Library-madness.

Oh god, on the way into the library, this hot guy pushing around an empty cart totally caught me checking him out. And then of course, I did the obvious 'quickly look away' move. So he probably thinks I'm crazy. Speaking of crazy, I was walking behind this white guy who was dressed pretty ghetto. And I decided to mimic him, which I did for a little while before I realized that anyone else watching me would probably think I'm crazy, or stupid, or even worse; Crazy-stupid.

I like the library, if only because there are always so many people to watch. I like watching people, and I always come up with stories for their lives. Some of my friends think that's weird, but whatever. Like... I'm looking around... Well. There is a trio of people at a table. One older blonde male with glasses, and two younger hispanic looking females. They look like good friends, but the male looks a little out of the loop. He appears to be a nerd. I am sure that they are studying for finals.

From this short analysis I come up with this:

This guy is older and single and has never had a girlfriend. He is 20-something, and still lives with his parents. He has found this small group that allow him to hang out simply because he is smart. The girls are young and conniving; they have just graduated. They found this old nerd that they can seduce into helping them in class. Next semester they'll drop him like a year old sack of potatoes.

While that isn't so original, it's something.

Here goes.

Someone from my old highschool died this weekend in a car accident. Apparently he hydroplaned and flipped the car. It's said that this knocked him unconcious. The car then caught on fire. Um. And he died.

I barely knew him. I had one class with him in 11th grade, and I remember that he was a prep. I also remember that he was nice. I'm not particularly affected by this death.
There are always those people that, when they come in contact with death, feel the need to shout out loud about how much they miss the deceased. The same thing happened when Arnold comminted suicide two years ago. The same thing happened when three people accidentally died, on three different occasions, three years ago. At least, I think it was three years.
The point is, I never understood why people pray for the deceased. Aren't they past praying? Why didn't anyone pray for them before they died?

Today before work, I said a little prayer for him. I asked the Goddess to watch over him as he made his way to wherever he is meant to go. I also asked her to watch over those that are truly affected by his death. But I still didn't understand why people pray for the deceased.

At around 11 o'clock, my best friends Yma and Vicki came in. Vicki knew the boy, and she had been shocked when we initially discussed it. She came into tonight, and her voice was wracked with tension. "Make me coffee!" she said. It sounded like she was sobbing. I laughed and asked why. She said, "My friend died yesterday and I have to pull an all-nighter tonight!" She then completely and utterly broke down, and fell into Yma's arms, sobbing. I was stunned. So, I did what I had to do. I pulled out a venti cup, and made her a gingerbread latte, with an extra shot of espresso. I then hugged her, picked her up, and sat her down on the comfy chairs.

Now I know. People may pray for the deceased, but they really pray for those who have lost their strength. And that's why I lit this candle tonight.

Life is short.

Or at least mine is. I really don't see myself living past a certain point. I plan on dying young. Well, it's not necessarily a plan. Anyway, everyone knows this; I have an intense fear of being old. So if my life is so short, why should I go to college? I can live it more fully if I live on my own, right? Sure that sounds good, but it really isn't. In order to support myself, I'd have to work full-time. I can't do that and be happy. When I work full-time(like in the summer), I lose my spirituality and my sense of love. These things need to be cultivated. Why do you think hermits make such great philosophers? Living on campus, with my parents paying for everything, will grant me the time and peace to learn. I learn so much about myself when I'm not busying myself with making money. It really does take alot out of you. So, I am going to go. I am going to learn. Learn about myself, learn about others, learn about the world. learnlearnlearnlearnlearnlearnlearnlearnlearnlearnlearnlearnlearn.

Change.
I'm just sitting here,
counting my change.
And as I count,
it strikes me that there are
two kinds of change.

I am counting money. Coins.
But I really should focus my efforts
on the other kind.
The kind that changes lives.
The kind that kills.
The kind that saves.
You know.
Change.

Make pride.

"Don't disappoint me," she says. It's more of a warning really. "Don't disappoint me, or you're getting a bus pass and you're going to U of H." Like going to the University of Houston is a punishment.
We sit there in silence, while the television plays muted german programs. The cliches come out. "I'm at the end of my rope; I don't know what do to get through to you; I feel like I'm talking to a wall."
My head is empty. This should be the perfect state of mind for meditation, yet I'm compelled to pay attention. "I know." I say. "I'm just lazy." I say. These answers are the truth, yet there's more I'm hiding. "I'm depressed." I should say. "I need counseling."
We tactfully avoid the subject of my brother until we run out of things to say. "Don't think that he's much better," she avoids my eyes and picks up her knitting. "He's just as bad. You may help out around the house and I really appreciate that. But he's better with his money."
"And his grades." I intone. All the important things, we both think. There's no hard feelings though.
"Make me proud." she commands. "Go study. Prove to me and yourself that you can succeed and have a good life." I gather my things and head to the stairs.
"Don't disappoint me." she says.
"Don't disappoint me." she warns.

Sometimes I wish I was dead.

I sometimes wish I was dead, and not because I'm depressed. I'm not depressed. I'm not depressed.
Sometimes I wish I was dead, if only so I could see if there was anything else to this existence. So I could see what's next. It's so hard. It's so hard finding your purpose. I have No Purpose. It's a disease. No Purpose.

I miss high school. I miss the structured environment. I miss skipping class. I miss theatre. I miss lunch plans. I have to get to college. I have to get to that structured enviroment again.

This morning I was watching a squirrel play in the tree outside of my window. I hit a squirrel on the way home from school. Then later, as my mom yelled at me for something unrelated, I saw two squirrels playing outside of the window.

WHAT AM I DOING HERE?
WHY?
WHY AM I HERE?
WHAT IS MY PURPOSE?
SHIT.

Miss. M insists that I have a purpose. She said, "I will bet my life that you have a purpose in this world." Yeah? I feel like my purpose is so important at times, and then at other times I feel like I'm nobody. Who am I to think that my purpose is so important? Who am I?
I'm Chris Bernal. Christopher Bernal. Christopher Anthony Bernal. German. Gay. Male. Artist. Writer. Poet. Actor. Singer. Philosopher. Wizard.
But what does that matter?
Honestly?
I don't know.

2012. 2012. 2012. Neon signs. Flashing. 2012. 2012. 2012. Queztlcoatyl. The feathered snake.

"December 21 — The Mesoamerican Long Count calendar, notably used by the Maya civilization among others of pre-Columbian Mesoamerica, completes its thirteenth b'ak'tun cycle since the calendar's mythical starting point (equivalent to 3114 BC August 11 in the proleptic Gregorian calendar). The Long Count b'ak'tun date of this starting point (13.0.0.0.0) is repeated, for the first time in a span of approximately 5,125 solar years. The significance of this period-ending to the pre-Columbian Maya themselves is unclear, and there is an incomplete inscription that records this date. It is also to be found carved on the walls of the Temple of Inscriptions in Palenque where it functions as a base date from which other dates are computed. However, it is conjectured that this may represent in the Maya belief system a transition from the current Creation world into the next. The December solstice for 2012 also occurs on this day. Astronomically, the Earth is said to be aligned facing the center of the Milky Way behind the Sun on this date."
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2012

"Astronomically, the Earth is said to be aligned facing the center of the Milky Way behind the Sun on this date."
"Astronomically, the Earth is said to be aligned facing the center of the Milky Way behind the Sun on this date."
"Astronomically, the Earth is said to be aligned facing the center of the Milky Way behind the Sun on this date."

I'm scared.

Lost.

It's so hard to maintain. This facade of mine.

How emo is that? I'm not that emo. I dyed my hair black. So? I'm not depressed. I'm not depressed.

"Cause you are not alone.
I'm always there with you,
and we'll get lost together,
till the light comes pouring through.
Cause when you feel like you're done,
and the darkness has won.
Babe, you're not lost.
When your world's crashing down,
and you cannot bear the cross.
I said, baby, you're not lost."

I'm not lost. I have a purpose in life. My purpose is.

I don't know what my purpose is. But hey. I'm only 18. Right?

The human is weird.

My whole body is mentally cringing at the thought of going to work tonight.

It's not that I'm still tired, the nine hours of sleep I got last night fixed that. I just don't want to get that tired again. I'm scared. It's completely mental, my brain doesn't like pain. I'm a painaphobe. Speaking of mental things:

I like guys. It's weird. Here's an experiment. Look at a girl. How do you feel? Look at a guy. How do you feel? When I look at a girl I feel nothing. But guys? It doesn't matter who they are, I automatically judge them. Am I attracted to them? Are they attractive? Cute? Hot? Sexy? Handsome? Four categories that are very important.
But here's the thing. I'm not supposed to be attracted to guys. I know! Crazy, right? Men are supposed to like Women. Basic Biology.

Maybe the fact that I almost puked this morning is making me weird. I've never puked from sheer anxiety before. I'm sure that it builds character though.

P.S. I don't feel any better.

Woah.

Okay, there is this guy who's doing something weird. He just dropped a note on the student activities manger's desk. And he was scared or something, because him and his friend were talking about it loudly. It was really weird, and I have this sudden urge to go read the note real quick. What could it say? "Will you marry me?" "I quit." "Your mom is dead." It could say alot of things. I won't go in. It's too risky, and I'm not sure I care that much. Just because a guy is cute, doesn't mean I need to be stalker-ish. I'm laughing at myself.

My english teacher is a moron. I really don't know what goes through her head. Of course, I'm kind of moronic. A 20 page journal was due today and I didn't know. So of course I didn't turn it in. Ugh.

I am so tired. Why is our starbucks the only one staying open til twelve for the holidays? I feel like I didn't sleep at all. I just had hallucinations of sleeping, and weird weird dreams about stocking cups.

It's way to cold outside to play tennis. Fuck.

Holy crap. The student activities manager just walked into her office. She read the note, and picked up the phone. I wonder what's going to happen.

A steady path to fulfillment.

"November 24-26:
a steady path to fulfillment

The noisy Gemini Full Moon, wild Uranus turning direct, and a hazy Mercury-Neptune square on November 24 make for a very complex day. Resist the impuls to leap into action, which can put you in an even more perilous position. You radiate confidence and increase your likelihood of success with a surefooted approach rahter than a leap into the unknown. Breathe deeply to gather yourself, because precise aim is required to hit your target. A forgiving trine between Venus and Neptune on November 26 brings joy with little effort on your part. Life can be sweet, even without a lover or a bankroll, as pleasure unfolds for you naturally now."

I am on a steady path to fulfillment.

Let's discuss.

Robert told me on Friday that I was supposed to come into work at 5:45 PM Saturday. I come, and I'm not scheduled until 8 o'clock. So I head to Barnes and Noble. I read a New X-Men comic, and then skimmed through a book about 2012. I learned that in 2008 there is supposed to be a socioeconomic failure. Or something of that kin.
Work was great. The first two days I worked I would leave with a sense of dissatisfaction. I wasn't learning fast enough. But today I jumped right in. I even got to wear the spare apron, although I had to return it when we closed. I cleaned and restocked, than took a ten minute break as Jennifer told me to. After my ten, she taught me how to put orders into the register, and I took peoples money when they bought drinks. Apparently I did well, and I didn't feel bad about it at all. Of course, Claudia watched over me, and helped alot. I washed dishes. I like it. Heinlein's character in "Job" likes to wash dishes too, and it made me think of him. Great book. I did that until close, whereupon we stacked chairs outside and smoked. Then I cleaned the lobby[STOP MOVING CHAIRS AROUND], and mopped. I like mopping too. I mopped the back room, than sat down with my black ice tea and two doughnuts while we waited for Claudia's ride. They're all funny, and we like each other.

Anyway, it was really great. Thank goodness I get to sleep in tomorrow. Yay.

An ode.

An Ode to my Comp. and Rhetoric II Classmate.
You are in my english class.
I can tell that neither of us like it.
Even so, we're both sure to pass.
Our teacher is kind of stupid.

If you're interested, let me know.
I'm definitely interested in you.
Drop a line, or say hello.
Let's make a connection that's new.

Not one of my better ones. I'm out of practice.

Seasons of Love.

I saw Rent yesterday, and while it wasn't as great as I had hoped it would be, it was still pretty good. In all honesty I didn't like the guys who played Roger and Collins. Collins was an American Idol finalist, and Roger was a South African idol. They both sounded great, of course, but their acting wasn't the best. I loved Mark and Mimi. "Why Dorothy and Toto went over the rainbow to blow of Auntie Em." That was really cute. And even before Collins opened his mouth in I'll Cover You [Reprise], two crocodile tears fell down. It felt good. It was a nice release from living under the bell jar these past few days.

Rent has two definitions that are important to me. The first is the fee you pay to live somewhere. The second says that rent means torn apart. And that's how their lives kind of are when we first enter the show. Rent. Then Angel comes, and she heals it. They all come together and are friends again. So of course, when she dies they fight. And it takes the near death of another to bring them back again.

There were somethings I didn't like about the performance, but there were alot more that I did like. I'm really glad I saw it though.

Abercrombie and Me?

Wow, Abercrombie. I'd like to think that he was really looking at me today. I kept catching small glances in my direction. We sat directly across the classroom today. He talked alot more than he usually does. He's awkward, which reminds me even more of Mr. S. And our english teacher was telling an anecdote. "When I was young, men who were interested in fashion were called gentleman. Now they're just called gay." She didn't mean it in a harsh way, she seems to be almost defensive. I smiled in a knowing way, and I saw Abercrombie smiling too. I could've sworn that we shared a knowing glance, but that was probably my imagination. Of course, for the rest of the morning I've been imagining our first date. But I'm silly.

Anyway, I have to go.

Flip a coin.

I really don't want to go to english. But, I've been given this chance and I need to stay driven.

From now on, when I'm choosing between doing something good and something frivolous, I will flip a coin. When it's something obvious, such as going to class or cleaning my room, there's no need to flip. But when it's something less clear, like going to Chick-fil-a for breakfast or going out with friends, that is the time to flip.
Heads, I'll stay in. Tails, I go out. Tails. Great.Heads, I'll get
Chick-fil-a. Tails, I don't. Heads. Great.
Just little things like that.

I need to stay focused. "The change you started already have far-reaching effects. Be ready."

I never said.

Texas State was good. The drive wasn't bad, only two and a half hours. I like the campus, but it's very hilly. Oh my god, is it ever hilly. I freaked out at lunch, because the theatre major has a core of complete theatre classes, which is bad. For me that is, because I only have one theatre course right now, so I'd be very behind. After reading some brochures and flipping through the course catalog, I decided to change my major to Philosophy with a minor in Theatre. My plan is to go on and get my Doctorate in Philosophy so I can teach it in colleges, which sounds so boring. But anyway, it should allow me to do whatever I want. Right? Does that make sense? I'd like to be able to write dramatic and philosophical plays that make people think. I want to be the next Brecht. Anyway, I can always fall back on my Theatre minor. Hah.

I feel like the Philosophy is the best thing I can take that will prepare me for the upcoming events. In regard to 2021, that is. If or when this world ends. I always get this feeling. This feeling that the changing of the worlds will be an important event for me. Not just me, of course, it will be important for everyone. But, maybe I feel like I am going to play a part in it. Maybe that's just my big ol' imagination. Damn you, imagination. You always raise my hopes.

"There is no remedy for love but to love more."

"There is no remedy for love but to love more." "There is no remedy for love but to love more." "There is no remedy for love but to love more." "There is no remedy for love but to love more." "There is no remedy for love but to love more." "There is no remedy for love but to love more." "There is no remedy for love but to love more." "There is no remedy for love but to love more." "There is no remedy for love but to love more." "There is no remedy for love but to love more." "There is no remedy for love but to love more." "There is no remedy for love but to love more." "There is no remedy for love but to love more." "There is no remedy for love but to love more." "There is no remedy for love but to love more." "There is no remedy for love but to love more." "There is no remedy for love but to love more."

Love more.


Is this retarded? I don't know, I just felt like it.

College, this time fo' real.

So there's a big chance that I will be attending Texas State - San Marcos in the Fall of 2008. I am super excited. They have a great theatre department, one of the best in the state. Laura Lane, otherwise know as 'C.C. Babcock' from T.V.'s The Nanny is a full time lecturer there, which is really exciting. Daniel and I would be getting our own two-room suite, which is very exciting. The whole prospect is just exciting. I'm excited. And I haven't been this excited in a long time.

Daniel, my mom, and I are going there for Bobcat day, which is basically an "opportunity to experience Texas State and get a glimpse into the life of a Bobcat." Yeah. There's only one thing holding me back, but honestly. I'm slightly scared of Tyler. Which I know is ridiculous, but. But. But I don't know. There's no real reason to be scared of him. That whole thing was two years ago. I'm sure he's gotten over it, since he's a fully functioning homosexual now.

Anyway, the whole thing is scary and exciting and stomach-turning all at the same time. Which can be a good thing.

I lost my Cheese: An indepth exploration of "Who moved my Cheese?" and how it relates to me.

Who moved my Cheese is an inspirational parable about change and how to deal with it. The Cheese represents happiness and well-being. Little people live in the Maze and have to find the Cheese. One day they stumble upon Cheese Station C, which is full of cheese. They live their happily, until one day the Cheese is gone. One person refuses to believe that things have changed, while the other gets over his fears and makes his way back into the Maze. After searching for a long while, he finds Cheese Station N, where he and his mouse friends stay happily.

How does this relate to me?

First, what is my Cheese? Happiness, obviously. But what kind of happiness? Security? Love? Friendship? All of these. Security mostly though. The security of an enviroment where I feel safe. High school used to be where my Cheese was, which is odd. I used to hate it. But now I'm out of high school, so I have to find new cheese in college. Which means that I need to find a secure and safe place for me here.

What other Cheese is there?

Again security, but this time in the form of money. I am broke. I used to have a good job with a steady income, but I lost that Cheese. So I now need to find new Cheese in the form of work. Luckily I'm fairly sure that I've gotten the job at Starbucks, so that's okay.

I'm also looking for Cheese in the form of theatre. I would like to be a part of theatre again, like I was in high school. I'm really not liking Cy-Fair so much. I don't feel like I'm learning anything. While I understand that this is the thirteenth grade, I'm still disappointed. But there will be shows next semester, so there's always that.

So, I've realized what my Cheese is/was. And I know how to find it. By overcoming my fears, and running the maze again. It's going to be harder this time, because I'm used to the Cheese being brought to me. The Cheese would just fall into my lap. The first is recognizing the problem, though, so I'm ready to start running.

Once you change what you believe, you change what you do.

I miss smoking.

I miss the taste. I miss having something to do with my hands. I miss the smell. I miss the smokers. I miss the excuse.

My calender features two cows from The Far Side. The female cow stands at the window and looks at the pasture. She says to her partner. "Wendell... I'm not content." I wish I had a Wendell, just so I could tell him that I'm not content either. I'm not content with the life I'm living right now. It feels so empty. It's just repetition. More of the same. I'm not living a fulfilling life. Shouldn't I be? Carpe diem? All that jazz?

"I cannot go to the ocean, I cannot drive the streets at night, I cannot wake up in the morning without you on my mind."

I'm tired. Goodnight.

I forgot my headphones.

So, now I can't listen to my music in the library. Well, not music. Just one song. Over and over again.

I have my Starbucks interview today. I'm not nervous or excited. I just am. Sort of like, insert your favorite adjective here. I'm blank. I'm happy for my Starbucks interview today. I'm apathetic for my Starbucks interview today. I'm gay for my Starbucks interview today. I'm straight for my Starbucks interview today. I'm stupid for my Starbucks interview today. Well, Ryan told me that I should act like I like to go by the book.

[Quick thought: I wonder who he is? Not Ryan, but Abercrombie. He actually didn't look very Abercrombie today. He was wearing a 'Green' shirt. Be Green? He has an Ibook with him everyday.]

I do like to go by the book occasionally. I like formulas. That's the only thing I love about Algebra. Some part of me just loves using formulas over and over again. 2=1+X. X=1. [Quick thought: X=You.] I like formulas, they're a brainless activity. It brings me an inner peace when I sit down. I go over each problem, and all I have to do is plug in a formula. [Quick thought: Please do not start writing cliche' formulas like Me + You = Love. You're a loser, Chris Bernal.]

I see this girl from school, I had first period with her last year. She was one of the popular kids. And now she's at Cy-Fair. I wonder how she feels. Community college. Most popular kids get into either the Awesome league of schools, or party schools where they can transfer into the Awesome league of schools. Seriously, Texas is big on their college. Texas is big on everything. Except hockey. No one really hears about hockey. At least I don't.

My english teacher just walked by and asked me how I was doing. I wish she had noticed that I was writing a blog.

I wish I could like Ibooks. They're just so weird though. My dad almost got me one, but then I'd feel like just another gay stereotype. Gay gay gay. Look at that gay blank with the Ibook. Look at that gay actor with the Ibook. Look at that gay activist with the Ibook. Look at that gay fag with the Ibook. That last one was dumb.

Goodbye, my almost lover.

"Goodbye, my almost lover.
Goodbye, my hopeless dream.
I'm trying not to think about you.
Can't you just let me be?

So long, my luckless romance.
My back is turned on you.
Should've known you'd bring me heartache.
Almost lovers always do."

Should I turn my back on you? Take a chance.

"Reckless dating," she said. "I thought you wanted to start recklessly dating?" He didn't reply. Maybe I should, he thought on the way home. Maybe that would be a good idea, he thought while making dinner. Why can't I do this, he thought while brushing his teeth. Oh my god, he thought as he layed down to sleep. Oh my god.

Love nest.

I wish I was a hippie.

I spent six hours at school today painting. I needed six work hours for my acting I class. Mr. Jones told this one stage manager that I was a great performer. It was weird and very nice. Mr. Sharp was there too. He's the musical director for the Honky Tonk Angels Holiday Spectacular. I know. He was flirting with me? I didn't like it. Just because I'm legal now doesn't mean you can invade my personal space.

I had dinner with Chelsea afterwards. Panda Express. She's looking really good. Maybe more grown up? She said she wasn't wearing as much make up. It's a good change.

"What are you gonna do with your life?"

I'm gonna get what I want.

New Year's Resolutions.

I want to lose weight.

I want to be in a show.

I want to improve my singing skill.

I want to save money.

I want to be more responsible.

I want to move on.

Quotes.

"You're such a coward."

"I really like this girl."

You're a secret-bitch."

"Ron tells me that you're a great performer."

"That's sketchy."

"Triple-threat."

"Political agenda."

"Our love is like a retainer."

Best Kept Secret.

I was singing while picking up dirty clothes, and I suddenly started to cry. So something must be wrong with me.

It's turbulent, at best. This transition to adulthood. That's all college is. We're so pampered in high school, that they have to thrust us into the frying pan and expect filet mignon on the first try. A horrible analogy, but I blame Chelsea. She's the Goddess of Horrible Analogies.

I'm more than this guy. I'm a wading pool with a small deep hole in the middle. Careful babies, you might slip in.

Riddle me this: Why do I still miss you so fucking much?

"Beneath the million stars there's no need to pretend.
I want to be with you. I think it's time that we end,
the best kept secret."

"It's best kept secret."

"When did we lose ever after?"

"You can't be the same boy I followed.
Thought I'd always follow.
You've hurt me more than you know.
All that I wanted was you.
You were my tomorrow."

Happy new year! For those of you that don't know, last night was Samhain. Samhain is the Witch's New Year, which makes today the first day of the year. Things are already looking up. This semester has gone by fairly quick, and I should be passing Algebra and Chemistry. Those are the only classes I need to worry about.

A whole year has gone by already.

Weekend Update.

Friday: Did claims all day, Kayla came over. I was allowed to bring her to It'z, because Julia was bringing her friend Lindsey, and Daniel came later with Troy and Anus[No, it's actually pronounced A-nes. Like the butt hole. But he's really nice.]. The pizza and pasta was really good. It's been a long time since I went to an all you can eat buffet like that. Kayla and I managed to get around 2500 tickets. Each ticket was worth two. I wonder why they would do that? We traded our tickets for six shot glasses, two yo-yos, two rubber chickens on keychains, two poppers, and one foam ring.

Saturday: Claims again. Fuck. Halloween party.

Sunday: Played Beautiful Katamari, The Sims 2: Castaway, and City of Villains. I made a mutant stalker named the Silencer, who uses organic spines that pop out of his skin as a weapon. He also has super reflexes. which allow him to hide and stuff. He won't be able to fly, but super jumping or super speed shouldn't be out of his reach. We'll have to see.

Today:My english teacher really isn't all that stupid. You can see that she really cares about her job, and she tries to make it good for us. She tries to be very intellectual, and she might be. I'm not sure yet. There's this guy in that class. So hot. You know me, I don't usually go for the Abercrombie models, but oh. She got a little mad at him today though. She asked him to close his laptop, because she never knows if he's paying attention. I doubt he is. Anyway, we have a research paper due sometime in November. I think I'm going to be doing mine on A Jury of Her Peers by Susan Glaspell. Tennis now. I have to grab my racquet before.

All you need is love.

I really want someone to tell me. Tell me that I'm a horrible actor. Tell me that I can't sing worth shit.

I think I'm scared. I'm scared that I'm going to put myself out there and fail.

That's ridiculous. I was nominated for Tommy Tunes. I was nominated for Best Supporting Actor in Tommy Tunes. They said themselves that I could sing. I feel like I can sing. Maybe I'm just out of touch.

I feel like people aren't being honest with me. Just tell the truth!

I'm so conflicted. I love doing theatre. How is this a hard decision for me?

It's not just that. I've just realized that I might be scared to fall in love again. I know why, obviously. I just always thought that I was stronger than that. I thought that the whole point was to make me stronger. I'm just like you, only I hide it better. Have I put up these walls? Walls that I thought I would never need? Walls to protect, and walls to forget. It's not that I still love you. I don't. But I think, sub-conciously, I don't want to do it again. Maybe that's why I feel like I'm done with love. All you need is love. I feel like I don't need it. All you need is love. I feel like I don't want it. All you need is love, love.

Love is all you need.

Resentment.

I resent my parents.

I'm trying not to, really. It's hard though. I've been looking at jobs, because I can't keep working at Kohls like this. The late hours are killing me. It gets so hard to wake up. But I really don't want to go through the application process again. I'm tired.

The reason I resent my parents, is because they sort of made me quit the Y. I had decided that I was going to quit on good terms. I wanted to say to him, "Dave, I'm going to work during my vacation, but I'm putting in my two weeks now." It was my parents that convinced me to just quit on the spot.

Last night I was pissed at myself. How could I let a damn good job like that slip away? I mean, it was Dave that pushed me to the edge. I worked three summers without missing a week. He couldn't find a way to give me that last week of the summer? Even though I put in for it at least a month early?

If I do go back, it won't be until the summer. So I think I'm gonna shape up and start kicking those claims into gear.

It's not that I'm still grounded.

I'm just trying to be good.

Friday I talked to my parents, and while they were still upset they gave in to my pestering and let me go. The party was definitely worth it.

I didn't want to be a bad kid yesterday, so I stayed in. All day. I wanted to kill myself, I was so bored. No, that's way too exaggerated. I didn't want to kill myself, I was just really bored. I tried to read the plays I checked out, I tried to play games, nothing. Although I started to read Steel Magnolias before I went to bed, it looks good.

Anyway, I think I have to work today, which sucks. I'm just tired and blah. I had a dream about work. My work consisted of collecting leaves in a bag, weighing them, and throwing them into a bigger pile of bags. Amanda Chow and others worked there as well, although I don't know how they managed the drive from College Station. Oddly enough, a certain John that gave me mean looks in 12th grade worked there too. We carpooled together, and I couldn't help but think of him in a certain way. I wonder what he's doing now? He couldn't of have graduated highschool, he skipped every day of first period. No, literally every day.

I should go. I really need to clean my car soon.

An Examination of the Emotional and Mental Effects of a Grounding.

v. ground·ed, ground·ing, grounds
4.
b. [Informal] To restrict (someone) especially to a certain place as a punishment.

I'm grounded.

I completely understand why. I just think it's ridiculous.

I understand, and even admit the fact that all week long I've been lazy, selfish, and irresponsible. Really, I do. We all have bad weeks. Last week was a good week for me. This week was a really bad week. Not bad emotionally. Just morally.

I'm upset, obviously. I accept that. Am I handling it in the most mature way? Of course not. I'm sitting in my room, in the dark, wasting my time. I should be using it efficiently; I suppose I should be trying to get back into the good graces of my parents. Do I want to? Heck no. But that's just my stubborn and selfish nature.

I think I'll discuss this with them over dinner, and maybe then I'll get to go to the party.

So my dad says to me:

"Chrifu, what are you gonna do with your life?"

Seriously, what else could I say?

"I'm gonna get what I want."

A word problem.

Daniel's mad.

Daniel uses 2/4 of his free time to study for chemistry, and scores an 80 on the test. Christopher uses 1/4 of his free time to study for chemistry and scores a 90 on the test. Calculate the study time/test percentage ratio and then call me, because I don't get it either.

It's not like I try to piss him off. We're equally smart, it's just that I'm more intuitive and he's more hard-working. Gawd, we're the epitome of Pisces. I go up, think more abstract thoughts, while he goes down and thinks more logical thoughts. The two fish.

While I like who I am, I wish I was more down to earth. Especially when it comes to living in the real world.

'Sigh'. The real world.

Smoking.

I've been smoking alot lately. I'm not sure why. Maybe I think it's cool? But that's ridiculous. If anything, smoking is so not cool now a days.

Am I trying to become something else? One of those beatnik poets who smoke and write all the time? Or maybe more of a Carrie Bradshaw?[On a side note, I really need to stop talking about Sex in the City.]

Maybe it's just a college thing? Alot of people pick up smoking in college, and then leave it there too. Maybe it's because I've been partying a bit more? Or at all?

Likes and Dislikes.
-It relaxes me. -Sometimes I get too lightheaded and want to puke.
-It gives me something to do with my hands. -It makes my fingers smell.
-I like watching the smoke. -The smoke bothers me when it goes up my nose.
-Alot of people don't like it. -Alot of people don't like it.
-Sometimes my mouth tastes weird after.

Eh, I don't know.

Super short story.

Stewart walks him up the steps to his apartment. He smiles at Stewart, who was thinking about how great their first date went. He says, "So, what'd you think of the movie Doug?"
Doug thinks for a minute. "Well," he starts. "I really liked the part when you held my hand." They smile again. Stewart leans in and they kiss. They kiss again. And again.
Doug stops. Stewart frowns. Doug says, "Look Stewart. I really like you, and well.." He hesitates. "I mean, Carrie slept with Big on the first date, and look how their relationship is!"

Blackbird.

Blackbird singing in the dead of night,
take these broken wings and learn to fly.
All your life
you will be waiting for this moment to arrive.

Blackbird singing in the dead of night,
take these sunken eyes and learn to see.
All your life
you will be waiting for this moment to be free.

Blackbird fly.
Blackbird fly.
Into the light of the dark black night.

I thought I heard gun shots as I sat outside and smoked. I love smoking.

I'm going to work.

Kohls is cool. My manager is Katie Daugherty's aunt, oddly enough. Sorry, I don't know if I spelled her name right. She said that she's going to try to get me out early because I have class at 8 the next mornings.

It's nice. I like it. No one else wears their name tags, so I don't know if I will. I suppose I should. I'll bring it. There's alot of on your own time. We basically all walk around our departments putting new signs up. Luckily there's music playing. It gets hot towards the end of the night. Hopefully I won't get out later then one AM this time. I should go now. I just wanted to tell you guys about it.

Thoughts?

I need just a little help with this scene. I need a good witty line at the end. Where PHILLIP says, "Oh honey. We both needed a real man." I need that to be funnier. Help?


Lights up on up left. DOUG is smoking a cigarette. PHILLIP races in. He sees DOUG smoking and sighs.

PHILLIP. I thought you were trying to quit.

DOUG. I did. I quit.

PHILLIP. Then what is that in your hand?

DOUG. Nothing. There’s nothing in my hand. [Silence.] Just pretend it isn’t there.

Phillip sighs. A tense silence.

DOUG. How could he? How can he just show his face here and expect.. Whatever.

PHILLIP. [Puts his hands on DOUG’s face.] You have just as much, if not more to offer then that girl will ever be able to give to him. Come here. [He draws DOUG into an embrace.]

DOUG. I know, it’s just.. Thanks. That really means a lot. [Silence. He breaks the hug.] Why did you and I ever break up?

PHILLIP. Oh honey. We both needed a real man. You coming in?

DOUG. Soon.

Oh, Almighty Goodness.

I'm going through my old xanga entries. I was such a dork in ninth grade. I decided that I want to post my favorite entries on here though. Just to give a more indepth history of my, well, history.

Edit*
Surprisingly, life didn't become very interesting until after I quit band. Damn. Theatre was that good for me.

Edit*
Uh, not that theatre was that good for me. That sounded weird.

College life.

I've been meaning to write an entry about how 'college life' has changed me.

Not much to write about actually.

I don't know. I realize how much I miss theatre and doing shows. I've been going out every weekend.

That's it. Nothing much has really changed. Which is why I kind of feel like my life is on hold, if only for now. Maybe it's because I'm still at home. I love it, my parents don't care what I do, they're treating Daniel and me with more respect. It's also kind of bad, because they do expect us to do alot more work then we did in high school, which is completely acceptable.

What's wrong with me?

I'm only human.

What a revelation!

All of a sudden, I feel like I'm falling in love. It's like I have this new lease on life!

I know what you're thinking, but you're wrong! There isn't anyone special. It's myself? It's this life right now. I have butterflies in my stomach, and the only thing that is inducing them is myself. What's up with that? I'm giddy!

Really, it's beyond my advanced cognition to state this feeling in words. Besides, I'm only human.

I'm only human.

On the theory of Goodness.

Where does evil come from? It does not stem from anything, but is just there. It lurks in the hearts of man.

Gawd, that's corny but it's true. We all have our own personal demons, who egg us on. But what of us who try to be good?

"Being born with a talent or an inclination for goodness is the aberration."

Oh Elphaba. You and I are so alike sometimes. I'm not raising myself on the pedestal of legend, but I feel that I try to be good. Sure, I can be mean, and cynical, and rude, and dumb. But I try? Isn't that enough?

No good deed goes unpunished.

Is it true? Do people tend to hate the good? Are the good people in life reviled? Are good deeds just a cry for attention?

Is that all good deeds are when looked at with an ice cold eye?

You're right. I am cocky. I know that I am a good singer, and I'm pretty sure that I am a good actor. Is that so wrong? It's not like I go around telling everyone. Maybe it's because I try to be good. Maybe you see me with an ice cold eye, and condemn me to nothing but an attention-whore.

Or maybe it's because I came into that department as a nobody-nothing. And ended up better then you. Maybe you're just jealous that more people like me. I don't understand why I let you get under my skin. Gawd! Because I try to be good? I try, I try! I try to be a good person. I'm not responsible or studious. But I try, I try! I try to be always the polite one. The nice one. The good one. I have my moments. I slip. I'm not always good. But you'll never see me proclaim that I am the most good of all. The least wicked.

Gawd, this whole rant sounds so conceited.

Maybe I should just promise to never do a good deed again. But I can't do that. Elphaba went crazy in the end. The crazy wicked Witch of the West.

You weirdo.

Okay.

So.

There's this weird, cute guy in my algebra class. Not the cute guy who wears his pants low, Michelle, but a different one. He talks to the teacher alot, tells stupid jokes.

There's a guy and girl who sit in front of the cute guy. They flirt alot, talk alot. They think math is boring, and don't care about it. Hey, no big. I don't care about it either.

Today the cute guys raises his hand and says, "Excuse me, can you tell the people in front of me to stop flirting or having foreplay, or whatever it is they're doing?"

The girl gets pissed. She and the cute guy start yelling, and to my surprise, cursing at eachother, although the girl never turns around to look at him.

Mr. Algebra walks slowly to the back of the class and says, "Calm down, calm down. This is mathematics, nothing to get over-excited about." He's a harmless, old man.

I suddenly got this burrning desire to laugh.

I'm gonna follow that cute guy after class one day. Although I should call him cute, creepy guy now.

The Unnamed God.

"Oh, will this nightmare never end," screamed Dorothy, and she grabbed at a bucket for collecting rainwater that, in the sudden flare-up of light, had come into view. She said, "I will save you!" and she hurled the water at the Witch.

I hope you know, I hope you know
that this has nothing to do with you.
It's personal,
myself and I,
we've got some straightening out to do.

I had a dream.

The second part of the dream was a mix between Sex and the City and Heroes. Miranda had this weird power that she could see a person inside of this computer, while Samantha had three daughters with powers. Oddly enough, the oldest two were played by Sarah Michelle Geller and Michelle Trachtenberg. I suppose I only linked that because Kim Cattrall played Trachtenberg's coach in Ice Princess, and Trachtenberg played Geller's sister in Buffy. There was also a little younger sister but I don't know who played her. Anyway, Some evil guy wanted to kill Samantha and the youngest daughter, but instead kidnapped Samantha, her husband, and the daughter. Trachtenberg knew that he took them because of the daughter's powers, but couldn't convince Geller of it until they put their hands together and a bright white light came out. That's all I saw, that part was a preview of next week.

New Heroes tonight, yay!

It's a love/love thing.

Lazy sundays. Really, I love them. I do. Even if I have Kohls orientation today, it still feels like a lazy day. I'm supposed to have dinner tonight with Jessica and Hannah, but Jessica says she might be too tired from rehearsal. Which is cool, I guess. I'm surprised that they have rehearsal on a sunday, but I'm actually not really surprised. All the complaints about missing homecoming[when they didn't], and from what Katherine tells me, they need all the rehearsal they can get. They open this week.

I love Sex in the City. Carrie's narration is just running through my head. I want to write like that.

While Vicki was rushing to make it to rehearsal before she was even more late, I was contemplating my first day at Kohls. Orientation. An introduction, basically, to something new. What was it all going to entail? And speak of tail, Faraz was in the process of getting some.

I don't know, some bull like that. Anyway, I have to go.

Who am I, anyway? [reprise]

Am I a signage person at Kohls? Do I come in, after the store has closed, to replace old sales with new sales? Do I do this until one in the morning, for seven dollars an hour? I guess I will soon.

I'm not too ecstatic about the job, but it is a job. And anyway, what do I do from eight to ten pm? I buy stuff. So, at least this will help me save.

Lyn and I are going re-job hunting tomorrow. Maybe find something that a vampire wouldn't enjoy.

Besides, I have no idea why the manager thought I would have an eye for detail. I definitely felt like Augesten Burroughs, when he goes to offer his advertising for a sail company. They tell him that they're happy with their advertising company, but then offer him a job cutting sails. They didn't even ask him if he was qualified for it. Stupid.

And I just laughed on the inside.

I feel fat.

"Who am I, anyway?
Am I my resume,
that is a picture
of a person I don't know.

What does he want from me?
What should I try to be?
So many faces
all around,
and here we go.

I need this job.
Oh god, I need this show."

I got kicked out of the Chem lab today, because I was wearing flip-flops. Some girl argued back at the teacher, "These aren't sandals, they're shoes." The teacher then proceeded to get mad; her face steadily reddened, and she said, "It does not matter; they are open-toed."

Anyway, it's ironic that the above lyrics from A Chorus Line popped into my head this morning, as I am going to my Kohls interview this evening. I want to take a shower and shave before, but I have voice lessons at 3:30, and I don't know if I'll be back in time to do all that. I should have enough time to get home and change, and then I can grab my electric and shave in the car or something. I've done that before.

A guy to my left is wearing a beret.

That's college for you, I guess.

Unemployed? Pt. III

Lynashley and I both got calls from Kohls. We have interviews on Tuesday. It actually went like this.

Lyn was laying in my bed when the housephone rang. Daniel was the only other person in the house, and I knew that he wasn't going to get it, so I did. "Hello?" It was Kohls. We set up an interview on tuesday at 5. I excitedly hung up and ran into my room. "LYN!! Kohls called, they wanted an interview!!!!! YAY!!!"
She was pissed. "What the fuck?" For the past month, she had been trying to get jobs and they had never called her. Of course, the job that we apply for together is the job that calls me first. She starts chasing me around the house, yelling. I decide to use the stairs, since she can't stand them. Eventually we both get winded and end up on the floor of my room. She checks her phone. She's missed a phone call. From Kohls.

Anyway, I'm really excited that I got a phone call so early. It's only been two days, after all. Cross your fingers, lets hope Lynashley and I get this job together.

I love when the weather is just right.

I just spent an hour and a half sitting in a cold room, hunched over an algebra test that would've been easier if I had bothered to look at the review problems he gave us. But when I got outside, it was that comfortable kind of heat, the kind that makes you want to crawl up on the warm ground and cat-nap. Unfortunately, I don't have my laptop, otherwise I would've stayed outside. It's cold in the library too, and I can't even get a latte to warm me up. The espresso machine is down.

Pointless post, but the weather was nice.

Damn Vicki.

Inspiring me to write.

“It’s hard,” he says.

I remember kissing him. Our lips would lock, and time would slow down. I remember kissing him with my eyes wide open; his eyes would shut tightly.

He says, “Sometimes.”

I remember looking at his eyelids. I remember the feeling of that small, tiny patch of forgotten beard after he would shave. I remember that his lips were heavy and hot.

I look at him. “What’s it like?” I would say.

He looks down. “It’s complete night, nothing but clubs and mosh pits.”

It’s what he says every time, and I believe him. It’s what he wants.

He looks up. His mouth opens, but before he can speak, the wind blows. The candle flame sputters and dies, leaving the room dark.

Sigh. I stand and flip a switch. The harsh light shines on an empty room. He never can stay long. He was the same way when he was alive.

Unemployed? Pt. II

Lyn and I went job hunting today. We applied at Linen's and Things, Barnes and Noble, Office Depot, and Kohls. I also applied at Petsmart.

I really hope it rains soon. The clouds have been on again/off again looming all day. Is it proper to give clouds an on again/off again attribute? I suppose it's not necessarily that the clouds are getting together and breaking up, or anything like that. Maybe I should've worded it better.
"The clouds have been looming on and off all day."

That's better.

It's nice to think of your friends in high school when you're wandering around town, eating lunch at McDonalds. It feels weird, sort off like when you skip class, or when you miss school for something frivolous. Exciting. Dangerous. Well, not really dangerous. Privileged. That's the right word. We're privileged.

I suppose.

I suppose...

Semi-colons are dumb. I don't know, I just don't like using them so much.

I applied for a job at Starbucks. I'm fairly excited, and I hope I get it. They get fairly nice wages, I hear, plus don't they get dental insurance? I'm supposed to go job hunting with Lynashley today.

I can't do claims forever. I'll kill myself. Seriously, sitting at that small laptop for hours, typing and staring at that screen. It'll kill me. I start to hurt after 30 minutes, my shoulders, my fingers, my wrists, my neck, my eyes, my ears. It's a serious job hazard.

I had Chick-fil-a for breakfast and it felt soo good. That's right, it didn't just taste good. It felt good.

Unemployed?

I'm not technically unemployed. I still do all that insurance claim work for my mom. But that's definitely not bringing in the money. So, I'm thinking about getting a job on the side. Strictly part time, weekends, maybe a couple nights a week. First on my list is Studio Movie Grill, which might be cool. I know several people that work there, and while the pay isn't high, it doesn't seem to be that tough. Now, that's just my naive outside view, so feel free to correct me if you work or have worked there. Plus, Lynashley and I agreed that we would do it together, if at all.

It just feels like a step down. I made seven something at the Y, and it was pretty easy. My boss was a pain, and the hours were tough, but I made near 500 every two weeks. The pay now would be lower since it's the off season, but it'd still be seven something.
But, Chelsea's right. It's a different field. It's entertainment, people pleasing. So it's not bad.

I can't help feeling that it's a class difference, but that's completely retarded. It's my stupid parents. My dad doesn't care, but my mom definitely will. Her parents were raised by Nazis. And that's not a metaphor.

Still, all this thinking has done a good thing and made me reach out to Whitney, whom I will hopefully be hanging out with tonight. Yay!

You're right Faraz.

I just need too rebound from this slump. I just need to find my own Ryan, someone I can just make out with, and mess around with, and be cool with that. I need to start dating. Seriously. It's vitally important to my mental and emotional health that I start dating soon. But how? How the fuck can I find guys to date? The internet? Hah! Yeah right. But maybe that is how I can find guys. Damn.

Just for the record, this beautiful day turned into a hot shine-down.

It's a love/hate thing.

I love when I see people from highschool, but I hate it when they see me.

Wow, my english teacher was fairly rude at the beginning of class today. Hah, when I walked in Mini-dawson was talking about her, and I loved it because class-mates were agreeing with him, which lets me know I'm not alone. He was talking about how it was hard for him to write the essay, because when everything he tried to share in class, she metaphorically told him he was wrong. Then as another guy was going to say something, she walked in.

Oh gawd, I just realized I used 'wow' and 'hah' in my previous paragraph. I don't know if that's good or bad.

There's this guy in the library, everytime I come in after English. I've never seen him before this year. But he's got really cute dirty blonde hair, and mutton chops. Not full on really, just long long sideburns. Anyway, everytime I come into the library, he's playing Super Mario 64 on his laptop. I really just want to go up to him and say, "Hey, sweet game." or something like, "Hey, I love Super Mario 64." But it's weird. What it also weird is that I subconsciously chose a computer on the second floor where I could see him on the first floor. He sits pretzel-style on his chair, which reminds me of Zach Schulte and his weird way of sitting, which reminds me of Hannah and her taste in awkward, artsy boys. Which sort of means I have a taste in awkward, artsy boys. And who wouldn't? Maybe Lynashley, or Morgan, or Faraz. Although, Lynashley, Faraz and I share the same taste in manly men. But then, I'm sure Faraz and Morgan share the same taste in twinky guys. What I wanted to say, was that I'm sure I would like Yma's Joseph, if he's this kind of awkward, artsy guy I'm thinking of.

Hahaha! What if I post this, and the cute guy reads it for some random reason. And he realizes that he's the guy. And he looks up and sees me looking at him. That would be bad!

Today is a beautiful day. I'll touch on that later.

I went all week without blogging.

I need to keep up. I can't stop this year. Or ever again.

Not always, but alot of times during school, or when I'm hanging out, bloggish thoughts will enter my head, and I'll feel like typing them up right away. It's odd, but I like it.

What sucks is that I can't think of anything to write right now. And I don't feel like posting this on three other sites.

Ooh, there's a cute guy from my class in the library.

My english teacher isn't that dumb.

Although she's kind of rude.

Mayby she's just getting frustrated?

I tried to make it easier by speaking up, but I felt like she treated my answer like it was wrong. You're the wrong one, lady. Luckily, two classmates supported me. I thought that was nice.
I'm right though. The speaker in Frost's 'Mending Wall' isn't looking to change the tradition of the reparing the wall each spring. He's merely providing a commentary on his thoughts and views while building it. He may or may not approve of the wall, but he likes the tradition of going out each spring and mending it. It's also a time for the neighbors to 'mend' their relationship, as stupid as that sounds.

Chrfwzrd: I'm alot like you, only I hide it better.
Vickiooos: ?
Chrfwzrd: Goodnight.
Vickiooos: lol wtf

This odd feeling.

Do you ever get that odd feeling of numbness? Actually, I wouldn't really call it numbness. More like an overwhelming of feeling.

I look at something. It gives me this odd feeling. I sit in my chair, looking at this thing. I give it a good few minutes before the feelings almost overwhelm me. Then I say, "Okay, enough. Don't do this to yourself anymore." So I stop.

But it's not until I stop looking at this thing that I realize that the feeling was so overwhelming. When I stop looking, the hairs on my arms and head all stand up. I start shivering. And a knot gathers in my throat. I unconsciously push back the tears.

I want to cry. But I rarely do. It must be a guy thing.

Party politics.

It's my mom's birthday party, and outdoor swimming/grilling/ping-ponging get together with her school friends who have never met us before, but know almost everything about us. My father and his work, staying at home all day. Daniel and his VW bus, his State ring from the football team he barely played on. Julia, her middle school drama, swimming and volleyball. Ollie and his near OCD status, which I feel like no one but me will actually recognize. Me and my gayness. My paganism. My theatre. And even our friends. Daniel and his friend named Anus. Me and Yma, the bald girl.
Needless to say, I don't feel too comfortable.
Needless to say, I don't necessarily want to be here.

The women sit in or by the pool, chatting away, while they force their family and husbands to mingle with eachother. Awkwardly. For a whole five minute, some dad and I watched Daniel and my dad play ping pong. This was after ten minutes of watching two other dads play ping pong. In near silence.

Of course, I'm over-dramatizing. But oh well. It's a lark.

Thank goodness.

For the weekend. I'm really looking forward to sleeping in tomorrow.

So, I might be in a movie. Not a real one, just a fun project. Connor Clifton and Panda are directing/writing it. It's basically an 80's movies spoof. Connor wants me to play the lead, which should be cool. It'll be fun and give me something to do since I won't be able to do any plays at college this semester. Plus I've got voice lessons, the insurance stuff for my mom, and I'm working on my play.

I'm excited about that, although I need to continue work on it. I don't want to burn myself out on it, but I can't just leave it alone until I get inspiration. I feel like I need to work on it, even if it's shit. The plan is, shit will inspire me to fix it, and lead to brilliance. I've already slightly rewrote the scene I posted, although not much. I just love that scene. It reminds me of Bare, which I love. Actually, the quote at the top is from Bare. So we'll see.

I love writing blogs now, and I want to get more people to read! So I've started using tags.

I just had this stupid stupid day dream.

In which some celebrity finds out that my tarot readings come true, and they start this huge fad where all the stars come to me for readings. I keep telling the press, "I"m not psychic or anything. People believe what they want to believe, and people believe that my readings are true."

So this day dream starts with me in my two bedroom apartment that I share with Elizabeth in Boston or L.A. or San Fransico. I get a buzz from the front door, and someone says, "Mr. Efron would like a reading, Mr. Bernal." And I say, "Mr. Efron should know that I don't give readings afer five o'clock without an appointment." Than Zac's voice comes on. "Chris, come on let me in. I just need to see you." I sigh, and let him in, because I've always been a sucker for cute suck-ups. He comes up, and he sees that I'm writing a blog, which has become nationally read since I made the D-list. "Ugh," he ughs. "I hate that blog of yours. I read it everyday in fear that my name will be on there." Then we fight, because he thinks he should be able to control me, and I think that he's a snob. I tell him, "We're not even going out anymore, and it's not my fault that some drunk you fucked in a bathroom took a great oppurtunity to out you to the world." Then he sighs and says, "You're right, I'm sorry." Then he spends half an hour trying to get me to let him stay the night, which I can't because I've got an 8:00 reading with my favorite client, Jennifer Aniston. Besides, I broke up with him, and if I give him any ground I'd be slightly ashamed. Although my sister, who's just graduated highschool and is going to some great school on a volleyball/swimming scholarship, doesn't understand why I don't just use him back. She doesn't understand that I would never use my clients celebrity to get my plays published, which I've now started writing under a pen name.

"Red High Heels."

I'm gonna call up that old boyfriend you said still has it bad for me.

Gonna take him into town, flaunt him around, for everyone to see.

Well, you say 'Watch yourself, baby.' Well, you know the deal.

Nobody holds a candle to me in my red high heels.

If only I felt like that all the time. This song will be popular with the fans of the Brokeback Boys. I just need some red high heels to fit my feet.

It's 8th grade all over again.

God, I spent the last two years of highschool becoming way more self-confident, more friendly, and less shy. Now in a single week, that's all gone. I'm this moody middle schooler again, who doesn't talk to anyone, thinks he's smarter than everyone, and reads way too much. I feel so uncomfortable in my own skin. I keep telling myself that it'll change, "You'll lose weight, you'll get to know people, that zit inbetween your eyes will fade." And deep down, I know that it's true. It's just that right now I don't feel good at all.

Now that I think about it, I realize that it's only on mondays and wednesdays that I feel like that. Tuesdays and thursdays I'm with Daniel in chem, and Stefani in algebra, and I enjoy those classes. If only because I'm with people I've known for a good while.

And english isn't bad, just my dumb teacher. But I guess it's just tennis and acting that I feel awkward. I'm really reconsidering this acting thing. But it's the only real thing I can think of that could pay the bills. That and teach, hahah. Which is probably what I'll end up doing. Teaching english, theatre, philosophy, or theology. Whatever, you know.

Okay, now it's time to actually pay the bills. Work.

An event in my college Eng. II class.

We were talking about symbols, and someone suggested the dove. "It represents peace?" the girl said, as our teacher gave her a dumbfounded look. "Oh, yes," said the teacher. "Like in the Vietnam war, with the doves and the hawks. They represented the people for and against the war, the one in Vietnam. The doves were obviously the hippies, because they were getting killed and drafted."

I metaphorically beat my head on the desk.

Rough draft.

Like real life, this play has too many story lines. Too many characters with broken hearts. Too many inside jokes.

Spotlights up right and down left. Up right, Doug is seated with his arms around his knees. Matthew stands uncomfortably, shivering in the cold. Down left, Stephen is sitting on a chair, with Jenny straddled over his legs. They are making out. He stops her.

JENNY. Do you not want this?

STEPHEN. I don’t know if you want this.

JENNY. Well.. [She kisses him. They make out.]

DOUG. What do you want from me Matthew?

MATTHEW. Nothing. I… You don’t need to give me anything.

DOUG. What does that mean? Do you want me to still like you?

MATTHEW. No. I mean… I don’t know.

DOUG. What? Do you still like me? Do you want me to tell you that I never stopped loving you? Even when I tried to cut you completely out of my life?

Stephen stops Jenny from continuing. He’s silent.

MATTHEW. No, I just… I…

DOUG. Well?

JENNY. Say something.

STEPHEN. I… I can’t.

MATTHEW. Well..

DOUG. [Stands, and grabs Matthew’s chin.] Just look at me. Look.

JENNY. [Grabs Stephen’s chin.] Just look me straight in the eye and tell me. Tell me we'll never go out again.

STEPHEN. Okay. We'll never go out again.

MATTHEW. Okay.

DOUG. Tell me. Tell me that there's nothing there.

JENNY. Absolutely nothing no matter how deep down inside.

STEPHEN. Jenny…

JENNY. Break my heart, Stephen. Please God, just break my heart.

MATTHEW. Doug, don’t.

DOUG. Tell me.

MATTHEW & STEPHEN. I really like this girl.

Black out.

Stealing hearts.

Why can't someone just steal my heart back from him?

It's been almost two years. I've liked him for so long, and I have no idea what he feels about me now. I guess I kind of deserve it. I cut him completely from my life, that he might be hurt. And it wasn't completely his fault that I got hurt so bad. But, still. You'd think that I might've moved on by now. But it's so hard. I wish I could just sit down with him and discuss it. But I don't think I'd hear anything new or important. He's a capricorn, I'm a pisces. I just feel so much stronger than he does. What sucks the most is that no one has come along to make me forget him. No one has come alone to take back that piece of my heart. Or to give me some of theirs.

Maybe that's what it is. Maybe we each just give and recieve pieces of hearts, to fill the holes and the cracks that are in our own. I gave him a piece of mine, and I still haven't recieved one back. Maybe that's why we go through life. To mix and match hearts, so that we're fully grown and mature souls. We trade pieces, to find a way to connect us all.

My week on the island.

This is my last night on the island, and it's been a very nice week.

Friday morning I went to Cy-fair to pick up my student ID, my stomach was hurting. I also called my boss Dave to tell him that I wasn't coming in, because I was quitting. Later he called to tell me that I needed to find coverage or I'd be fired instead of quitting. Eh, I don't care. I wanted to do it the right way, go the two weeks, get a nice recommendation, but my parents convinced me not to. They held up a 2,200 dollar car fixing over my head, what can I say? Than we left, and drove for about an hour and a half. We passed a burning car on the way.

Saturday was nice. I slept in late. Daniel and I are sharing a room with two sets of bunk beds, so we each get two beds to ourselves. Lulu also seems to like this room alot, and she sleeps on the floor between us. We went to the beach. I flew a kite. Than my dad barbequed for dinner.

Sunday was also nice. Basically the same thing. Wake up, eat lunch, beach, eat dinner. We went into town, and I got a seagull kite from Academy.

Most everyone in our area left after the weekend, and we had the beach to ourselves on

Monday. The seagull kite was hard to fly.

Tuesday we went into town for an early lunch. Julia, Ollie, and Mom went to Moody Gardens, and Daniel, Dad, and I saw Superbad. It was pretty much what I expected. Stupid laughs. I still enjoyed it. Oddly enough, the movie theatre was playing musicals with the regular music. It was odd. That night we had a bonfire on the beach. I roasted a bratwurst, and had burnt marshmallows. I love burnt marshmallows. As I looked up at the clear stars, all I could think of was the vast empty space that it really was, and I realized that I would probably never leave Earth, even if I was given the chance.

We hung out on Wednesday, than went to Schlitterbahn around 2:30. You get in cheaper at 3, since it closes at 6. On the way in I saw Chelsea from Seussical. It was totally unexpected, and a little awkward. Of course, this world is so small.

Today was nice. We went to the beach after lunch, which had huge waves. The tide was very high.

We should be leaving around 10 tomorrow.

It's been nice, a great chance to bond with my family. But I'll stll be glad to be home.

Today's philosophy.

Today's philosophy is drawn from the ongoing struggle between Chaos and Order.

I was lifeguarding on the corner, just standing and watching the pool, when a little boy wih highlights approaches me. "Look what I did." He said, and pointed to the ropes. All the bouys on the rope were facing the same direction and were evenly spaced apart. I nodded approvingly, and he went on his business. Five minutes later, I return my attention to the rope in front of me and I see a little mexican girl moving the bouys around, purposely taunting the boys who had organized them. In a matter of seconds, it was was a battle. The girl and her male cohort would swim around the ropes messing with the bouys, while the three boys would either cry or get mad and try to fix them. Eventually I had to step in and say, "Hey, stop playing with the ropes!" The little boy who had originally approached me came back, almost crying. "Thank you." He said, and I almost laughed.

Basically, the metaphor is that no matter how much order is put down, chaos will come back and mess things up. It just all depends on what you like better.

Uninvited.

It's not that I'm feeling left out or anything. I'm just missing it. Zombie Prom rehearsal started today, a few minutes ago, and I really wanna go. But I can't. I mean, I could, but it would be bad. I'm supposed to be done with highschool. And I am! But not with high school theatre. Which is understandable, considering that I was well-liked there and I was pretty much guaranteed roles in shows. And I'm going to a bigger place, with stronger actors, and of course I'm worried. 'Sigh'

Of course, add that to the fact that a parent was telling me how to teach their kid today, and the fact that they were right. It just totally showed me that swim lessons aren't for me. And, of course, my horoscope: "On August 6, your ruling planet Jupiter turns direct after four months of backward movement." All summer I've been hating work. "This forward shift in your 10th House of Career and Community is likely to expand your understanding of your role in society and even lead to new professional opportunities." When I read this my jaw dropped. So I'm learning more about my role in society, but where does that place me on the job market? I don't know.

"But this is not allowed.
You're uninvited,
An unfortunate slight."

So..

I really hate work. And like, I know it's a great job, with great pay, but that's all besides the point. I really don't like to work. It's something genetic, like my brown hair or my homosexuality[hah, notice how I threw in a controversial subject]. The Laziness is sunken deep down in my DNA strands. I think I just need to find a guy who can keep me, maybe a Capricorn or Taurus. Yeah, that's great. I've found another way to lower my already shallow dating pool. That's actually my dream. I haven't told many people about it. I'm going to meet a nice Harvard law school grad, that is taller than me, slim, dark-haired, and named Chad. We'll live together in New York. We'll get up in the morning, I'll make breakfast[waffles and coffee for him/tea for me], which I'll then take back to bed. He'll grab a waffle, kiss me goodbye, and make his way to work. I'll spend the morning perusing a script/practicing a new song/writing. On good days, he'll surprise me at lunch time and we'll have sex. In the evenings we'll meet up and catch a show, or just spend it at home by the fireplace, cuddling.

That's the basic set, and from there it can other places. I may be a part of the Country cover band the Brokeback Boys. Or I'll be on Broadway performing as Peter in Bare: A Pop Opera, and when Chad sees me he'll get secretly jealous of the actor playing Jason, and fiercely make love to me that night. Or I'll teach classes in Philosophy, Theology, or Theatre at NYU.

God, I miss blogging.

Cosmic Brownies.

I've definitely been very nostalgic these past couple days. I suppose it's due to the fact that I graduated. I've been thinking and discussing the past alot, especially elementary and middle school. Not on purpose or anything, it's just been coming up randomly.

Like Everquest. I can't believe I'm getting back into Everquest. I used to live for that game. It made me so freakin' happy.

I just feel so adult now. And it's not bad, but it's not great. And now I'm going to college. And soon I'll be moving out. Probably sooner than later, at the rate the home life is going down the toilet. My parents threatened to basically kick Daniel and me out, because we weren't pulling our share around the house. I passed the message on to Daniel, and he didn't even care. I'm scared. I know they wouldn't ever make me leave, but they really don't have to take care of me anymore. They could kick me out if they wanted to. They wouldn't, but still.

How can I be an adult if I'm still so childish?

How do we balance on this tight rope of life?

[That is way to cliche'. Gross.]

What makes a leader? Pt. 4

Courage. A leader must have courage.

That's not to say that a leader can't be scared. I'm scared. But I need to have the courage to face my fears. Fuck fuck fuck, though.

Why is it so fucking hard to be brave? Why is it so hard to overstep the fear, and do it!? I still haven't apoligised. And I guess I need to. But goddamit, it's so hard. If I am going to do it, I need to do it in person and as soon as possible.

And this thing tomorrow. What if my worst fear happens? I need Yma with me there tomorrow.

I just thought about what Hannah said at graduation today. If we are satisfied with who we are, and don't strive to be more, then we're not living at all. We need to strive forward and become better people. Become leaders.

This will make me a better person in the end. I just wish it wasn't so hard.

What makes a leader? Pt. 3

"Sorry is the hardest word."

I read that somewhere. Sorry is the hardest thing to say. To admit that you fucked up. It's not just admitting that you did the wrong thing. It's admitting that maybe you didn't do enough. And, a leader needs to be able to admit his faults. To be big enough to stand and say, "I'm sorry. It's my fault."

And I feel like it is. Maybe not everything, but I truly feel that if maybe I had done something more, or even something else things would've turned out different.

[I wish my music shuffle was more tuned to my feelings, and would play despondent, pensive songs.]

But as I look back, I realize that this isn't just this one occasion. I do mess up. I do make people upset. I do hurt feelings. And I feel like some people may think that those feelings don't matter, but I still have this urge to be nice. Is that a bad thing? Am I too naive? I'm told that I say 'sorry' too much, so much that it comes out insincere. And I'm sorry that it does, hah. But, I am sorry for the way things happen. I suppose I just have an apologetic nature.

The Penalty, or The Price.
But still, in the back of my mind,
I hate being so kind.
I will not give in, but I can't help feeling pinned.

I wrote that over a year ago, and yet it still applies to me now.

To continue with the essay, a super hero needs to be able to admit his or her mistakes. What if he was in the wrong place at the wrong time? If he ran, when he should've flown? If he acted, when he should've thought? He needs to be able to stand and say, "I'm sorry."

What makes a leader? Pt. 2

Work ethic. A leader has to have work ethic. Katherine could be a leader, because she works so much. But, she kind of guilts people into working. That's still getting people to work though. If a leader can't get their followers to work together, then how is anything going to get done? If a leader doesn't set the example and work, then who will?

As a super hero, there isn't really a call to get people to work together, I think. But the super hero must work tirelessly to protect and serve. Hmm.

What makes a leader? Pt 1.

I think one quality a leader has, is the ability to listen. His/her followers need to be able to talk to their leader. And the leader needs to listen to them, whether it's mundane or serious.

I'm going to be a leader. I feel it. It's strange, I've never felt this kind of tug before.

A hero.

There are days..

There are rare days when I wish I could disappear. Just move away and never make contact again. I wonder what people would say? What would they think?

I would like to have that kind of freedom. The freedom to pack a bag and drive off. To start a fresh new life in a new place. What would that be like?I'm going to do it one day.

I'm going to pack my bag in the middle of the night, and disappear. That'll be fun. I can imagine it now.

One night, a night like tonight or last night. Restless. Moody. Of course I have to be living on my own, because I'll never lose my family. I'll grab a bag, pack some clothes, and drive. Doesn't have to be far. Just to a different city. Start over. That seems so inviting.

Why does it always have to come down to you leaving, before I say I love you?
Why do I always use the words that cut the deepest? When I know how much it hurts you.Oh baby, why? Do I do that to you?

Artsy blog tonight. Sigh.

March 13th.

I love myself. And yet, I know that self-importance is one of my weaknesses. And yet, I know that I need to be somewhat more secure of my talents and skills. And yet, I'm scared of myself, and that maybe my fateful predictions can change things. What if they don't change things, but just predict them? I do believe in pre-ordained occurences. Pisces, snake, oracle. You are a mysterious one.

Is it so bad to want some recognition?

I honestly feel like I'm busting my balls out there. I'm sweating like crazy every day, staying in character constantly, and trying my hardest to focus. Can I just get a pat on the back? A 'Good job Bernal'? Is it seriously that hard? I mean, someone finally makes a fucking character choice, and she gets a gold star. What the fuck is that? Kris has had his character amazing since day one, and he hasn't gotten anything but tears today. You are going to make some enemies, Ms. Seney. And you won't be happy next year, when Hannah or Johnathan won't want to be in your shows. I don't blame them one bit. Although, they're both great people, so they'll still want to do shows, hopefully.

I'm going to talk to you two tomorrow. You need to stop being mean to me. I cried because you two were being bitches to me. Fucking shit. That sounds kind of whiney, but it was so random and out of the blue that it threw me off completely.

I don't know. I try to be nice, but sometimes I get these little events that kind of throw me off. I suppose it's good that I'm wondering if I'm being the most kind that I can be. I don't know. Fuck.

On a upper note, I've noticed that things between Michelle, Kayla, and me are definitely on the up-and-up. And I'm really happy for that. : D

When should you draw the line?

We've recently been discussing Eastern religions in my world geography class, and right now we're talking about Hinduism. The city of Varanasi is the holiest city in India, and the Ganges River, or Ganga ma[which means Mother Ganges], flows through it. Now the Ganges is a very holy river to them, it actually falls down from heaven. So pilgrims to the river bathe in it, drink from it, and bury dead in it. Of course, sewage is also dumped in it.

Now the prompt: When should the line between religion and science be drawn?

Obviously, this water is severly polluted. I think that the fecal matter count is 4,000 times above the accepted count. The people of Varanasi believe that Mother Ganges will clean herself, but some priests are also lobbying for government aid.

One of the arguments in class was, once the water is clean[if we can clean it at all], how do we keep it clean? Someone suggested changing the religion, to stop the people from burying dead and bathing in the water. Now, I don't necessarily agree with that. It's their belief! But that's what the problem is. It is very perpelexing indeed

In which we explore the boundaries between theatre gays and preppy straights.

For those of you who know me, you know that I am not a typical gay. I pass for straight quite often, and some even go so far as to refuse to believe it, at least for a while. But I am a theatre kid, and that alone sets me apart from other teens.

Everybody should know what a preppy straight is. Usually a football player, however, they can be associated with any sport. These guys aren't necessarily dicks, although tradition suggests it. Especially for theatre kids, and theatre gays. I've met some nice preppy straights, Javier is a perfect example of this. But, tradition also suggests that theatre gays and preppy straights do not hang out.

So, my brother, Daniel, is a preppy straight. He's not an exact preppy straight, and being a Pisces, acts differently around me then he does around other preppy straights. I'm sure all people do this to an extent, but Pisces are supposedly reknowned for this. My brother and I share alot of interests. Recently, Daniel and I played volleyball at the YMCA, and I would most definitly like to play some more with him. Daniel plays alot of sand volleyball with his friends. He's invited me to join him and his friends, but I'm fairly hesitant about this. As mentioned in above paragraphs, theatre gays and preppy straights are not supposed to mix well.

Now, here is the prompt.
Since life is not always directly parallel with stereotypes and tradition, should I abandon my fear and prejudices against these preppy straights and join them? Or is my brother naive for not seeing or understanding why I feel uncomfortable around his friends?

A good philosopher friend of mine suggests I just out right tell Daniel. "Just be like... 'your friends are very different from mine...and I respect that but you have to respect that I just don't feel comfortable around them.'" She also goes on to say, "Aside from the sexual thing, they are very different from you." But does she know this for sure? Once again, I am a Pisces, and I'm sure that somewhere inside of me is that inner prep. I was on the tennis team in 7th grade, and I did play street football in 8th and 9th grade outside of my house.

But I don't know.

So, this is why I'm hesitant to talk about my beliefs.

So, I had a talk with the guy just now, and we discussed, or more he told me his views on his beliefs. I didn't want to tell him about mine, because I can see where it would go. He would tell me that I'm wrong, and it's this way. See, I know because I've been arguing this since ninth grade.

In ninth grade, I was good friends with a strong Christian by the name of Lily. And every friday, on the band bus to the football games, Lily and I would argue about Christian theology. At the time I had only studied a little witchcraft, not becoming a witch until a little over two years later, but I still disagreed on alot of Christian ideas. I was agnostic, a good period of time for me, in which I learned alot about myself and spirituality. I would attempt to discuss some of these views with Lily, and at every attempt I would be faced with, "No. It's like this."

Tenth grade was relatively argument free, but Eleventh Grade wasn't. I was sort of dating-hanging out with this one guy, who had troubles with his sexuality, and was a fervent believer that Armageddon was going to come soon. The talk that I had tonight was almost word for word the ideas that had come from this eleventh grade guy.

Earlier today as well, I was talking to sympathetic people about a spell I had been asked to cast for someone. I immediately was told why I shouldn't do this spell, and how I would go about doing it if I was going to. This personally ticked me off, because these people were christians and I don't like people interefering with my spellwork, and I definitely don't like people interefering with my spirituality.

And people wonder why I'm hesitant to talk about my beliefs.

It's been a long time.

I've taken to writing everything in my journal now, so I seldom post anything online, unless I feel like being a blogger again. Oh and being emo too.

Last night I got home around 11 and I decided to take a walk with Lu, but I didn't leave till around 11:30. It was really nice with the fog every where, not at all creepy. I felt safe. And I cried. Not the sobbing, gasping kind, and not the silent, tears streaming down my face. This was earnest and heart-felt. I had also cried earlier in the car while I was waiting for Billy, but I sorta made myself that time because I was singing Bare, although this has to do with why I cried in the fog.

I talked out loud, because when I'm stressed it helps me to sort things through. And no matter what, all I came back to was that I... can't.. "Let go, no, I can't let go of you. You're holding me back without even trying to." And I would fade into song when the quotations came. Right now, while trying to think of what to type it happened again. I just.. I can't.. "I can't let go, I can't move off of the past. Without lifting a finger you're holding me back."

And I wondered. Maybe I don't like anyone this year, because I'm still stuck. Maybe when I'll actually be able to voice this story outloud to someone, someone who should hear it, maybe then I'll be released. Maybe I just can't let go, and never will.



Thanks for listening to my emoness.