

It's remarkable, truly. How confused people make me. And this is no third person view excepting myself from the group, I confuse myself most of all. I think if I could read minds, a grand amount of my problems would be resolved. Followed, of course, by an inevitable torrent of new questions which would then require some new agent to then solve those, which would then be followed by ....blah blah blah. Got the picture? The fact is, people are an enigma. Some people get bored with their soccer ball, and never touch it again. Others are bored of it and will renounce it's privileges of prime garage-rel estate, but will still play with it. For the longest time, I'd thought there was only the former, until recently when I discovered that there were people who didn't throw away their old toys.

Imagine the poor toy! Sitting there, all buddy buddy with play guy, when all of the sudden the play guy cut the strings on their relationship. Minus the initial shock of the separation, the toy thing was ready to cope with the deserted-ness which inevitably followed after the fall of any great play-guy & play-thing relationship. The play-thing sat, horribly sad and confused, he still wanted to play with play-guy, they had planned their WHOLE day together! But, play-thing had been through a situation like this before and was ready to cope. Play-thing knew exactly how to deal with being utterly deserted, and began moving out of play-guys life trying desperately not to get in the way, because play-thing only wanted to make play-guy happy, even if it meant play-thing not being happy. Play-thing had accepted this fate and moved with it. Until one day, when play-guy called play-thing out to lunch. Play-thing was confused... but the high of companionship with someone play-thing loved, the feeling of not being deserted, overshadowed this confusion. The play-thing and play-guy had more fun than they'd ever had, at least for play-thing.

Once play-guy dropped play-thing off at home, play-thing wrote him a message on the chalk board asking very simply. "Why?"  which was followed by an equally simple "Because I still love you. I don't want you out of my life". It almost made the entire fiasco worth it for play-thing. Sure, they'd said they loved each other before, but play-thing was never sure if play-guy meant it. Now he knows he did.

It was snowing that day, it was snowing and it was freaking April. Play-thing and play-guy used to always say you found love when it snowed. Play-thing was still confused, more now than ever, but had read a few brief thoughts inside play-guy's head. This brief glimpse into truth opened more questions, but I don't think play-thing wants the answers.

Funny how life turns out. Now play-thing is happy, but I wonder for how long? Luckily, I'm not a stuffed animal! Those things have complicated lives.

It's interesting to note, the most drab of your schedule can be the shining highlight of your day, whereas the crux of a day can be nothing more than a second thought in your evening synopsis.

It turns out, some of the things I really hate doing, I really do like. I like walking 3 miles to track, I like sweating, I like jumping, I like waiting.

Walking is one of those rare times in life when you have a definite purpose, to get from point A to point B. It is really refreshing, in the midst of all this future hunting, to know what you want; let alone be able to attain it. Not to mention, the scenery is particularly stunning.

As I was walking, I thought "what would be the perfect picture, what would someone want to see if I could show them this moment." Turns out, everything is surprisingly beautiful and brilliant when I took my sun glasses off. The contrast of the brown-hued landscape as scene through my u-v blocking preventatives and the natural colors found with my naked eyes, puts allot into perspective. With the normal mundane, I never notice how pretty a rusty mail box is, or how wonderful a discarded flat tire laying on the road is.

Moral: Contrast is everything.

Appreciation is a great thing, and being able to actually appreciate what you have is the greatest gift anyone can obtain. You never know what you have until you loose it, you can hear it a million times, I can type it up as ellagantly as Dickens or as blunt as Twain, but until you experience loss; there'll be no appreciation. So, contrast, yes contrast. Appreciate what you have now, so you don't have to when it's gone, that's what we call longing, and it's the greatest pain you can have the pleasure of acquainting yourself with.

It's simple, really. I promise. I do, trust me. Forever. I love you.

Dangerous words.

The kind of words that can lead a kid to sitting in the student lounge after school, looking out the open windows and wondering at the empty chairs.

I've been here before, let's say, two months ago.

I sat there, listening to his words climb through the waterfall of tears, reaching my ears soaked from the pitter patter of the dripping things. I listened, hoping to one day turn his waterfall into a rainbow, hoping one day to turn his words warm. I sat there and fired hot, steamy words to counter his sad, wet ones. I erupted with the steaming sympathy i had for him, my words evaporated his tears like the sun in the Sahara.

I realized what I had gotten myself into.

His waterfall settled, and turned into that gentle rainbow I had wanted for him, but I had given him part of my heart, part of my heart to replace the broken part of his. I reached in me, ripped off the iron shield I had worked so hard to build, riped open my heart and gave it to him.

I'd do it again.

Then, that one night, he called me. He told me things that I'd never have expected just two weeks before, things that would erect a monument in my mind for quite some time. We talked, and most importantly, we smiled. He smiled. He was happy again, for once. He deserved it. He deserves it. I knew what this could lead to, I knew what it could do to me, but for the first time in a long time, I wasn't thinking about me. I was thinking about him, and whether it be because he had my heart or because I loved his, he was more important than me.

Could I deserve this? It seemed right. It didn't seem real. Was it? In retrospect, I still don't know. I just feel the thumping grimace in my chest, reminding me that something was real.

One day, we kissed. It wasn't perfect, but It didn't bother me. I don't think it bothered him either. We kissed under the stairs, both grinning, saying nothing.

That's how I can describe the days without rain, those were the days when we smiled and said nothing. When there wasn't any need to say anything.

Then he loved me. He told me, he showed me. He promised.

I believed him. Was he lying? No.

Then we fell into habit. I could feel it, complacency.

He stopped visiting. I didn't mind, he told me why. I just wanted things to get better, that's all i ever wanted. I wanted his life to be better.

Then, I found out his secret. Then another, and another. I was scared, "please, just be careful." .. "I will." he'd say.

I meant it. Please, be careful. I still do.

I started thinking about our future. Where was it going, I thought I knew, but deep in my mind I knew where it was going. The same place I always go, the same place I spent months formulating plans and methods to avoid.

The clouds had been setting in for a while, then we fell out of complacency. He had lost habit, and it worried me. I knew it wasn't just because Mr. Smith was looking, I knew that it was over. I knew I no longer made his heart burn or his eyes sparkle. He had outgrown my heart, but I hadn't his. I knew there was trouble, but I would have labored a thousand years to fix them. But he couldn't wait, he had places to go. I understand that. That night, the lightning shot down and the thunder shook my heart.

The next day, he didn't say anything, and that was the most powerful message of all. That day, in the hall I gave him my last kiss. I was like a candle, at the very end of its wick, flickering with such power, dancing and trying everything to not burn out. That day in the hall he grabbed me and told me it wasn't whatever. I couldn't stand to hear it. I couldn't stand to see it. I couldn't let the world watch my once frozen glacier melt down into a drowning waterfall. I couldn't watch because the tears blurred my vision. My legs walked but my soul ran. My heart raced, like a wounded animal trying to escape it's hunter. Like a deer shot by a hunter in the woods, frantically running. At one point i collapsed on a desk and let the world melt down around me, all there was left was memory. I watched them fly by me like the water flowing past my eyes.

They say when you die, your life passes in front of your eyes. Well, I must have died a little that day, as I wached two months of my life fly by.

I don't blame him. I don't blame anyone. I always wanted to be that part of your life that you could come to when you needed it because even though you've outgrown my heart, you'll always have a piece of it. I'll always be here to help you, just like I've always been here to help you.

But, I sat in the student lounge, where the episode had been born, and I sat where I sat. This time, watching my own waterfall. Watching my water fall.

It took me a while to say I love you, but that's because I wasn't sure if i meant it. It turns out I did. For better or for worse. Memmorys still fly by some times, and i can feel my heart brace for impact.

At least this time, I saw it coming.

But it's no matter, no need to relish in the past. That window has been closed, and that chair has moved on to different people, so then, shall I. Au revoir.

It seems as though I've secured, in my grasp a good four hours of summer infront of me. Pure, unadulturated summer. Yes i've finished all my work. It was quite the amount of work! I'm a tad nervous for school tommorow, but I know within a week, i'll be dreading it as usual. At least I have two four day weeks instead of two 5 day weeks.

But all that business aside, It's taken me around twenty three hours combined total work to finish all my English work, not counting reading. I'm afraid that I never want to read this book, actually, see this book for the rest of my life. It was good, don't get me wrong, but it's like eating too many sweet tarts.. The first few are good. But, three and a half gallons of sweet tarts later, i'm not quite up for any more sweet tarts.

So wish me luck with school tommorow, although I'm not sure there is anything that'll require much luck tommorow. But let's hope for a good year.

Cheers to sweet tarts!

The east wind is more real than ever. It appears that as school moves ever closer, the reality of it's arrival is equally set off. I can quite hardly believe it's here. In response to my inquiry of how time so so non-tempestuous, I started to think about time.

A while back, on some long drive home, weeks past, a theory of time popped in my head that I found quite interesting, if nothing else. I've always had the intent to blog about it, but never quite had the will or the free time. Now, I have the will, but I'll just take the free time out of my savings that i have. Time, is similar to a geometric plane. Infinite, unending, intangible, and has no dimensions. a theoretical 0. Now, I continued to make ties to geometry by stating that every instance of time is a point on that plane. Infante and endless in their numbers, these points consist of every possible action that will, has, may, or may not ever happen. While we, being existance, are on a parallel plane, that uses the plane of time as a map of where to go. Each point represents a life in existance. (existance in an infanate manner, not just an earthly life/death manner, nor in an ethereal plane ither) One point represents, for sake of example, one of us. Each of us are  alligned with one point on the plane of time, which contains all of our actions that we will ever partake.

Now, while we are using this time plane, the question of time travel is surley on everyone's mind. But, I don't believe that looking at time in a linear sense is the right way of looking at things. In each point, there is an infanant number of possibilities and events, that we could ever imagine of having. Now, while we are alligned with our particular point, the question of mobility arrises. Sense a point is just as infanite as a plane, and it having no dimensions, it has all the potential. And in theory, for us to move in time, would be absolutly worthless because we are in an infante plane, so going +1, -1, it doesn't matter because infinity +1 or -1, is still infinity. So you could ask, "why can't i move my point and have someone elses point?" well, first is the question of being able to move something. We can't move a point, it's not in the same realm as dimensional objects, it can't move, because it's infanite and nothing at the same time. So moving infinity infinity times, would still have it at infinity. Ergo, we can't move our existance to someone/thing else's span of existance. Their point on the time plane is uniquely theirs, and is imposible to share.

Now, after thinking through this, I questioned the relevance of the subject to the topic of my concept of reative time. How 3 months is so much shorter now than it was years ago. I brain stormed this idea:

Time, as we know it is completly relative. 1 hour maybe or may not be as long as one hour was years ago in our minds (although physically it is). As we grow, we encounter more, every moment of our existance, we are aging. In our age, we aquire more memmorys. When we think of time, we are really just comparing this current moment to the rest of the moments we've ever had in our life. So, when we were just born, everything was completly new. We had nothing to compare anything to. We had all the time in the world to think about the color of the wall, or what have you. We analyzed it, thought about it, imagined it. But, all in these moments, we had very little to compare this wall to. Now, at the ripe old age of sixteen, I have trillions of moments in my memmory available for comparison when I see a wall. So, I don't spend any time truly contemplating the subject of the wall, because i've allready done it to similar things in the past. So, the three months of summer now, are faster because i have more memmorys to compare everything to, and nothing is completly new to me. So, when you're saying time flys because your having fun, it's because your not taking that time to over analyze things, like you do when your bored. When you look at the same thing and analyze it over and over and over. And you keep doing that because our minds our restless.

Then, why do we as humans love repatition? We love repatition because we don't like thinking! So when we can do things subconciously, we're happier because we really don't have to think all that much.

So in conclusion, time is comparative. Every moment is spent comparing this moment to another.

The east wind blows for me tonight!

Now then, we all quite remember the days far past of the N64, and all the amazing Zelda games that came with it (only two I think, but thats not important). Now, direct your memory, if you'd please to Majora's Mask. The basis of the game was that you had three days to save the world before the moon came crashing down into the earth, utterly destroying everything.

Now, it seems, that someone has put my life, quite unwillingly, into an N64 box, and has started playing me. Because now, on the dawn of the second day, the moon that is th English Language is still very ominous, and shows no sign of slowing it's decent into my life. Yes. I have two more days to stop it, two more days to finish this English homework, before it crashes into my life. Unfortunately, I have misplaced my ocarina of time, so I can't control time like our dear friend Link could, in the actual game.

So, wish me luck N64 veterans, I'm on quest to evade the impending doom of the falling moon.