You’ve Overstayed Your Welcome…

…Now get out and let me sleep.

 

-AmmGP.

“So, come pick me up…I’ve landed.”

There was an internal discrepancy within my high school crew team this past weekend at a regatta event. A few members were caught, by coaches in the club (not by regatta officials), smoking weed and instead of being pulled from the event as stated in the Code of Conduct, they were only lectured and allowed to participate in the race. I disagree with that. Regardless of my desire to see the team succeed as a whole, the rules need to be enforced to those who go against them. What are you going to do, though; the politics of it all? They’re going to smoke anyway and as long as the team was not caught and disqualified from the event by regatta officials then it’s fine to be kept within the team and dealt with by those in charge.

I mean, I would have handled it differently…but I’m not a coach for this particular club…so I can’t do anything. One member, who did not participate in this mishap, was frustrated yet claimed he was fine with his peers smoking until one of those “druggies” was seated above those who don’t smoke. I stated (and pardon lack of point connection and continuity as I copied the following from facebook chat),

“If the ‘druggy’ pulls their way into a seat…then they deserve it, weed or not. If they are not permitted to advance because of their involvement in smoking weed outside of crew, then that adds more politics to the concept of boat placement and the seats then aren’t given to those who physically deserve it. The Code of Conduct states that smoking will not be tolerated on club ground’s or during club events. I would have pulled the crew out of the regatta and risked pissing a bunch of people off instead of letting it slide. Say, the entire A-Boat smokes daily…but not on crew events or on crew time…and their smoking does not negatively impact their results or the results of others…then it’s fine (meaning the club cannot fully enforce punishment) as long as it is not while under the jurisdiction of the club. There is not anything the club can do about the fact they smoke…but the club should uphold the Code of Conduct that they stress is so important. If those who smoke while under said jurisdiction get caught, the entire crew should not race regardless of drug involvement or not. They should not replace the disobeying rowers with rowers in lower positions who did not break the rules because that is not the crew entered into the event at the regatta. Neither should they allow this behavior to go unpunished. If, even a single member in a certain crew is caught, the entire crew should be landed. If multiple crews were involved, each crew should be landed, regardless of if only two of eighteen members were caught breaking the rules. You row together, you die together.”

“The club should have pulled the boat(s) from the event and if it is across several crews, then they should land every crew caught/involved. As I mentioned before, if you replace the strong rowers in the A with weaker rowers (or the runners up)…it is not the true A boat and it misrepresents the team and that goes against the point of the competition. There is no need to make the live’s of the club’s competition easier by putting in slower rowers to represent a more elite crew. Yes, it’s a team sport and if one person fucks up, the entire crew should be punished, regardless of drug involvement or not. Crew is a team sport. Everyone has to be together, row together and bleed together. To continue with another example, if one rower misses a practice without an excused absence…the entire crew should be landed. Subbing in a rower damages the entire crew. It is counterproductive; it is pointless.”

“If rules are broken, the entire crew is at fault because each rower is a part of that crew. It’s all or none. In this situation, the A shouldn’t have rowed if A rowers were caught and the same goes for the B and so on. If that means the entire squad is landed…then so be it. Those who got caught breaking the rules should not have fucked up and smoked and it will teach them not to do it again because they’ll risk entire club involvement if they do. Period.”

“…Go Fuck Yourself…” (April 12, 2011)

All my progress; the counter set to zero. Back to square one…back to basics. I guess that’s all we ever have…the basics. What else is there? Well, regardless…I was doing, what I would consider to be, great until now. Until just a little over an hour ago. Burn in Hell, please. Just…leave this world. You don’t belong here…you belong in Hell…and even that’s too pure for you. I always know that I should avoid it, avoid the texts, the phone calls, the hugs…I know that with each passing character typed…I fall further into a hole that I have been stuck in for almost two years. He doesn’t even know what pain is. Maybe you should show him.

Gosh…I’m too deeply…in–

Take that bitterness you have developed and drown yourself in it. I’ll even help you…it will be the best thing I’ve done for the world…ever. I would get a medal, I would be hailed…for killing the beast I once loved. You monster…it’s like, Empire Strikes Back, and Luke just has enough force to pull his light saber out from the snow and cut you limb from limb. I’ve never once spoken ill of you until now. Just to be clear…it’s long over due.

12:45am on a Thursday. I want to sleep…my eyes have finally dried, too dry now though. I guess this is what you get for being a good person. “I know/knew you too well…” Fuck that. You don’t know shit. Kill yourself.

Congrats on getting all of the straws…and instead of leaving me even the smallest one…you taped them all together and pretend you drew the longest one…while leaving me with nothing. You’re selfish, you’re pointless…you’re nothing.

“Two roads diverge in a yellow wood…and sorry I could not travel both…” I’m cold, lethargic and trembling. I haven’t felt this low, this damaged…in months. Months and months…I hope the world is looking up for me…for once, fucking world. I hope its plates slip and you get your limbs caught in between.

“We’re terrified of one another…and terrified of what that means…” I just hope you’re happy…I really mean it. I hope you become the happiest boy in the world…and get all of it taken from you…it’s your turn to suffer. Avada Kedavra, bitch!

I make myself laugh. I guess there really is no one you can rely on except yourself, speaking generally, of course. Thank you for teaching me such a valuable life skill. Maybe I’ll actually use it one of these days. Nope, I won’t…because I still find myself waiting at the platform for your train to arrive…when I know it got derailed with no survivors. That makes me smile. No survivors…that includes you. Finally, a win. Thanks for taking one for the team…and by “thanks,” I really mean…”it’s about goddamn time.”

“…had a new dream, it was more like a nightmare…” I remember when I used to dream…a dream, I would say, is usually a positive association with something you desire…something you know will never come true but you want anyway…because it’s positive. With you…damn, were you ever a dream? Or were you just one long nightmare?

“…but you packed up the clothes in that bag every night…no one’s going to fix it…no one’s going to listen…no one understands…there’s no other witnesses, just us two…two half-families staring at you…two silver rings…two people talking inside your brain…two different voices coming out of your mouth…”

“Eighty-seven pounds…hundreds of thousands of hospital beds…and all of them empty but mine…” I’ll be in that same spot you left me, all those years ago…with my leg cast, propped with pillows…my arms, broken and bruised…and my heart bleeding out. Thanks for stopping by, even though you only stood outside the door. I saw you there…I was pretending to be asleep…but I could smell you…I could feel your hands around mine…and then I woke up…

I feel sorry for those newly associated with you. Hopefully they’ll learn to get out before you tear them apart with your inability to give a fuck about actual people. It’s all about you…it always has been…and it will never be anything more than that…you’ll never be anything more of that. Die.

Two more songs in this album before I end this post…and maybe I’ll sleep. I wonder what sleep even means at this point…do you know? You didn’t hear me? I’ll just repeat and tell you what you want to hear…now take that straw you have and shove it. I’m sure you’d enjoy that, actually…scratch that. Just put a bag around your head.

You’re leaving the next step to me? What next step? Well, thanks for the effort…Know, kid, the only reason I asked for you to put in more than your best effort…is because your best isn’t good enough. Your best is the equivalent of a paraplegic jumping off a cliff. They can’t jump…only fall…much like you…you only fall…and if you do manage a jump…it’s into someone’s arms to pull them down with you. Duct tape a plastic bag around your neck. Breathe a lot…see what happens…I’m sure you’ll enjoy it…try it sometime.

1:19am. Writing takes me a while, plus I’m listening to music…slightly distracted. I just made an executive decision. I’m not listening to you…and I’m going to take her from you…and you’re going to watch it happen…watch the events unfold…and I’ll just stand there, laughing…because I’ve had her all along. She deserves better. You deserve your previous one. At least the girl who looked like a horse was deserving of you…and you, being the jockey, fit perfectly. Don’t worry…I know your secret…but I won’t tell anyone else…I promise. I’m a good person…and you’re shit compared to the scum of the earth.

I never thought I would think this. I’ve never felt this way. I’ve never wanted something bad to happen to another individual…seriously. This time, I mean it. The Golden Gate Bridge is supposed to be painless…need a plane ticket? I’ll help you out. First class, even…one way, of course. You wouldn’t be coming back. You wouldn’t be welcome back. You wouldn’t be welcome back…

I hate you. I do…and that’s just as devastating on me as our past. Do yourself a favor…come clean…before everyone else does it for you.

 

Regards,

 

-AmmGP.

“…Like Monkeys Suddenly Not Liking Bananas.”

An obligation from Pete to write. It’s currently 2:36am on Thursday, October 20th, and I am sitting at my desk looking out at the dark parking lot in front of my dormitory. It’s vacant of people yet full of cars. Lots are interesting. More so than a warehouse or another place filled with inanimates. The relationship between human and automobile is a sad one. Like everything else in our lives, cars patiently wait until we need them. We neglect, we use, we abandon and retire, we rekindle, we smother, abuse, misplace and mistreat our cars. The relationship is often very one-sided. Mile after mile, hill after hill, rotation after rotation…and we give back by treating it to fresh gasoline and “pimping it out” with lights and stuff. It’s like…our parents dressing us the way they want to with no consideration of our self-image. As for gasoline, we pull up to the pump. Imagine the car behaving similarly to a schnauzer arriving at a park. Then we hit that yellow 87; Regular. Instead of a Frisbee for fetch, we brought a leash, only for it to be secured to the foot of a bench so we could quietly read a book. To make matters worse, we feel the need to reprimand the pooch as he attempts to seek attention in the eyes of the passersby. It’s like getting somebody socks for Christmas. “I only care about you a whole regular gasoline worth.” Ass.

Back to the lot. Each car in the lot adds to that lot’s personality. So, right now…the lot is full of cars but vacant of people…and it’s tragic. I can’t say I fully understand it and I know I cannot elaborate on this thought, maybe because I’m tired, but there is something about full parking lots with no people that frightens me. An empty lot appears to be a waste of space yet, at the same time, you can’t help but sympathize with the poor slab of concrete and blacktop. On the other hand, a lot that’s full is dirty and reeks of the odorless carbon monoxide; CO. Though, it’s full. It’s obviously a popular one, confident enough to provide a temporary home for the cars it contains. Even if it’s half full/empty (I don’t discriminate, ha!) the cars are always towards the front and you wonder what’s so wrong with the back that no one parks there? It’s like a beautiful girl with an ugly nose. A portion is very appealing but in the end…you’d rather pay the towing/impound charges instead of settling with the nose.

I’ve been feeling especially down lately. I feel weird. I feel let down, like a failed expectation. “I feel…Cold,” weirdly numb (which I feel needs a ‘k’ before it; ‘knumb’). It’s like…blowing the wrapper off of straws. Most times…the paper flies across the room in a perfectly straight line. The other times…the air breaks through the side in a hiss…and the paper remains…and you just stare…because there is nothing more disappointing…and you wish you had gently ripped off an end…instead of slamming it down on the table.

I seldom enjoy thinking of the past…and I almost always think of it. Mr. Yusko, my sixth and seventh grade band director would always use the image of “swimming in molasses” when we were under tempo or lethargic. What if I’m swimming in a sea of molasses? Tossed to the side by waves of thick, thick full-flavor. I…just…can’t…get out…and it sucks, it really does. I let myself down and I don’t have the slightest idea why. What did I do? Kiddo, catch your breath before you drown. Fuck.

I had an interesting, though short-lived, conversation last night with an individual who I hold in high regards. To summarize, it was about finding God, finding yourself and finding the love in the world…and realizing its potential…but knowing that potential is immeasurable…and impossible to meet.

“[Trying to comprehend love] would be like explaining to an ant how a TV works.” I agree. Our conversation was cut short, so this is me responding to that message: Last year I wrote a paper that was centered on the idea of fear. (In actuality, it focused on fear’s ability to persuade sexual orientation but the key concepts were clear. Within my work I mentioned love, being the polar end of the spectrum. I loosely thought of the film Donnie Darko, which, if you have yet to see it, wait and we shall watch it together. If you have or even for the sake of elaborating on my point, there is a man by the name of Jim Cunningham (Patrick Swayze), a motivational speaker who makes a living inspiring others of this concept of the Love – Fear Spectrum whereas Love is a part of the positive energy spectrum and Fear, the negative energy spectrum respectively. Cunningham explains that every behavior, dilemma and situation can be categorized in one of these two groups that he calls “The Lifeline.” Beth Grant’s character, Kitty Farmer, a teacher at Donnie’s school, is a subscriber to Cunningham’s ploy. During an in-class activity, Kitty hands each student a card faced with a character dilemma and requests them to be placed somewhere upon the spectrum. Donnie receives: “Ling Ling finds a wallet on the ground filled with money. She takes the wallet to the address on the driver’s license but keeps the money inside the wallet.” So, fear or love? Donnie responds with, “you can’t just lump things into two categories. Things aren’t that simple.” To which Kitty replies, “the Lifeline is divided that way…Fear and love are the deepest of human emotion.” Donnie attempts to explain how there are other things to be considered, “…like the entire spectrum of human emotion!”

Fact of the matter is simple, yes, many would consider fear and love to be exactly that; the deepest human emotions. However, each is divided into hundreds and thousands of subgroups that is infinitely great. This implies the potential manifestation of an infinitely great emotional-concept hierarchy. Elaborating, I believe there might just be an infinite number of emotional concepts that supersede both love and fear. Due to our inability to comprehend both to a reasonable degree, who is to say that there aren’t other concepts that we cannot even remotely fathom. In my essay, I started with the concept of trust; what it is and how it is related to everyday life. I noted how fear is directly associated to trust and that fear is essentially a lack of trust in any given circumstance.

“Fear is directly attributed to trust, or lack thereof. When an individual doubts the reliability of a circumstance, they fall prey to the negative disassociation of trust. The body physically responds to the uncertainty of an expected or unexpected situation, known as a “stress stimulus.” However, when an individual is in a situation that they have no expectations for, the sense of fear is intensified. This is because if there is no expectation, there is no reason to be afraid due to a lack of negative association with the event. When there is an expectation, and that expectation is thought or proven to be incorrect, the comfort in the trust dissipates, resulting in a more intense fear.”

I then continued to incorporate experience, another debated spectrum-head, with the example of Xenophobia, the fear of strangers or individuals foreign to the norm: “Fear is caused by a lack of trust. As previously stated, when an individual is unable to trust their expectations, or [when they lose] confidence in their expectations, fear is the result. [A fear (Xenophobia)] that developed due to a failing expectation at a younger age is said to be less extreme than [the same fear] developed by the same event in an adult…It is said that the expectation of many supersedes the expectation of a few. The ‘normal’ expectation, no fear of strangers, versus the ‘abnormal’ expectation, fear of strangers, has more of an impact when disrupted. Elaborating, the adult had lived with the expectation that is the ‘norm’ of society for a longer period of time before facing expectation disruption. Thus, when the adult’s expectation is not met, he/she has the potential to fall into a more intense form of the phobia than the child, who had the ‘norm’ expectation for a shorter time…”

Thus, expectation is caused by a reoccurring experience in which trust is placed. Thus, fear can disrupt expectation once the expectation is not satisfied. Both fear and expectation tie into trust and I believe trust to be beyond both fear and love on both ends. The concept is immortal and it is the key factor for everything we do. We place trust, therefore we experience, therefore we fear…and love…well, love is the absence of fear. It’s almost like…love isn’t real. There is no love. There is only fear…or lack thereof.

Continuing further, going on what you said, and I hope you don’t mind my quoting you:

“…and within this love there is hope and goodness and gentleness and kindness and forgiveness and compassion and peace…even now, as hate and intolerance and apathy and greed and pain rear their ugly head[s] at the gates of humanity, do not despair, the misery upon us is but the passing of these things; they gather for they know their time is short…but they have already lost, overcome by love…”

You’re right. I cannot agree more that misery is the passing of all of those negative concepts you mentioned. Take it one step further, now. The passing of what? The passing of time associated with hate, intolerance, apathy, greed and pain? Yes, my young friend. The passing of time. Time, linear or cyclic, is universally relative. Of course, time is measurable. Yet at the same time, we, as organic creatures, interpret time differently. How time passes for one individual may not be the same as another. Think about it. Time is possessive. We can have it, we can hold it, we can skip it, we can own it. It is ours. Love, the same thing. We can have it, cherish it and hold it dear. To some, time is a straight line. Those individuals live day by day and as time passes, so do they. They wake up, they go about their day, they sleep. An hour passes. Did it feel like an hour? What does an hour feel like? We determine that each and every single day. We determine whether or not to participate in that passage of time. We invest a certain amount of effort that varies depending on what we are currently involved with. Thus, a day is just another day and the view of time may seem uncontrollably long or short. This is where misery finds its powerful grip on humanity. The fear of a slow passage of time. This fear debilitates an individuals perception of time, making the misery feel like forever. What you interpret as a short-lived bout of negativity (or negative energy) may not be the same as anyone else. Hell, I will even argue that time is as unique to each individual as fingerprints. Having been said, I would edit our previous definition of misery. Misery is the fear of a permanently slow passage of time. If time passed quickly through misery, well, there wouldn’t be misery at all, right? So, as I mentioned, some view time in a straight line; a linear passage. Time is a measurement and nothing more. However, I would like to believe that there are those who invest more. Time is there to be taken advantage of and I believe there are some who do exactly that.

Think about dreams. I’m a subscriber to Sigmund Freud’s Theory of the Unconsciousness. While we sleep, we dream. What could seem like an entire day is physically created and reviewed in the span of seconds. Weeks pass by in minutes and years flash, quite literally, before our very eyes. Our unconscious is casting images of our efforts, both actual and potential, in an attempt to utilize time better than we believe to be possible in the waking world. A dream is just another interpretation on the passage of time. Day dreams are the same; a cyclical time recall. What if we grasped time…consciously grasped time, and manipulated it to seem like forever during those moments we want to cherish forever? What if we manipulated time to rush through those moments of misery? Once again, without fear of a permanent institution of slow time passage there would be no misery. This way, we could live in our positive experiences with no depression, disappointment or negative associations whatsoever. This way, when we decide to continue past an event, we can relive it fully in memory at a time of our choosing. I mean, the only reason we forget is because we were unable to fully grasp all of the information administered due to that moment “uncontrollably” slipping into an incomplete past. We could live forever in the pleasures of life.

“Then comes life everlasting.” I like the sound of that…and before I forget to mention, do you remember saying the title of this post? It was years ago, I would be shocked if you even knew the relation.

1:00pm, now. A fair amount of time has passed since I started this post, though I just wrote the majority of this now and not when I started hours ago. It’s midday, meaning I don’t feel as down as I do at night. Thus far, today has been alright, I guess. Biology lab was short and uneventful, Personality Psychology was unappealing and so I wanted to finish this post because I have been thinking of that conversation we left unfinished. I wanted to respond.

I’m listening to My Chemical Romance’s The Black Parade album, by the way. Enjoy your Thursday.

-AmmGP.

Seventy-Seven Strangers (Plus One).

2:54am. There it is. Listening to Ellie Goulding. I’m in awe of, not only this girl’s talent, but of her acceptance amongst society. You cannot dislike her. She’s like…the Zooey Deschanel of the singing world. Perfection.

It’s a Saturday, and I’m sorry I have neglected you so. My dearest apologizes, my sweet, sweet lovely. I’m so goddamn sorry. “Breathe in deep…long and deep.” -Anthony Kiedis. And so I did.

An interesting start, with two lines of three. I think a similar trend will be a continuous for the remainder of this post. Today was uneventful, yet even more so than most. I spent quality time with an individual who I hold a vast amount of respect for.

I will admit, it was “constructively educational” time; time well spent is time enough though, right? Pete Strangers, my suitemate, and I spent time editing an essay he had written for an African-American studies class here at UB.

His roommate, “Wilhelm,” was out on the town…so we used the temporary disappearance and removal of a commonly expected 7:00pm curfew to our advantage…with quality discussion. Wilhelm is nice enough, I guess. I guess. I mean…I guess.

Needless to say, Pete’s essay was fine without assistance. Wait, my sister once said, “you should never be fine, kiddo. ‘Fine’ is never good enough. Not for you, little bro,” in response to my saying she looked “fine,” when asked.

Needless to say, Pete’s essay was exactly what I expected from him. Quality work. Period. I enjoy conversing with other academics, regardless of beliefs and I just so happen to find the lifestyle of Pete to be extraordinary.

I seldom believe in recreation or the ability for oneself to change for the better…but I’m inspired by Pete, I really am. Inspired and honored to have him as a friend. I feel like I lucked out, I really do.

I changed gears from Ellie Goulding, Iron and Wine, and The Format…to Ownage Live Prank Calls. This satellite radio announcer prank calls people with different personas. It’s great fun.

I enjoy people who have the ability to mask their voices so well that they appear to sound like another individual. It interests me, it really does. I would do anything to be talented.

Recently, more so than usual, I have missed playing the clarinet in band. I thought of joining UB’s concert band but I cannot differentiate whether or not if it was a serious connotation or not. I miss being “the best” at something. Being first chair was great for my ego.

Nevertheless, I did enjoy it…maybe more than the rest. I remember practicing the solo in Morning, Noon and Night in Vienna by Franz Von Suppé. I remember Vesuvius, getting our conductor, K, to purchase the score by asking him everyday.

I remember asking him to buy Summer Dances composed by one of my favorites, Brian Balmages. He did. I miss that. I miss Ellipsis. The piece we played in sixth grade…or Knights…something.

Remember the theme to Forrest Gump and Hungarian March?  Both pieces I never played but remember because I loved them so. The theme to Chicken Run and Into the Storm, Ireland: Of Legend and Lore by Robert W. Smith…By the Rivers of Babylon, too.

I have to say, my all time favorite piece we ever played was Into the Joy of Spring by James Swearingen…or Fate of the Gods by Steven Reineke. Though, I must say, I seldom disliked a piece. Especially…what’s it called? S…something. I cannot recall. Such beauty. GOT IT! Shenandoah.

I feel like it would be beneficial for me to play clarinet again. We’ll see. Regardless, I miss a lot from my high school years. I know I’ve mentioned this and all…but is that wrong? I feel like I’m supposed to dismiss high school…and disregard it as an enjoyable part of my life.

I don’t know if I can do that, not going to lie. Also, speaking of not lying…I’m getting more and more intoxicated as I write this…so pardon any incoherencies. I’m feeling nostalgic.

I’m not listening to Footloose’s Never. I always think of Hot Rod when I think of this song. I often imagine myself being able to do crazy jumps and flips like in that movie. I also want super powers…

I really need to pee. I feel weird saying that. I think it’s the “ee,” but I feel fine saying “feel.” I don’t know…I guess “pee” seems childish, “piss” is derogative (which Google Chrome does not recognize as a word), and “urinate” is too…not cool.

Additionally, “…need to use the rest/bathroom” makes it sound like a potential bowel movement…and I hate that implication. There’s something dirty about that act. Stop. Leave it, kiddo. It’s fine to move on.

Right Here, Right Now by Fatboy Slim, now. Actually, it just ended. I was late at announcing it. Fuck it, back to Ellie Goulding. Damn, Samual J. McCracken. Got me hooked. “You shine me when I’m alone…”

I’m going to head out soon, though I do enjoy writing…even if it’s about nothing specific. I also enjoy watching my roommate, Matt, dance to the music I play. It makes me smile. I miss smiling.

Coincidentally, I hate when I don’t have a set playlist…and the current song I’m listening to is ending…I have to look through every one of my songs before the current song ends…so I don’t have that silence between music selections. I feel like life is full of…”picking the next song before the current one is even over.” I hate that…I hate that so much. You broke your two line sequence, kiddo. Fuck it.

Sweetest dreams.

-AmmGP.

2:45am on a Saturday Morning.

     I started a post this morning while waiting for class but it deleted itself. I got up at 8:00am, got to my 9:00am class at 9:06am. The door to the room was closed…and so I turned around and left. I couldn’t stand the thought of walking into the room and seeing everyone’s incriminating eyes. Or, even worse…trying to open the door, it being locked…and forcing someone from the inside to open it for me. So, I left. I hate that feeling.
     I wrote about waiting for classes, about how some Asian kid said, “laters” and not “later,” which evolved into a rant about how many “laters” (the plural form of “later”) it takes to successfully say goodbye…I wrote about other things that I sadly do not remember. Sorry.
     I’m now watching Family Guy with my roommate, Matt. I have a feeling he is going to ask me to turn off the tv soon. I hate that…because I have trouble sleeping without it. Don’t get me wrong, Matt is great and I’m really happy that he is my roommate, but I would much rather be alone…at least while falling asleep. I have no issue turning off the tv…being quiet or anything…but I feel bad when I make even the slightest, accidental sound that wakes him up. For example, I hung posters. Our building is brand new and the paint is soft so we are required to hang everything with blue painter’s tape only. Needless to say, it does not hold well…so, in the middle of the night…two posters fell. It made a noise, sure. He woke up. I felt awful. I hate things like that. I hate them so much.
     Ah, he put his phone down. Under the covers…fuck. I have a feeling I will be up for a while. I went on an event with the Academies today. In case I have yet to mention the Undergraduate Academies, it is a not-for-profit organization here at the University at Buffalo that strives for the excellence of everyone involved. They administer different events in every subject area that are geared toward gathering, not only knowledge, but experience relating to a particular field of study. Today, members who enrolled for this program took a trip down to UB’s beautiful downtown campus. Here, we entered the Center for Excellence, a life-science research facility with several amazing characteristics. We received a full tour, information sessions with Q&A after and a potential area to volunteer/gain a fellowship. It was a great experience and I am glad I went.
     However, with it being 3:16am, I must try and get some sleep. My eyes are dry…that might help.

Sweet Dreams,

-AmmGP.

Linen & Sky Febreze is the Best Scent of Febreze.

“Wakin’ up at the start of the end of the world.” I, apparently (get it?), sleep with my jaw locked closed, which potentially means I grind my teeth. Bruxism. Does that mean I’m a Bruxist? I don’t know, either way, the right side of my jaw hurts at the joint. It is better than it has been, but still…I’m that uptight, eh? I found a pen today that I had in my desk which displays, with each click, different signs of Alcohol Poisoning. Passing out, *click* irregular breathing, *click* confusion, *click* pale skin, *click* vomiting, *click* seizures. Now you know. You’re welcome.

I’ve had some time to get to know my roommate a little better. He’s a good kid and doesn’t seem to get too offended with my ignorant sense of humor, so it works for now. Getting to know the people on my floor a little better, too. With a few exceptions, they’re all cool. Music is all over the place right now. Boyce Avenue, MUSE, Deadmau5, The Fray, etc…I keep spraying Febreze, because it smells so good and this room has no smell to it. It doesn’t smell like anything yet, not even new building, or dirty bed sheets, or teenage boys, or anything…I like when things smell nice because that, coincidentally, is nice. There’s something calming, personable and safe about a fresh smelling room.

I think about this often: maternally, you don’t have a child when it severely worsens a pre-existing condition that permanently disables you…and paternally, you don’t walk out when you were an influencing decision for that child being born. It’s like taking someone’s body away to give yourself an additional five years of false happiness and two years of remorse…followed by a lifetime of pain for those left behind. Not to mention, the child eventually grew up into a human being, not that he wasn’t to begin with. It’s alright, though. I would have forgotten him, too. How selfish…and I resent you for this.

 

-AmmGP.