My Thoughts – A Cry For Help – January 10, 2009

I feel like a failure…bottom-line, and I feel like everything I care about and work hard at…dies…I don’t know what it is. There’s just been WAY too many things for me to deal with at the moment…

I really really kind of want…need someone to read this…I really need some feedback and this…dead silence…is killing me. Please, people! I need Magic Pens! …

My Thoughts – January 9, 2009

Been feeling kind of down lately…Just…miss things…Wrote this rant up during English class but had to stop suddenly when the bell rang…It’s retarded I know.

My Thoughts: January 16, 2008

All right…I’ve arrived home, with no homework, really tired, and my rabbits are running around me in my room. I would like to write something, but right now I am just too brain dead. I don’t know what to write, even a rant…I think that I will come back to this later on tonight.

. . .

I have returned to this post, although it isn’t the later night.

My Thoughts: November 3, 2007

I do not feel like writing…The words will just not come. I sit here typing under the veil of darkness, not knowing what will come of it. My hands clack on, my mind rambling on…nothing coming…nothing at all. Why am I in this slump? Why is my mind so blank. I stare at the white before me that corrupts into my thoughts. The ideas and creativity leaves, abandoning the nothing left behind. Why is this? Why do I sit and let the ideas slip away? Where do they go? Why don’t they come back? Why do they return to me once I leave this place? I float through the world, observing, and thinking. My mind can never be shut off, even under the covers late at night, but why is it that I come here, to this blank screen, and all of that leaves me? With a piano ringing through my ears, and the darkness soothing my eyes, the gleam of the screen is like a barrier to my words. I can not form them, cannot plot, no story will come. My thoughts flow through my hands and across the keyboard jaggedly as I type. The messages are unclear. The ideas are unfinished. The creation in whole is incomplete with gashes and holes, waiting to be filled. My words come quickly as a poem flows along with the waters of a river, although they may not make much sense. The words are jumbled, with the thoughts behind them not very supportive. I am weak. I am unstable. I am empty. My mind…is…

My Thoughts: November 2, 2007 – The Perfect Dodgeball Team

I have thought of this many times before, but when I played dodgeball in gym today, I actually felt like writing about it. Let’s see if I can do it!

I believe that any randomized gym class could easily win a match of dodgeball if they broke each person into “jobs,” each with a special ability with only one thing to worry about. I will create a fake gym class based off of my own to demonstrate.