PURPLiSH GRAPE version O01:MM GRAPES

hide in the bathroom.

yayyay4naynay@hotmail.com — Mon, 17 Nov 2008 21:23:43 GMT

okay, so as promised, i went searching for the law yesterday concerning dropping out in new york.
well, they say that all children are to be in school from the ages of 6-16, so i guess that's up for interpretation. it can be taken as until you turn 17 or the day you turn 16...gah. however, there are exceptions to that law, such as homeschooling and working full time. that way, instead of a 30 hour (estimated) week, i'd only be there for 20 hours; cutting off 2 hours of each day and allowing me to work full time, or at least to the fullest extent of the law.
i think i'll definitely look into it...however, i still have to cement things with ROTC and see if what i'm doing is what they'd accept. hopefully, they will.
hm. can you get a GED behind a school's back? ehh. i doubt it, but whatever.
if anything, i'll probably wind up joining ROTC in the spring of 2010. again, this is only if they pay for most or all of my college education. if they don't, fuck it, i'll go to the cheapest community college i can go to and work my way up from there.
this is becoming more and more like an actual personal journal, and not just my psychotic ramblings about living from day to day. i don't like it.
might as well keep up with the flow, i guess. during my study hall and lunch period, instead of going to the library where i said i was going, i went to the bathroom and just...eh, i don't know. hung out.
i was feeling really depressed all day, and the bathroom has always been a source of weird comfort for me. hell, even as i type this i'm in my bathroom.
perhaps it's the chill bouncing off of the tiled floor, onto the tiled walls and settling into the people? the sanitary smell? i don't know...
i just like it, i guess. i just like it.

school is schooling me.

yayyay4naynay@hotmail.com — Mon, 17 Nov 2008 04:54:12 GMT

school is kicking my ass lately...or rather, i guess i'm letting it kick my ass.
the teachers are incompetent, the work sets the bar quite low, and just everything there...everything there is horrible. how i ever could've hated my previous school (aside from the kids) is far beyond me.
i guess i realized that trying would be futile when i recieved a worksheet i did for social studies back, graded and everything. the first one had a check plus on it, which is the highest you can get. i was fine with that. figuring the next two would have the same grade to offer, i looked at them, my guards lowered and my expectations high.
i got a lower grade because i didn't read my teacher's mind.
the worksheets asked very concise questions. they asked something like, "when did the north and south tower of the world trade center get attacked?" note the when, and not the what, why, where, and how. so, i would answer "september 11, 2001."
I GOT OFF BECAUSE I DIDN'T GO ABOVE AND BEYOND THE QUESTION?
give me a fucking break. if it was an essay, no fucking duh i would go above and beyond; going above and beyond for ESSAYS are expected.
for a worksheet? yeah right.
not only that, but i'm learning things that will never be of use to my everyday life. sorry, as riveting as sex is, i don't need to know all the ins and outs of biology.
i know i'm being a brat. i guess i'm just extra sensitive (a symptom of speshul snowflake syndrome) because i know i could be working full time this year and most of next year and earn money for my family. then i'd be able to go to ROTC a year early and get everything done faster.
instead, i'm sitting there rotting in a school that i absolutely detest and have no use for.
fuck. i've been looking for loopholes through the whole dropping out at 16 thing (you have to stay for school the year you TURN 16, not the year you become 16) and i've found nothing. mind you, i'm particularly skilled with finding loopholes through documents and laws and such for other people, so if it were something to help save myself and my family, i'd have found something by now.
oh well. i'll keep on searching. i'll not waste anymore time.
time is all i have.

another mindless rant...

yayyay4naynay@hotmail.com — Sun, 16 Nov 2008 00:39:56 GMT

i can't explain this feeling when i hear this song, and a few others that i just can't think of at the moment. the feeling that i've known about them all my life, that in certain scenes of my legacy they were right there playing beside me, matching the rhythm of my feet hitting the school's cold ground, looking at decorations.
i haven't known about this song all too long. maybe a year? maybe. but these scenes, they're a couple of years old at least, i think.
i'm losing it, i can't even remember my life. it's all become so monotonous, too monotonous, and while monotony is safety, safety is not what i want and not what i can live by and just NOT the kind of code i want my life to adhere to.
i want my life to be running into shops and shouting some politically incorrect nothings towards the owners and running right back out with someone by my side, panting with laughter and pain as we dart across the slippery wet sidewalk. not nice, yeah, but almost a beautiful cycle in a teenager's life: i am not supposed to give a fuck.
but i give all the fuck in the world.
i want to run into the supermarket with a camcorder, not caring who looks at me and my friends as we gallavant around the store, picking up loaves of bread and throw them back down -- screaming that you murdered the baby!
i act like i'm so above them and all that, but i'm not. i'm really not. in fact, i would gamble to say that i want it more than anyone else.
on the outside, i might act disgusted that my cousin has gone so far with her boyfriend. however, inside i'm just so confused and so lost and wondering where she's going. go even further, and you'll find that my curiosity about her distance is quite tangible, yet will never happen and is not quite real.
i want to lay down in the graveyard with her again, as much as she and i have changed, i'll always be there for her and i hope it's likewise in her mind.
i say i want, want, want. however, how do i know that i don't need this? i can already feel my life shifting in a direction that i've always despised and hated the thought of: monotony.
no kids, no husband, work work work. to keep my family comfortable, so my brother and sister don't have to worry about their college being a burden on mom and dad, so i can feel like i'm valued and needed and wanted and loved.
i need to feel alive. i am six-fucking-teen, damn it. i refuse to act double my age. i refuse and feel violently sick at the thought of letting myself feed this monster and keep it alive.
but i do it anyway.
a raunchy, disgusting comparision. am i raping myself?
i'm saying no, i don't want it...but i do it anyway.
i'm so confused. oh God, i hate this.

there are no lesser qualities to admit if they're not acknowledged.

yayyay4naynay@hotmail.com — Sat, 15 Nov 2008 02:05:56 GMT

i sit here, pondering what to right yet knowing i have to.
humans are falliable. no one is exempt, and we can only try and go about our daily lives while keeping this truth close to the mind and far from the heart.
i've no lessons of particular interest; i just turned sixteen four days ago. i know less than the dunce and more than the genius. intelligence is both relevant and irrelevant -- a paradox.
i know less than the eight year old and more than the eighty year old. age is another paradox, and science can only prevent so much.
destiny is nothing more than a planner. you are the one in charge, ultimately. they lay out the options, and when something goes a certain way, they'll change everything. destiny is working 24/7. destiny will be the one to see what will happen if you stay in your bed and pass on that midnight snack. destiny will also be the one to deal with the death compiled together by a hardwood floor, water someone spilled, and the monstrosity of science that is gravity coupled with the sharp corner of the glass coffee table.
there's always a chance of anything happening. destiny is the most ruthless, conniving motherfucker on this planet.
destiny is also the most compassionate, creative wonder on this planet.
it's all up to you -- another truth people don't like to admit. i don't like to admit it, just like my friends don't like to admit it, just like you don't like to admit it, just like your friends don't like to admit it.
we take so much for granted. when something marevelous happens, we sit around contemplating what would've happened had we not taken what seemed like that misstep towards the gold hiding in the shack.
we then get cocky, and figure we are invincible. seems correct.
we take chances and leap, and after that, nothing seems to go right. humbled, we do the same thing: we sit around contemplating. however, this time it was a deliberate step towards the door embroidered with fool's gold and woven with the siren's song.
it's a process. as montonous as it seems, we're all part of process that is kept alive with different scenarios and millions of different outcomes.
life is a paradox, in itself. the outline is spontaneous, filled with surprising twists and turns. the format is, however, the same old.
is it inevitable?

bom bom. bom bom. bom bom. bom bom. bom bom. bom bom. bom bom.

yayyay4naynay@hotmail.com — Thu, 13 Nov 2008 03:49:29 GMT

my heart beats skillfully with the music.
he messaged me. i thought he didn't care about me anymore.
this makes me doubt everything i've done with him for the past couple of years. i wish i had been more bolder, had chased after him a bit longer and later, had held on to everything and not been so scared.
the second i got with him, nothing but doubt rose from my mind. ah brian -- if only i could've told you how sick i was.
you wouldn't have understood, i think.
i need to lighten up.
if i could have the second chance, i'd make it count.
if i could pinpoint the exact second in time where i turned into this thing, i'd turn right back from it and say "no, thanks."
perhaps a letter to a friend could wire this heart correctly and set it drumming to the tune it's set to go to.

Imagination Is More Important Than Knowledge...Well, Aren't I Caught Between A Bad Place And A Wall?

yayyay4naynay@hotmail.com — Wed, 15 Oct 2008 22:06:07 GMT

I don't think I've ever felt truly dejected; as though my spirit had actually dashed out of my body as soon as it could, trying to get as far away from the truth as possible.
I don't quite feel alive right now. These are the times when I wish I could feel blood running down my body, the cuts both stinging and healing. Not because of hurt, just to feel something as vibrant as laughter without having to be happy, something as vibrant as yelling without having to be angry.
It couldn't hurt, and no one would ever know. No one but me, that is. That little bit of knowledge is what repels me from it.
I've sort of just realized, honestly really realized, that I will never be better than her, not even up to par. I have no imagination, nothing. I had to pretend to have an imaginary friend, had to commit myself to countless Barney tapes to see what they were seeing.
Now, through my own doing and thinking, I hate art, hate choir. I can't draw without this disgusted feeling creeping over me, can't sing without feeling ridiculous.
The closest thing to making art I've come to is leaving my footprints in the snow, rapid and paced with running. Left my trail through the decomposing leaves, marked with the trudgery I hold my life in. The closest thing I've come to making music was matching the thump-thump of my heart, timing my heavy breathing just so, exhaling to hear the pat-pat of my soles against the cement.
She'll be fine, so I can stop worrying. She'll get paid with her raw, stark talent and her ability to weave imagination and with a pen. She'll be able to provide for her family and live her life.
I love my family, and I have no life. Working for them...what have I got to lose?
If that's the case, why do I still find that I have to try and convince myself of such?

Hi, I'm Apparently Ignorant/Insensitive For Being A Constitutionalist. :D And What's Your Name?

yayyay4naynay@hotmail.com — Tue, 14 Oct 2008 10:44:41 GMT

I am currently unable to go to sleep. This one issue has been nagging at me for the past few months, and I can't seem to put it to rest.
First off, I am a very, very strong believer in the Constitution -- particularly the first ten amendments, the Bill of Rights. When my country follows the Constitution, I feel that everything runs a lot better. However, when we start taking rights guaranteed to us both by birth and by our country itself, things start to get a bit shaky. A good example of a time such as that would be to look at the past eight years and to see for yourself.
Second off, uh...no, I don't hate homosexuals or the mentally handicapped because "That's so retarded/gay" occasionally slips out of my mouth. Hey, I'm sorry, but it was always my belief that I had freedom of speech -- so long as I wasn't infringing upon anyone's rights.
Now calling someone a nigger, kike, fag, chink, etc? That's different; you're deliberately trying to talk down to that person, or that one group of people. Thus, they feel threatened and their rights are being infringed.
However, when you're calling an event, an object, or anything among that sort "so gay/retarded", why should someone feel threatened? I'm sorry, but I fail to see how. Even when I thought I was bisexual at 10 or 11 or so, I had to force myself to believe that the usage of those words were wrong, and that I should think that it was wrong.
I really never believed it though.
So, I hate it with a burning passion when someone tells someone else to stop using their preferred adjective of choice when not trying to talk down to someone, but rather, express their feelings or opinions, no matter how crude it may seem. Yeah, there are better adjectives, but in my opinion, there are worse.
Oh, but wait! "The ICCPR [International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights] recognizes the right to freedom of speech as 'the right to hold opinions without interference. Everyone shall have the right to freedom of expression'". That one is recognized in international human rights law.
The right to hold opinions without interference. Huh, but that sounds familiar. Say, isn't that what people who believe that saying "that's so gay/retarded" are allowed to think and practice as well?
NOT WHEN YOU'RE TRYING TO INFRINGE THAT PERSON'S RIGHT TO SAY WHAT THEY WANT, WHEN THEY WANT, AND HOW THEY WANT SOMETHING. WHEN SOMEONE IS NOT TALKING DOWN TO A PARTICULAR GROUP (which, when people say "that's so gay/retarded", that is very rarely the case) THEY ARE ENTITLED TO WHATEVER ADJECTIVES THEY PREFER TO USE.
(Of course, one should always take into consideration where they are when using said or other debateable adjectives, that is, using a bit of discretion around children.)
Have I truly ever tried to defend this right of mine in the past, or try to help someone out when being accused of being ignorant, or try to help some of the people harassing other people about their choice of words realize that they are attempting to take away both a country and God given right up until this point? No, I haven't. Saying "Hey, I'm a constitutionalist and technically, you trying to limit someone's freedom of speech while using yours to the fullest extent is just a little bit wrong" doesn't exactly go over well in places like GSA and among groups of liberal friends.
This reminds me of Micheal Vick's case. He was indicted of one count of torturing and killing dogs and holding illegal dog fights, possibly among other charges I'm not aware of at this time. While so very morally wrong and possibly against state law, the Constitution is the highest form of law. Technically, the dogs were nothing more than property, and the unlawful seizure of such property and using it for public use is illegal and goes against the Constitution, which is outlined in Amendments 4 and 5.
Could the Constitution be better? As seen in the above example, of course. All living things have a chance at life, and that should most certainly be defined and outlined in the Constitution.
Ergh...anyway, what I'm saying is that people should be able to say what they want without others trying to infringe upon other's rights. And, at this moment in exact time, aren't there better things to worry about?
HAI I ARE HYPOCRITE. :]
But I just needed to get this off my chest.
...and, just in time to get ready for school.

Aimez-Moi Si Vous Osez.

yayyay4naynay@hotmail.com — Fri, 10 Oct 2008 01:08:44 GMT

My entries, as well as my feelings, are far removed from loneliness. If it so happens to accidentally creep up, I know how to conquer over those feelings and to bury them, bury them horribly mutilated and dead.
I, of course, wouldn't go as far as to say that loneliness is no longer a part of me; I don't believe any human being is fully capable of removing a part of human nature.
I've come to go out of my way to ensure my loneliness, and while I'm quite polite, am very irritated when someone comes to try and "help" me.
I did it in my old hometown, and I knew that telling myself that it wouldn't happen now was futile. She just needs to realize that as well.
Sorry to say, but yes, things have been going on and no, I haven't been entirely truthful in my messages to you.
I am a bit sickened, admittedly. How you can still get me jealous a good 30 miles away both perplexes and angers me. I guess I haven't grown up as much as I thought I have.
I am declaring this officially dead, with a possibility of resuscitation for a bit of gossip when I'm feeling vengeful, a vent when my pen has run and the power is out, and a reason to make me feel simultaneously better and worse about myself.
I am making this all about me.
Cheers, old friend.

Seasonal Bubble Wrap.

yayyay4naynay@hotmail.com — Thu, 09 Oct 2008 02:47:27 GMT

I was supposed to walk that day, but I couldn't go on due to my sprained ankle. Autumn is here, and has been settling in for the past few weeks. I used this reasoning to allow myself to lay down in the grassy field; where in the middle I'd be only a small supposed figment of someone's imagination. I figured there would be no bugs, and if I got sad thinking about how big the world is and how lonely I felt at that moment, a maternal wind could come over to hold me.
Strangely enough, I was comforted not by the wind but rather, by knowing that these few months were mine. The decorations, the children, the happiness, all mine. Through artificial and vain reasoning, I prevented myself from getting depressed while looking up at another star soaked sky with a beautiful moon and a gradient the greatest artists themselves could never dream of capturing.
It never occured to me that I only have a few months.
It also never occured to me that I'm wasting my life, and am letting my anxiety inhibit me to the point of crippling repression.
I climbed up and down a majestic hill today, twice -- it was quite steep, and quite high.
I didn't care whether or not I fell.

I Haven't Written In A While.

yayyay4naynay@hotmail.com — Sat, 04 Oct 2008 07:22:53 GMT

psychotic mumblings are
silent, she breathes;
cursing human reflex.
lips bleed; cracked.

floating softly to her
life, she is a rock.
an imperative want,
using altruistic sense;
it sends no solace.

For The Sake Of Us.

yayyay4naynay@hotmail.com — Sat, 06 Sep 2008 22:01:03 GMT

"She's happy now, though." With a clap on my back, she smirks. "Isn't that what you wanted?"
I stay silent.
"Or...", she said, raising her hand up to her chin, cradling it, "That's what you just told everyone else, right?"
"Yeah." I said plaintively. "Yeah, you could say that."
Having figured me out, she smiles -- one would mistake it for a sign of jubilance; quite the contrary. "That's all you have, isn't it?" She whispers, her voice stroking the hairs on the back of my neck. "At least -- you know!" She makes a grand gesture with her arm in midair, catching my eye and grinning even more, "At least you aren't judgemental, or selfish, or a liar, right?" Like a wisp of smoke, she's back at my side. "I hate to tell you," she hisses sweetly, "But those three are actually needed in life."
Those three are actually needed in life. I acidentally chuckle as I wonder out loud, "What life?"
She looks stumped for a second, but her glimmer of confusion is replaced with a fire of certainty. "The life I could have."
Smiling, I turn towards her. "You want more?"
"We both do."