Shocker: posting only a week after the last one?

I mean, maybe I'm the only one who is shocked? Although it shouldn't be a surprise. The semester is over, and I'm only working one job so I have all this...stuff on my hands. Time? What is this time thing you speak of?

Well my time is being used up by three things. Work, working OUT, and MUSIC.

Starting to work out regularly for the first time since, I think...last summer? It hurts just to think that. I'm such a freaky out of shape mess!

Work: I hate to be that person who just sits around and complains about their job, but I'm going to be. It's a rotten place. It smells like onions. My boss refuses to make a schedule, and insists on calling me and asking me to come in...right that second. No, I will not drop what I'm doing and come straight there even if I can, simply because you called me and told me to. Call me what you like, but I won't. Eesh. Can't wait to go to college and NOT work.

And music. I think I was 14 the last time I listened to this much music on a regular basis. But in an information age with FM transmitters, iPods, and multimedia smartphones, it's so much more accessible.

I want to talk about this one thing: dubstep. It seems like it's the new thing to center your life around. With good reason! According to my favorite Urban Dictionary, dubstep is music centered around bass. Or as me and my fellow listeners say, WOMP WOMP WOMP WOMP da da YAYAYAYAYAYAAYAYAYAYA.

I'm especially proud of two certain people. I'm going to be annoying and give them shout outs, but only because they are SO AMAZING I CAN'T TAKE IT. They have gifts.

The first is the one and only Matt, my dear brother. He goes by the alias, Cliche of the Day, and his mixes can be found on his Reverb Nation page.

The second is Josh, my fellow bandmate. A gifted kid, that he is. Find him on Reverb Nation also, as A.C.O.G. (A Child of God).

If you happen to find time in your busy schedule, listening to those kids would be a good use of your time. I promise you shall not be disappointed. :)

Ok I'm done shamelessly promoting my family and friends.

And so we go.

A close.

I'm going to sit here and write a blog post instead of finishing the 1000 word poli sci paper and the 5pg econ research paper I have waiting for me to do in the next five hours before the next day must begin. After all, what kind of college student would I be if I did not procrastinate as much as is physically possible?

Coming to the end of my first full year in college, I have discovered so many things. First, Mom and Dad were right. Aren't they always? When I graduated high school, I was so ready to go straight to a four year school and start my life on my own. Yet I had the voices of my parents telling me that I should stay around for one more year, which I could not fight even if I wanted to. Being a minor means your hands are tied, even when it comes to signing your own college applications. So I enrolled full time at community college and started taking credits that would transfer to my desired school, then a few just for fun.

Over the first month or so of my first semester, I was going through a serious life change, and to be honest, I don't even remember half of it. I came and went basically, made friends around the middle of the semester, lost them by the end, and altogether the only thing I had to show for that four months of my life was a 3.85 GPA. I then got to fight my way through the holidays while trying to bear the burden of a relationship that was more important to me than life going awry. Along with that, two days after Christmas I was laid off. Happy holidays.

But there was an upside to all of that. During my month off from school and work I spent a lot of time at home with my family, especially Matthew, that I am so glad that I had. I spent countless late nights up watching movies with Matt, playing music with him, and just hanging out. At the time, I felt like I was going to die from cabin fever, but looking back I realize that it was perfect timing. Because as soon as the spring semester started up again and I got a new job, I had less and less time with the family that I would, in a couple months, be moving away from. It hit me that at the end of this summer, I'm going to be leaving my house and going to college. It was really going to happen and I wouldn't have those late nights with Matt anymore, or time to hang out with my Mom, or chat with my Dad over breakfast in the morning, or say goodnight to Nicole, or go out to eat every Thursday morning with Mike, or scream for Mark when I found a spider in my room. A new time in life is approaching fast, and I need to make the most of the one I am in now.

So I started the spring semester, was able to somewhat repair my broken relationship, and a whole new set of classes. In the first week I think I changed all but two of my classes because I wasn't satisfied them, but after finally getting settled, my goal was to get a 4.0. Well I don't think that's happening, but at least I can say it was because I didn't try hard enough, not because I tried my best and failed. I made friends and lost friends. I spend too many days brooding over things I couldn't control instead of just enjoying the things I had. I worked way too much and studied way too little. Now that I'm finished, or will be after theses next 8 or so pages of writing and research, I can say that YES I wasted time, but this year was NOT a waste.

I got a chance to experience what it was like to be on my own, like working to pay for my car and gas, and going to school by myself, meeting new people. Yet still, I had the advantage of going home every night and having a solid ground to rest on.

First, thank you Mom and Dad for being right. Second, thank you county college for teaching me what I don't want out of life. Thank you to the people who showed me what I don't deserve, and those who showed me what I do.

Thank you God for keeping me alive.

And so we go.

This is a short story. In fact it will be a very short story. Probably one of the shortest stories you will ever read, if you do in fact happen to read it. The idea came in a time of boredom in recollection of recent desperation. What kind of desperation? I don’t know if you’re asking that question, but I would if were you.

The subject of our short story we will give a name to, but not a real name because where would the interest be in that? We will name her Desperate, since she is desperate, and desperately finds herself in frequent moments of desperation. There is no use describing her appearance, as it has nothing to do with the point of the story, although she may argue otherwise to the ends of the earth.

Desperate finds herself one day caught in the sickness of her usual cycle, and is having trouble breathing. This is normal to her, and she does not think anything of it until the problem progresses throughout the days and she is soon struggling for air in a way no one should have to. The trip to the hospital is a nightmare for her. Hours of waiting…waiting in desperation for air. Waiting for the jitters of her antidote to wear down. Waiting for the clock hand to move…yet no matter how long she waits it refuses to move. Waiting for the needle in her arm to fix things as it is supposed to.

The night ended in a morning, driving home to continue regular consumption of drugs and relief until she is healed. But she does not heal. Her body slowly regains strength, and her lungs empty. But she does not heal. Her mind is caught in the slow progression of time and darkness that she cannot seem to escape. She fights it through the night, and is wearied by it through the day. The understanding of her plight cannot find its way to the consciousnesses of those around her. They pass her by, unnerved perhaps by her manner, but unaware of her battle. Those she should be able to look up to or look beside herself to have somehow faded into the outskirts of her small mind. It is not her choice to forget them, but they have forgotten themselves to her, and so she has forgotten them to herself.

Could there be any single one who can fix her? Every day and every night of tears will find her searching to new ends to find something…anything to help. She finds small reliefs in short doses, but they cannot be with her always. Relief can treat a symptom, but never cure a disease.

And so she shall go.

She will go on destroying whatever she can find. Her ravaged mind will eat away at anything it comes in contact with, and she will relish the destruction that she is able to repay to the individuals around her as revenge for her hurt. And when they are gone…when every single one has left her, she will turn and she will disappear. No one will remain to grieve her, and no one will consider her loss a loss. She could have been helped.

But wait! In the dark corner of her mind lurks a light that is so small the eye may not see it. It is there. As she falls and falls, deeper into depression and loneliness, the light grows. It grows eyes and hands and feet. And with its eyes, it shows her the worth she has. And with its hands it patches up the scars that cover her. And with its feet it carries her through her storm.

Through the hurt, she has grown stronger. And through the light of mystery, she has been made whole.