I think a good goal for my life is to have a nightmare-free existence. They generally don't occur every night, of course, but often enough to be distressing. Take tonight, for instance. I'm running out of time on my books, and I'm rather behind. Band camp starts Wednesday, so now is crunch time. Of course, it just so happens Mr. Agee isn't the most enthralling of authors. It's my personal belief that you have priorities in literature. The first is entertainment, which could also be joined with escape. If the book's not entertaining, no one will read it and those who do won't like it. The second is a clear message. There are times to play games. If you want to write for the English intellectual who enjoys solving your puzzle, go ahead. But try to at least make the puzzles readable. When symbolism becomes so very boring that you can't stand it, it's time to stop. Three is style/form/pink marmosets or what have you that make it genuinely different and memorable. James Agee has a very disturbing lack of pink marmosets.
Anyway, I'm reading A Death in the Family and I get to the part in italics. You know, the section that branches off at the end of the first two parts that seems to have nothing to do with the storyline. It's almost made to put you to sleep. It talks about stories and events, but it's clearly meant to convey a message I frankly don't care to exert the effort to pick up. So I try to cram it down my mental throat until I can take no more. So I rest my head against the pillow, I turn off the light, just because I can't take another word. I just can't do it. I need to, but the darkness is so nice. So... peaceful. And I drift off...
But it's a quasi-sleep. I know I can't actually go all the way, I've promises to keep and miles to go before I can stop this foolish charade. So I'm adrift in a sea of emotional stress. I once fell asleep thinking of a math problem. It tormented me. I kept struggling to wake up because I was so wracked with stress. My mind is churning, trying to work a problem that I can only get halfway through. 19+23= I don't know! I can't summon the resolve to figure it out. But there it is again: 19+23. My mind is trying to solve three or four of these at once. I can't do it. So the stress manifests itself in sadness. In a half-waking nightmare where all my normal fears are magnified but aren't easily reasoned away. There's no plot to this dream, just waves. 19+23=... Every moment I'm hit by sadness. It laps against my consciousness, pulling a bit in every time. It recedes, but soon comes back with more force. Another wave, I'm falling deeper. 19+23. My heart is drowning in a reasonless, pure sorrow. The kind I'm only capable of in dreams. My soul mourning my inability to feel something so pure in my gray-tainted reality that was raped by Nihilism. That word. Both of them, actually. I despise both. They're ugly words. 19+23. I'm afraid to use them. But I have to, because in retrospect that's what it seems has happened. Nothing matters. Nothing at all. Until you've experienced Nothing, you don't know what it's like. It's depressing. Still I'm only actually sad in dreams. 19+23. A lingering, pure, but nonetheless poignantly painful emotion. I have no reason to be sad. But I have no reason in dreams.
My sister and mother get home, and I wake up. I realize what happened, I look at the time. Work calls again. The sadness lingers, but it's gradually drying by the sharp, radiant illumination of my now alert mind. I can block it out now. The stress that created the sadness in lieu of blissful peace is now merely a weight. Or perhaps it's a buoy, bouncing up and down constantly reminding me that I'm off course. It shows I care. Just not enough. Enough to be tormented, but not enough to pluck it out of the water. I'll follow my course eventually. Now I have detours to take. But the buoy always blocks my vision. Oh what fun it is to ride in a clueless teenage day.
Monday, July 26
Friday, July 23
Hammering Coal into Gold
That's what I do. Or, rather, coal into talcum. Maybe bronze. But I get these strange emotions, moods, and issues and I hammer them out. During the process it's rather unpleasant. But I just take a walk, think on it, and pretty soon I find some sort of an answer of it fades. It's rather preferable to leaving these things unsolved.
Wonderfully Bad
Bleh. Thus, it all begins again. Or rather, it began a week or two ago. As school appears closer, I can already feel the stress. Summer reading constantly weighs me down. And it's in the form that there's just so much, I get so weighted I can't move. I fall onto my bed and just stare at the TV. I could be working. But why bother? There's just so much to do. It waxes and wanes, but the depression is always. This is depression. It feels like depression. It's not sadness, sadness is triggered. Sadness is dark blue and eeriely beautiful. Depression is bruised purple. Depression is the opposite of happiness, contrary to popular belief. Happiness is pervasive, it lingers. It's a mood, not an emotion. Sadness and elation are emotions. They strike with more force and power, but can easily be swayed. Depression and happiness are more pervasive. They're the poison to the cannon shot of emotion.
I've begun dreaming again. Generally the dreams are strange and just related to fears and sources of stress that are sprinkled through my generally privileged life. I dream of my car wrecking. Often. Sometimes I'm driving, sometimes I'm parking, sometimes someone else is destroying it. But it always gets torn to shreds or grossly disfigured. And the terror, shame, and depression of having to call home and say it's happened again is overwhelming. It destroys me. That, and missing my SATs, were bigger blows to my self-esteem and confidence than most anything. The 4s on my AP tests were the norm, it seems, so I don't really resent those. I feel like I could have done better, I know I could have if I had just studied more. But I didn't like the subjects. Ah well. I was disappointed in my 31. Most people would kill for it, but I think it's on the low side of what I could do. It's just part of that reversed sense of accomplishment. Nothing short of the top is acceptable.
And yet, look at my college situation. My choices are essentially Maryville and the UT Honors program. Money isn't a problem for either (it's paid for through scholarships). So I'm left with probably the biggest decision I've made to date. Maryville has an average ACT of 24.5. UT Honors average was 31. But there's pros and cons to both. Maryville is out in a rural area. It's got lots of trees, you can see the mountains clearly from campus, and it's generally more natural than UT. UT's in the middle of a city. At Maryville, I'd have a name. Most people would know me. At UT, in the Honors program, I'd have a name. But there would be a label I'd always have to wear. Everywhere I went, I'd be an Honors student. The standards are higher, the competition would be very high, and the stress would be immense. I'd get a better education. I'd have a much better chance of meeting people I could get along with well who shared my interests and sense of humor. But I'd be constantly stressed, worried about grades and achieving for a degree that really doesn't warrant such a mentality. At Maryville, the people would be different from me. It sounded like a positive environment, but I'm such a different person from the mainstream (in the sense that I am the definitive cynic, I blast Christianity when it's brought up because I despise Hell, I'm a pacifist, I'm a Romantic-Nihilist for lack of a better word, I'm a determinist who still has morals, I'm a walking contradiction) that conflict is almost sure to spring up. In a discussion environment, at least. The smaller nature and the comments from most sources seem to indicate small is the way to go. But it's a gamble and the odds aren't on my side.
BLARGH! I'm incredibly distressed right now (this is 3hours after writing most of the above). I emailed Mrs. Jackson about an SOSE project but I'm so filled with doubt and... something I can't quite describe, that I'm being torn in half. It's that stress of the spotlight. I'm singling myself out for punishment and reprimand. It's... terrible. I don't know what I'm doing. I feel so incredibly stupid and foolish, like I'm a pretentious lunatic who is trying to play with a fire he's not prepared for and who will subsequently be burned to a cinder. It's like agony. It happens everytime I try to "fly solo." When I go it alone without the utmost of positive support (such as Mr. Petko showed for my board game club), I fall into shambles. Ah well. This is what this is all about, testing and hardening. But it'll be terrible as I go through it. Abysmal. I fill like I'm going to burst into a rotten mess. Bleh.
I've begun dreaming again. Generally the dreams are strange and just related to fears and sources of stress that are sprinkled through my generally privileged life. I dream of my car wrecking. Often. Sometimes I'm driving, sometimes I'm parking, sometimes someone else is destroying it. But it always gets torn to shreds or grossly disfigured. And the terror, shame, and depression of having to call home and say it's happened again is overwhelming. It destroys me. That, and missing my SATs, were bigger blows to my self-esteem and confidence than most anything. The 4s on my AP tests were the norm, it seems, so I don't really resent those. I feel like I could have done better, I know I could have if I had just studied more. But I didn't like the subjects. Ah well. I was disappointed in my 31. Most people would kill for it, but I think it's on the low side of what I could do. It's just part of that reversed sense of accomplishment. Nothing short of the top is acceptable.
And yet, look at my college situation. My choices are essentially Maryville and the UT Honors program. Money isn't a problem for either (it's paid for through scholarships). So I'm left with probably the biggest decision I've made to date. Maryville has an average ACT of 24.5. UT Honors average was 31. But there's pros and cons to both. Maryville is out in a rural area. It's got lots of trees, you can see the mountains clearly from campus, and it's generally more natural than UT. UT's in the middle of a city. At Maryville, I'd have a name. Most people would know me. At UT, in the Honors program, I'd have a name. But there would be a label I'd always have to wear. Everywhere I went, I'd be an Honors student. The standards are higher, the competition would be very high, and the stress would be immense. I'd get a better education. I'd have a much better chance of meeting people I could get along with well who shared my interests and sense of humor. But I'd be constantly stressed, worried about grades and achieving for a degree that really doesn't warrant such a mentality. At Maryville, the people would be different from me. It sounded like a positive environment, but I'm such a different person from the mainstream (in the sense that I am the definitive cynic, I blast Christianity when it's brought up because I despise Hell, I'm a pacifist, I'm a Romantic-Nihilist for lack of a better word, I'm a determinist who still has morals, I'm a walking contradiction) that conflict is almost sure to spring up. In a discussion environment, at least. The smaller nature and the comments from most sources seem to indicate small is the way to go. But it's a gamble and the odds aren't on my side.
BLARGH! I'm incredibly distressed right now (this is 3hours after writing most of the above). I emailed Mrs. Jackson about an SOSE project but I'm so filled with doubt and... something I can't quite describe, that I'm being torn in half. It's that stress of the spotlight. I'm singling myself out for punishment and reprimand. It's... terrible. I don't know what I'm doing. I feel so incredibly stupid and foolish, like I'm a pretentious lunatic who is trying to play with a fire he's not prepared for and who will subsequently be burned to a cinder. It's like agony. It happens everytime I try to "fly solo." When I go it alone without the utmost of positive support (such as Mr. Petko showed for my board game club), I fall into shambles. Ah well. This is what this is all about, testing and hardening. But it'll be terrible as I go through it. Abysmal. I fill like I'm going to burst into a rotten mess. Bleh.
Wednesday, July 21
Novel Ideas
Paranoia-The Mosquito
Blissful Misery- Hypocrisy
Currency Events- Money and its lack of value (no gold standard)/religious symbolism
Life of a Garbage Man- Symbolism
Mr. Mandius- The Hated Loser's Place
Macrocosm- Insiginificance
Ideal Beginnings- Machiavellian Religion (Trial and Error; Love and Fear)
One Day- One day three times: Optimistic, Pessimistic, Factual
Redundancy- Loss of purpose/need
2+2=5- What if you could change the answer? To life, to determinism, to existence?
Illiteracy for Dummies- A Math Teacher's Guide to reading, and other short stories.
Dramatization- Dramatize mundane, boring events in a long chain to stress how each and every action can be made to seem important (inspired by the grandeur of the Oscars, if that means anything to you). Last line suggestion: "And what did you do today?" "Oh, nothing."
Something on the Sacrifice/Masochism of an Artist- See "Sad" on 1/1/05
Chain of Butterflies- Hobo(despicable, leechlike) to President(Republican, "Not in an election year!" "It's not an election year, sir." "Well it ought to be!" "You hate election years, sir." "Well, I hate you too!") in "x" short stories (Start dramatic and serious, gradually lessening intensity into debasing irrevence ending in complete destruction. The question remains, who is to blame? The butterfly? The hobo? Each and every link? Fate, for it must have been fate? The Tapestry imagery as well as the butterfly would be nice. The hobo is killed by a normal, mild-mannered motorist on an unexplainable whim (the motorist has that urge of "what if I were to do something completely insane, but interesting?). A criminal case is filed and it eventually leads to the President's attention. Mosquito will symbolize the hobo in the "paranoia" chapter as both are worthless leaches. But does that mean they deserve to die? A mosquito cannot change his evil ways, but he's probably content. The man adamantly refuses to change as well and it miserable. Thus, a dilemma. The author who doesn't read as well can serve as a lawyer. Only female characters Judge and possibly First Lady) (Character developing flashbacks for both hobo and mosquito?) (The flashbacks reveal that the homeless man led a good life, but tragedy happened, possibly related to love. He despairs and becomes depressed, panhandling for food but mostly whiskey to escape, possibly from some physical as well as mental pain. He really only needs/wants one thing that he sort of obtains in a note he's about to read before he gets hit. The police read it a la "Rosebud" but it makes no sense to them. It's gradually revealed in the flashbacks, but the man is largely forgotten in the main story. The homeless man grew up in the North but came down south for better hospitality/benefits, which is ironic because the North is Democrat, supposedly more "people friendly" yet they're colder than the religious Republicans in the south who vote against government aid. Existential Frycook John , perhaps a Gardner for the literary reference; has a younger, teenage boss, is older, surly, much like Hamlet. Politician drops an "F-Bomb" when not under camera, possibly other curses too. Media "nonsense" sequence, similiar to my "fiction" entry of absurdity. Trial in form of my 18th bday poem. Jury is asked for verdict, end of chapter. Politician begins/or continues 'Eloquent' speech with "We are guilty of...". Stops; starts cursing. For author: "what's next, Spamlet?" Old man or hobo somewhere where I try to give all the advice I've learned in high school to the "next generation." Car crash man has life like Heaven, but is tormented by logic. He's aimed at all the right things, but it's dictated his actions for too long. He should be happy, but it's too perfect. His life's pointless because it's so blissful. He rebels by committing an act completely illogical. Stress the straight of the road(symbolizing the oppressive logic of reality)- internal conflict on the subject, but at the end of the chapter the driver is blinded by the sun so when you switch chapters it's ambiguous as to whether he meant to hit the person or not. In court, have him testify, illogically, that he had thoughts of hitting the hobo, but don't have an outright admittal. for the media parody, make everyone complete egoists and jerks. Have them run a story that"2+2=5" that tries to show both sides of the story. Another story: an incredibly intelligent/logical scientist who's afraid of the dark (unknown). Also, perhaps have the hobo's death result in something very positive ala the butterfly effect; good from bad seemingly for little direct reason. Perhaps someone who goes through a drive through can go to a carnival and enter a maze of mirrors; choices and all that fun rot. Mer-esque relationship, the girl leaves like Mer will, and that provides one of the hobo's tragedies. Each subsequent "hobo developing" story should follow the tone of the main chapter; it should portray him in conflicting lights, good, bad, unbiased, everything to make him seem an "everyman" and "no man." Two parallel plots lines, one going consistently backwards in time, the other forwards. For Paranoia: mosquito is to man, as lion would be to gazelle, but is in fact kitten stalking elephant. Goal: By a man, about humanity, for humanity, against humanity, quintessential humanity. Real. Each chapter could focus on one emotion, such as "Paranoia, Sorrow, Hope, Apathy" and try to "run the gauntlet." Imagination: the good, the bad, the beautiful; How it can take one so far in both extremes and lead to disappoint in reality. The hobo is the one complexity in a sea of two-dimensional character sketches, drawing further parallels about his own importance. Another chapter: telephone conversation where one side discusses issue of epic importance (meaning of life, philosophical breakthrough), and the other tries to contribute but is constantly having to deal with trivial matters to the point that the important conversation seems trivial. Cops steal car to do great deed, next chapter the poor victim of said car theft tells his resulting tragedy, good from evil. Perhaps something involving someone reading articles or obituaries or the like of possible hilarity, drama, or some sort of insanity progression. Good line to use "Wasted on the Wasted", possible title? Start the book sad/negative and gradually move to positive; this creates a happy ending AND beginning due to the unique nature of time in the book; thus, another circular effect is established, hope is achieved, and best of all there's a happy ending; similiar to a reverse Catch-22. I want a "reverse nostalgia" where the days of yore are yearned for, sadly, poignantly, and actually delivered later in the book. A writing style for one chapter could be in a minimalist, "Captain's Log" via Star Trek manner. Media Parody: Feature segment where host yells a lot, has a trained professional guest and a know-nothing celebrity, discusses something like "Senator So&So kicked a puppy", have celebrity support Senator, professional argues, host sides with celebrity. Possibly have a family dinner scene imitating the ideal, a flawed but communicative, working environment; draw a parallel to another, outwardly perfect environment, but focus on the thoughts of the family using different types of text or font to show the discontent and unhappiness of a mundane, repressed life; cliche, perhaps, but it might be fun; or I could just do a normal sketch, one simply boring but reflecting reality, possibly subtley warping it to happiness but not so it's immediately evident. Have the existentialist fry cook describe his "great deeds" in a sarcastic manner, speaking of how they'll never be remembered. The author can have exerpts that warp the meaning but keep the plot, such as an existentialist Jane Eyre and a musical Hamlet. Good romantic line "If this isn't love, love doesn't exist." A scene with a preacher preaching to a small congregation, but no one's paying attention. Show thoughts of individuals gradually melding into solid thought, the preacher's indecipherable from the ones he speaks to; essentially just be symbolic of those who try to give advice that isn't quite understood or followed, always forgotten or ignored or not cared about in the first place; hypocrisy, ignorance, hellfire, Christ's love, all can be emphasized. "Every single chapter will have a different symbolic theme. But really they're just methods of adding meaning to a work, not the purpose. They make the organs of the body I'm trying to create. The plot is the skeleton, the ideas are organs, the words are the flesh;" a chapter can be some sort of Dr. Frankenstein, named after a famous artist/author/whomever trying to create the perfect creation from the ground up; it would symbolize my goal of trying to create something beautiful, but the ideas are very important to getting the message across: the flesh shouldn't matter, but if the flesh is unattractive, it's more difficult to see past it to the meat/organs; certainly it's possible, but it's much more difficult; however, if there's nothing under the flesh worth looking at, the creation has no staying power; of course if the skeletal structure's off the whole thing fails. Perserverance= idea that needs a motif: features a repeated failure that doesn't matter, symbolic of fearing failure when really most every failure can be overcome and is therefore not that important. A daydream sequence/ train of ludicrous thought. Redlight vs. Stopsign ethics. The hobo, Avery Mann, has a best friend who dies. The driver's name could be William P. Humperdink. Frycook symbolic of doubters, opposition of the meaning of the book, who stress that some people are meaningless. Have someone, possibly a fantasy creature like a toothfairy or Jacob Marley, do kindness for no reweard, possibly because of leading an empty life, maybe a trash collector or street cleaner too. Mosquito kills initial man. The book needs effects that are very positive, very negative, and hardly noteworthy for parity. Poetic epitath at the funeral for tombstone. Last sentiment of book: Doctor, "I've seen this thousands of times, but it never loses its beauty. That kid's going to do some great things. But aren't they all..." Strip joints= zoos of flesh.)
Forgiveness stressed at the funeral of whatever sins the man may have committed.
Blissful Misery- Hypocrisy
Currency Events- Money and its lack of value (no gold standard)/religious symbolism
Life of a Garbage Man- Symbolism
Mr. Mandius- The Hated Loser's Place
Macrocosm- Insiginificance
Ideal Beginnings- Machiavellian Religion (Trial and Error; Love and Fear)
One Day- One day three times: Optimistic, Pessimistic, Factual
Redundancy- Loss of purpose/need
2+2=5- What if you could change the answer? To life, to determinism, to existence?
Illiteracy for Dummies- A Math Teacher's Guide to reading, and other short stories.
Dramatization- Dramatize mundane, boring events in a long chain to stress how each and every action can be made to seem important (inspired by the grandeur of the Oscars, if that means anything to you). Last line suggestion: "And what did you do today?" "Oh, nothing."
Something on the Sacrifice/Masochism of an Artist- See "Sad" on 1/1/05
Chain of Butterflies- Hobo(despicable, leechlike) to President(Republican, "Not in an election year!" "It's not an election year, sir." "Well it ought to be!" "You hate election years, sir." "Well, I hate you too!") in "x" short stories (Start dramatic and serious, gradually lessening intensity into debasing irrevence ending in complete destruction. The question remains, who is to blame? The butterfly? The hobo? Each and every link? Fate, for it must have been fate? The Tapestry imagery as well as the butterfly would be nice. The hobo is killed by a normal, mild-mannered motorist on an unexplainable whim (the motorist has that urge of "what if I were to do something completely insane, but interesting?). A criminal case is filed and it eventually leads to the President's attention. Mosquito will symbolize the hobo in the "paranoia" chapter as both are worthless leaches. But does that mean they deserve to die? A mosquito cannot change his evil ways, but he's probably content. The man adamantly refuses to change as well and it miserable. Thus, a dilemma. The author who doesn't read as well can serve as a lawyer. Only female characters Judge and possibly First Lady) (Character developing flashbacks for both hobo and mosquito?) (The flashbacks reveal that the homeless man led a good life, but tragedy happened, possibly related to love. He despairs and becomes depressed, panhandling for food but mostly whiskey to escape, possibly from some physical as well as mental pain. He really only needs/wants one thing that he sort of obtains in a note he's about to read before he gets hit. The police read it a la "Rosebud" but it makes no sense to them. It's gradually revealed in the flashbacks, but the man is largely forgotten in the main story. The homeless man grew up in the North but came down south for better hospitality/benefits, which is ironic because the North is Democrat, supposedly more "people friendly" yet they're colder than the religious Republicans in the south who vote against government aid. Existential Frycook John , perhaps a Gardner for the literary reference; has a younger, teenage boss, is older, surly, much like Hamlet. Politician drops an "F-Bomb" when not under camera, possibly other curses too. Media "nonsense" sequence, similiar to my "fiction" entry of absurdity. Trial in form of my 18th bday poem. Jury is asked for verdict, end of chapter. Politician begins/or continues 'Eloquent' speech with "We are guilty of...". Stops; starts cursing. For author: "what's next, Spamlet?" Old man or hobo somewhere where I try to give all the advice I've learned in high school to the "next generation." Car crash man has life like Heaven, but is tormented by logic. He's aimed at all the right things, but it's dictated his actions for too long. He should be happy, but it's too perfect. His life's pointless because it's so blissful. He rebels by committing an act completely illogical. Stress the straight of the road(symbolizing the oppressive logic of reality)- internal conflict on the subject, but at the end of the chapter the driver is blinded by the sun so when you switch chapters it's ambiguous as to whether he meant to hit the person or not. In court, have him testify, illogically, that he had thoughts of hitting the hobo, but don't have an outright admittal. for the media parody, make everyone complete egoists and jerks. Have them run a story that"2+2=5" that tries to show both sides of the story. Another story: an incredibly intelligent/logical scientist who's afraid of the dark (unknown). Also, perhaps have the hobo's death result in something very positive ala the butterfly effect; good from bad seemingly for little direct reason. Perhaps someone who goes through a drive through can go to a carnival and enter a maze of mirrors; choices and all that fun rot. Mer-esque relationship, the girl leaves like Mer will, and that provides one of the hobo's tragedies. Each subsequent "hobo developing" story should follow the tone of the main chapter; it should portray him in conflicting lights, good, bad, unbiased, everything to make him seem an "everyman" and "no man." Two parallel plots lines, one going consistently backwards in time, the other forwards. For Paranoia: mosquito is to man, as lion would be to gazelle, but is in fact kitten stalking elephant. Goal: By a man, about humanity, for humanity, against humanity, quintessential humanity. Real. Each chapter could focus on one emotion, such as "Paranoia, Sorrow, Hope, Apathy" and try to "run the gauntlet." Imagination: the good, the bad, the beautiful; How it can take one so far in both extremes and lead to disappoint in reality. The hobo is the one complexity in a sea of two-dimensional character sketches, drawing further parallels about his own importance. Another chapter: telephone conversation where one side discusses issue of epic importance (meaning of life, philosophical breakthrough), and the other tries to contribute but is constantly having to deal with trivial matters to the point that the important conversation seems trivial. Cops steal car to do great deed, next chapter the poor victim of said car theft tells his resulting tragedy, good from evil. Perhaps something involving someone reading articles or obituaries or the like of possible hilarity, drama, or some sort of insanity progression. Good line to use "Wasted on the Wasted", possible title? Start the book sad/negative and gradually move to positive; this creates a happy ending AND beginning due to the unique nature of time in the book; thus, another circular effect is established, hope is achieved, and best of all there's a happy ending; similiar to a reverse Catch-22. I want a "reverse nostalgia" where the days of yore are yearned for, sadly, poignantly, and actually delivered later in the book. A writing style for one chapter could be in a minimalist, "Captain's Log" via Star Trek manner. Media Parody: Feature segment where host yells a lot, has a trained professional guest and a know-nothing celebrity, discusses something like "Senator So&So kicked a puppy", have celebrity support Senator, professional argues, host sides with celebrity. Possibly have a family dinner scene imitating the ideal, a flawed but communicative, working environment; draw a parallel to another, outwardly perfect environment, but focus on the thoughts of the family using different types of text or font to show the discontent and unhappiness of a mundane, repressed life; cliche, perhaps, but it might be fun; or I could just do a normal sketch, one simply boring but reflecting reality, possibly subtley warping it to happiness but not so it's immediately evident. Have the existentialist fry cook describe his "great deeds" in a sarcastic manner, speaking of how they'll never be remembered. The author can have exerpts that warp the meaning but keep the plot, such as an existentialist Jane Eyre and a musical Hamlet. Good romantic line "If this isn't love, love doesn't exist." A scene with a preacher preaching to a small congregation, but no one's paying attention. Show thoughts of individuals gradually melding into solid thought, the preacher's indecipherable from the ones he speaks to; essentially just be symbolic of those who try to give advice that isn't quite understood or followed, always forgotten or ignored or not cared about in the first place; hypocrisy, ignorance, hellfire, Christ's love, all can be emphasized. "Every single chapter will have a different symbolic theme. But really they're just methods of adding meaning to a work, not the purpose. They make the organs of the body I'm trying to create. The plot is the skeleton, the ideas are organs, the words are the flesh;" a chapter can be some sort of Dr. Frankenstein, named after a famous artist/author/whomever trying to create the perfect creation from the ground up; it would symbolize my goal of trying to create something beautiful, but the ideas are very important to getting the message across: the flesh shouldn't matter, but if the flesh is unattractive, it's more difficult to see past it to the meat/organs; certainly it's possible, but it's much more difficult; however, if there's nothing under the flesh worth looking at, the creation has no staying power; of course if the skeletal structure's off the whole thing fails. Perserverance= idea that needs a motif: features a repeated failure that doesn't matter, symbolic of fearing failure when really most every failure can be overcome and is therefore not that important. A daydream sequence/ train of ludicrous thought. Redlight vs. Stopsign ethics. The hobo, Avery Mann, has a best friend who dies. The driver's name could be William P. Humperdink. Frycook symbolic of doubters, opposition of the meaning of the book, who stress that some people are meaningless. Have someone, possibly a fantasy creature like a toothfairy or Jacob Marley, do kindness for no reweard, possibly because of leading an empty life, maybe a trash collector or street cleaner too. Mosquito kills initial man. The book needs effects that are very positive, very negative, and hardly noteworthy for parity. Poetic epitath at the funeral for tombstone. Last sentiment of book: Doctor, "I've seen this thousands of times, but it never loses its beauty. That kid's going to do some great things. But aren't they all..." Strip joints= zoos of flesh.)
Forgiveness stressed at the funeral of whatever sins the man may have committed.
Tuesday, July 20
There's no "DEERS" in TEAM
Apparently some of you aren't exactly "Team players." I know, I know, I should be flattered you even bother stopping by (and believe me, I am!), but you could, hypothetically, participate in the many festitivites I've gathered for your amusement. I've got polls, I've got a chatterbox, I've even got new fonts colors. That I rarely use. Beside the point, I say! It won't hurt you. They won't bite. Or will they...? Only one way to find out.
Heh, you're fine with whatever you want to do. I post on most every blog entry I read because I'd like the same to be done for me. Most of you don't have blogs, so obviously I can't pry into your innermost thoughts and secrets. Of course, you could make some. If you so desired. Or maybe you all have them, but just don't tell me. You're crafty you anonymous reader you. I'll have to look over my internet shoulder all day tomorrow. How you ask? Penguins. Lazer guided Penguins. Let's leave it at that.
So... the title also serves to bring up something I encountered in WordRacer yesterday. Now, those who have played well know that the dictionary makes up words. Play it and see. Words that you can't even imagine are real. And words that should be real aren't. It plays games, does the dictionary. But the biggest surprise was "Deers." Apparently it's an acronym. It still makes baby Jesus cry. Ah well.
My typing is too loud. Time to go. Big day tomorrow, more then! Do happy, make happy, be happy!
Heh, you're fine with whatever you want to do. I post on most every blog entry I read because I'd like the same to be done for me. Most of you don't have blogs, so obviously I can't pry into your innermost thoughts and secrets. Of course, you could make some. If you so desired. Or maybe you all have them, but just don't tell me. You're crafty you anonymous reader you. I'll have to look over my internet shoulder all day tomorrow. How you ask? Penguins. Lazer guided Penguins. Let's leave it at that.
So... the title also serves to bring up something I encountered in WordRacer yesterday. Now, those who have played well know that the dictionary makes up words. Play it and see. Words that you can't even imagine are real. And words that should be real aren't. It plays games, does the dictionary. But the biggest surprise was "Deers." Apparently it's an acronym. It still makes baby Jesus cry. Ah well.
My typing is too loud. Time to go. Big day tomorrow, more then! Do happy, make happy, be happy!
Monday, July 19
Stupids are as Stupids do.
Well, I got bored yesterday, so I looked at the list of updated blogs. It's rather awe-inspiring. There was almost a blog updated per second. Disturbing, no? I looked at a few and similiar themes resonated. Some were quite similiar to my own morbid patheticness. I guess that's a leading cause of creating a journal-ish writing platform, patheticness. I dunno, in some ways it's encouraging. It shows that nothing I've experienced is all that different from anyone else. But it works on the other side, too, because it shows how truly insignificant we are. All our dramas, our profound thoughts, our realizations have been done again and again and again. I guess that's alright. Easier to shoulder the burden on others hehe.
Well, you may have noticed the new additions. Feel free to leave a comment, use the poll, and observe the creepy hits counter in the corner that does know where you live, what you're doing, and why you're so utterly wrong. More practically, it'll show me how often people really visit so I'll have a more appropriate view. My expectations are low for the summer, but perhaps I'll get, oh, one a day when school starts back and things get a tad more normalized. We'll see.
I'll leave you with a poll or two about whether you like the new features, etc. I can, theoretically, start a free, closed chat room easily with a link through this site if anyone's interested. They're surprisingly interesting, if you have enough people in them. Let me know.
*REMOVED. Because none of you bums voted.*
Well, you may have noticed the new additions. Feel free to leave a comment, use the poll, and observe the creepy hits counter in the corner that does know where you live, what you're doing, and why you're so utterly wrong. More practically, it'll show me how often people really visit so I'll have a more appropriate view. My expectations are low for the summer, but perhaps I'll get, oh, one a day when school starts back and things get a tad more normalized. We'll see.
I'll leave you with a poll or two about whether you like the new features, etc. I can, theoretically, start a free, closed chat room easily with a link through this site if anyone's interested. They're surprisingly interesting, if you have enough people in them. Let me know.
*REMOVED. Because none of you bums voted.*
Sunday, July 18
Newness
Three new features! Woohoo! Have I sold out to corporatism and materialism? Does it destroy the quaint simplicity of my blog? Will they spice things up? You bet your grandma's sewing needle of DOOM! So try em out, click some buttons, and do happy, be happy, make happy.