Some Blogs...

"When I see stars, that's all they are." - Some Nights by Fun.

The transitional period, where I float over the Rocks carefully, with little birdies tweeting softly nearby, waiting. Don't you dare let me fall again. Because this Ocean is very wide, and very deep. The blue birds and the black birds, the song birds and the swift birds. I awaken in the wake of the salty water Waves, and find myself sinking. The sweet Songs can't be heard from under the surface, and no Fish swims in this crashing and foaming Sea. But then again, God is the sun. And I can still see clearly the light of Day.

Brass blares and I cough and I spit. The barnacle being with no blood clutches my wet coat and lays me gently on the bunk. The Boat turns around and we're heading for shore. Rain, rain, goes away. Sun, sun, paints the day. With cap and Beard, cigar and smile, he drops anchor and curtails my stay. "Gotta go home", he says. "Be with life, for Earth needs your step". Soaking Isle of thick sand, sagging under overcast skies. I can hear music. Boop on the beep, and all that. Smoking, breathing lives, walking the boards and talking in hordes. I look around. I am sure the boat will be back again on another Stormy day, and with it, it's Captain.

Today was a major motion picture. The activities fair was interesting. I joined German Klub and SADD. Frau Tavani has always wanted me in the club because of my inherent, excellent German skills. SADD is Students Against Destructive Decisions like drinking and driving, texting and driving, smoking, etc. I am very passionate about this. We had thumb bands that said "RememberAlexBrown", immortalizing a boy who lost his life when he was texting and driving. It cut off my circulation for a while until my finger was amputated. And also, that smiley. And also, that traitor, across the way, reminding me of pain. Also, the monster Wolfman for whom I have major contempt and Luke Wilson fury. The GSA (Gay-Straight Alliance) tried hard to recruit me (they need boys). I would share my opinion on those females and their group, but it is controversial and far too Freudian to be taken seriously or nicely. They gave me Skittles and a business card, which remains in my breast pocket. I considered Photography Club. Come to think of it, I probably should have signed up for them. The hour we were given didn't allow enough deciding on my part. Perhaps the Gazebo Literary Magazine as well. I made jokes about how the singular man running the Business Club table could use his completely and blatantly clear table as a metaphor for a small business that could become a large enterprise. Seniors got in the way. Ultimate Frisbee's table was crowded with annoying and often rude people trying to join the group. It was insanely well-received. Then we all gathered round and were filmed, yelling "WE ARE PHOENIXVILLE!" I was in the front-most position, so I'll be seen by seers.

The Wolf, smiling, brings its steaming, soaking prey into black woods at orange sunset in its yellow teeth, frost water underneath. The Hunter stands, helpless, in the clearing, looking at the blood-smeared ground. He can smell the iron and feel the warmth of the pre-existing life. For whatever reason, he is struck with choking emotions at the picture. He knows that what the town calls "Animal", with all its flaws and faults, loves to be and deserves to BE. He takes off his cap, packs his gun away, and calls it a "Day". Because not many know how to resuscitate those delicate mammals with the white freckles. But he thought he could have saved her if he had just taken the shot and been off before the pack had time to organize and attack. But he thought he could have held her and have her feel human warmth, human love. But he calls it a "Day" until what they call "Night" falls. Then he lies in bed and calls out its name out to the clouds loudly, "LIFE. LIFE. LIFE."

Do I have to say much else? I can edit this and turn it into a real work of art. A genuine masterpiece. Mr. Hoffman says, "Love = to experience someone as real to you as yourself." I thought I loved this guy before. He's probably my favorite teacher of all time. So far, anyway. Animal Crackers are starting to make me sick. I am sick, after all. I am clogged into the infinite plane. Woah, that sounded cool. Death before decaf. I had a double espresso today. I did a guitar cover video today. I did well, with a couple of mistakes sprinkled on top of the Bon Iver cover cake. So many YouTubers do Bon Iver covers, it's ridiculous.

Uncle Brian is in the hospital with an enflamed pancreas and father lies around burning his throat open with ulcers and physical stress. Those are the Wilson updates of the day. Sound familiar?

I love you all so much. But that's probably the coffee talking. So, love the coffee back. You have no choice but to be trampled underneath the feet of my coffee-bean army. How unfortunate for you and your ICED TEA.

Love you. Goodnight. Hope you have a fantastic week.

Life from the bad seats.