Past 7am now. We're driving in the parking lot. The sun is hazily shining through the low and thick clouds, and the Civic Center stands tall on this day. I see Brittany Dressel leaving her car. She waved at me, do I know her? Anyway, I step out, gown and cap at-the-ready, and walk towards the entrance to the Civic Center.
I see people, and I see Jacob. The last person I preferably wanted to see in the morning. A director of some sort, maybe security, tells me and the rest to follow those going down the ramp to my right. We enter, and security, made up of just Mr. Reeve, stops to secure phones and stuff. "It's just a camera, Mr. Reeve... (just let me in, already...) Anyway, we're in... and it is ghastly cold! Jacob and I continue in. He apologized for the issue with the camping trip. I was okay with it, that was all I needed... but I really just wanted to know why he was mad at me in the first place. Eh, it doesn't matter. This is our time, like everyone was saying.
The crowd continued. Faces I knew, continued to come into this immense open place, under all the seats and bleachers upstairs in the stadium. And this camera... gah, I hate this camera. This was gonna be the last time I'll ever see most of these people, and I got a crappy camera to make of it all. And parents are coming in through here? Really? Hmm... maybe my parents can do the same, and find a better spot for themselves. Mrs. Young, who somehow got me through her Chemistry class; Mr. Meitin, who has such a Jerry Sienfeld-charisma; Mrs. Andrews, who saved my life with college; and so many others. By the end of much talk and hanging, we had an hour to go and I had nothing to do.
Eventually, we're called up by the signs from yesterday's practice graduation. Just like yesterday; no Veronica Garcia-whoever infront, so leave an empty seat. Ciera and Brian to my left, and small talk, sweet talk. Camera talk, too. God, I hate this camera... alright, it's about to begin.
The teachers and faculty lead the way, and now it's as if the graduates are all alone with no leader. Let's not screw this up. One after the other, orderly as yesterday, a pair at a time... then my row follows the procession. We make it to the small hallway between the room we were in, and the stadium. Slowly, we go. Slowly, I follow the procession out of the two curtains, Kieran Edmonds to my right. "You got this?", I ask. We stop, wait for those two to cross that blue tape, and then we go, and...
Oh, Jesus.
There are bodies, and eyes, eyes everywhere, just, just looking at us. Oh my God, this is really happening. I see a blue floor, I see teachers in black gowns, folding seats with the white coverings over the seats, and I hear whistles and name shouts, and the piano lady, playing that same tune I heard in last year's graduation... only I'm not a spectato-
Alright, no, focus... 4th row. Follow her. Left. Save spot for Veronica. Smile. Walk. Don't look around, eyes straight. Saved.
Oh, shit, all the people. All the people...
Keep your cool. Breath. Oh my God, my legs are shaking. Breath! Keep your neck straight, don't stretch! Oh, man, this procession goes on forever... ew, God, Mrs. Collins, right to my left... gah, this tassel is fucking with me. Stay straight! Turn it abit towards the edge. Alright, that work... alright, make sure the cap is straight... I just heard my name being called from my mother... behind me? I told them of spots right across from my row... probably the cheap bastards who reserved spots and refuse any leeway like a pack of ravening dogs.
One pair after the other, after the other, after the other... alright, it's over... now to stay standing, and take off our caps for the Pledge of Allegiance. I haven't done the Pledge in months. Why am I doing it now? Maybe because of a freedom to graduate. Maybe... hmm, not everybody took their caps off? Am I doing something wrong?
JROTC Color Guard. The entire stadium is silent. Not a sound, maybe a whisper. Do these guys graduate today, like us?
The Columbia County BOE looks real happy to be here. Especially District 3, oh, looked like he was having a ball being here.
Emily Bordon... HA! She freezes in the middle of her speech twice. I find it funny. It's like seeing a spoiled blonde who probably got honors cheaply screw up her introduction... oh, wait!
Mr. Barney...
"Yeah... Mr. Barney. He does AP, and regular World History. Oh, he's one of the best. And I mean, I never had him before. But I talk to him like he is one of my teachers, he's such a welcoming guy. It's one of those people, where you never had the person for a teacher, yet they can be such a good friend like that... that's special, dad, that's, he deserved to speak... and yeah, on holidays, he does wear a kilt."
Yeah, he really is getting old. He has seen alot, I guess. Maybe that explains why he's probably such a good teacher. Because he knows what he's talking about. Man, I'm gonna miss that guy. Good speech.
And a song... and a guitar... and the same ol' two-stringed tune, whatever... meh. I mean, the song's good, but... meh, traditions like that...
Alright, now it's onto Salutatorian and Valedictorian peopl-
WOW, man! You mentioned "caffine in the morning"... this morning, man? Shit. He looked like when I presented my practice presentation for my Senior Project. Not really a great feeling. And all I heard was the same thing from his speech, over and over. Gah, these traditions are really getting redundant...
Alright, Josh. Had you for British Lit. with Mrs. Collins. You're a Christian guy. Hardcore... eh, it was a nice speech. Caught on with it nicely. Liked it, man.
It's time.
Anxiety. Blood pressure, rising. Row #1... it's starting... Row #2... clap, man, these are your friends... Row #3... clap some more... thumbs up, good luck, Brian... Mrs. Hancock counting... 3, 2, 1... Row #4 rises, I'm standing. I turn my body to my right. There's a long line, a very long line. But it was going on so fast... Mrs. Simons... we're getting closer... she's conveniently right to my left... "Won't have to deal with me again, Mrs. Simons." "You're right... An-thony, is gone."... Oh, my God, we're close.
The stairs. They're black, metallic, clanking... a long piece of duct tape to stop us again... a small mat to allign our feet for the photographer to our right. One at a time... aligned, straight. Camera. -click-
'1812 Overture, Finale'. Remember, in your head, remember. It slowly comes. Clap for Haley. The strong trumpets, as I take heavy steps on these stairs... the violins, the trumpets... I'm itching closer. Closer...
I'm on the stage. Stop. Wait... wait...
"Anthony Joseph-Agnew...
I take the walk. The walk of 12 years, the handshakes of 12 years, the superintendent of 12 years, the diploma case of one lifetime, the Board of Education of Columbia County, 5 years. "Thank you" and "Thank you very much", over and over, handshake, handshake. And now the final picture. Hold it right, hold it proud... the trumpets, the bombardments, the climax... and, scene.
And now for all the rest... There were not so many celebrations and wooh-wahs' for many of the people I know deserve it. But interestingly, not for many of the others and prep stereotypes.
Lindsay. Gah, I love her.
"TOGO!" Love that guy...
And Nolan. He's been in my path since my first day at Evans Middle. He's got Honors, of course. Hope he does well.
And Jamie... Oh my God, the sonovabitch is graduating. Glad for that guy, actually. People will surprise you.
And Elijah. And Edmond. And Taylor Todd. I've seen him change these 5 years I've known him... Now Drew. And Alexis... Sports Spectrum memory. Oh, man... and now the last graduate.
The crowd is estatic. Debani just stands there and lets the crowd suck us all up... the tassel. It's time.
Right hand.
Tassel, to my left.
12 years.
... oh, fine... the Alma Mater... that almost everybody mumbled and blah... and now, caps are everywhere. I think I flinged mine. It went somewhere around Row #1 to the right. I hope I get it back.
The world exploded around me. It was a Rapture, alright...
- Ant
ENTRY SEARCH
May 21, 2011
May 2, 2011
May 2nd, 2011
- We're having a sub today for Java Programming. She's limited our work significantly so that it's nothing bug utter silence for the day. If the class can't program our LEGO bots, or listen to music/play games...
Then what in the hell are we suppose to do?!?...
40 minute left in school, what am I suppose to do in this class when I can't do anything right now? Blog, maybe? I'm not in the spirit completely (though, I could finish my entry on Bin Laden from last night...)... seriously, no talk, no music, no programming, nothing... eh, crap...
- Things to do tonight:
1) Update to Firefox 4. (Used it in the Media Center for 4th just some minutes ago; it is fantastic)
2) Finish blog entry on Bin Laden.
3) Come up with idea for thisibelieve.org essay.
4) Recycle poem papers in binder (the speech went out perfect, thank God)
5) Study for Economics test (no point in it, though. If I fail, I know it won't be my fault. I can say so many things about Mr. Bailie... but above anything, he should not teach. He can't teach. Oh, he can teach us how to be creepy, disturbing, perverted kissasses... but he can't teach Economics for shit. I'm more than likely gonna get a below-average score on my EOCT, with all the studying I may do these days... and for all I know, I may be held back by his pissoff class and not graduate or go to college on-time... I just hope he loses his job someday. That sonovabitch can't teach, above anything in life...
God, I have so much time on my hands right now... I think I'll go to see if I can bring my Lit book to my locker...
- Ant
Then what in the hell are we suppose to do?!?...
40 minute left in school, what am I suppose to do in this class when I can't do anything right now? Blog, maybe? I'm not in the spirit completely (though, I could finish my entry on Bin Laden from last night...)... seriously, no talk, no music, no programming, nothing... eh, crap...
- Things to do tonight:
1) Update to Firefox 4. (Used it in the Media Center for 4th just some minutes ago; it is fantastic)
2) Finish blog entry on Bin Laden.
3) Come up with idea for thisibelieve.org essay.
4) Recycle poem papers in binder (the speech went out perfect, thank God)
5) Study for Economics test (no point in it, though. If I fail, I know it won't be my fault. I can say so many things about Mr. Bailie... but above anything, he should not teach. He can't teach. Oh, he can teach us how to be creepy, disturbing, perverted kissasses... but he can't teach Economics for shit. I'm more than likely gonna get a below-average score on my EOCT, with all the studying I may do these days... and for all I know, I may be held back by his pissoff class and not graduate or go to college on-time... I just hope he loses his job someday. That sonovabitch can't teach, above anything in life...
God, I have so much time on my hands right now... I think I'll go to see if I can bring my Lit book to my locker...
- Ant
Apr 25, 2011
Ramble, ramble, nom-nom-nom
Nothing will fall to place, and be under your control. Not for you, nor for anybody ever in this life. Even if it's perfect, it won't last, despite fate and chance. Life is a business cycle. There will be spikes, depressions, and moments were you don't know what to do... you don't know what to do, you feel hopeless, what can you do?
If you feel down about something, nobody will help you up, despite almost everyone helping you up. There's only one person in the world that can help you. One person, one being, one entity, one creature, and it's not a worth of a God.
It's you.
You want something, fight for it. Hold on to what is yours, because somebody may want it. You want results, be a result. You want to be a name and not just any number, it's not going to happen. Your dreams and imagination and beauty won't save you enough for reality. Reality is, times are tough. People are crazy. The world wants something to mooch over. The least you can do, but the most you can do, is make sure every second isn't your dullest. Emotion and feeling. Compassion and freedom. Those are the words you're looking for. You may live and die and maybe go to heaven, and there won't ever be a point to making each day like it was your last, but that means you don't deserve to go to heaven in the first place.
One life, is all you have. Will you slouch there and play your video games and continuously try to get what you can't, because you're unwilling to change? You are the reason for your world. You were given a brain, a possibility at brilliance, an advantage to change everything... or not... but you are here. Welcome to reality. It's not beautiful, but that's where you come in.Be careful, ride hard, ride strong, don't stop, but just love it all. To love and be loved, is to be a name.
- Ant
If you feel down about something, nobody will help you up, despite almost everyone helping you up. There's only one person in the world that can help you. One person, one being, one entity, one creature, and it's not a worth of a God.
It's you.
You want something, fight for it. Hold on to what is yours, because somebody may want it. You want results, be a result. You want to be a name and not just any number, it's not going to happen. Your dreams and imagination and beauty won't save you enough for reality. Reality is, times are tough. People are crazy. The world wants something to mooch over. The least you can do, but the most you can do, is make sure every second isn't your dullest. Emotion and feeling. Compassion and freedom. Those are the words you're looking for. You may live and die and maybe go to heaven, and there won't ever be a point to making each day like it was your last, but that means you don't deserve to go to heaven in the first place.
One life, is all you have. Will you slouch there and play your video games and continuously try to get what you can't, because you're unwilling to change? You are the reason for your world. You were given a brain, a possibility at brilliance, an advantage to change everything... or not... but you are here. Welcome to reality. It's not beautiful, but that's where you come in.Be careful, ride hard, ride strong, don't stop, but just love it all. To love and be loved, is to be a name.
- Ant
Apr 24, 2011
My 18th birthday
18 years. Yet it feels like a lifetime.
I could say it started on the first part of the week, instead of my actual birthday on Friday. I was selected for the inFAMOUS 2 beta, or how much I'm enjoying working on this play as crew, or how this would probably be a long week of anticipation for my birthday. Either way, the rest of this week was something to write about.
For starters, to my surprise, I recieved a code to the inFAMOUS 2 beta. The beta keys were sent about a week ago, I thought it would be the end, but it's as if... the last ticket, for me... I was left jumping. Oh, the joy, oh, the rush! Yeah, sure, that same night Mary Scheirer was tempting everyone with her letter from SCAD, people were talking about advances in their lives, being accepted to colleges... for a moment, I lost care. All that mattered was that I was selected by a generous game company to test the exclusive online beta for the fantastic and upcoming inFAMOUS 2. But that was for a moment...
Left and right, my friends from schools abroad were being accepted to colleges? And I'm just sitting where I am. For the past few weeks, I have been going over my college info, and so much was missing before an acceptance could be made. I've been almost pestering ASU admission about my missing documents, because those documents were sent. I did send my information, my SAT scores, my Verification of Lawful Presence, my Immunization Form, I did everything! How was I not being accepted?!? This is Augusta State University. This shouldn't have to be so difficult! I felt sorry for pestering, but there had to be some problem. This week, after another email telling me they looked but still couldn't find any of those forms, I confronted my dad again, and he actually insisted on searching his make-shift office to show me he sent it.
He never did. Over a month and a half, and I was about ready to explode at ASU, when my dad realized he never sent that envelope. I should've expected this, but when I asked him again this week whether he actually sent all the information... he searches around, an interruption, and shows me the envelope, with the ASU address printed on the familiar household envelope as I look over my college stats on this laptop... and tells me it was buried under bills. This rush, I was ready to break his neck, in so many ways... in fact, the thought still lurches in me as I type this... again, I should have expected this from him, I trusted him with this... what in God's name... I exploded at him like I've never exploded at anyone before in my life. I wanted to mutilate him. For putting me through this, for putting my future at risk, under a desk of his life: bills. A life that irritates the living hell out of me. Even if it was for a month or so, I lost my patience, energy, with this meaningless problem. That moment broke it.
The next day, as I could check my merged email via Microsoft Outlook on our school computers, I emailed both admission recruiters, who've stuck with me since my application process, a subtle apology and explanation. My dad would personally send-in the forms to the college that day. That same night, I received a reply from one of the admission recruiters, the one who usually comes to our school and sets a "college recruitment booth", understood, and introduced me by his casual name, Ryan, and insisted we should hang out as he implied my acceptance to ASU. The next morning, a Thursday, I look at my myASU, and indeed, I've been accepted to Augusta State University. Again, ASU isn't a college for me to jump over... at least, maybe not yet; don't even want to jump about college... but it's a start, somewhere. My parents bring in good news for the day, don't remember what, though, but I toss in my good news, and... yeah. ASU.
What also began this week, or maybe weeks before, was working with crew for our class presentation of A Midsummer Night's Dream. Again, I don't know a damn about the play, I have no interest in it, I had no interest, period... until I took note that Sonia McCall was in as set designer. A slight interest, yes, but then realizing how nobody was taking pictures of this play? Oh, no, somebody has to... so I enlisted. For the most part, I was the clumsy one who didn't know what and where, so I basically sat around and waited for the girls to give me orders. Take it like a man... but take it from Sonia? I think I'd oblige. The main cake was work on this huge canvas that would be the backdrop for the play. She painted a print representation of the canvas, and gridded it onto this canvas. She is an artist, but she is a handy man. I don't know whether this is good or awkward, didn't matter, got to get this thing done.
Only eventually, did I really get active and social with them all. Within a few days, would I notice an infinite amount of comfort working with these women, than I ever did with our othersome women in our drama department, in two years. There's always something to talk about, something that would be entertaining, never a dull moment, it is fun. I feel good working here. Crew, I don't know yet, it's tedious, but at least here. Sonia herself is, straight-up, an absolute goddess to look at, anyway, but she has such personality and ego, with her art but with herself... alright, I am getting ahead of myself, as usual, but... I am happy here. I never feel awkward, or forced, there isn't tension. I love it. Everyday is a day to look forward to working with her and her team. I like her. She's gorgeous, she's got character, she's fun... and I'm only just getting to know her. I'm gonna feel bad when this is over, because it'll be a day spent not working with her, and chatting about God knows what with her, and back to just glances and hellos' in the hall... but I'm only just getting to know her.
Anyway, something else that would've made my 18th more significant was a wanting to restart. With Playstation. I may have posted about this earlier, or not (I don't want rediscuss this, it's too much for one thing) but basically, PSN's terrible network system did come to haunt my non-existent Master Account, and my Sub-Account was now useless... anyway, I wanted to start anew. See, I'll officially be 18, I can give actual legit account information like I wanted to years ago (which gave way to my Sub-Account and eventual dilemma), had a new email, plans for a new username (notice Blogger header), I was getting tired of using other's accounts, I wanted back in. Upload my reclaimed and new Trophies, my PSN friends, Uncharted 2 multiplayer, finally jump the gun on COD Black Ops multiplayer, my inFAMOUS 2 beta (thank you, thank you, THANK YOU, Sucker Punch), Netflix... I wanted back in! Studied for Economics, listened to the Rolling Stones...12:04am! Turn on my system, rush to the User, click the icon, click 'Create A New Account', load!... 'An error has occured.'
This eventual PSN shutdown would last for the next five days.
Next morning, the birth day, wake up, good morning, "Anthony! Happy birthday! Get down, breakfast! See you." Bye, guys. Kitchen, Hot Pocket. Make it to school, sit down, study over my Economics again, Sean and Tyler appear, put my book up, talk, whip out my Spider-Man LEGO figure (for my RoboLab for Mrs. McKean's Java class, of course), and we high school students find entertainment out of a LEGO figure. Oh, I'm 18, alright.
For some reason, the only thing I can talk about during the birthday week is my birthday; when the actual birthday comes along, I hardly mention it. It's my 18th birthday, first thing I do is sit down and study from my Economics book. The day goes on, nothing to write home about, but wishful thinking from friends to wish me a good birthday. That's enough for me. Good friends, honest friends, a good time, that's enough for me. It was after our A-lunch Friday where my day began...
The first practice performance of our play, for a small critiquing audience. Again, I'm in crew, so my priority was to work on our canvas and whatever else my boss would request. Sam. He opens the door, indicates me to follow him, and tells me my new boss, our play set coordinator (we have a set-coordinator, now?), to follow set protocall while the play is in motion. Okay, this is new, but whatever, after 12:55am, I have to quit and go to my classes.
4 hours.
Rebecca gives me absolutely no orders. I'm backstage for the rest of the school day, and missed the rest of my classes, with the impression that I'm more than likely skipping class and possibly threaten my exam excemptions. No position to get Mrs. Simons over to tell her what just happened, since a play was in-performance. The play finally ends, it's 2:45pm, alright, I should at least get Mrs. Simons to email my teachers, and catch my bus alright. The play finally ends, it's 2:45pm, the directors of our play lock their doors and exclude access like SS generals, everyone is ordered to sit down and wait, I missed my bus, my dad's phone is off, what the fuck just happened...
After another hour of useless, non-stop lecturing about our play and performing, we're free to leave. The play is surprisingly still a go. Mrs. Simons, can you email my teachers, tell them I had to stick around for the rest of the performance? Why, what are you doing here, etc, etc? Well, how 'bout Sam unexpectedly pulling me over and somehow making me a part of this crew of the play? Were you given a prior-approval? You never gave me one; this just happened today. Anthony, I can't do that, etc, etc, teachers will think you're skipping, etc, either you're in trouble for skipping classes, or I'm in trouble for letting a student stay without any prior approval, etc. Sam isn't your teacher, who's your teacher? Mrs. Simons, Sam is your responsibility, you can't just pin this on me, I was just following orders...
My blood heats. My face boils. I exit the school silent, in a rage. I leave a message on my dad's phone, telling him that I wasted hours after school for the play after all, the buses are gone, and I'm just walking home. Happy birthday.
The long walk home, but at least I actually had lunch and a lighter load. This cut it. All that's ever happened with me and this damn drama department was my full devotion to the two years I've spent in this department, and no credit for anything. Mrs. Simons has given me bullshit, this was where the straw was finally broken. I'm staying for Sonia now. After this play, failure or not, I am done. The last three weeks I'll spend in this school, I won't have any involvement with any of the shit I'm gonna have to do. I've been told before how she milks students to do her work, I never noticed or cared, now I do. I am glad this is my last year here, maybe just for this reason. I now understand why I've lost my touch with theatre. I thought it was me, I felt blank and loose about theatre, I loved it but didn't know why I wasn't so into it as before, but it wasn't me, all along. This class, this school subject, a dream, a love, and this teacher dwindles it down with no care in the world. I am, I'm done.
Thank God for Allen Harris, though, to cheer me up for the rest of the walk, as him and his fellow comrades play ultimate frisbee in the field I pass by walking. I'm in my neighborhood. I check my mail... the official letter from ASU indicating my acceptance. A smile. I'm home now. David said in an email today at school that he sent a package, and should arrive today. Anticipation, is there a package infront of the door? I bet there is. There is. My anguish, my wonderful day is interrupted by this usher of ignorance hours ago, but I'm home. My cat, greeting me? Does he know it's my birthday? A wonderful cat rubbing his head on my leg, an acceptance letter from Augusta State, Killzone 3 still wrapped and waiting, and now A Cartoon History of the Modern World collection from David, which I've taken a literary interest in before. I'm sweaty and exhausted to play my new video game, so I decide to unwind and hunker down for a little while downstairs. I continue on towards Platinum on God of War III, but the parents arrive home in a few hours (conveniently when I reach Poseidon's Chamber, with his nude princess taking center-stage, of course. Haha). The usual ice-cream cake with the same cherry red Happy Birthday Anthony! ontop, and dinner... from Captain D's? Um, alrighty, then. We put on our rented copy of The King's Speech, and eat our dinner as we view.
Life can be good like this.
Killzone 3 itself seems like what the reviews have been saying so far. The story and dialogue seems weak and predictable (though that may be because I spoiled most of it via those reviews), but the action and pacing is fun and ecentric. I was really looking foward to a new PSN account, but this shutdown came at a more inconvenient time.
Saturday was also part of the birthday plan, really since my parents were busy on my birthday Firday. The plan? Dinner at Hooters, with the camera, and movies at GTC Masters, the dollar theater, for The Adjustment Bureau. Until then, work was made on our stove and fridge, for some odd reason, and TV informmercials aren't all full of crap, at least, not from something like Kaboom! cleaner. Billy Mays never lies. It did wonders for my bathtub months ago, it did wonders for the atrocious mess behind the stove. Back and forth, back and forth, make up your mind, do you want a sponge or a rag? Bucket of water? Screwdriver or what? After the work, I watched and learned as my dad fixed one of the car's headlights, and taught me about cars. Jon's season finale of 'Arby 'n' the Chief ' was uploaded, and it's definitely his finest work. The thing about longevity and improvement. He's got it.
Eventually, we reach the time for dinner... and for some unexplainable reason, I questioned my decision about Hooters for dinner? Was it because of an interest in more diverse food? Or Sonia? Or the drinkers and horny rednecks that make the atmosphere of Hooters? Or how somewhat awkward my first trip last year was? Last moment, it's Hooters; it's closest to the movies, anyway, and we had but a mere hour before our film began. Unlike last year, business was quiet. Hardly any wild people or even Hooter Girls. Our waitress wasn't the eccentric Amanda from last year. My dad tossed out that it was my birthday today (though it was yesterday), and our waitress simply gave a mere "Oh, happy birthday." I can respect that, but... this is Hooters! I thought there would be a Hooters Hokey-Pokey like last year! And we finally had our camera! I left very :(
The Adjustment Bureau was a passable movie... and it sure beat Inception to me. I honestly didn't like much about that movie, really. Maybe the special effects, I dunno... the movie ends, and I leave the theater, I hold the door for a few folks leaving the theater, then headed out, and suddenly (a different) Sean appears, and I can be sure Ashyr, Ashyre, would be right behind. I glance at her, she catches, says "Hey" very subtly, I replay "Hi." very subtly, they enter the theater, I continue heading out. For a brief moment, as I stood and waited outside in the humid night air, I suddenly soaked something in.
Ashyr, the coolest person I got to know Sophomore year, someone I cared so very much about, and was more than glad was my good friend, and in two, three years...
Nothing. No emotion. It was just lost. I haven't seen her, talked to her for years... and my vivid imagination, of seeing a very old, lost friend appear in the same movie theater as I, and Ashyr becomes one of those friends... nothing. Two, three years... how far... I didn't hesitate to stop and hug, or catch up for abit, I didn't feel a thing. Nothing. Now granted, Sean was obviously near, so any thought of anything of the sort would mean nothing with her pussy of a boyfriend around... but I still felt like there was ever anything. And even now, I still don't feel anything, despite writing about this right now. Just nothing.
It's almost like a message from the movie. Planned or unplanned, life can do these things. I'm constantly questioning about "spending each day like it was my last". I almost never have that feeling of fulfilliment... yet, I realized this week that I see everyday. There is never a dull moment with my every day.
18 years, one week, and it already feels like I've experienced enough for one lifetime.
- Ant
I could say it started on the first part of the week, instead of my actual birthday on Friday. I was selected for the inFAMOUS 2 beta, or how much I'm enjoying working on this play as crew, or how this would probably be a long week of anticipation for my birthday. Either way, the rest of this week was something to write about.
For starters, to my surprise, I recieved a code to the inFAMOUS 2 beta. The beta keys were sent about a week ago, I thought it would be the end, but it's as if... the last ticket, for me... I was left jumping. Oh, the joy, oh, the rush! Yeah, sure, that same night Mary Scheirer was tempting everyone with her letter from SCAD, people were talking about advances in their lives, being accepted to colleges... for a moment, I lost care. All that mattered was that I was selected by a generous game company to test the exclusive online beta for the fantastic and upcoming inFAMOUS 2. But that was for a moment...
Left and right, my friends from schools abroad were being accepted to colleges? And I'm just sitting where I am. For the past few weeks, I have been going over my college info, and so much was missing before an acceptance could be made. I've been almost pestering ASU admission about my missing documents, because those documents were sent. I did send my information, my SAT scores, my Verification of Lawful Presence, my Immunization Form, I did everything! How was I not being accepted?!? This is Augusta State University. This shouldn't have to be so difficult! I felt sorry for pestering, but there had to be some problem. This week, after another email telling me they looked but still couldn't find any of those forms, I confronted my dad again, and he actually insisted on searching his make-shift office to show me he sent it.
He never did. Over a month and a half, and I was about ready to explode at ASU, when my dad realized he never sent that envelope. I should've expected this, but when I asked him again this week whether he actually sent all the information... he searches around, an interruption, and shows me the envelope, with the ASU address printed on the familiar household envelope as I look over my college stats on this laptop... and tells me it was buried under bills. This rush, I was ready to break his neck, in so many ways... in fact, the thought still lurches in me as I type this... again, I should have expected this from him, I trusted him with this... what in God's name... I exploded at him like I've never exploded at anyone before in my life. I wanted to mutilate him. For putting me through this, for putting my future at risk, under a desk of his life: bills. A life that irritates the living hell out of me. Even if it was for a month or so, I lost my patience, energy, with this meaningless problem. That moment broke it.
The next day, as I could check my merged email via Microsoft Outlook on our school computers, I emailed both admission recruiters, who've stuck with me since my application process, a subtle apology and explanation. My dad would personally send-in the forms to the college that day. That same night, I received a reply from one of the admission recruiters, the one who usually comes to our school and sets a "college recruitment booth", understood, and introduced me by his casual name, Ryan, and insisted we should hang out as he implied my acceptance to ASU. The next morning, a Thursday, I look at my myASU, and indeed, I've been accepted to Augusta State University. Again, ASU isn't a college for me to jump over... at least, maybe not yet; don't even want to jump about college... but it's a start, somewhere. My parents bring in good news for the day, don't remember what, though, but I toss in my good news, and... yeah. ASU.
What also began this week, or maybe weeks before, was working with crew for our class presentation of A Midsummer Night's Dream. Again, I don't know a damn about the play, I have no interest in it, I had no interest, period... until I took note that Sonia McCall was in as set designer. A slight interest, yes, but then realizing how nobody was taking pictures of this play? Oh, no, somebody has to... so I enlisted. For the most part, I was the clumsy one who didn't know what and where, so I basically sat around and waited for the girls to give me orders. Take it like a man... but take it from Sonia? I think I'd oblige. The main cake was work on this huge canvas that would be the backdrop for the play. She painted a print representation of the canvas, and gridded it onto this canvas. She is an artist, but she is a handy man. I don't know whether this is good or awkward, didn't matter, got to get this thing done.
Only eventually, did I really get active and social with them all. Within a few days, would I notice an infinite amount of comfort working with these women, than I ever did with our othersome women in our drama department, in two years. There's always something to talk about, something that would be entertaining, never a dull moment, it is fun. I feel good working here. Crew, I don't know yet, it's tedious, but at least here. Sonia herself is, straight-up, an absolute goddess to look at, anyway, but she has such personality and ego, with her art but with herself... alright, I am getting ahead of myself, as usual, but... I am happy here. I never feel awkward, or forced, there isn't tension. I love it. Everyday is a day to look forward to working with her and her team. I like her. She's gorgeous, she's got character, she's fun... and I'm only just getting to know her. I'm gonna feel bad when this is over, because it'll be a day spent not working with her, and chatting about God knows what with her, and back to just glances and hellos' in the hall... but I'm only just getting to know her.
Anyway, something else that would've made my 18th more significant was a wanting to restart. With Playstation. I may have posted about this earlier, or not (I don't want rediscuss this, it's too much for one thing) but basically, PSN's terrible network system did come to haunt my non-existent Master Account, and my Sub-Account was now useless... anyway, I wanted to start anew. See, I'll officially be 18, I can give actual legit account information like I wanted to years ago (which gave way to my Sub-Account and eventual dilemma), had a new email, plans for a new username (notice Blogger header), I was getting tired of using other's accounts, I wanted back in. Upload my reclaimed and new Trophies, my PSN friends, Uncharted 2 multiplayer, finally jump the gun on COD Black Ops multiplayer, my inFAMOUS 2 beta (thank you, thank you, THANK YOU, Sucker Punch), Netflix... I wanted back in! Studied for Economics, listened to the Rolling Stones...12:04am! Turn on my system, rush to the User, click the icon, click 'Create A New Account', load!... 'An error has occured.'
This eventual PSN shutdown would last for the next five days.
Next morning, the birth day, wake up, good morning, "Anthony! Happy birthday! Get down, breakfast! See you." Bye, guys. Kitchen, Hot Pocket. Make it to school, sit down, study over my Economics again, Sean and Tyler appear, put my book up, talk, whip out my Spider-Man LEGO figure (for my RoboLab for Mrs. McKean's Java class, of course), and we high school students find entertainment out of a LEGO figure. Oh, I'm 18, alright.
For some reason, the only thing I can talk about during the birthday week is my birthday; when the actual birthday comes along, I hardly mention it. It's my 18th birthday, first thing I do is sit down and study from my Economics book. The day goes on, nothing to write home about, but wishful thinking from friends to wish me a good birthday. That's enough for me. Good friends, honest friends, a good time, that's enough for me. It was after our A-lunch Friday where my day began...
The first practice performance of our play, for a small critiquing audience. Again, I'm in crew, so my priority was to work on our canvas and whatever else my boss would request. Sam. He opens the door, indicates me to follow him, and tells me my new boss, our play set coordinator (we have a set-coordinator, now?), to follow set protocall while the play is in motion. Okay, this is new, but whatever, after 12:55am, I have to quit and go to my classes.
4 hours.
Rebecca gives me absolutely no orders. I'm backstage for the rest of the school day, and missed the rest of my classes, with the impression that I'm more than likely skipping class and possibly threaten my exam excemptions. No position to get Mrs. Simons over to tell her what just happened, since a play was in-performance. The play finally ends, it's 2:45pm, alright, I should at least get Mrs. Simons to email my teachers, and catch my bus alright. The play finally ends, it's 2:45pm, the directors of our play lock their doors and exclude access like SS generals, everyone is ordered to sit down and wait, I missed my bus, my dad's phone is off, what the fuck just happened...
After another hour of useless, non-stop lecturing about our play and performing, we're free to leave. The play is surprisingly still a go. Mrs. Simons, can you email my teachers, tell them I had to stick around for the rest of the performance? Why, what are you doing here, etc, etc? Well, how 'bout Sam unexpectedly pulling me over and somehow making me a part of this crew of the play? Were you given a prior-approval? You never gave me one; this just happened today. Anthony, I can't do that, etc, etc, teachers will think you're skipping, etc, either you're in trouble for skipping classes, or I'm in trouble for letting a student stay without any prior approval, etc. Sam isn't your teacher, who's your teacher? Mrs. Simons, Sam is your responsibility, you can't just pin this on me, I was just following orders...
My blood heats. My face boils. I exit the school silent, in a rage. I leave a message on my dad's phone, telling him that I wasted hours after school for the play after all, the buses are gone, and I'm just walking home. Happy birthday.
The long walk home, but at least I actually had lunch and a lighter load. This cut it. All that's ever happened with me and this damn drama department was my full devotion to the two years I've spent in this department, and no credit for anything. Mrs. Simons has given me bullshit, this was where the straw was finally broken. I'm staying for Sonia now. After this play, failure or not, I am done. The last three weeks I'll spend in this school, I won't have any involvement with any of the shit I'm gonna have to do. I've been told before how she milks students to do her work, I never noticed or cared, now I do. I am glad this is my last year here, maybe just for this reason. I now understand why I've lost my touch with theatre. I thought it was me, I felt blank and loose about theatre, I loved it but didn't know why I wasn't so into it as before, but it wasn't me, all along. This class, this school subject, a dream, a love, and this teacher dwindles it down with no care in the world. I am, I'm done.
Thank God for Allen Harris, though, to cheer me up for the rest of the walk, as him and his fellow comrades play ultimate frisbee in the field I pass by walking. I'm in my neighborhood. I check my mail... the official letter from ASU indicating my acceptance. A smile. I'm home now. David said in an email today at school that he sent a package, and should arrive today. Anticipation, is there a package infront of the door? I bet there is. There is. My anguish, my wonderful day is interrupted by this usher of ignorance hours ago, but I'm home. My cat, greeting me? Does he know it's my birthday? A wonderful cat rubbing his head on my leg, an acceptance letter from Augusta State, Killzone 3 still wrapped and waiting, and now A Cartoon History of the Modern World collection from David, which I've taken a literary interest in before. I'm sweaty and exhausted to play my new video game, so I decide to unwind and hunker down for a little while downstairs. I continue on towards Platinum on God of War III, but the parents arrive home in a few hours (conveniently when I reach Poseidon's Chamber, with his nude princess taking center-stage, of course. Haha). The usual ice-cream cake with the same cherry red Happy Birthday Anthony! ontop, and dinner... from Captain D's? Um, alrighty, then. We put on our rented copy of The King's Speech, and eat our dinner as we view.
Life can be good like this.
Killzone 3 itself seems like what the reviews have been saying so far. The story and dialogue seems weak and predictable (though that may be because I spoiled most of it via those reviews), but the action and pacing is fun and ecentric. I was really looking foward to a new PSN account, but this shutdown came at a more inconvenient time.
Saturday was also part of the birthday plan, really since my parents were busy on my birthday Firday. The plan? Dinner at Hooters, with the camera, and movies at GTC Masters, the dollar theater, for The Adjustment Bureau. Until then, work was made on our stove and fridge, for some odd reason, and TV informmercials aren't all full of crap, at least, not from something like Kaboom! cleaner. Billy Mays never lies. It did wonders for my bathtub months ago, it did wonders for the atrocious mess behind the stove. Back and forth, back and forth, make up your mind, do you want a sponge or a rag? Bucket of water? Screwdriver or what? After the work, I watched and learned as my dad fixed one of the car's headlights, and taught me about cars. Jon's season finale of 'Arby 'n' the Chief ' was uploaded, and it's definitely his finest work. The thing about longevity and improvement. He's got it.
Eventually, we reach the time for dinner... and for some unexplainable reason, I questioned my decision about Hooters for dinner? Was it because of an interest in more diverse food? Or Sonia? Or the drinkers and horny rednecks that make the atmosphere of Hooters? Or how somewhat awkward my first trip last year was? Last moment, it's Hooters; it's closest to the movies, anyway, and we had but a mere hour before our film began. Unlike last year, business was quiet. Hardly any wild people or even Hooter Girls. Our waitress wasn't the eccentric Amanda from last year. My dad tossed out that it was my birthday today (though it was yesterday), and our waitress simply gave a mere "Oh, happy birthday." I can respect that, but... this is Hooters! I thought there would be a Hooters Hokey-Pokey like last year! And we finally had our camera! I left very :(
The Adjustment Bureau was a passable movie... and it sure beat Inception to me. I honestly didn't like much about that movie, really. Maybe the special effects, I dunno... the movie ends, and I leave the theater, I hold the door for a few folks leaving the theater, then headed out, and suddenly (a different) Sean appears, and I can be sure Ashyr, Ashyre, would be right behind. I glance at her, she catches, says "Hey" very subtly, I replay "Hi." very subtly, they enter the theater, I continue heading out. For a brief moment, as I stood and waited outside in the humid night air, I suddenly soaked something in.
Ashyr, the coolest person I got to know Sophomore year, someone I cared so very much about, and was more than glad was my good friend, and in two, three years...
Nothing. No emotion. It was just lost. I haven't seen her, talked to her for years... and my vivid imagination, of seeing a very old, lost friend appear in the same movie theater as I, and Ashyr becomes one of those friends... nothing. Two, three years... how far... I didn't hesitate to stop and hug, or catch up for abit, I didn't feel a thing. Nothing. Now granted, Sean was obviously near, so any thought of anything of the sort would mean nothing with her pussy of a boyfriend around... but I still felt like there was ever anything. And even now, I still don't feel anything, despite writing about this right now. Just nothing.
It's almost like a message from the movie. Planned or unplanned, life can do these things. I'm constantly questioning about "spending each day like it was my last". I almost never have that feeling of fulfilliment... yet, I realized this week that I see everyday. There is never a dull moment with my every day.
18 years, one week, and it already feels like I've experienced enough for one lifetime.
- Ant
Apr 11, 2011
April 11th, 2011- Turn Up! The Radio!
If you read my latest (and hopefully last, for awhile) status on Facebook, you should know that I'm diverting to status rehab... and towards something more freeing and less limited. About every day of every week, this blog, in need of some words and paragraphs, will be spoiled with talks and thoughts... and those inclined or vaguely interested are more than welcome to view.
Somehow, I cannot stop expressing how I feel on Facebook, and, I've been having people threatening to block me on Facebook... and Lord knows I do not want that to happen, now...
Before the Spring Break was out, I returned to wearing my wrist things and dogtag, strapping a fresh and minty new box of Altoids, and putting the Lennon shades again. It's been so long, and I really don't know why I have ignored them for so long. Maybe too busy? Too upset, or too happy? Too open, or too closed? Or a sense that I don't need them so much as before... whatever it is, it was a temporary absense of old habits, and they're back and more refreshing than ever... especially when I prepared for what would be an annoyance of a return.
I watched 'Hot Tub Time Machine' far too much this week, so much that I've been looping Autographs' "Turn Up The Radio", and it gave me this sense of return. A feeling that I was back. I was finally back, I was so happy, I still am happy... I feel it right now, the rush, the adrenaline (probably from the song, though), the freedom... freedom of speech, of thought, of expression... I was free, again.
As if there was a sequel; the feeling that the main character was back, but with something new. Higher conscience? Learning each week and time? Freedom to let nature do its voodoo? Bob Dylan. This guy... he sounded like a freaky old guy when I first heard him... and now that my appreciation for him not only shot through the ceiling, but have him battle the forces of today. The truth in his music, written as far as the 60s... like Fahrenheit 451, it's so set in stone, it's damning yet beautiful. It's good to have his music with me. But even with this sensation of return or resurrection... it would not prepare me for my dealing with a class that imprisons.
Today, as if the pressures of returning to our "business" in Business Ed were going to bust me, I was more than happily surprised that Mrs. Scott would sub. So, of course, the business went on a day-vacation. I would've enjoyed it, but an uncertainty for a paper had me look it over on my computer, and have it instead come up as a corrupt file. I really have to change flashdrives. This is seriously the third time I had issues with a paper I did not know a date due for. A class period that could've been spent resting or hanging, I spent redoing this damn paper.
Returning to Drama II, seeing people that I find welcoming, or annoying, or reverse-annoyance... nothing new... but it stressed me that for a play we're endearing to complete, we only reviewed what we already knew. But at least I'm finally in the play crew, by painting a throne seat. Bell rings, get up, get out, sundaes and float games for Seniors? Out behind the school. But first to Business Ed, as how I didn't pick up the print of that damn paper. It would take me to a conversation with Mrs. Scott. Mrs. Scott is such a nice lady. Before the sundaes, I talked with her about life choices... she enjoys her life. She herself went to ASU, bu never finished, or figured what she would've majored/minored in... but she enjoys her job and life.
I think that's all that matters.
5th period bell rings, and I walk towards what was going to be a firestorm of people beating at me for not dressing up for the damn Senior week dress-up thing. 'Dodgeball'. We have an unpresedented number of choices, but we choose 'Dodgeball'. Ignore the "we". A movie I haven't seen, have no interest in seeing, nothing exciting as other classes today... and no proper clothing for. And by proper, it means purple or yellow. I'll be the only person not dressed up for it, we'll lose points towards a Senior competition we're not gonna win, anyway, since we were missing maybe two or three people today, but it still falls down to me and my clothing choice.
Stephen stops me with glee and lends me an extra pair of his gym shorts. Just so I could look like I slightly attempted. Nice guy. Alright, gym clothes on, but nothing to say that I'm purple or yellow. Sharpie out, notebook paper against the bathroom stall wall, "I'M ASIAN. I AM YELLOW..." I told Mrs. Collins I would provide blank charisma for her class. There. Get in the room, go outside to clean up the sundae area, and she complains like I predicted...Go back in, take a picture, and I optimistically hold my sign infront of her camera, picture taken, I doubt it was in it, I don't care, Zach is a crybaby... Christ...
Mrs. Collins, you can kick me out of the room, you can stab me in the throat or puncture my spine, you can have the entire class get at me and make sure my last year at Lakeside is nothing but hell... you can do anything... and it won't solve my pidly-ass interest in your sad and desperate life, or most of a vague and desolate 5th period. I'll do the work you provide, I'll make sure I pass your class... but I won't solve your interest in getting me interested. You want me involved in your Senior week? I could have any teacher in my schedule... Mr. Meitin, Mrs. McKean, Mrs. Simons... even Mrs. Hancock, at least I have a cool group of people I could feel comfortable working and spiriting it up with for the week... but your lack of optimism, or mannerism, or damning ability of control, or other adjectives and nouns I can't think up right now... will not get me interested in this week, or anything of the sort for the rest of the year. It's not Lakeside, I love it here. It's you.
ANYWAY, venting complete, bring up the admin to write me up for it... but aside this bugbite for the day, the rest of it went as predicted; surrounded by the narrow, the hypocrites, the pathetic, and the absolutely awesome... it's an obvious picture I can conjure in my head, and it plays out like music. Maybe not externally, but I could see it happen, anyway. The damned damn themselves, the strong feed off the weak and die for lack of substance... crap, crap crap... I feel like a narcisist... it's an obvious picture, that I try not to feed off of, I honestly don't, and I really take pity... but then again, I'm the happy one in the situation. And they're as old and mature-capable as I am or can be... they can solve their problems, and leave me to reading my Playstation Magazine.
I remember last year, Mr. Shouse caught me drafting on my blog, and Mr. Riddick conviniently checking out the classroom, and confiscating my entire blog on paper, threatened me that "this is just the beginning; there's more to come"... he called me up eventually in 3rd period that day, then... he just looked at, read those papers, and told me he'll get back to me.
He hasn't since. So... Mr. Riddick, if you're still reading my blog... good evening... this blog is back, it's getting more action than ever, and it'll hopefully get me back to sanity once again. Or am I already the sane one? Help wanted.
- Ant
-- Good grief, this is maybe over two pages...
Somehow, I cannot stop expressing how I feel on Facebook, and, I've been having people threatening to block me on Facebook... and Lord knows I do not want that to happen, now...
Before the Spring Break was out, I returned to wearing my wrist things and dogtag, strapping a fresh and minty new box of Altoids, and putting the Lennon shades again. It's been so long, and I really don't know why I have ignored them for so long. Maybe too busy? Too upset, or too happy? Too open, or too closed? Or a sense that I don't need them so much as before... whatever it is, it was a temporary absense of old habits, and they're back and more refreshing than ever... especially when I prepared for what would be an annoyance of a return.
I watched 'Hot Tub Time Machine' far too much this week, so much that I've been looping Autographs' "Turn Up The Radio", and it gave me this sense of return. A feeling that I was back. I was finally back, I was so happy, I still am happy... I feel it right now, the rush, the adrenaline (probably from the song, though), the freedom... freedom of speech, of thought, of expression... I was free, again.
As if there was a sequel; the feeling that the main character was back, but with something new. Higher conscience? Learning each week and time? Freedom to let nature do its voodoo? Bob Dylan. This guy... he sounded like a freaky old guy when I first heard him... and now that my appreciation for him not only shot through the ceiling, but have him battle the forces of today. The truth in his music, written as far as the 60s... like Fahrenheit 451, it's so set in stone, it's damning yet beautiful. It's good to have his music with me. But even with this sensation of return or resurrection... it would not prepare me for my dealing with a class that imprisons.
Today, as if the pressures of returning to our "business" in Business Ed were going to bust me, I was more than happily surprised that Mrs. Scott would sub. So, of course, the business went on a day-vacation. I would've enjoyed it, but an uncertainty for a paper had me look it over on my computer, and have it instead come up as a corrupt file. I really have to change flashdrives. This is seriously the third time I had issues with a paper I did not know a date due for. A class period that could've been spent resting or hanging, I spent redoing this damn paper.
Returning to Drama II, seeing people that I find welcoming, or annoying, or reverse-annoyance... nothing new... but it stressed me that for a play we're endearing to complete, we only reviewed what we already knew. But at least I'm finally in the play crew, by painting a throne seat. Bell rings, get up, get out, sundaes and float games for Seniors? Out behind the school. But first to Business Ed, as how I didn't pick up the print of that damn paper. It would take me to a conversation with Mrs. Scott. Mrs. Scott is such a nice lady. Before the sundaes, I talked with her about life choices... she enjoys her life. She herself went to ASU, bu never finished, or figured what she would've majored/minored in... but she enjoys her job and life.
I think that's all that matters.
5th period bell rings, and I walk towards what was going to be a firestorm of people beating at me for not dressing up for the damn Senior week dress-up thing. 'Dodgeball'. We have an unpresedented number of choices, but we choose 'Dodgeball'. Ignore the "we". A movie I haven't seen, have no interest in seeing, nothing exciting as other classes today... and no proper clothing for. And by proper, it means purple or yellow. I'll be the only person not dressed up for it, we'll lose points towards a Senior competition we're not gonna win, anyway, since we were missing maybe two or three people today, but it still falls down to me and my clothing choice.
Stephen stops me with glee and lends me an extra pair of his gym shorts. Just so I could look like I slightly attempted. Nice guy. Alright, gym clothes on, but nothing to say that I'm purple or yellow. Sharpie out, notebook paper against the bathroom stall wall, "I'M ASIAN. I AM YELLOW..." I told Mrs. Collins I would provide blank charisma for her class. There. Get in the room, go outside to clean up the sundae area, and she complains like I predicted...Go back in, take a picture, and I optimistically hold my sign infront of her camera, picture taken, I doubt it was in it, I don't care, Zach is a crybaby... Christ...
Mrs. Collins, you can kick me out of the room, you can stab me in the throat or puncture my spine, you can have the entire class get at me and make sure my last year at Lakeside is nothing but hell... you can do anything... and it won't solve my pidly-ass interest in your sad and desperate life, or most of a vague and desolate 5th period. I'll do the work you provide, I'll make sure I pass your class... but I won't solve your interest in getting me interested. You want me involved in your Senior week? I could have any teacher in my schedule... Mr. Meitin, Mrs. McKean, Mrs. Simons... even Mrs. Hancock, at least I have a cool group of people I could feel comfortable working and spiriting it up with for the week... but your lack of optimism, or mannerism, or damning ability of control, or other adjectives and nouns I can't think up right now... will not get me interested in this week, or anything of the sort for the rest of the year. It's not Lakeside, I love it here. It's you.
ANYWAY, venting complete, bring up the admin to write me up for it... but aside this bugbite for the day, the rest of it went as predicted; surrounded by the narrow, the hypocrites, the pathetic, and the absolutely awesome... it's an obvious picture I can conjure in my head, and it plays out like music. Maybe not externally, but I could see it happen, anyway. The damned damn themselves, the strong feed off the weak and die for lack of substance... crap, crap crap... I feel like a narcisist... it's an obvious picture, that I try not to feed off of, I honestly don't, and I really take pity... but then again, I'm the happy one in the situation. And they're as old and mature-capable as I am or can be... they can solve their problems, and leave me to reading my Playstation Magazine.
I remember last year, Mr. Shouse caught me drafting on my blog, and Mr. Riddick conviniently checking out the classroom, and confiscating my entire blog on paper, threatened me that "this is just the beginning; there's more to come"... he called me up eventually in 3rd period that day, then... he just looked at, read those papers, and told me he'll get back to me.
He hasn't since. So... Mr. Riddick, if you're still reading my blog... good evening... this blog is back, it's getting more action than ever, and it'll hopefully get me back to sanity once again. Or am I already the sane one? Help wanted.
- Ant
-- Good grief, this is maybe over two pages...
Apr 6, 2011
A new post.
Good evening, it is 10:14pm on April the 6th.
Right now, my mind is at a complete blank on what to write on this new post. I have not written on my blog for maybe two months, though it feels like years. I feel scripted, thin. I feel wired, into a system. I finished my Senior Project completely almost a month ago. My presentation, the final stage, was a major success, despite a rough practice presentation. I felt confident, memorized, excellent. But it was over. I come home from the evening, no homework, no troubles... yet the work put into it, and the work outside it, haunted me. It still haunts me.
That is how I'm feeling. I feel controlled and limited. My thoughts are slowly beginning to come out. I've been stressing and complaining via Facebook, it's been obvious for many, blank for others who don't view my profile (I don't blame ya), but despite the rants, or moments of fantastic adventure, or moments where nothing was holding me down... I feel chained. I wake up, and all I see is the work, the pressure, the future... I want it to stop...
It feels like it's trying to come back. But my wired conscience, and drowsiness, are keeping me from letting it go. But it's not just those; it's mostly myself. I have fears. Drunkenness. A lust for success and achievement. I told myself once that this is absolutely not the way to live. A life where there is nothing to lose, and that I should live free and young, and die free and old. This pressure from the world... I should stop. I must stop. Not for the sake of my future success and achievements, or failures... but for the sake of my future, period.
- Ant
Right now, my mind is at a complete blank on what to write on this new post. I have not written on my blog for maybe two months, though it feels like years. I feel scripted, thin. I feel wired, into a system. I finished my Senior Project completely almost a month ago. My presentation, the final stage, was a major success, despite a rough practice presentation. I felt confident, memorized, excellent. But it was over. I come home from the evening, no homework, no troubles... yet the work put into it, and the work outside it, haunted me. It still haunts me.
That is how I'm feeling. I feel controlled and limited. My thoughts are slowly beginning to come out. I've been stressing and complaining via Facebook, it's been obvious for many, blank for others who don't view my profile (I don't blame ya), but despite the rants, or moments of fantastic adventure, or moments where nothing was holding me down... I feel chained. I wake up, and all I see is the work, the pressure, the future... I want it to stop...
It feels like it's trying to come back. But my wired conscience, and drowsiness, are keeping me from letting it go. But it's not just those; it's mostly myself. I have fears. Drunkenness. A lust for success and achievement. I told myself once that this is absolutely not the way to live. A life where there is nothing to lose, and that I should live free and young, and die free and old. This pressure from the world... I should stop. I must stop. Not for the sake of my future success and achievements, or failures... but for the sake of my future, period.
- Ant
Feb 9, 2011
February
A break. A small moment, to remind me that it’s all good. And the Rolling Stones are helping.
When was the last time I’ve written? And by written, I obviously don’t mean school essays and scripts, because that’s all I’ve been writing these weeks and months.
For a little amount of time, I’m back, and though I’ve yet to return from surviving weeks of monumental work, I’m taking a break from Java Programming class right now, to write. Because Jesus H-fucking Christ, I need to write. I haven’t written in almost two months, and it seems that it’s one of the few things this time that can keep me from running on fumes.
This month has been beyond hectic. Even if I’m more than likely exaggerating, it still says a lot that I haven’t had any opportunity in the world to write on my blog. Two months. Two months, a gratuitous plethora of homework and responsibilities, a damning anxiety for the Senior Project (which has been hitting its mark more than ever this month.), and simply trying to keep up.
I feel like I’ve been gone for God knows how long, and only right now, am I slightly coming back home. I can feel it in my chest. In a few days, on the 23d of this February, my product. My portfolio. Basically EVERYTHING I’ve been working on most of these months… will be turned in, complete or not complete, I don’t care, it’ll probably be complete, I hope it is, but it will be done. The deed of my Senior year will be done, even if I have to present it in a few months, I don’t care one bit, it. Will. Be. Done.
Only then, will I think I’ll be more than freed, even if slightly. Yes, the Project will be mostly complete for me, but I still have Senior year to complete. And God has the sense of humor to give me Mr. Meitin… all… over again, for Algebra III.
I’ve braved winds and hell for 3 years, I survived Mrs. Johnson, and Mrs. Varner, for Spanish II and Spanish III. But it comes to this, the final boss battle, the last one that will ever be, that will test if I can or will complete this game, graduation. He has no emotion if we fail his class and can’t graduate, he’s said so himself. About 30 people, that I know in one class, will possibly be held back… by one hellish class. This one class, a test of wills. A test of how far I’ll be willing to sacrifice to make sure I pass his class…
Jesus, Ronnie Wood has a sick rift in this song…
Frankly, I have an 87 in his class right now, and it’s almost the end of the 3rd 9wks… but I know it won’t last. I have a test tomorrow, and I know 3/4 the material we’re gonna have. I remind myself how this isn’t Trigonometry anymore, it’s still Algebra III… but it’s still Mr. Meitin, so there’s no turning around. I don’t have a choice. He will not destroy me…
Mr. Baile still isn’t a comfortable teacher to be around with for Economics, but poking fun at his classroom dialect, especially when I’m bloody good at imitating him with Jordan (whom I share both Economics and Java). Even still, he’s a nice and fair teacher when things are in order, and passing his class isn’t as difficult as doing his wkbk pages and dealing with his weekly “assessments”, which we never know if it is either a test or quiz. Getting a B or A in his class shouldn’t have to be too difficult. Or maybe I’ve really turned into a bookworm these months.
Economics is a CP credit requirement, but it doesn’t need to teach me that reality is not fair. I’m not going to New York for college, I’m not going to SCAD for college, I’m not gonna live a life where high ambitions equals high life. High expectations are only dreams. Reality gives its lemons, and you just have to deal with them. I’ve done about everything I need to get ready for whatever college will bring, with HOPE and FASFA, and my possibilities are very high to get into... Augusta State. The last college I would consider- not because it’s a bad college, I doubt it is, college is college- because it isn’t SCAD or New York. But it’s as close to reality as I can get, and as many of my friends last year also concluded. I go to ASU, I get a Bachelors Degree in... Arts, maybe..., and probably have a heavy amount of money woes to not worry about because I’d have had HOPE to boot, and then some.
Bachelors Degree in... what, now? Theatre? Journalism? Game Design? Filmography? Game Design seems to be limited to SCAD, but it shouldn’t limit me from drawing like a ranty politician from hell. Whatever that means. I want to draw concept art for Naughty Dog, or Sucker Punch, or any game developers, because I know I would love it. Waking up on weekday mornings, go to work, and draw.
Or filmography? The Untitled SMiLE Project? Have you heard of it? No? Unless you’re on Facebook and you read my ecstatic posts about what’s up with the project? No? Good. The SMiLE Project is, obviously, from the brilliant Brian Wilson album, and revisiting the album, I’ve made a movie. In my imagination. Slightly on a Word document. But it’s something that’s got to get done. Putting all the pieces together, I feel like I have a grasp for filmography. This Senior Project is helping with the development process. And having a Sony Cybershot for Christmas, makes it more than welcome for amateur experimentation. If not the SMiLE Project, at least a name in YouTube or some major video-sharing network.
For the meantime, aside the “school” in high school, it’s nearing the end of my Senior year, yet I’ve already met new people all over again. And rediscovered. And concluded. Some people I just can’t deal with, or just don’t want any dealing with. I’m too busy to sit anywhere anymore on mornings nowadays because of work and studies, but when I can, I chat it up with some chaps I haven’t known too well, as well as a new guy from Ohio. I’ve changed where I sit during lunch now, because I get more entertainment and good memories outta chatting it up with Allen Harris, Claire Maile, and Kathy Quebedeaux. And I sit in the back of my bus. It doesn’t solve my bus driver’s deadly driving skills, but I’m many steps and stresses away from amateur children-be-middle-schoolers.
Sure, this seems like just a list of what I’m doing to change, and it sounds like I’m being scripted, but I’m finding more happiness and relaxation from these new maneuvers. I continue to learn what, and who, is real, and whatever won’t keep me bored ‘til the next bell rings. And when it’s not this, I’ll be alone, and alright with it. Because like I said before, this is about me more than anything right now. My mind and eyes are narrow and focused, and it’s the right call; my grades are steadily rising (kinda), and I have more time for myself after doing my homework on time nowadays. It’s a busy and steady life.
But it’s usually a life with the solitude of friends. Friends that have taken me places. Such as Level Up? A haven for people like me. Birthday party got me into having an all-nighter event with friends, video games, 32” 1080p TVs, and completing the single-player of COD Black Ops, and falling madly in love with Red Dead Redemption.
This period of writing eloquence isn’t lasting long. Mrs. McKean’s class, bless her heart, can have me write this the moment it comes up in her class, then finish it at home after completing my homework before 7pm. When was the last time I ever finished homework this early? If you’re a Facebook friend and have wanted to know what’s been up and why I’ve possibly been ignoring you, here’s your answer. My blog is slightly back for this evening. I’ll be back in the future. For now, and probably ‘til the end of May, my priorities are set: my Senior Project, my birthday, graduation, summer, ASU or not, and keeping my A’s and B’s where they should be. Even all A’s, like I keep telling myself every year. Mr. Meitin will more than likely make all A’s an impossibility, but if I can make it that far, to get an A in his class… I’ll have more than pride on graduation… I’ll have kicked his weak-teaching ass.
- Ant
-- I didn't proofread. Please don't judge me.
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