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Arch-Angel

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  1. Arch-Angel

    Columbine Massacre

    By Arch-Angel,

    April 20th, 1999

    Two boys entered Columbine with guns and bombs.

    Lest we forget.




    A mourner moves slowly past the casket of Isaiah Shoels at the Heritage Christian Center. Isaiah, who would have graduated two months later, was buried with his diploma and in his cap and gown.

    The Victims, Both Injured And Dead

    1. Rachel Scott, age 17, killed by shots to the head, torso, and leg on a grassy area next to the West Entrance of the school.

    2. Richard Castaldo, age 17, shot in the arm, chest, back and abdomen on the same grassy area.

    3. Daniel Rohrbough, age 15, killed by a shot to the chest on the West Staircase.

    4. Sean Graves, age 15, shot in the back, foot and abdomen on the West Staircase.

    5. Lance Kirklin, age 16, shot with wounds to the leg, neck and jaw on the West Staircase.

    6. Michael Johnson, age 15, escaped from the grassy knoll with wounds to his face, arm and leg.

    7. Mark Taylor, age 16, shot in the chest, arms and leg on the grassy knoll.

    8. Anne-Marie Hochhalter, age 17, shot in the chest, arm, abdomen, back, and left leg near the cafeteria's entrance.

    9. Brian Anderson, age 16, injured near the West Entrance by flying glass.

    10. Patti Nielson, age 35, hit in the shoulder by shrapnel near the West Entrance.

    11. Stephanie Munson, age 16, shot in the ankle inside the North Hallway.

    12. Dave Sanders, age 47, died of blood loss after being shot in the neck and back inside the South Hallway.

    13. Evan Todd, age 15, sustained minor injuries from the splintering of a desk he was hiding under.

    14. Kyle Velasquez, age 16, killed by gunshot wounds to the head and back.

    15. Patrick Ireland, age 17, shot in the arm, leg, head, and foot.

    16. Daniel Steepleton, age, 17, shot in the thigh.

    17. Makai Hall, 18, shot in the knee.

    18. Steven Curnow, age 14, killed by a shot to the neck.

    19. Kacey Ruegsegger, age 17, shot in the hand, arm and shoulder.

    20. Cassie Bernall, age 17, killed by a shot to the head.

    21. Isaiah Shoels, age 18, killed by a shot to the chest.

    22. Matthew Kechter, age 16, killed by a shot to the chest.

    23. Lisa Kreutz, age 18, shot in the shoulder, hand and arms and thigh.

    24. Valeen Schnurr, age 18, injured with wounds to the chest, arms and abdomen.

    25. Mark Kintgen, age 17, shot in the head and shoulder.

    26. Lauren Townsend, age 18, killed by multiple gunshot wounds to the head, chest and lower body.

    27. Nicole Nowlen, age 16, shot in the abdomen.

    28. John Tomlin, age 16, killed by multiple shots to the head and neck.

    29. Kelly Fleming, age 16, killed by a shot to the back.

    30. Jeanna Park, age 18, shot in the knee, shoulder and foot.

    31. Daniel Mauser, age 15, killed by a shot to the face.

    32. Jennifer Doyle, age 17, shot in the hand, leg and shoulder.

    33. Austin Eubanks, age 17, shot in the head and knee.

    34. Corey DePooter, age 17, killed by shots to the chest and neck.

    Hate breeds hate.

    ~AA
  2. Arch-Angel
    What I always notice in emotional times is that you gain much experience from it and the solutions to solve them that will help you answer others when they ask for help.
     
    I just got asked too many questions and I felt a lot of stress. I didn't want to admit it, but I was stressing out from all the questions asked and it was driving me towards...
     
    When, blowing up like a firecracker.
     
    When I'm stressed, I become nostalgic (its a first time I used that word). I just think of times of the past but in the future.
     
    Like this:
     
    Small urban town, a couple of motorcycles, three of my guy friends, Bionigirl, a home, three meals a day, we rely on an alternative fuel so the economy is up, a 20 oz. Diet Pepsi only costs a dollar twenty-five, and every weekend, my friends and I go to the movies, and church on Sundays.
     
    That's what I call paradise.
     
    It gets me mad when I believe I'll never get that, and soon all I want to do is nothing but watch the TV (then I'm angry at commercials for taking so long) and be on my computer. But always, always, there is a demand for me to do something, like chores my sister is too lazy to do.
     
    I soon become a perfectionist. Yesterday, I spent all evening and most of the night looking for a Vista Theme for my Windows XP. When I downloaded the program, I never knew where to go from there. There wasn't any directions, but all the comments below from the people that downloaded it were saying "I love it!" a tiny complaint, but the good out-weighted the bad. That brought more frustration.
     
    A good night's sleep helped the storming mind I had calm down. I'm good now, but I'd rather not do that again. <<
     
    I finished cleaning my room so my mom could stop bothering me about it, and it sets a good aura. The sun's out, I'm not being bothered currently, and I'm listening to some hardcore.
     
    The song suggestions helped. Thanks guys.
     
    ~AA
  3. Arch-Angel
    The Summer Marathon is going along well. Two nights ago I had to run two miles instead of one because I missed Monday (sister and mom took it upon themselves to stay out all day <<) and I'm back to a regular basis in the SM.
     
    I just desected a frog. Apparently I'm the only one with the willpower to continue. Everyone else was shanking the frog but me (how ironic) and as soon as we opened up the stomach, I was basically by myself for the rest of it. Meh... Ah well.
     
    My hands smell though... stupid gloves... Gonna wash them at the end of this entry.
     
    A lot of my girl friends (not girlfriends) asked about Bionigirl. I've explained it so many times I can repeat it in my sleep, but she stays in my heart...
     
    I'll wait for you.
     
     
     
    Why must public school education become harder before the summer? Seriously.
     
    Oh yeah, Finals.
     

     
    Anyways, not much to note other than MCAS.
     
    Yes, had MCAS again.
     
    It was annoying. How so?
     
    Two reasons.
     
    1. Biology. Bombed the test like the class. I'll be taking it again next year, I know it.
     
    2. Kory.
     
    Kory is a good friend of mine. She's a Japanese loving white girl who's actions are that of a cat.
     
    More like a kitty.
     
    After I finishedbombed the test, she came up the my desk (located at the front of the class so there's room) to quietly annoy me but in a good way. We wrote notes on my notebook to each other, mostly me yelling at her for tying my shoes together, tying my shoes to my desk, and tying my shoes to together AND the desk. Needless to say people were looking to us for entertainment as I'm mentally tortured by her.
     
    And she kinda ruined my first doodle in a long time. Was making it for Bionigirl, hoping she'd see it on this blog, but there will be other times. Just to know she can read this makes me happy. Wish I could read hers but hey, at least I got this deal.
     
    WHOA!
     
    Guy in my class just now opened an air compressor a bit and I got up cautiously, heart beating and my body was still choosing which to use: The Fight or Flight fuction.
     
    That scared the crud outta me...
     
    Well, bell's gonna ring, bye y'all.
     
    ~AA
  4. Arch-Angel

    Deadly Soda...?

    By Arch-Angel,

    As you should all know, I drink Diet Pepsi. I love it. LOVE IT.
     
    But is it healthy?
     

     
    List of Diet Sodas with aspartame:
     

     
    That seems to be the my problem.
     
    And orginal Pepsi gives me weight I can't afford to have (Wrestling Coch says to stay with at least 5 pounds at most away from Weight Class, I measured 220 today. Before 215) so what CAN I HAVE?!
     
    Please comment! Not trying to get comments for the heck of it, I MEAN it!
     

     
     
  5. Arch-Angel

    Deaf

    By Arch-Angel,

    Based off mostly the flow from the beginning of "I Never Told You What I Do For A Living" by My Chemical Romance.
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Open up your mouth
    I just want to hear you
    Why'd I think I knew you?
    Continue talking, why don't you
    Hide your face cause
    The truth hurts, you know
    Going on, speaking slow
    But to hear what you say
    From other people
    Ruins my day
     
    Sometimes I want to stop
    Why lose my hearing for a day?
    I never want to hear what you say
    Ever again
     
    Only smack of coming out of the big mouth of yours
    Lord only knows how many wars
    You have caused
    How many hopes been shattered
    How many souls been battered
    From just the words that passed
    Out your lips
     
    Sometimes I wonder what handicaps are really missing out
    Because without a doubt
    They can't hear what you
    talk about
     
     
     
     
     
    ~AA
  6. Arch-Angel
    The last two hours were painful. Ever since last night when my sister told me all the things my dad says to people trying to defend himself, like he wasn't the bad guy in this divorce, I've been pent up in extreme anger. You know that, Lord.
     
    I tried calling Phil, but he was busy at an amusement park and was sore last night, so I didn't have a friend to talk to. I don't know why I didn't turn to You first.
     
    It started when after I got breakfast at Dunkin' Donuts, still reluctant to work with dad, I got inside his van with him waiting, and then he started talking about how I should be responsible about my work and waking up earlier because we can't get at the building at 10 AM, it'll take the job to do much longer than needed. I'm a man now and should be more responsible.
     
    That's where I snapped.
     
    I turned to him, with glaring eyes and told him he had no idea how angry I was at him. He's been telling people and my mom that she was the biggest mistake of his life. If that's the case, I'm a mistake. He never wanted me in the first place, I told him. He told me to give him my phone, and he used it to call my mom and he started yelling at her. At the same time, I was yelling at him. He nearly crashes the van turning around to get on the other lane to bring me back home. He tells me I don't know what he's been through, and I come back with just the same. He says I'm still a kid, and I tell him he just called me a man ten minutes ago. I scoff at his 'responsible' talk between.
     
    Through the yelling, he got fed up with me and dropped me off at the Mobil gas station, a little over a quarter mile to my apartment complex and I leave the van and he continues yelling on my, now his, phone. I shouted to him that my father died a year and a half ago, and I have lived without a father than one like him, then I shut the door.
     
    I continued crying as I went down the sidewalk, my apartment complex on the other side 1000 or so feet ahead of me. Mom picked me up at that moment, still on the phone with dad, who was still yelling. Under her sunglasses, you knew there were tears, and you could still tell with the way her voice was cracking to hold back the weeping. She explained over and over to him again why I was like this, saying I held in all these emotions for almost two years. After she finally got off the phone, she and I hugged and cried. I told her again and again that I was sorry. She told me last night that it wasn't important, that I shouldn't have thought about it, but I couldn't do it. I couldn't stand in his presence for more than fifteen minutes.
     
    She explained to me that dad loves me, and my sister, and her, then she corrected herself on the last part. She said to cool down and to pray to You, Lord. Thought I could get more out through typing than thinking, gets words out easier. Please, bring me peace. I hate having hate in my heart, especially since I know I love him and so desperately want to hate him. Why can't I forgive him like You have forgiven me? I thought I did. I thought I did many times, but the past is shown too many times in my face. This apartment, I live in this because of him. No social friends to hang with everyday, because I had to move. I'm staying back a grade because I transferred into the wrong classes thanks to a confused guidance counselor because I moved here.
     
    I have no peace when it comes to him.
     
    Lord, please... heal this wounded heart.
     
    Amen.
     
    ~AA
  7. Arch-Angel
    Right now, I turned off my music to type this.
     
    The past two days have been a bit difficult. Doing my homework, doing chores, hanging out with friends, and doing what I have to do on BZP.
     
    But everyday, exhausted or not, I sit down on this chair and listen to my music.
     
    I'm pretty sure not many of you listen to Hip-Hop, Rap, or R&B. Most of you have your,"92% of people have moved on to rap, if you're one of the 8% the listens to real music, put this in your profile/blog/signature."
     
    Now thats just rude.
     
    You see us hating you? No. We like a beat like you like a guitar. You say Rap and Hip-Hop isn't music?
     
    Its entertaining, it has emotion, it has lyrics. Its music.
     
    I say you stop hatin'. You can listen to your music, I'll listen to mine.
     
    "45% of people have moved on to Rap and Hip-Hop, another 45% still listens to rock. If you are one of the 10% that Party Like A Rockstar, put this in your profile/blog/signature."
     

  8. Arch-Angel
    We went on the highway to get to work.
     
    Flashbacks of the seventh grade flew across my head.
     
    Fred was a freshman going into sophomore year. He was an immigrant, and went to my church. Friends with my sister, and always cared. I barely knew him. I just heard he was the one Christian Brazi that people loved because his smile never left his face. He always asked how your family was, whether he personally knew them or not.
     
    He would be 19 or 20 today.
     
    I believe it was May 29th, 2005... He was coming home from church in Boston inside his friend's Eclipse. His friend was tired, as it was 1 AM, and he needed someone to keep him company to talk to and keep him awake, otherwise he slept at the wheel. Fred, like the good friend he was, died a good friend keeping his friend company.
     
    The night before, rain poured down hard like it did today in Massachusetts. The Mass Pike was extremely wet, and the driver was young and didn't care if he was going 90 on a 75 mph zone.
     
    They hydroplaned into a light pole, which tipped over, killing Fred almost instantly.
     
    The next day, I cried for a death for the first time.
     
    Since then, I've tried to be Fred. I do what I can to put a smile on one's face and remain serious in the end. Some of my close friends think it'll be my downfall trying so hard, but Fred was able to do it, and he's my role model.
     
    The dark clouds and the cold drops of rain only suited me.
     
    In Memory of Fred
     
    1990 - 2005
     
    ~AA
  9. Arch-Angel
    Two thngs I want this coming year.
     

     
    No, not a mexican wrestler! A replica of the World Heavyweight Title Belt!
     
    No it has no use except falsely exclaim to the world that I am a World Champion.
     
    Either that or the WWE Title Belt:
     

     
    Most likely the above pic... or the pic above it... I don't know! Either one! Help me choose!
     
    But what I will be saving up for this entire next year is a car.
     

     
    Okay, maybe not that Mustang.
     

     
    Not that Mustang either.
     

     
    Something like this.
     
    First, I must take Driver's Ed. Which will definitely help so I don't need to get my license at 18. Before that, my permit. Some of you might ask, "Why didn't you get it on your B-Day?"
     
    For a simple reason.
     
    I know the rules of the road, I know how to use a car. Turn signals, all that stuff. But I want to be 100% sure before I go ahead and grab my permit. Or not, I'll just go over to the RMV (or DMV you might call it there) and grab the permit easy after lon lines and the growing urge to kill myself. (RMVs will do that to ya. I know, sister's permit, LONG.)
     
    But the future holds no promises. And I have to work for everything. (Thats why I'll be earning 300 bucks a week full time during the summer!)
     

  10. Arch-Angel
    My dad is on his way here to my apartment to bring me to my hometown to visit. Got twenty bucks, decked out in American Eagle from Beanie Cap to Loose Jeans that were all on the clearance rack (Not all 'preps' are rich).
     
    I won't be able to post, do my blog attacks (going up the list of the latest blog entries) and post entries in my own blog until 8 or 9 PM (EST).
     
    Well guys, I'll be seein' ya. Hope to have a interesting day.
     
    ~AA
  11. Arch-Angel
    WARNING: If you can stand to read a Bones Entry, then you can read. I just hope I keep your attention.
     
    Forgive me for not blogging when it happens on the same day. Its a problem I've been trying to work out.
     
    Last Sunday provided me with a final challenge before I was able to fall into a deep slumber to be awaken by JAM'N 94.5 with the Morning Show. The challenge?
     
    Getting to sleep.
     
    I truly am sleep diprived. I'm used to going to sleep by 11PM depending if I'm reading my book(s). Unfortunately, I wake up with the rising sun at 5:40AM every weekday. Due to this lack of sleep, I'm constantly being yelled at by my mom for taking 'naps'. Why won't she let me sleep to my heart's content?
     
    Because my biological clock believe in no naps. Its either 'out like a light' or 'hammer to the light bulb' (same conspect more or less).
     
    Because of this fatigue, I was plagued yesterday by memory loss. That day, my mind refused to dig through the files of last Thursday and beginning of Friday. I spent the day during my free time retracing my steps. First off, Friday Night Smackdown! was a memory I could start at. From there, I went back with TV shows, conversations, and other things. Notice that I have no blog entry on last Thursday for good reason. I missed the bus and my mom gave up on bothering to bring me there when she failed to lift herself from her bed because she was up until 4AM. What a role-model.
     
    The memory blank haunted me during my school day as I tried to see what I missed out from my education that my teacher(s) agree I won't need in the future.
     
    Though I had no idea what I missed in Geometry, that became my least concern when we got our latest test back from correcting. I was given an A+ for my effort with a beauty of a 96 per-freakin'-cent. Only two questions wrong because the first one was a trick question I almost got. The second I did again in my head, I found out. I was impatient with it at the time, because it was the multi-answer kind of question. The state test, the MCAS (would have a funny acronym inserted here but I failed doing so), have questions like that. Only on that test I take no joke towards. This is my final year taking it and I plan to get it off my shoulders once next week comes along and the pracitally considered holy test is taken.
     
    Its about as overrated as Hannah Montana and High School Musical. AND THATS OVERRATED.
     
    Right now I'm learning about the Civil Rights Movement. Rosa Park's refusal to go to the back of the bus, the N double-A C P (NAACP), Martin Luther King Jr., Malcolm X, the Little Rock 9, and what captured me the most...
     
    Sit-Ins.
     

     
    During one of the sit-ins, the four above sat on the counter seats and asked for their orders, but immediately the waitresses rounded up and went to the back. Why?
     
    They knew what was coming.
     
    Prior to this, they called the media. News stations and newspapers were given news of a sit-in. They weren't complaining, they were about to get something big!
     
    'Why? A bunch of people sit where they are wrongly told not to be is suppose to be big?'
     
    It is when a mob of white people formed.
     
    They grew up in an environment telling them they were superior than African Americans, Latinos, and just about every race but white. They couldn't tell you why. When one tried, they admit that they fail to give a good reason as to why. Its a strange hate. Its what they've been told was right for years! It physcology.
     
    Well, during the sit-ins and the forming of the mobs, all around them were angry shouts, shoves, racist remarks, and just about everything in between but the serving of food. Soon enough, as the African Americans stayed seated without giving a word to them or turning around but only to see if something was happening other than the current harassment, it broke out into violence. The protesters were taken off their seats and surrounded by angry white men who took it upon themselves to kick, punch, and basically beat them to a pulp. After a while, the State Troopers who should outside the window watching everything came in and took his time to stop the violence. He rested the protesting African Americans, the ones who done nothing but refuse to move from their spots in the diner, and they were found guilty of disturbing the peace and were sent to prison for I believe 33 days.
     
    That kind of thing is amazing. Watching the video of them getting stomped, hit in the head, beaten, and not fighting back? I'm sorry, but if that were me, I would've died because I would've punched, kicked, elbow, judo-chop Austin Powers style everyone around before being overpowered and most likely shot between the eyes.
     
    The day of learning would continue on towards Health class where we are now learning about stress and how to deal with it. Physcial, mental, emotional, et cetera (<- thats right, no etc. because I want to show I'm smart!). Some healthy things to do under emotional stress is vent, talk about it, don't harm yourself (cutting yourself, smoking, drinking, drugs ((why am I taking this class if I taught myself this AND live by it since I was freakin', I dunno, 8?)) ) and one of the best ways is crying. Obvisiously I support that part fully in this entry. Find the purple-colored text where Nukora edited out a part. *Knuckles Nukora* We still cool though.
     
    During one of times as I talk to Josh who's next to me about the Chi in everyone currently, and the room in general with whats being discussed, I turn and see my friend, Kat. Quiet, still, looking straight ahead, and the sun from the window providing light in the dark room (using a projector on the board) reflecting off the trail of a tear on her cheek. This isn't the first time is cried in class. During my first days in there, she walked out of class in tears. I ponder in my head as to the stress in her life. It makes me feel quite sad, because I used to constantly be in her position. I cannot count the amount of times I started crying in class. Most notable one was back in the sixth grade, where my dad said, 'Its like you're not my son anymore,' before I walked out of the car without bothering with a goodbye and eventually the emotional bleeding in my heart couldn't hold any longer and it bursted. Didn't make it 45 seconds in English before Ms. Duseano helped me up and brought me outside to await a couselor. Reason I remember that was because that day I got the best emotional help to provide. A special ed. teacher whom's name was Paula just told me everything I had to hear. She explained that adults sometimes say things they don't mean. It helped me more than I can imagine. If she ever reads this, I hope she knows that I'm entirely grateful in what she did for me.
     
    Everytime I see someone cry, I remember that day almost vividly.
     
    Saint Patrick, Saint Patrick...
     
    Why are you a saint again?
     
    I only celebrate the Holidays I have off, and I'm Brazilian, I look good in green, but have nothing in green to where on a day with the wind chill about 15 degrees.
     
    Instead I think of drunk small men who I'd love to have a conversation with.
     
    Leprechauns.
     
    I love them. They remind me of myself minus the green, small stature, hat and shoes, usual pipe, and a crotch filled with gold coins (and the price of gold is very high up! What is it like, an onuce is about a grand?)
     
    And they are considered male fairies mind you.
     

     
    There you have it. This should change that campaign around a bit.
     
    "Kiss me, I'm Irish!"
     
    "Stand still, I'm Brazilian!"
     
    "What?"
     

     
    ~AA
  12. Arch-Angel
    Whoa...
     
    WOOOOOO!
     
    I am so sleep deprived, it isn't funny.
     
    Alright, I enjoy it a bit.
     
    Lemme see, that list...
     

     
    - No
    - No
    - Thats funny
    - Thats when you know you got it bad
    - Like today during the state test, where I fell asleep on the dictionary and had a few 5-minute blinks.
    - Metal activity, no. Focus is pretty low, but then again why do I care about my character's environment?
    - Come on, reality slapped me in the face and kicked me in the privates how many times? Depersonalization is not there.
    - *sniffles* Its Spring.
    - Diziness? Only if I move to quick. Like the beginning of this entry.
    - Thats a given
    - I'd love to just collaspe in the middle of the school hallway between the bells to see would pass by and who would laugh. Many someone would care along the way.
    - Then ask a question if you're confused! *sa-lap*
    - Of course not. The frequent on-and-off naps shoot that one down. Then again, I hope that pile of laundry is actually clean and folded.
    - I had one of those in the past. It ticked me off...
    - Nah
    - Wouldn't know
    - Thats funny.
    - High blood pressure? Nope. I hope.
    - My sister's in Brazil. I'll be fine for now.
    - I believe my hearing is better.
    - Thats a given. I think.
    - We all know about that memory lapse some Friday ago.
    - No nausea.
    - Eye twitch? Nope. Just pain around iris and I believe iris. Must be dry.
    - Repeat that reality rant.
    - I'm Brazilian. I'm gonna get a tan in the shower.
    - That hasn't occured yet.
    - Nope. Pretty sure I can talk waal.
    - Need weight loss, don't need gain. But its been controlled.
    - Severe yawning? Yawnings a given, but severity of it... Que?
     
    Alright, now the entry.
     
    The MCAS (Pronounced: M-cas) is the Massachusetts Conprehensive Assessment System.
     
    Pretty sure every state has one.
     
    I, again, am SLEEP DEPRIVED. Thats where this factors in.
     
    You see, I could take the multiple choice questions, as I exaggerate, on fire with you pouring alcohol on me and still pass.
     
    Unfortunately...
     
    We have the essay first.
     
    These are one of the few kicks to the privates reality dishes out I've told you about.
     
    The question was asking about writing about a work of literature where the protagonist must continue their life in a changed environment or something like that.
     
    The Hatchet by Gary Paulsen I was told was more middle school...
     
    Jumper by Steven Gould had just about every environment...
     
    I should've done Night by Elie Wiesel, but instead I do...
     
    The Cat in the Hat by Dr. Suess Yin/Yang Story by yours truly!
     
    ...Yes. It was four pages of me writing in thrid person making random quotes from the non-existant Chapter 6, page 94 or Chapter 17, page 267.
     
    Whats even better?
     
    I ran out of room! I wish I had an extra two pages to write my SECOND example.
     
    It took me about four hours, two of which I slept if you added it up (hey, when deprived of sleep, Webster's Dictionary is the most comfortable thing you imagine at the time) and I had the pain of my eyes up until I went to the library.
     
    I was joined by two girls at a table I randomly chose, one of which couldn't remember the names of the characters in 'Lord of the Flies' so I provided this advice.
     
    "Look to your left, make up a name."
     
    You see, the essay wasn't about what book but instead how you wrote the essay.
     
    Now that I wrote that, I should've done Hatchet. Would've had more space for writing streads of memory instead of a first-hand account.
     
    Well, at least its over. Better get some shut-eye (or just read as I lay on my bed, reason why I need the dang butterfly from Lunesta) before I have to chase the bus. We all remember that mess. Yes, funny, but not the kind of funny I wanna write down again.
     
    Night guys.
     
    ~AA

  13. Arch-Angel
    Right now, there is some kind of stress in my life I never before faced (never being in this position) and I have a lot of worry over a few friends of mine. Right now, I'd like it to be between me, Taki, Tee, and Bionigirl. A lot of it has to do with the very fiber of my being, and a lot of mental thought must be placed for this. All I ask for is some prayer and maybe a few song suggestion to help ease the pain.
     
    Thanks guys.
     
    ~AA
  14. Arch-Angel
    What a two days its been. I'll start with Christmas Eve.
     
    Christmas Eve
     
    RACING. Thats the one was that can describe me in the Natick Collection. I'm running around, trying to buy presents or gifts or whatever for my Ba-humbug! sister. Mom told me "Get a 50 Dollar Gift Card at Abrecromby or Hollistr or whatever" and see handed me two 20s and a 10.
     
    So after she butchered the names of two popular clothing lines, I went to Abercrombie & Fitch (Mind you, I may be a prep, but I hate A&F), got the Gift Card, use my mom's cell phone (still don't have my own, yet I'm 16. I see 7-year-old girls making calls to see if they can sleep over Jill's house or whatever...) to call my sister at our meeting spot, RAVE. Get there, 5 minutes later, I get a call. She's gonna spend another 15 minutes or so in there, so I bounce downstairs to CVS, look at a few fitness mags for a couple exercises, then go back up.
     
    Then I realize I haven't got her anything with my own money, so I'm looking through the little stands and buy a small bear and an ordament with 'I heart my sister' or something. Fast forward passed getting home and all, now I'm getting ready to go to my friend's house. I'm getting aggravated intensely because my sister is taking way too long and argueing with us every chance she gets, especially going over to my friend's house.
     
    Finally, after continuing to argue with her through the ride to his house, we get there. Suddenly she changes from pain in the neck to happy cheery Christmas goer. We have dinner, I go upstairs and play video games (mostly Kingdom Hearts which I just got, and wanted since the 5th grade) then gave a few presents to them, and finally bounced.
     
    Its about 2:30 AM, Christmas 'morning' and after annoying me, my mom and my sister convince me to open presents right there.
     
    I'll list what I got.
     
    1. Giorgio Armani cologne with after shave and shower gel, 'bout 70 bucks.
    2. Rubik's Revolution
    3. My first cell phone I'm gonna return for a Razr.
    4. Kenneth Cole new york After Shave
    5. American Eagle Watch
    6. Hollister Gift Card ($40)
     
    The first three weren't the best. I think I made my mom sad when I didn't like the cologne. Why? Its 70 bucks. I don't want her to spend that much money on me for cologne. I decided that I'm going to return it and use the cash to buy a jacket from Hollister.
     
    Sounds selfish to me, but Im going to make it up to her.
     
    The Rubik's Revolution, again from my mom, wasn't really so much a gift of love, but a gift as a joke. Plan to return it too, which didn't bother her at all (I think)
     
    The cell phone was from my sister, and she's okay with about anything... now.
     
    Christmas
     
    Went over to my friend's house, his dad served me and my mom breakfast (sister didn't bother to come, she had friends coming over), played Kingdom Hearts yet again. Basically all we did, I slept over.
     
    Yesterday, or Kwanzaa, or Post Aftermath Christmas, I dunno...
     
    Kingdom Hearts AGAIN, man the game's addicting... Well, my friend plays, I watch. I gave up after a while from giving him the control. He sleeps over my house this time, and guess what game we play til 1 AM? ... Yeah...
     
    Today
     
    Finally, after a boss that aggravates us too much, we have put down the control and turned off the game. I mean, the tab for the hints and tips is still on this window, but at least I stopped watching him play and see the storyline unfold to type up this blog entry.
     
    Going to go the Natick Collection again today. Maybe buy something with the gift card or something.
     
    Well, got to go get ready,
     

  15. Arch-Angel
    You wanna know what kept me up till 4 AM?
     
    First, the essay requirement sheet:
     

     
    Now, the essay:
     
    4/27/08 F Block
    Evil Fails in the End
    By Jonathan (WOULDN'T YOU LIKE TO KNOW)
    Few stories carry a protagonist into becoming the antagonist. These stories show that as much of a hero the protagonist may be portrayed as, the human instinct of committing sin shall remain until death. Death, likely appearing due to the protagonist committing sinful deed after sinful deed until eventually becoming a wicked person with no moral or known good; trying to emulate himself with true evil beings such as Satan and grin at their comparisons which they feel may or may not exceed him. The protagonist, now antagonist, views himself as a nonpareil, indissoluble being that is the pure entity of evil. If there was any good or righteousness in them, it would have rose and prevailed over the evil persona. Unfortunately, there was none left in Macbeth which led to his inescapable death.
    Although, Macbeth had no choice in the matter of becoming a cold, heartless being. The Three Witches cast a spell on Macbeth and Lady Macbeth, for though they could not change the destination which destiny has meant for them, they could alter the path.
    Macbeth is described as a valiant hero in battle by an injured solder:
    “But all’s too weak; for brave Macbeth (well he deserves that name), distaining Fortune, with his brandished steel, which smoked in bloody execution, like valor’s minion, carved out his passage till he faced the slave; which ne’er shook hands, nor blade farewell to him, till he unseamed him from the nave to th’ chops, and fixed his head upon our battlements.” –Captain, Act 1, Scene 2, lines 17-25
    (This heroic figure of Macbeth is changed.) Macbeth sends a message to his wife, Lady Macbeth, telling about his meeting with the Three Witches who have told him he would become Thane of Cawdor and later king of Scotland. Lady Macbeth, believing her husband lacks the evil inside to kill the king and take the throne, calls upon evil spirits to fill her “from crown to the toe top-full of direst cruelty.” –Lady Macbeth, Act 1, Scene 5, 49-50. When Macbeth comes and tells her that King Duncan is coming, she tells him that Duncan shall never see tomorrow’s sun for they are killing him tonight. Macbeth shows the first sign of changing character.
    Instead of staying loyal to his king and rejecting the thought of killing Duncan, he simply says, “We will speak further” in line 83 of Act 1, Scene 6. Later in Scene 7, Lady Macbeth and Macbeth converse about the proposed action until Macbeth is finally instigated by his wife to commit the assassination. While waiting for a bell to ring to signal Lady Macbeth finishing the preparations for Duncan’s death, Macbeth sees a bloody dagger leading him to Duncan’s room. (Macbeth’s mind is beginning to think more evilly.) Later, with the discovery of King Duncan’s death, Macbeth kills Duncan’s guards before they could defend themselves for being accused of murdering the king. When Macbeth is questioned about his actions towards the guards, Lady Macbeth calls him for assistance to removed Macbeth from any further discussion of he possibly murdering King Duncan. Later, Macbeth is chosen as King of Scotland for Duncan’s two sons fled in fear, believing Macbeth killed their father. The prophecy of the Three Witches is fulfilled as they told Macbeth and Banquo.
    Years pass under the rule of Macbeth and he remembers the prophecy of Banquo’s lineage shall be of kings. Macbeth proclaims a feast in honor of Banquo, and his heart surfeited with cruelty, plots Banquo’s death once it comes to his knowledge that he is going horseback riding with his son, Fleance. (Macbeth culls two men outside the palace gate.) He beguiles them to believe Banquo is the reason for their problems, and he tells them to kill him and Fleance during their ride. Compelled by Macbeth’s lie, they bring along a third man to assist them and successfully kill Banquo, but fail to kill Fleance. After hearing his plot only half done, he knew he could not do anything to kill Fleance as he must start his feast. During his feast, he is haunted by the ghost of Banquo, who is only visible to his eyes. After Lady Macbeth tells the guests to leave for his majesty is not currently in his right mind, they talk about the incident and he decides to see the Three Witches about securing his kingship.
    As he nears the witches, the second witch says, “By the pricking of my thumb, something wicked this way comes.” This statement, coming from one of the witches, confirms Macbeth is evil.
    He demands them to answer his questions. They answer every question he asks, but equivocate with each one. His evil blinds him from seeing that he has misconstrued the prophecies. (One of the prophecies was to beware Macduff.) Macbeth sends his soldiers to Macduff’s castle to kill his family and anyone related to him as Macduff was in England convincing Malcolm, Duncan’s son and rightful heir to the throne, to join him in overthrowing Macbeth. Macduff is told of the news, and turns his grief to a desire to avenge his family.
    Lady Macbeth has regained her conscience but is plagued with sleepwalking. During the sleepwalking, she sees blood on her hands of those who died to put and keep Macbeth on the throne. She is brought to a doctor who tells the gentlewoman who brought her that she needs a spiritual aid and not a physician. Lady Macbeth has become a good person plagued with past sins, which leads to death.
    Macbeth is told of his wife’s passing, and feels no grief nor sorrow whatsoever as shown here:
    “She should have died here after. There would have been a time for such a word. Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow creeps in this petty pace from day to day to the last syllable of recorded time, and all our yesterdays have lighted fools the way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle! Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player that struts and frets his hour upon the stage and then is heard no more. It is a tale told by an cool dude, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.” –Macbeth, Act 5, Scene 5, Lines 20-31
    Macbeth has lost all respect of what life truly is, to the point of calling it a meaningless story told by an cool dude and is out like a candle. There is no good or righteousness in Macbeth any longer. (With the loss, ignorance came.)
    (Ignorance brought his inescapable death.) Thinking that no man can harm him, not considering those born of caesarean section, and killed by a man born of caesarean section. The same man who vowed to avenge his family, Macduff, thus showing the end of evil is death for good shall prevail.
    In a world filled with evil, the good may die young, but have led a more prosperous life than the evil, no matter how long evil has lived.
     
    Now, grade me college folks!
     
    ~AA
  16. Arch-Angel
    Routine lives are usually what drives insanity. A man that works a 9 to 5 job in a cubical without any social life outside of his prison will damage his mental stability.
     
    Unless his daily life is either one of two things:
     
    1. Removal of routine and do something different which may change up every once in a while.
     
    2. Keep with a routine, BUT... the routine evolves differently every day.
     
    That's Number 2 for me- Rehearsal.
     
    Rehearsal for my show, '¡Bocón!', this week was nothing short of great. This was the final week for rehearsal before we were up on stage performing for our first our school, then our family + friends, and finally for the preliminary round of Festival.
     
    Everything is great from Monday to Thursday. Our performance level grew better each coming day. We felt ready for our performances coming up; so ready that it felt kind of repetitive.
     
    Friday, February 27th 2009
     
    Our first performance was in the morning during D Period for all the Spanish classes and my Acting class. The feeling backstage was one that basically said, "Here we go for the hundredth time, only with 300+ classmates."
     
    That was the only thing routine about this week.
     
    Soon after I walked out of the dressing room, the vice principal pulls me out of my crowd of amigos, grabs a social worker, and a cop.
     
    Son of a...
     
    I knew what this was exactly for too.
     
    Two weeks ago, were had to write journal entries. But these entries had to based off the assignment they gave us: Creative Writing. Write a short story. Simple, right?
     
    Then they gave us the category of fear.
     
    Even simpler. We all fear something.
     
    So I talk to my English teacher and told him that this was not foreshadow, but a legitimate fear. He said okay, and I figured that was that. I wrote my rough draft of the fear. I handed it to him and reminded him it was fear. He said it was a pretty good story, the fear being under siege. He understood. The fear was a school shooting. Nothing scared the ###### out of me more than Columbine or Virgina Tech repeat. What can be worse than facing a gun at a place you consider safe?
     
    So when, at the end of that week, we had to finish the story and type it up, and the only story I could give an ending to was the 'fear' rough draft. It gave a setting, a character I could use, protagonists, antagonists, the works. I'm a writer, I go for this. I've taken a Creative Writing class (any long-time readers will know THAT was "fun" up until the last day), and I love to read, so I believe I can write a suspenseful story if need be.
     
    I wrote it up, full two pages, double spaced in MLA format, and turned the dang thing in.
     
    Now here I am, a cop staring at me, a social worker thinking every sentence I say is a hidden message that I need help, my vice principal, and the principal.
     
    Apparently there is no precaution you can take.
     
    I explain everything in detail, answer every question, and I stayed honest. Honesty is the only way I get out of most of my problems. Even with what I said, even explaining that I told my English teacher before and after and had him proof-read the rough draft, they weren't convinced. I understand their reaction, I just don't understand the over-reaction.
     
    They called a 24-hour Psychology Service to psychologically evaluate me, to see if I was 'safe'. The vice principal goes to see my English teacher to see if what I said was true. The officer waits to spice things up.
     
    Apparently my English teacher has selective memory, because he recalls nothing of the sort WHICH DID HAPPEN. I didn't another word for my fear could be "under siege" if it wasn't him.
     
    The psychologist comes in, a woman, nice lady. By the end of the questions and conversation and she sees me as safe and fine and NO THREAT TO ANYONE. They call my mom at work asking to come over to see how I react around her with this information. She's got bills to pay, she sends my sister who is also my legal guardian. Everything is fine. my sister understands me. The psychologist understands me. They are dubbed the only sane people in my head.
     
    Cue Officer Pain-In-My-
     
    He says that he and another officer should go over to my apartment and search my room for weapons. I let them search my pockets, my backpack, et cetera. Now with no evidence, they want to search my room.
     
    I let them. I didn't want to go through the process of them getting a warrant if I refuse, and I figured the less I fight, the better I prove my innocence.
     
    Hard to do when you have a lying teacher, a social worker that like to put the exclamation point at the end of all my sentences, and a overly cautious hard-headed rude cop wanting to prove you guilty, thinking you're in need of mental help.
     
    He comes back, finds nothing. He even went on my bookface plus mypersonalspace.
     
    LOOK AT ALL THE EVIDENCE THEY HAVE AGAINST ME:
     
    1. A paper about my fear of school shooting, guns, and all that THEY are afraid of.
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Fascinating.
     
    So the psychologist is told to set up an appointment for counseling on Monday. My sister comes by (she went with Officer Rudemuch) and picks me up from school. I didn't go to one class, not one. I was aggravated.
     
    My sister and I talk in the car as she took me out to lunch at the local Brazilian Steakhouse. The one good thing from all of this was that I got closer to my family. We were all aggravated from this.
     
    I get home around 3:30PM and have 2 and a half hours to get back to the school to prepare for the night showing of '¡Bocón!'. Relax a bit, take an Advil in case the knees start acting up later on and to take care of the headache I got from the whole... thing, and took a shower.
     
    Went to the show, got make-up on, costume, played my role, took care of the set, had dinner that night with the rest of the cast, carried on.
     
    Perfect way to end a horrid day, and it was still a bad day.
     
    But the best memory I had that night was at the end of my show, my dad walked up to the stage and got Steve (our set designer, practically my American dad) to call me. The moment I walked onto the stage and saw him, I ran and jumped off the stage and hugged him as tight as I could.
     
    '¡Bocón!' is a story about the journey a 12-year-old boy from El Salvador trying to cross the border into Los Angeles after his parents are taken by the soldiers controlling the country with an iron fist.
     
    My family immigrated here, my distance families immigrated here, and more of my family with immigrate here. I know this story. I know the people who've experienced it. They are mi familia. To see something telling the struggle... what more could I ask for?
     
    Saturday, February 28th 2009
     
    Festival.
     
    It was a lot like Theater Exchange, except most of the schools kept to themselves because... it's a competition (not like it's a sport Oh freshman drama children...).
     
    When we went up to our play, the feeling of the play suddenly changed. It was serious atmosphere. This was what we prepared for since December. Time to pull out our best and aim for the prize.
     
    We received a heck of an applause after our performance, which, even though we got a good crowd reaction, still left us a bit nervous as to if we would move on to the semi-final round. We striked the set, went back to our dressing room, got changed and back into the theater to watch the last show.
     
    I get a call later on.
     
    My mom and my sister came in five minutes late. They couldn't see the show because the ushers outside wouldn't let them in. My mom cried, angry with herself. Sister told me she kept saying how this was the one moment I've been living for in months and when I wanted to show her, she messed up by being late.
     
    I wasn't surprised. Really, my mom's late for nearly everything. So at first hearing this news, I was fine.
     
    It didn't take long before getting under my skin.
     
    This was something I wanted to show them so badly. It was my pride and glory. No other show I could do could carry more inner meaning to me than this one. And the possibility of not going to the semi-finals to give another opportunity to see me was enough to shoot down my happiness.
     
    Rachael saw the look on my face and knew something was up.
     
    Leave it to a girl to crack me open. How do they do that? Nevermind, I already know.
     
    I confess the stress to her and she attempts to encourage me. She told me that '¡Bocón!' was awesome and their is no way we couldn't get into semis. Doubt still lingered in me and of course, she knew. She distracted me with her humor and by switching topics, and eventually they worked. I was distracted by it. Even more so when we went downstairs to the Festival Dance in the cafeteria.
     
    Flashing lights, deafening sound of songs, single chicas?
     
    All I needed was a Pepsi and I was halfway to being home.
     
    I danced mostly with Rachael. She has a boyfriend, and she knows I want her to only be my friend even if sometimes the Crush Rush lands on her. So with this in our minds, we didn't have any trouble dancing away; fast dancing or slow dancing.
     
    By the end of the dance, I think I danced with five girls, picked up two, did one group dance, and lost five pounds.
     
    The time came for the Award Ceremony, and everyone at the dance walked back to the theater. This was the moment of truth for all of us. The judges that saw our plays would now hand out awards for each person(s) that they felt deserved it, and at the end announce which three plays out of the seven that competed tonight would move on.
     
    The Award Ceremony was exciting, and each time you heard one of the judges describe the winner you felt either you were it or someone in your play was. There was a time where a judge described my character and some of my friends up front guessed me quietly, though I thought it wasn't me. I chuckled at myself when I was right and didn't get the award. It didn't matter to me. They can keep their awards. I just wanted '¡Bocón!' to move on to the semi-finals.
     
    When the time came for the plays that'll move onto semis, everyone grabbed hands. The first play was announced; Weston's For All The Wrong Reasons moved on! They wrote the play themselves, and included a perfect sense of emotion and comedy. You could give empathy to each character and laugh at the silly jokes they gave. But at the end of the play, your eyes swelled up with tears as you saw a man's life broken by his ignorance of responsibility.
     
    We gave an applause and held hands again.
     
    I prayed. I prayed hard. I begged and begged and pleaded and I don't think I stopped until I heard the next name.
     
    "¡Bocón!"
     
    We jumped in the air at the news. Everyone started hugging the other. I started thanking the Lord.
     
    We sat down and waited for the next name.
     
    Algonquin's The Underpants! My favorite comedy play I've seen so far is moving on! I don't care if they're competition, they're acting is great, their script is great, their execution of saying things that would make me start rofling on stage was great!
     
    The judges said good night and we got up and started doing what we been urging to do: hug each other.
     
    In the mist of hugging Rachael, I suddenly realized something.
     
    My mom and my sister will get to see my play. Everything this play has to say, I get the chance to say it to them again.
     
    I started tearing up again.
     
    Then I just started crying I was so freakin' happy.
     
    After clearing up the water works, I went around, joining the hug fest celebration with the rest of the cast. We go out to eat at Friendly's, have a grand time, and I finally go home with the good news.
     
    Monday, March 2nd 2009
     
    Snow day.
     
    Tuesday, March 3rd 2009
     
    Fifteen minutes before first period ended, I get a call to go to the main office.
     
    Sean warns me. The main office is the Principal's territory. No good news will come from it.
     
    I knew that. After what happened Friday...
     
    I get down there, and roll my eyes the moment I see our Friendly Law Enforcer, Officer Pain-In-My- through the office windows. I hoped this wasn't about Friday... again.
     
    Walk in, am introduced to the Principal's office, where four people at a round table sat waiting, and one empty chair waiting for me.
     
    I take a seat and the discussion begins.
     
    After realizing my existence on Friday, the Principal was informed by my grade office principal that my grades weren't good enough to be in this play. They let me perform on Friday and Saturday because they heard the news that day and there wasn't enough time to replace my role. I received four F's last semester, but my midterm grades were great. Even then, though I am showing improvement, I cannot be allowed to be in it.
     
    There went everything.
     
    I lost my motivation in school that moment. Whatever got my progress up, that was gone. I don't like school. Who does? I stayed in school because I met these people. I lost the people I love since coming to this town, and I finally find people I can love. I find something that allows me to send a message to the community, to the world, and it has closer meaning to me than anything else I've found on stage. Being in that play made me drive for better grades. Made me drive to maybe make a career out of it. Be an actor on stage? Perform in theaters in Boston? Perform on Broadway? Perform on the road? Perform in a movie? Perform in a award-winning movie? Perform in an Oscar-winning movie? I always wanted a little golden man on a mantel in my living room.
     
    But most of what shot me in the heart was the fact I'll never be able to perform that play for my mother. Ever. Because they can't see the reason I went from failing four classes to one class is because they're looking at the person I was before I changed with this drive.
     
    The thought of it lights a fire in me. An angry fire. NOW I want to shoot somebody!
     
    I lost everything that drove me in the school, so did you think I cared what came out of my mouth? I kept my logic up as I insulted each one that played a role in this since Friday.
     
    "I got a cop outside the door that thinks the slightest twitch I make means I'll shoot up the school, a principal that thinks I'm obsessed with Columbine and Virgina Tech, a English teacher upstairs with selective memory as to what material he reads, a vice principal that didn't know a thing about me and tries to be my friend, a social worker that likes to put the exclamation point at the end of every sentence I speak, and this all rounds up together with me getting kicked off the one thing that's been driving me to do better in school, friends that'll believe I've betrayed them, still going to an English class being taught by someone with amnesia, and random psychiatric counseling sessions because you all think because I have a 'troubled past' which means I could possibly eventually pose a threat to this school! I don't have any problems in my life right now until you guys saw me and tried to fix a problem that wasn't there. Congratuations, you've made a problem. You got rid of my motivation, got rid of my social life, and gave me unnecessary counseling."
     
    They asked if I wanted to see the social worker. I told them the last person I wanted to see was him. They believed I wasn't in the right frame of mind to go to class and see the English teacher that started it all, and they were right. I would've started throwing words at him that would've left the man bruises. I would've lashed out harder and faster than I ever have had before. For all I knew, I would've punched the man in the jaw and simply walk out of the room as if nothing happened.
     
    They asked again if I wanted to see the social worker.
     
    "I don't want Mr. (social worker), I want my God!"
     
    Figured the only thing at the time that could give me any comfort was a Bible.
     
    They said they had to leave me with a trusted adult until they felt I was calm enough to go back to class. Fair enough. No one popped up in my head that was available, so I got...
     
    The accursed social worker!
     
    My vice principal was walked in with a Bible after spending fifteen minutes in SW's office. Spent the next hour trying to read various parts of it and commenting back on his questions. I couldn't get a peaceful moment out of it unless he walked out of the room to handle other business.
     
    Eventually I was able to calm down enough to prove to him I could go to class without having an incident.
     
    Walking down the hallway where most of the Drama Company gang hangs out isn't fun when they all know you're out of the show that means the world to you.
     
    Rachael grabbed me yet again and I vented to her what happened.
     
    After school, I went home and by force of the school because of Friday's incident and the Social Worker dude, I was brought to the freakin' psychiatric counseling. More venting. I rambled on and on about the day and how much Drama meant to me, and how it was gone. After a half hour, I got a slip again proving I'm sane and I I was to give this paper to SW.
     
    I left the building, headed over to the Dunkin' Donuts next to it, ate a Turkey-Bacon-Cheddar flat bread and a Diet Pepsi, and waited for my sister to drive me home.
     
    I got two or three hours of sleep that night.
     
    Wednesday, March 4th 2009
     
    I woke up feeling stranger. I felt lost, yet on a set path. My eyes burned with each glance at light. I knew today was to be a busy day. Had paperwork to hand out.
     
    I grabbed my shades and didn't bother shaving, and headed out the door.
     
    Once I got to school, I made a bee line through the drama kids and only stopped for one hug from Vanessa.
     
    I went on a hunt for the social worker. It took 15 minutes and I couldn't grab breakfast because of it, and I handed to paper of proof I went to the unnecessary counseling.
     
     
     
    After school I went to the rehearsal to watch the show for the first time offstage.
     
    I felt uneasily when my replacement went up on stage as my character. He doesn't have the happy loud-mouth father figure I wanted my character Luis to have. He's a great actor, one of the best we have, but I've worked on this character for three months... he had until March 14th.
     
    By the end of the play, I was in tears. Not because of the fact I wasn't onstage, but the message was sent to me rather than me helping to send the message.
     
    It felt so strange being on the other side of the theater...
     
    March 5th skipped to March 14th 2009, Drama Festival Semi-Final Round
     
    After a near-hour bus ride to Andover, Massachusetts, we get off and head into our assigned classroom, which is basically given to us to put in whatever personal crud we feel necessary to leave in there.
     
    I didn't have anything so I took the gallon of water they gave us and the tiny paper cups and had a shot row. I felt kind of dry.
     
    After watching six plays in a row including our play (Beyond Tolerance, ¡Bocón!, forgot the name of this one whoops, Tom Jones, History & Poetry, and Sakuntala), go to a 'dance' (it was horrible, the cafeteria had a glass wall thing, lighting the place with sunlight and we wanted something along the lines of a Under 18 Club? Me and about fifteen other actors/crew went outside and played extreme catch), we went back into the theater to attend the Award Ceremony.
     
    The Award Ceremony was full of tension in the air. It seemed all friendliness is gone. It's Finals or bust. Happily we got quite a few awards for our cast and crew, all of whom deserved it. The look on their faces when they were completely bewildered they got anything built up the happiness you had for them, mostly because it was entertaining to see.
     
    Though through each chosen actor and technical crew member that received an award, you got the build up of nervousness. Did our play pass? That school's play was amazing, and I wasn't watching me on stage. Oh boy...
     
    Finally.
     
    The time came.
     
    We held hands once again. I had a corner seat and had to cross my arms yet still reach my friend Harry behind me. Dang near start choking myself trying to hold it.
     
    "And in no particular order, the first play that will go on the Final Round of Festival is...
     
     
    ¡Bocón!"
     
    We leaped into the air. It was Hug Fest '09 from there.
     
    "And the second school to go with ¡Bocón! to the Final Round is...
     
    Sakuntala!"
     
    We got up and applauded Cambridge Rindge & Latin School onto passing Finals. The judges said good night and everyone went right back into the hug fest. The excitement and happiness we felt overwhelmed some to tears, but the ear-to-ear grin on my face was good enough.
     
    March 21st, 2009
     
    The last week, I was feeling cold.
     
    Not an emotional cold.
     
    Not a "I have a runny nose" cold.
     
    A "The very blood the run through my veins has been laced with icicles" cold.
     
    I was shivering. I wore multiple layers in weather that should only require a sweatshirt.
     
    The touch of anything remotely cold sent me shivers so strong you could hear the chatter of my teeth across a room. My sister and mom have noticed I ran light and high fevers throughout the week, and something wasn't right.
     
    I wore my thinsulate gloves, my heavy jacket and my sweatshirts just to feel comfortable as if in room temperature. At night, I bundled up on thick blankets whenever I went to bed, still shivering, and woke up in cold sweat.
     
    After serving my Saturday School detention, my sister picked me up.
     
    When my sister picks me up, there is always consequence. If she has to pick me up, there will be no such thing as going straight home, but instead a trip across the county of Middlesex, Massachusetts.
     
    I'm still bundled up in my sweatshirt and jacket, and holding even a can of soda that was in the freezer can make me feel like I'm naked in a blizzard. So when I go into the Liquor Store and buy a water bottle and Diet Pepsi, wait in car as my sister is getting fitted in a Bride's Maid's gown, I turn on the heater.
     
    When I was finally relaxed, she came back and turned off the heater, telling me it was too hot. The moment she rolled down the windows and we were up and running, I started the shivering. After a while, she sympathized with my chills, turned on the heater to guard me from the cold wind of the window she kept down on her side.
     
    Suddenly, my vision changed. It was as if the sun was behind a cloud the entire time that bright day. The road lit up. It started growing shades of brightness and things became white. My nausea grew and I started taking deep breaths, thinking it would help (it didn't). I was demanding with what I could for her to pull over. She parked the car, I got out, and my stomach made it's final turn before I spilled.
     
    It was mostly water. I know you were curious.
     
    My sight was back, and some people stared in the Walgreen's parking lot.
     
    I honestly thought we were on a highway, not in-town. My vision at the time didn't help.
     
    After calming down and my sister calling my mom as she went inside Walgreens to buy me Ginger Ale and Chicken Noodle Soup as directed, we decided to wait for my dad. After all, he lived in the town and he was the closest responible one who knew what do to (mom went on a Church retreat). After some discussion with him, we figured we let me off at home and see how the day went out.
     
    Three or four hours later and a few Advils, I felt good enough to go out with my dad for dinner.
     
    I felt as if I just woke up from bed, and dragged my feet as we walked in the mall. The dinner was simply half a glass of water, an untouched glass of Diet Pepsi, and Calm Chowder (my favorite).
     
    When we walked back to the car, I felt nausea again, but it ended up with nothing.
     
    I go home, go to sleep, and hope Sunday will tell me the sickness is gone.
     
    March 22nd, 2009
     
    It was 3AM when my sister woke me up. She said I was going to the emergency room because as she came in to check up on me, my fever each time was a different temp, all hot.
     
    Now, I hate hospitals. I hate the ER. Not because of personal reasons, but financial reasons. We have no health insurance, and keeping my health is a priority for me sometimes, simply so I don't have to give my parents this bill to worry about.
     
    But what can I do when I have orders from both mom and dad?
     
     
     
    In the ER, they draw a vile of blood and test that for... something. I get the usual round of questions sent at me, and with Advil PM in my system, caring is hard enough.
     
    An X-Ray showed I had a beginning stage of pneumonia and was told the most likely reason of my misery was probably Mononucleosis. The doctor said she felt 99% sure, but I needed a Mono Spot Test to confirm. I'm prescribed a 5-day antibiotic medication for the pneumonia and we were off by the crack of dawn.
     
    March 24th, 2009
     
    I see my actual doctor, the pediatrician who been taking care of me since I tiny enough to punt. At that point, I felt much better. Headaches and fevers don't come and go, and I feel at 100%. He checks all the symptoms one should have for Mono and cleared that I had another infection and the antibiotics I took for the pneumonia took care of both.
     
    What a relief.
     
    March 26th, 2009
     
    The first day of Finals. Not much to say other than the John Hancock Theater needs Pepsi.
     
    The excitement of Finals is brought up to a point where making friends with other schools seems easier. It was without tension, but no one can be sure there won't be any once the Final Award Ceremony begins.
     
    Unfortunately, I'm not in the play.
     
    But look, I'm still with the people I love. I have them, I have my grades up, and I have my self-respect. I have who I am, and it is who I want to be. Life isn't easy, I still have my pressures, sure, but who doesn't? Not like tomorrow I won't face another batch, and then another. It's my life, and though I write it down in this blog, I'm not complaining. I want these memories. I hate when I come to this chair and type things I have vague memory of, so what I have now is what I am. These are my memoirs, my journal, my biography, and my portal into deep thought of my own reality.
     
    And I wouldn't trade my memories for the world.
     
     
     
     

    Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. 
    Try again. Fail again.
     
    Fail better.
     

    -Samuel Beckett 
     
     
    ~AA
  17. Arch-Angel
    I've had such a crazy day! OMGosh you would not believe!
     
    ...Alright, I'm kidding.
     
    This morning I was glad to the morning routine with some conscience of what I was doing. Hopped on the bus, with George finally back from his vacation to Florida, and head to my educational prison =D
     
    Biology... Oh, Biology...
     
    Sheep hearts would seem so much more in use if they were keeping the sheep alive, but alas, my education requires having a split open heart and observing the ventricles, arteries, atriums...
     
    Oh joy.
     
    In Transportation Tech, we are making rockets. >=D With our own design too. So I'm making my own kind of wings, some modifications, et cetera. Unfortunately I can't add more than one engine in it. Well, we all have our intentions...
     
    Lifetime Activities provided some fun with softball...
     
    Health was quite pathetic.
     
    We are now on abusive relationships. We watch these videos of scenarios where teen relationships have gone abusive with all the following: Physical, Verbal, Mental, and Emotional.
     
    The acting on most of them was HORRIBLE. And the scenarios themselves just had Big Josh right next to me saying, 'These guys gone no game.' Which is completely true.
     
    (Then again, most of you don't either *dis!*)
     
    I finally went to lunch after such boredom requires an amount of food in mai bellie. Thats when I was told my friend Ziggy is suspended because two days ago he brawled with a guy named Armando (who actually sold me his Sony Noise-Canceling Headphones which I'm wearing right now listening to music. Armando was getting a bit too close with his girl who are having a lot of complications, but obviously still love each other. Its a long story... plus somewhat legal trial.
     
    Well, Ziggy missed Craps in Geometry yesterday! Craps is a casino dice game, and yes, you do gamble. Wiki.
     
    Craps took place yesterday. And by the way, I rock at Craps! I took my chips off 9 before the die rolled 7! People hated my luck in Craps! There was one point where I went, 'I feel a disturbance in the Force' and Oscar said, 'Me too' and wouldn't you know it?
     
    A 7!
     
    WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
     
    My classmate Jimmy is the guy you see in movies who loses his entire bank account through gambling. He put everything down on a number and lost everything. He asked people to donate to the 'Jimmy Fund' and when he accidentally dropped his only chip (which he won later) he screamed and asked someone to pick up his house.
     
    XD
     
    I love craps. But only for fun.
     
    DON'T GAMBLE.
     
    Well, missing school tomorrow, but unfortunately I must rest my tortured body (long embarrassing story) on the mattress.
     
    Long time since I made an entry huh? And its not my ordinary format of a blog entry either... hm...
     
    ~AA
  18. Arch-Angel
    Tomorrow morning (or morning), I begin my session of school in the town I haven't been in for 5 long, emotional years.
     
    I am nervous, but I can't wait.
     
    Excited is the word.
     
    My delima is getting back home. I live well over a highway mile from the High School and if you read 'Trapped on Route 9' I can't walk or bike on it. But I've faced traffic before, shoudn't be too hard to dodge.
     
    I have no new notebooks, the same work from the last High School I attended stll inside my bag, and a fairly large hole in my backpack. Doesn't bother me much aside from the notebooks. And the lessons. If they kept up with my school (which I don't think my chances are well) then I face the problem of missing a freakin' week of school since moving.
     
    Oh yeah, its good and bad for me.
     
    Well, 6 AM is my calling hour. Bye.
     

  19. Arch-Angel
    Today and yesterday couldn't have been worse in the condition of my body with this cold/fever plus sinus.
     
    Yesterday was such a mess, plus me not being able to call Barnes & Noble for the answer as to whether or not I got my job annoyed me as well because I was KO'd on my bed. My nose has been leaking like a faucet for the past 56 hours. Last night, I was up until 1:40 AM doing a history project for the sake of actually passing, and having to wake up at 5:40 AM the very same morning.
     
    Today, though, had an unhealthy atmosphere. Sure I got to talk to my friend more, but other people decide to push me to my limit. Let's start with Mr. Foley.
     
    Mr. Foley is almost stoic in his speech and expression, if not completely stoic. He's fair in just about every matter he's involved in.
     
    Today, we had second lunch, where we go to for a half hour in the two hour block and do our lunch thing. I'm in an on-again, off-again conversation with a Marine who had his stand set up in the middle of the Brazil/Puerto Rico side of the cafeteria. I talk to him somewhat, et cetera et cetera, he makes two girls down forty knee push-ups (I was going to tell him to do the elevated ones), and so I forgot that after lunch, we'd spend the remainder of the period in the Library on the other side of the school.
     
    ...Of course, I forget, make it down to the hall, and realize that I'm suppose to be in the Library. Head over there, middle of the introduction the librarian is giving for our research project (I'm researching Alcohol and the physiological affects on the human body) and we get started on our research.
     
    You know when you need to blow your nose and you rather not do it in the class because it'll sound disgusting (and you're insecure that way and hate the fact)? Well...
     
    Fifteen minutes in, I need to blow my nose because the faucet is on again. I come up to him, he obviously thinks I was going to cut class due to the fact I was late, and doesn't let me. Why come to class late by five minutes and not cut class? If you're late, might as well go all out. I explain myself as to why I was late, doesn't buy it, then he tells me that this is the only time I have to research the project because he doubts I'll do it at home (I don't blame him), and doesn't let me.
     
    I asked the librarian if I could have a tissue, and I wipe my nose, nevertheless, the faucet is still on.
     
    An hour later, English is going smoothly. My teacher talks about the research paper (trust me, this won't be the last one coming) we're doing on any topic we'd like to know more about. I'm thinking Rodney King Riots or Martin Luther King Jr. I'm leaning towards MLK.
     
    The class is in freedom of discussion and this couldn't-be-more-of-a-apathetic-little-brat (and Mr. McNeill calls her a brat openly to the class, and he's not wrong) and I get into some kind of argument.
     
    At the very end, she shoots back with, "Get a life."
     
    There isn't really any good comeback to that I can think of without shouting at her or giving her a slap to the face her parents should've gave to the spoiled girl when she was younger (maybe then she'd have SOME respect).
     
    "I had a life, "I said, "I had a girlfriend.... and then she left."
     
    "And then she left, " she says, rubbing the cold, hard fact into my soul like a wet towel of acid.
     
    I silence myself. My mind rushes with thoughts of Bionigirl and how much I miss her. I tried to ignore the pain, continually encouraging myself that someday I'll talk to her again.
     
    Love just doesn't work that way.
     
    I throw myself in deep thought to drown out the world, yet notice the watering of my eyes, ready to unleash the heavy tears inside that have built up like a dam. It hurts thinking of it right now.
     
    Karley. I miss you.
     
    Hold on, watering again...
     
    ###### its so hard to control.
     
    The bell rings, and it signals our cell gates being open and our prison freedom is granted for seventeen and a half hours.
     
    I wait outside on the steps for the bus to come, because George is usually late and the guys just stand around and talk. The usual insults, comedy, nothing we truly mean, and I talk with this freshman kid who runs his mouth too often and purposely offends. As I'm bagging on him, one of the guys on the bus, I believe his name is Bryan, starts bagging on me about me being immature. Of course I know what he means. I'm usually immature to the guys (Josh and Phil) because they can get you in that care-free comedic mood. Bryan, on the other hand, likes to start arguments and uses his fists to add his exclamation point. He provokes me happily, even saying, "Wanna fight?" which I decline, because thanks to MLK, I'm trying to avoid getting into any heated brawl. He continues his insults, his comebacks that add nothing to his argument, and smiles the entire time.
     
    Thing is, I bet he could beat me. I know I have all the motivation to take him on without question, but I'm sure he's shoot his fists faster and harder. Remember, I'm a grappler/wrestler, not a boxer.
     
    I sit at the front of the bus, away from him. The seats wouldn't provide enough room to fight him if one did occur, so I avoided him. I talk with George and me and this other girl Sam talk about our 'Back in da day' time, meaning the 90s. It started with a Magic School Bus reference, and went on from there.
     
    I just had some chicken soup, taking a break from writing in this entry. Feel much better.
     
    Thursday is looking good now. Hopefully it will.
     
    ~AA
  20. Arch-Angel

    Flunking

    By Arch-Angel,

    Harmony/Melody of Something by The Beatles
     
    This song goes out to anyone who suddenly, somehow in our mature ages (of near adulthood), feel like this for someone again. Something we haven't felt since our pre-teens.
     
     

    FLUNKING
    by Arch-Angel
     
    How do you write a song for this girl?
    When no Shakespeare can do her justice?
    How do you write a song that shows them...
    They say love is easier than math,
    But why am I failing this class?
     
    It's like my heart has never known,
    What a love like this can do to it,
    Do you have any idea what you do to me?
    They say love is easier than math,
    But why am I failing this class?
     
    Stop asking me where this'll go,
    I have no clue, God only knows
    Will I take her out to dinner and a show?
    Time will tell, 'cause I don't know
     
    It's like I'm back to age twelve,
    Because I don't know if she likes me back,
    I'll write her a song instead, to see if I go on in her head
    They say love is easier than math,
    But why am I failing this class?
     
    ~AA
  21. Arch-Angel
    NOTE: Suggestions of 'Song of the Day' are much obliged, so if you have a song thats clean or mostly clean of swears and/or profanity (rap/Hip-Hop/R&B allowed of course), than PM it, and it might become 'Song of the Day'. INCLUDE WHY YOU THINK IT SHOULD BE SotD.
     
    This song is perfect for the moving-on-after-rough-break-up time in your life. Then again, I never encountered those. The reason I love this song is the vocals, rhythm, basically everything.
     
    Ladies and gents, the song played by the band we grew up with giving us hope in one of their previous songs, 'Move Along',
     
    Swing, Swing by All-American Rejects
     
    ~AA
  23. Arch-Angel
    Today has started well. Right now I'm on my homeroom teacher's laptop and everyone is turning in their 'Catcher in the Rye' essays and and books (she's an English Teacher) and its become a mess she's trying to order out.
     
    Hi Shanna!
     
    Ah, this is a fun conversation between her and Ms. Darcy.
     
    Having a Crunch Bar for breakfast. Would be more enjoyable if Pat wasn't groaning about his broken leg plus torn ligament.
     
    Ms. Darcy, do you have something to say?
     
    I am glad to be back.
     
    She was gone for a while.
     
    Well, later I'll edit this and bump it about my day. Good so far, but with English in the end, could end horribly. Ah well, I'll enjoy it while it lasts.
     
    After homeroom, I went to Biology to learn more about the human digestive system.
     
    What fun.
     
    Transportation Tech... just... no...
     
    Lifetime activities on the other hand... 8D
     
    We convinced the teach to join up with another class and play something like 'Medic' (dunno if you ever heard of it, but I'll explain if asked) but...
     
    We decide to go outside to the turf field to play 'Capture the Football'. Yes, it is 'Capture the Flag'.
     
    I take the first dive into enemy territory, and of course I'm not only tagged but taken down by the leg BECAUSE SOMEONE DECIDED MY SHINS LOOKED LIKE AN UNPAINFUL PLACE TO ATTACK.
     
    So I grab the guy and make him my crutch as I limp to the jail.
     
    I get back in the game, et cetera, et cetera, we lose because we're the cool kids and they actually tried to have fun (if you know you're gonna fail at having fun, might as well talk to your girlfriends <<) and they made everyone do some number of push-ups. 5 if you thought you did everything to could in this game, 10 if you thought you could've done more, 20 if you stood around without a care in world/game.
     
    I did 5, called it a day period.
     
    Health class, the usual talking, and I think I might've done well on the quiz... hmm...
     
    Oh, and Mozilla Fox of Fire is telling me 'might've' isn't a word.
     
    As we say in Boston, especially to the Yanks...
     
    Removed- Nukora
     
    Just kidding, I put that there. Probably don't even have the right color...
     
    English gladly flew by like a sparrow on drugs, and I said loudly, proudly, and obnoxiously...
     
    Free at last, free at last! Thank God Almighty, we're free at last!
     
    And your friendly neighborhood American Eagle + Hollister wearing prep who hates stereotypes (grills Nukora and the rest of you) left the building (through the side entrance as usual) and proudly took in the...
     
    SPRING BREAK
     
    The day took its time. I come home, chill on my butt in front of the computer wasting life... took a body-forced afternoon nap (hate them too, so uncomfortable) and went out with dad to take full advantage of watching 'The Forbidden Kingdom'.
     
    7.1 out of 10. It wasn't great, but it was funny...
     
    Though in the Jackie vs. Jet scene I couldn't help but notice the amount of openings I would've taken and counters... Professional wrestling will do that to you.
     
    Went to Uno's, filled me up, came here, got yelled at by Robo switch I yelled back and defeated him with the 'You started it!' finisher!
     
    Saw half of 'Gone Baby Gone' with the talkative, constantly ruining the vibe the movie tries to set in mother of mine and sister who gets confused as often as my mom. Had to explain everything to them.
     
    Oh, and 'The Forbidden Kingdom' depicts South Boston in a funny matter. The bully dude was technically a greaser.
     

     
    You want to know the REAL Boston?
     

     
    Bottom line. Done.
     
    Well, I have a Song of the Day, but I'll save it for tomorrow.
     
    Also, expect tomorrow to be with much sorrow. Another memorial.
     
    ~AA
  24. Arch-Angel
    I missed school today for the sole purpose of going to the doc's office.
     
    Painful ten minutes... then I find out I'm going to have to meet up with a Doctor Kennings, a surgical doctor, to check up on my condition at 1 PM this Friday.
     
    Do you know how my grades are?
     
    I appreciate my education. I love learning. I especially History class. How everything happened that made our world what it horribly is today. The class in general of Geometry is loads of fun and entertainment (not to mention I wanna play Craps again). English class provides Mr. McNeill's point of view on the world where he can make sense of a lot of things and add a good mix of seriousness and sarcasm/dry humor in between (even if he can harshly insult, which I blew off him calling me a 'da(ng) fool' the other day because I didn't do my rough draft of the research paper) And Lifetime Activities (which is basically gym only playing games you'll never play in life much if at all again) where we're doing softball. And I love baseball... D=
     
    Health class is never missed.
     
    Neither is Bio...
     
    Anyways, missing school tomorrow too. I can't sit down without pain. Its an infection on my tail bone, I'm not gonna get into details. <<
     
    I get myself a Diet Pepsi, drive around a bit with sis, and come home, play some Mancala with her, which we found is a great game to spend time together because we use to play it when we were younger.
     
    We spent plenty of time home and then came the time to grab some take-out because their's no food to make at home. I convince my sister to get Pizza Hut, and as we wait, we talk to the manager there (who's at the desk) and get into conversation with him. Tony, the manager, tells us about his break-up with his girlfriend and how he's gonna make her life miserable after she breaks up with him only because I got a new job here at the Hut of Fattening Cheese and Sauce (plus stuffed crust!).
     
    He's got it all planned out... quite amazing...
     
    Sister thinks he's lying though... whatever.
     
    During the end of his story, girl and her mother walk in. I already see the girl got revealing clothes, but I keep my eyes away from checking her out. I demanded my male hormones not to look at her that way. Why?
     
    I always have Bionigirl on my mind.
     
    I hope she's one of those four guests that are usually hanging around in this blog... I really do...
     
    Karley, always remember, I love you.
     
    Peace out BZP...
     
    ~AA
  25. Arch-Angel

    Get A Girl?

    By Arch-Angel,

    My heart aches a bit right now. Since I've moved, I haven't been able to talk or flirt with my crush.
     
    And I'm dying here.
     
    I yearn for starting school here, yet I don't. I feel like how my parents felt going into this country: A Fresh Start, Clean Slate, New Opportunities... but in a place where the Rules are different, People aren't like what you thought, and that you just don't belong.
     
    But I don't feel afraid for some strange reason.
     
    I don't know if I'll find someone I like (and not when I'm about to move) and that I truly understand and they understand me. My crush and I probably had something, not sure if she would've gone out with me or not.
     
    Well, I don't know whether I should be excited for the new school or not, but in any case, its impossible to escape the fact that probably Tuesday, I face a Whole New World...
     

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