So after spending the last two hours reminscing on my life, I couldn't help but think back. I've been getting so much lectures from everyone around, and it's honestly pissing me off. From my parents, I understand. From my relatives, I can see their concern. And I hate it when people act like I'm a child, like I don't know what to do with my life. Well, I do. I know what I want and I will reach it. Asking me questions like "what're you going to do, you haven't gone to school in four months." Shit like that honestly piss me off, but THANK YOU. You fuel the motivation that I was lacking. I will die proving you people wrong. Just so you know, I have not been wasting my time. I have been productive, I have not been wasting my life away. Unlike you, I've been figuring out my future, planning ahead and yes, I do know what I want to be. Yes, I do know where I want to go. And yes, I don't give a fuck what you think. In all honesty, my real motivation to stay in school is because I made a promise to my grandparents, the ones I have now and the ones that have passed away, that I would finish my education and make my parents proud. So for you bastards who talk shit about me, keep it to yourself. No actually, tell it to my face. I want you to write it in blood so that when I do prove you wrong, you can't say shit like "I never doubted you." Because I do know for a fact that you doubt me. You're telling everyone that you doubt me. You're telling my own family that I should just find a full time job so I could be useful. I may have been in a rut, but you don't know what I've been through. You have no right to tell me that I am a failure. It just angers me how you think so lowly of me. But please, keep doing so. Not only do I have the motivation to fulfill my promise to my grandparents, my promise to my parents, the promise to my own little brother, I now have the motivation to prove you wrong. What I went through shows that hope is never gone, that with a little bit of faith, miracles can happen. I'll be honest, I felt hopeless after a lot of things seemed to be failing in my life. I'll be honest, I was deeply affected when I heard news about someone real close to me. I went through a stage of depression because I thought my situation was hopeless. I became miserable, and I began to hate a lot about my life. But look at me now, I found a passion that I wouldn't have discovered if I spent my days in school. I opened up new opportunities by missing four months of semestered education. I love my life and I actually look forward to the future ahead of me. I'll tell you right now, just because I was not in school did not mean I stopped learning. No, I studied photography books, techniques, read about colleges and universities to help me see where I want to be in a couple of years. I've never been closer in my faith, and I'm satisfied where I am with God right now. My time spent in solitary confinement have made me realize a lot of things. In short, I have become wiser and mature in these four months. So no, I did not waste my time. I see these past four months as a growing phase. I overcame my own worst nightmare, my biggest obstacle and got rid of it for good. I now see myself in a whole new light and I wouldn't have been able to do that without the countless hours I spent by myself. With nothing but my own thoughts, and music playing in the background. So fuck off. My life is not a waste, I am not a failure and God knows that my future is bright. I'll show you. I'll show the whole world.
Four months is nothing compared to the years that the average person spends figuring out his life, his passion, and trying to overcome his biggest obstacle.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Matthew's Journal
This is a story that I started on last night, I thought I might try a new way of writing and story telling, so enjoy. It's unfinished but I hope you'll want to read more.
December 25th 2008
It’s my first entry in this book. I haven’t written in a while, my writing seems to have gotten worse. Oh, where are my manners? My name is Matthew. Huh, sounds like I’m writing a story. I doubt anyone will be reading this. After all, it is a journal. Wouldn’t that be cool though? To think that my life could be portrayed as a story that people read in their past time. I doubt it. After all, I’m the author. I’m a horrible story teller. But in case anyone gets a hold of this, I suppose I should talk a bit about myself. Someone probably will. I always lose things. Like I wrote earlier, my name is Matthew. I am eighteen years old. My parents left me in an orphanage when I was three. According to Theo, my parents placed me for adoption because my parents didn’t want me. I remember my first day at the orphanage. My parents were talking to the receptionist while I was sitting quietly. I was observing my surroundings, as I normally did. I saw the children peering from the next room. I assumed that my parents were adopting, they were always talking about adoption. At the time, I was only able to understand a couple of words here and there, but I was able to speak simple sentences. I asked my parents one night why they were talking about adoption, for my lack of understanding prevented me from knowing the whole story. All they said was they were planning on visiting one. I had no idea of their real intentions. They gave in some sort of paperwork and walked towards me. My father just glanced at me and walked out the door. My mom had tears in her eyes. I had no idea why at the time. She kissed me on the forehead and said she’ll be back. I walked my mom out the door and said goodbye. I heard her sobbing. My innocence at the time prevented me from understanding why she had started to cry as I said goodbye to her. As I watched them walk to their car, turn on the engine and drive away, the caretaker was sweeping the porch. I saw him sigh and looked at me with pitying eyes. Only now do I know why he was showing signs of sympathy. It only took me until the end of the day to realize that my parents were not coming back. The receptionist mocked me, I hated her so much. She made my life a living hell. There were a lot of staffs that lived in the orphanage. An orphanage the size of a mansion was hard to maintain, especially if there are at least twenty other children in the house. I made no friends with the other children. I knew what the place was. I knew that one by one, we would be adopted, as if we were objects for sale. I despised the other kids, and they kept their distance from me. The only two human beings I ever interacted there was the caretaker and a person of another gender. Theo the caretaker, as the other children would call him. Everyone loved him, even the stuck up blonde receptionist. I would always be sitting by myself, just admiring the books that were in the library of the house. When I was six years old, I was looking for another book to read though I found it quite hard. My vocabulary at the time was not that strong and it was hard for me to understand some words., especially with the lack of a dictionary. He came up and said that I should read the Lemony Snicket Series. I asked him if it was interesting and he told me that it was about siblings who were orphaned and faced the world on their own. I grew interest and when I had questions about the story, whether it be trying to understand their motives or with big words that I did not know what they meant, I would go to him.
As the years progressed, I became somewhat more social. But I stuck to talking to Theo. Since the staff slept in the building, Theo would sometimes share stories while he would light a pipe. The receptionist, who seemed to be the one running the place, forbids Theo from smoking. So Theo would wait until everyone is asleep and have a light outside, by the garden. I was restless at night so he invited me to tag along, assuming that I don’t get caught and that I don’t tattle. At first, I thought it would be hard to sneak out, but my roommates were paranoid, scared of the dark. I used that to my advantage. I would always laugh in the morning as they talked tales of the noises I would make as I got up and walked out the door. I found Theo to be an interesting character. He told me that he was drafted in the war when he was just eighteen and he was one of the lucky ones to survive. From the books that I’ve read, it was a horrifying event, and Theo testified to that. I grew fond of Theo, thought of him as my father. Then one day, Theo came to me with the best news that I’ve ever heard. He had just bought his own place, in the suburbs of town and that he wanted me to be his adopted son. I was ecstatic. I had no ties to cut with the orphanage, except for a girl who seemed to have grown fond of me. I asked Theo could also adopt her, seeing as she was the only one who wasn’t slightly afraid of me. Theo agreed and from then on, I thought us three would be a happy family.
December 25th 2008
It’s my first entry in this book. I haven’t written in a while, my writing seems to have gotten worse. Oh, where are my manners? My name is Matthew. Huh, sounds like I’m writing a story. I doubt anyone will be reading this. After all, it is a journal. Wouldn’t that be cool though? To think that my life could be portrayed as a story that people read in their past time. I doubt it. After all, I’m the author. I’m a horrible story teller. But in case anyone gets a hold of this, I suppose I should talk a bit about myself. Someone probably will. I always lose things. Like I wrote earlier, my name is Matthew. I am eighteen years old. My parents left me in an orphanage when I was three. According to Theo, my parents placed me for adoption because my parents didn’t want me. I remember my first day at the orphanage. My parents were talking to the receptionist while I was sitting quietly. I was observing my surroundings, as I normally did. I saw the children peering from the next room. I assumed that my parents were adopting, they were always talking about adoption. At the time, I was only able to understand a couple of words here and there, but I was able to speak simple sentences. I asked my parents one night why they were talking about adoption, for my lack of understanding prevented me from knowing the whole story. All they said was they were planning on visiting one. I had no idea of their real intentions. They gave in some sort of paperwork and walked towards me. My father just glanced at me and walked out the door. My mom had tears in her eyes. I had no idea why at the time. She kissed me on the forehead and said she’ll be back. I walked my mom out the door and said goodbye. I heard her sobbing. My innocence at the time prevented me from understanding why she had started to cry as I said goodbye to her. As I watched them walk to their car, turn on the engine and drive away, the caretaker was sweeping the porch. I saw him sigh and looked at me with pitying eyes. Only now do I know why he was showing signs of sympathy. It only took me until the end of the day to realize that my parents were not coming back. The receptionist mocked me, I hated her so much. She made my life a living hell. There were a lot of staffs that lived in the orphanage. An orphanage the size of a mansion was hard to maintain, especially if there are at least twenty other children in the house. I made no friends with the other children. I knew what the place was. I knew that one by one, we would be adopted, as if we were objects for sale. I despised the other kids, and they kept their distance from me. The only two human beings I ever interacted there was the caretaker and a person of another gender. Theo the caretaker, as the other children would call him. Everyone loved him, even the stuck up blonde receptionist. I would always be sitting by myself, just admiring the books that were in the library of the house. When I was six years old, I was looking for another book to read though I found it quite hard. My vocabulary at the time was not that strong and it was hard for me to understand some words., especially with the lack of a dictionary. He came up and said that I should read the Lemony Snicket Series. I asked him if it was interesting and he told me that it was about siblings who were orphaned and faced the world on their own. I grew interest and when I had questions about the story, whether it be trying to understand their motives or with big words that I did not know what they meant, I would go to him.
As the years progressed, I became somewhat more social. But I stuck to talking to Theo. Since the staff slept in the building, Theo would sometimes share stories while he would light a pipe. The receptionist, who seemed to be the one running the place, forbids Theo from smoking. So Theo would wait until everyone is asleep and have a light outside, by the garden. I was restless at night so he invited me to tag along, assuming that I don’t get caught and that I don’t tattle. At first, I thought it would be hard to sneak out, but my roommates were paranoid, scared of the dark. I used that to my advantage. I would always laugh in the morning as they talked tales of the noises I would make as I got up and walked out the door. I found Theo to be an interesting character. He told me that he was drafted in the war when he was just eighteen and he was one of the lucky ones to survive. From the books that I’ve read, it was a horrifying event, and Theo testified to that. I grew fond of Theo, thought of him as my father. Then one day, Theo came to me with the best news that I’ve ever heard. He had just bought his own place, in the suburbs of town and that he wanted me to be his adopted son. I was ecstatic. I had no ties to cut with the orphanage, except for a girl who seemed to have grown fond of me. I asked Theo could also adopt her, seeing as she was the only one who wasn’t slightly afraid of me. Theo agreed and from then on, I thought us three would be a happy family.
Monday, March 30, 2009
Randomness
I'm hella lazy right now, even to think of something to post. I'll probably spend the rest of the day playing NBA 2K9 or Call of Duty :) But here is something I found interesting on facebook.
grab a calculator, you'll need it =P
- enter the first 3 digits of your number (NOT the area code)
- multiply by 80, equals
- add 1, equals
- multiply by 250, equals
- add the last 4 digits of you number, equals
- add the last 4 digits of you number AGAIN, equals
- minus 250, equals
- divide by 2, equals
- aaannnddd then hit equals
. . . recognize the final number?
Yupp yupp, have fun. And photoshoot today with superEGOtron (Marcus) and I must say, the creeper lens is quite useful in taking scenery pictures, nawmean? ;)
I think I want to buy a stronger one LOL.
Kay, that's all for today.
Bai.
grab a calculator, you'll need it =P
- enter the first 3 digits of your number (NOT the area code)
- multiply by 80, equals
- add 1, equals
- multiply by 250, equals
- add the last 4 digits of you number, equals
- add the last 4 digits of you number AGAIN, equals
- minus 250, equals
- divide by 2, equals
- aaannnddd then hit equals
. . . recognize the final number?
Yupp yupp, have fun. And photoshoot today with superEGOtron (Marcus) and I must say, the creeper lens is quite useful in taking scenery pictures, nawmean? ;)
I think I want to buy a stronger one LOL.
Kay, that's all for today.
Bai.
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Moved On.
After having an awesome conversation with myself last night, and bowling out my anger, I figured, it's real stupid of me to be affected by this ironic situation. We never were together, but still, the irony kills me.
We said that we didn't want a serious relationship.
Then it turns out that we both wanted a serious one with each other.
But we thought that the other one didn't want a serious relationship.
Can you spell EPIC FAIL?
Sigh, oh well. Life happens.
On another note, D-Pryde's song Moved On really hits me. I mean, I can relate almost word for word. It's kinda scary.
Next topic! Damn you ADD.
Today's real special. Well the day before. Twenty-eight is a day that is to never be special. Not going to explain why.
So let me restate that. The 27th of March is special. Real special. It's the birth of Egotistic Productions! The first day that me, Marcus (http://superegotistic.blogspot.com) and John, (http://snucksforthewin.blogspot.com) actually took initiative and started taking pictures for our combined awesome blogspot (http://egotisticproductions.blogspot.com). Better book mark all of those! What makes that day more awesome is it was the day that my friend, Danielle Roche, who creates awesome art, but my favourite work of her are the graphic designs, actually did the favour I asked from her. I asked her to create an EGOTISTIC logo for us and she did! And I must say, it is dope beyond my expectation. Thank you so much Danielle Roche. You can check out her work at: http://daniesque.net/. GO THERE NOW.
I just spent two hours working on the egotistic productions banner. I was suppose to take a nap before I head out, but I guess not. Kay, check out our site and we'll all be introducing ourselves. But first, let me introduce to the rest of the family.
Egotistic Productions!
We said that we didn't want a serious relationship.
Then it turns out that we both wanted a serious one with each other.
But we thought that the other one didn't want a serious relationship.
Can you spell EPIC FAIL?
Sigh, oh well. Life happens.
On another note, D-Pryde's song Moved On really hits me. I mean, I can relate almost word for word. It's kinda scary.
Next topic! Damn you ADD.
Today's real special. Well the day before. Twenty-eight is a day that is to never be special. Not going to explain why.
So let me restate that. The 27th of March is special. Real special. It's the birth of Egotistic Productions! The first day that me, Marcus (http://superegotistic.blogspot.com) and John, (http://snucksforthewin.blogspot.com) actually took initiative and started taking pictures for our combined awesome blogspot (http://egotisticproductions.blogspot.com). Better book mark all of those! What makes that day more awesome is it was the day that my friend, Danielle Roche, who creates awesome art, but my favourite work of her are the graphic designs, actually did the favour I asked from her. I asked her to create an EGOTISTIC logo for us and she did! And I must say, it is dope beyond my expectation. Thank you so much Danielle Roche. You can check out her work at: http://daniesque.net/. GO THERE NOW.
I just spent two hours working on the egotistic productions banner. I was suppose to take a nap before I head out, but I guess not. Kay, check out our site and we'll all be introducing ourselves. But first, let me introduce to the rest of the family.
Egotistic Productions!
Saturday, March 28, 2009
Drop Them Motherfuckers.
Played like a fool.
So, fuck it. I don't need this.
I don't need them, I most definitely need her.
Fuck it.
And it's certainly not worth my fucking time.
Like Franco said, "Just do how you do. If it's not enough, then it ain't worth it."
Truer words could have never been said.
Single life anyone?
Eminem, thank you for writing Superman.
Drop them motherfuckers.
On another, awesome-er note.
I have bowling at ten the next morning and I'm still up at two. Nice.
I think I'm going to need a drink of red bull or coffee.
Got the egotistic abstract art, thanks to my friend Danielle Roche. Thanks friend!
You guys should check her site. I'm not home, so I don't have it fave'd. But I'll post it up soon.
Serious things, fuck girlfriends. Single life forreal. Sticking to it this time. I think that God really wants me to keep my new year's resolution.
Let's recap.
Fuck Relationships. Not worth my fucking time.
Let's focus into more important, more productive things. My passions.
Photography; This keeps me sane.
Writing; First passion, first love, I will never leave you.
Lastly, family over every motherfucking thing.
Sorry, but lately, it seems that no one else matters except family.
They're all I got. They're the only ones who keep me sane.
They're the ones who I can honestly say I love you to.
That's all I gotta say.
One more thing,
I wanted things to work out.
You have no idea how much I want you.
I only wish you'd know what you're missing out.
You know I'm different and I'd treat you well.
Oh, the irony.
So, fuck it. I don't need this.
I don't need them, I most definitely need her.
Fuck it.
And it's certainly not worth my fucking time.
Like Franco said, "Just do how you do. If it's not enough, then it ain't worth it."
Truer words could have never been said.
Single life anyone?
Eminem, thank you for writing Superman.
Drop them motherfuckers.
On another, awesome-er note.
I have bowling at ten the next morning and I'm still up at two. Nice.
I think I'm going to need a drink of red bull or coffee.
Got the egotistic abstract art, thanks to my friend Danielle Roche. Thanks friend!
You guys should check her site. I'm not home, so I don't have it fave'd. But I'll post it up soon.
Serious things, fuck girlfriends. Single life forreal. Sticking to it this time. I think that God really wants me to keep my new year's resolution.
Let's recap.
Fuck Relationships. Not worth my fucking time.
Let's focus into more important, more productive things. My passions.
Photography; This keeps me sane.
Writing; First passion, first love, I will never leave you.
Lastly, family over every motherfucking thing.
Sorry, but lately, it seems that no one else matters except family.
They're all I got. They're the only ones who keep me sane.
They're the ones who I can honestly say I love you to.
That's all I gotta say.
One more thing,
I wanted things to work out.
You have no idea how much I want you.
I only wish you'd know what you're missing out.
You know I'm different and I'd treat you well.
Oh, the irony.
To the Grandparents I never knew
Sorry, you don't have to read this. It's just something I felt like I needed to do.
Dear Lolo,
Even though I never knew you, you're one of the people that I hope I made proud. As I wake up every morning, you're never forgotten. How I wish I got to know you and learn from you before you passed away. I hope I'm making you proud as I progress in my life, though it seems unfulfilled right now. But I promise to make you and our whole family proud. And I never break my promises. Not anymore. I know you're looking after me now, thank you. Thank you for being the rock that I always need, spiritually. The thought of you and the stories that my mom tells about you are limitless. Even though we never met, I feel like I know you, though I wish I grew up learning from you personally. I'm sure that I would've been more disciplined. Thank you for everything, for working to provide my mom with the education she needed to be who she is. I miss you. And though I never met you, know that I love you.
Dear Lola,
From both my parent's side, there's one grandparent that I never got to meet. I saw pictures of you throughout my whole life and I'm sure that we would've gotten along quite well, from the stories that my parents tell me of you. They tell me that we're similar, maybe because I'm your grandson. And although we never talk about you, don't think that we forgotten you. After all, we visited you first when we went back to Philippines. It made me sad to see my dad like that. I'm pretty sure he misses you a lot. We all do. I hope that, while you're looking down on me, I'm making you proud. I know we'll meet one day, and I look forward in hearing the stories you never got to tell me. I miss you po. We all do. I love you and thank you for everything that you provided to my dad. Without those, who knows where I'd be growing up. Thank you.
Dear Lolo,
Even though I never knew you, you're one of the people that I hope I made proud. As I wake up every morning, you're never forgotten. How I wish I got to know you and learn from you before you passed away. I hope I'm making you proud as I progress in my life, though it seems unfulfilled right now. But I promise to make you and our whole family proud. And I never break my promises. Not anymore. I know you're looking after me now, thank you. Thank you for being the rock that I always need, spiritually. The thought of you and the stories that my mom tells about you are limitless. Even though we never met, I feel like I know you, though I wish I grew up learning from you personally. I'm sure that I would've been more disciplined. Thank you for everything, for working to provide my mom with the education she needed to be who she is. I miss you. And though I never met you, know that I love you.
Dear Lola,
From both my parent's side, there's one grandparent that I never got to meet. I saw pictures of you throughout my whole life and I'm sure that we would've gotten along quite well, from the stories that my parents tell me of you. They tell me that we're similar, maybe because I'm your grandson. And although we never talk about you, don't think that we forgotten you. After all, we visited you first when we went back to Philippines. It made me sad to see my dad like that. I'm pretty sure he misses you a lot. We all do. I hope that, while you're looking down on me, I'm making you proud. I know we'll meet one day, and I look forward in hearing the stories you never got to tell me. I miss you po. We all do. I love you and thank you for everything that you provided to my dad. Without those, who knows where I'd be growing up. Thank you.
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Honestly.
So march break was pretty dope. Up until now. I guess that'll teach me to start caring again. Oh well, back to my cynical bitter self. Well only in the point of view of relationships and whatnots. Honestly. I suppose I guess this makes me completely heartless. After being pulled apart and torn to pieces by so many people who I thought cared about me the same way I cared for them, it doesn't matter anymore. What's another person in the list compared to the millions before her? Anyways, thanks for trying fam. Can't do much, and I can't say I'm not a bit sad about it. I thought it would be different. That's what I get for being hopeful. Haha. I'll be fine, give it like two hours. But one thing's for sure. I can't believe I liked a niner as much as I liked that girl. Whatever, I suppose I can only give it time, but I'm doubtful that anything will happen. We all know that she'll miss me. Compared to her other guy friends, I was fucking perfect. Haha, fucking perfect. But in all honesty, she'll see that I could've been the best thing that could've happened to her. And same to your girls fam. They'll realize that they need us and that we were heaven sent. But that's their loss. Anyways, I'm almost sure that they'll miss us. We'll just find some other ones. Kay, I think that's enough ranting.
I swear I'm addicted to Magnetic North all over again.
Growing up, I was social but, never was the type to open up
So my closest friends were never close enough
I suppose to them I was emotionless...
So, my headphones were my constant companions
Around my neck they were constantly hanging
And late at night when I'm haunted by phantoms
The songs I would jam would subconsciously ban them
And damn
I know it's just lyrics and beats
But lyrics to me are like infinite peace
And peace
Is what hip hop had brought me
Strumming my pain like it was "Killing Me Softly"
Killing me, but what a way to die
Overdosed on flows, comatose on rhymes
And I
Wanna drift away
Staying conscious enough just to hit replay
Back to reality.
I swear I'm addicted to Magnetic North all over again.
Growing up, I was social but, never was the type to open up
So my closest friends were never close enough
I suppose to them I was emotionless...
So, my headphones were my constant companions
Around my neck they were constantly hanging
And late at night when I'm haunted by phantoms
The songs I would jam would subconsciously ban them
And damn
I know it's just lyrics and beats
But lyrics to me are like infinite peace
And peace
Is what hip hop had brought me
Strumming my pain like it was "Killing Me Softly"
Killing me, but what a way to die
Overdosed on flows, comatose on rhymes
And I
Wanna drift away
Staying conscious enough just to hit replay
Back to reality.
Price of Perfection
My all time favourite song. Price of Perfection by Magnetic North. This is my favourite verse. Listening to this always helps me keep sane. Give it a listen why don't you? Might save you like it saved me.
her pride kept her checked in
never was the one to go crying for attention
and why should she mention
the struggles under the surface
who'd take her serious? she appeared perfect
so perfect, that's why she's deserted
why she can't help forgetting seatbelts on purpose
swerving her lexus with a death wish
heart hollowed out like a tiffanys necklace a gift from her father
who loved her, but bothered
to only show love through material barter
constricted confinement, she drifted in silence
showing defiance through inflicted violence
upon herself
felt the war persist
wearing, long sleeves hiding scars on her wrist
in search of some options
she turned to her toxins
amphetamine pills kept in cigarette boxes
she figured she'd stop when she finally erased
the look of disappointment in mom and dads face
too gone and too late
she withdrew in herself
dropped out of school
and ruined her health
she pushed it all aside, her arrogant pride
relied too much on heinekens and heroin highs
thats how the heroine dies, alone in her car
with perfection and a bullet wound that gaped at the stars...
that gaped at the stars...
and thats the price of perfection.
her pride kept her checked in
never was the one to go crying for attention
and why should she mention
the struggles under the surface
who'd take her serious? she appeared perfect
so perfect, that's why she's deserted
why she can't help forgetting seatbelts on purpose
swerving her lexus with a death wish
heart hollowed out like a tiffanys necklace a gift from her father
who loved her, but bothered
to only show love through material barter
constricted confinement, she drifted in silence
showing defiance through inflicted violence
upon herself
felt the war persist
wearing, long sleeves hiding scars on her wrist
in search of some options
she turned to her toxins
amphetamine pills kept in cigarette boxes
she figured she'd stop when she finally erased
the look of disappointment in mom and dads face
too gone and too late
she withdrew in herself
dropped out of school
and ruined her health
she pushed it all aside, her arrogant pride
relied too much on heinekens and heroin highs
thats how the heroine dies, alone in her car
with perfection and a bullet wound that gaped at the stars...
that gaped at the stars...
and thats the price of perfection.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Family Over Everything.
Yeah, so I'm just a bit irked. Just because my friend worked his ass off for a chick that he was digging just so that she can get back with the ex that fucked her over. Honestly, that's so bullshit. I'm pissed off, why? Because you don't mess with my family. Shit, if she picks the wrong person, I swear, I'll make her regret it. I know he said that he doesn't care. But he was there for her. He helped her get back up, to forget about him. And now she's throwing that away. That, right there is the worst shit you could do to a decent guy. And trust me girl, if he fucked you over once, he will again. I know because I use to be that guy. SMH. I may be digging her sister, but never fuck with my family. Family over everything.
Yeah, my bad. Just had to.. erm, rant.
Yeah, my bad. Just had to.. erm, rant.
Knock you Down - Keri Hilson feat Ne-Yo & Kanye West
Heh.. not again..
Ohh.. this ain’t supposed to happen to me..
[Kanye West]
Keep rockin, and keep knockin
Whether you Louie Vouitonn it up or Reebokin
You see the hate, that they’re servin on a platter
So what we gon’ have - dessert or disaster?
[Keri Hilson]
I never thought I’d.. be in love like this
When I look at you my mind goes on a trip
Then you came in.. and knocked me on my face
Feels like in I’m a race
but I already won first place
I never thought I’d fall for you as hard as I did
(as hard as I did, yeah)
You got me thinkin bout our life our house and kids (yeah)
Every mornin I look at you and smile
cause boy you came around and you knocked me down.. knocked me down
[Chorus]
Sometimes love comes around
(love comes around love comes around)
and it knocks you down
Just get back up
When it knocks you down
(knocks you down)
Sometimes love comes around
(love comes around)
and it knocks you down
Just get back up
When it knocks you down
(knocks you down)
[Ne-Yo]
I never thought Id
hear myself say (ooh)
Ya’ll gon head
I think I’m gonna kick it wit my girl today (kick it wit my girl today)
I used to be commander and chief
of my pimp ship flyin high (flyin high)
til i met this pretty little missile that shot me out the sky (ohhh shot me out the sky)
Hey, now Im crashing, don’t know how it happened
But I know it feels so damn good
Said if I could back, and make it happen faster
Don’t you know I would baby if I could
Miss independent (ohh, to the fullest), the load never too much
she helpin me pull it
she shot the bullet that ended that life
I swear to u the pimp in me just died tonight,
girl sometimes love
[Keri Hilson]
[Chorus]
Sometimes love comes around
(love comes around)
and it knocks you down
Just get back up
When it knocks you down
(knocks you down)
Sometimes love comes around
(love comes around)
and it knocks you down
Just get back up
When it knocks you down
(knocks you down)
[Kanye West]
Tell me now can you make it past your caspers
So we can finally fly off into NASA
you was always the cheerleader of my dreams that
seem to only date the head of football teams
and I was the class clown that, always kept you laughin
We, were never meant to be baby we just happen
so please, don’t mess up the trick.. hey young world I’m the new slick rick
they say I move too quick, but we can't let the moment pass us
Let the hourglass pass right into ashes
let the wind blow the ash right before my glasses
So I wrote this love letter right before my classes
How could a goddess ask, someone that’s only average
For advice
OMG, you listen to that bitch?
Whoa it’s me
Baby this is tragic
Cause we had it, we was magic
I was flyin, now I’m crashin
this is bad, real bad, michael jackson
now I’m mad, real mad, joe jackson
you should leave your boyfriend now, Imma ask him
[Keri Hilson]
Say u gotta put the good with the bad, happy and the sad
So will u bring a better future than I had in the past
oh Cause, I don’t wanna make the same mistakes I did
I don’t wanna fall back on my face again
Whoaa, whoaaa
I’ll admit it, I was scared to answer love's call
Whoaa, whoaaa
and if it hits better make it worth the fall
(When it comes around)
[Chorus]
Sometimes love comes around
(love comes around)
and it knocks you down
Just get back up
When it knocks you down
(knocks you down)
Sometimes love comes around
(love comes around)
and it knocks you down
Just get back up
When it knocks you down
(knocks you down)
Won’t see it coming when it happens (hey)
but when it happens you’re gonna feel it, let me tell you now
you see when love knocks you down
Won’t see it coming when it happens
but when it happens you’re gonna feel it, let me tell you now
you see when love knocks you down
yeah
This is mine and John's theme song. No homo. We're just in the same boat. Nawmean? I suppose we're stuck in this now. Might as well make it work. Kay, no homo. LOL
Monday, March 23, 2009
The Extra Stuff
Kay, so I'm hella bored and I haven't written anything worth reading. So I think I'll just talk about this new mixtape that I've been listening to lately. Yes, it's called The Extra Stuff, and it's by D-Pryde. It's been out for a while but I was hella lazy and only downloaded it last night. Thirty four songs in it, but five of them were corrupted or broken or something. So now, I'm down to twenty nine songs to listen to. Some people don't really like D-Pryde, and I'll be honest. I never did at first, I thought, who the fuck is this kid trying to rap? But listening to some of his latest songs, he's got a dope flow and clever lyrics. I think he's a good artist, better than half of the ones that get paid millions of dollars for making shit tracks. Kay, back to the actual album. Like I said before, five of the tracks got corrupted when I was unzipping the file. So I'm missing tracks four, eleven, thirty one, thirty two, and thirty three. Well, I'm not sure. I thought there was thirty five, but the thirty fourth song says outro, so I'm just assuming.
To be honest, I've been looking forward to listening to his mixtape. And now that I have it, I must admit, it's pretty dope. Some songs are just parodies, which though a bit childish, IMO, is still funny. Note, it's not my intention to diss the artist, but just solely stating my opinion. There's a lot of other artists featuring and they compliment D-Pryde's style of parody songs. But that's just the parody songs. D-Pryde is a legit artists and I won't judge him if he's hella bored and feels like having fun. Again, I'm not trying to diss him.
But though there were a handful of satirical songs, the ones that, in my opinion, were done for the purpose of being heard and get his name out there (not like it already is), deserve to be heard by the public. It'll be surely a breath of fresh air compared to the artists that are popping up like accident babies. So, in short, I will place some songs of his on my iPod because I thought they were pretty dope. These are the songs that I thought are pretty bomb - Good Love, Superstar, Single Freeverse, Styll Fly, I Can Tell, Heart of the City, Teach U A Lesson, Moved On, AM to the PM, Bounce, Get Em D, Paper Touching, Happy Valentines Day. The list was more for me than you.
Anyways, that's my errm, review of his mixtape. But thanks to D-Pryde, I've started listening to Robin Thicke.
On another totally random note, I'm continuing my story, which is like twenty something pages long. I figured, I'd rather finish it now than just leave it unfinished. More on that later, back to my lovely ps3!
To be honest, I've been looking forward to listening to his mixtape. And now that I have it, I must admit, it's pretty dope. Some songs are just parodies, which though a bit childish, IMO, is still funny. Note, it's not my intention to diss the artist, but just solely stating my opinion. There's a lot of other artists featuring and they compliment D-Pryde's style of parody songs. But that's just the parody songs. D-Pryde is a legit artists and I won't judge him if he's hella bored and feels like having fun. Again, I'm not trying to diss him.
But though there were a handful of satirical songs, the ones that, in my opinion, were done for the purpose of being heard and get his name out there (not like it already is), deserve to be heard by the public. It'll be surely a breath of fresh air compared to the artists that are popping up like accident babies. So, in short, I will place some songs of his on my iPod because I thought they were pretty dope. These are the songs that I thought are pretty bomb - Good Love, Superstar, Single Freeverse, Styll Fly, I Can Tell, Heart of the City, Teach U A Lesson, Moved On, AM to the PM, Bounce, Get Em D, Paper Touching, Happy Valentines Day. The list was more for me than you.
Anyways, that's my errm, review of his mixtape. But thanks to D-Pryde, I've started listening to Robin Thicke.
On another totally random note, I'm continuing my story, which is like twenty something pages long. I figured, I'd rather finish it now than just leave it unfinished. More on that later, back to my lovely ps3!
Spring Break `09!
So I must admit, that this week was bomb. This week couldn't have been awesome without the help of some awesome people. But a special mention to a couple of people. Three in exact. First of all, my good friend Marcus Lomboy. Where would I be without the help of your awesomeness? I won't go into details because I'm quite lazy but you're awesome and I wouldn't be awesome without your help. Then there's John DeGuzman. Who without his help, I wouldn't have met the third person who made my week. But still, he's a bro, and you two are my bros for life. I got your back, you got mine. I'm your wingman right? :)
Anyways, the third person doesn't need to be reminded how she made my week. All i have to say is thanks babe, this week was memorable. :)
Anyways, I just finished my march break, this is the last three hours of the break. Well for everyone else, because I am off school till further notice. I think for my lack of education, I will be working on my photography skills, photoshop skills and writing skills.
So, my plans till I get that phone call for school or work is
Anyways, the third person doesn't need to be reminded how she made my week. All i have to say is thanks babe, this week was memorable. :)
Anyways, I just finished my march break, this is the last three hours of the break. Well for everyone else, because I am off school till further notice. I think for my lack of education, I will be working on my photography skills, photoshop skills and writing skills.
So, my plans till I get that phone call for school or work is
- Start and finish my twenty four hour portfolio. (sometime this week or the next)
- Start uploading my daily picture project. (a month's work, hopefully)
- Begin my new story with a new epic story line which I hope to keep readers attached.
- Start and finish a second twenty four hour portfolio, if my mind can keep up. (two weeks from now)
- Photoshoot with my fam (not my real one, but my crack addictz fam.)
Okay, so with that said, I shall begin my brainstorming for the first ten days of my daily picture project and my first twenty four hour portfolio. Wish me luck readers and I hope you guys had (having or will have) a bomb march break like i did!
Clearly, I still am sane.
Monday, March 16, 2009
Just bleeding out a quick verse
Battle motherfuckers who think they matter
Put away your rattle, and no, I am not flattered
When you challenge me, you can't manange to be
The greatest MC without trying to test me
I'm the newest kid around, and I'm heaven bound
Working my way up at the speed of sound
You think you got fans, you're your own fan base
President of fags who's never touched a girl's face
I'm not in first place but I'm farther than you
You challenged me and here I am, replying on cue
You should just quit, hand in your pink letter
Cuz it's physically impossible for you to get better
It's not even possible for you to get an applause
So either quit or put your time to a better cause
You make whack MCs look like they've got talent
I'm the assassin that managed to murder Clark Kent
Without the use of kryptonite, shot him on sight
Exposed his weak spot, he didn't put up a fight
He practically placed the bullet in himself
That's your situation unless you go get help
Fuck that, no one would dare give you advice
A hopeless cause like a thirteen playing dice
You think you're dope? Pretending to be awesome
The people you know are those who you drink cum from
No I'm not dumb, I'm a motherfucking genius
You're ridiculous, and yes I am hella furious
Asked for sixteen, I'm a motherfucking fiend
You're lying on red while I'm bleeding out green
Put away your rattle, and no, I am not flattered
When you challenge me, you can't manange to be
The greatest MC without trying to test me
I'm the newest kid around, and I'm heaven bound
Working my way up at the speed of sound
You think you got fans, you're your own fan base
President of fags who's never touched a girl's face
I'm not in first place but I'm farther than you
You challenged me and here I am, replying on cue
You should just quit, hand in your pink letter
Cuz it's physically impossible for you to get better
It's not even possible for you to get an applause
So either quit or put your time to a better cause
You make whack MCs look like they've got talent
I'm the assassin that managed to murder Clark Kent
Without the use of kryptonite, shot him on sight
Exposed his weak spot, he didn't put up a fight
He practically placed the bullet in himself
That's your situation unless you go get help
Fuck that, no one would dare give you advice
A hopeless cause like a thirteen playing dice
You think you're dope? Pretending to be awesome
The people you know are those who you drink cum from
No I'm not dumb, I'm a motherfucking genius
You're ridiculous, and yes I am hella furious
Asked for sixteen, I'm a motherfucking fiend
You're lying on red while I'm bleeding out green
Daily Picture Projects
So for those of you who don't know. I love photography, it's my passion next to writing. Hence why I have a blogspot and a livejournal. From poetry to stories to random rants, I write everything. Sorry, I'm rambling on. Back to the topic.
I wanted to start my daily picture project where I'm going to take a picture of myself or anything around me that speaks to me and post it. Obviously, one a day is the point of it. I was going to start it today, and this whole project is due to my lack of postings to my flickr site and blogspot for my photos. But I didn't do a perfect job of editting my first piece so I think I'm going to stall it for now. So look forward to that my new found friends! Happy reading and hope this entertained you, though it's lenght is quite short. Have a beautiful day.
http://illicitdesire.blogspot.com
http://irisvirus.blogspot.com
http://www.flickr.com/photos/34972991@N04/
I wanted to start my daily picture project where I'm going to take a picture of myself or anything around me that speaks to me and post it. Obviously, one a day is the point of it. I was going to start it today, and this whole project is due to my lack of postings to my flickr site and blogspot for my photos. But I didn't do a perfect job of editting my first piece so I think I'm going to stall it for now. So look forward to that my new found friends! Happy reading and hope this entertained you, though it's lenght is quite short. Have a beautiful day.
http://illicitdesire.blogspot.com
http://irisvirus.blogspot.com
http://www.flickr.com/photos/34972991@N04/
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Trees, Raindrops & Silhouettes
These are my obsessions for a while. Trees without leaves at least. The way it looks behind a clear background is just amazing. The way the branches just reach out, creating lines have no particular end point or a starting point. The way the tree reaches out in a million different directions and the branches managing to defy gravity. Even against the I don't know. In my eyes, it looks amazing, almost breathtaking. But that's just my opinion.
Raindrops are amazing in a whole nother level. They defy gravity. They are not bound by the normal laws of the world. They gather in a single spot, defying gravity. Of course, until a certain point where the raindrop becomes too heavy. Then they simply fall towards the ground and with a simple plop, they disappear, vanishing like thin air. All that remains is a simple mark, leftovers from the water that wasn't soaked in to the ground. It makes you question the existance of the raindrop. If it existed, was it even there? Or was it just a figment of your imagination?
Silhouettes are the third obsession, completing this trilogy of mine. You can't see anything past the dark shadow. The light surrounding the figure overpowers the colour of the figure, hence the effect of a silhouette. Although I've never perfected how to create that perfect silhouette figure, I will one day. In fact I have on in mind already, although it's not quite original. Silhouettes fascinate me beyond my own thoughts. I don't know why, but there is something about a silhouette that is awe-gazing. Maybe the fact that you do not clearly see the expression of the person's face, depending on the perspective. If the figure was looking at you, in a silhouette, you wouldn't know if the figure was smiling. For all you know, it has an evil smirk and it wishes to pull you into it's evil influence. Maybe that's why I am fascinated by a silhouette. You never know it's true appearance.
These three things, I can easily relate to. I'm biased towards pictures that include these because I already love the thought of them. They are so relate-able. A tree, rooted deeply into the ground has its branches reaching out for the skies. Hoping that something else will reach for it back and pull it up. I just see beauty in trees. I'm odd like that. Raindrops, the whole idea of did their existence ever happen just adds how frail our minds really are. Sure, we have books to remind us of what was and history, but how do we know for sure that what is written is facts? For I am a writer and I weave a lot of fictional stories. Sometimes, I get too deep into my stories or even poetry that I forget that it's just a story. Maybe I'm different like that. Silhouettes hide what is there on the surface and what's underneath. I promised myself never to open up like a virgin's legs. I've been hurt too many times from being care free about who I trust. I've learned my lesson after so many heartaches and heartbreaks. But that doesn't mean I don't open up, I'm not bitter. I've changed but I have not grown a hateful taste towards the world. I will always be the guy that smiles after everything, through anything. Because there are too many things in the world that are beautiful to not smile about. There are too many things worth smiling for. Maybe I am too different. But if I'm not, then I become like everyone else. And there is no worse nightmare than being similar with those who do not see the world for it's beauty. I'm seventeen and the world is beautiful through my eyes, and I've only seen one tenth of the world. Weird, different, odd, whatever you call me, I will always be different. I was born different and I'm proud to be.
Raindrops are amazing in a whole nother level. They defy gravity. They are not bound by the normal laws of the world. They gather in a single spot, defying gravity. Of course, until a certain point where the raindrop becomes too heavy. Then they simply fall towards the ground and with a simple plop, they disappear, vanishing like thin air. All that remains is a simple mark, leftovers from the water that wasn't soaked in to the ground. It makes you question the existance of the raindrop. If it existed, was it even there? Or was it just a figment of your imagination?
Silhouettes are the third obsession, completing this trilogy of mine. You can't see anything past the dark shadow. The light surrounding the figure overpowers the colour of the figure, hence the effect of a silhouette. Although I've never perfected how to create that perfect silhouette figure, I will one day. In fact I have on in mind already, although it's not quite original. Silhouettes fascinate me beyond my own thoughts. I don't know why, but there is something about a silhouette that is awe-gazing. Maybe the fact that you do not clearly see the expression of the person's face, depending on the perspective. If the figure was looking at you, in a silhouette, you wouldn't know if the figure was smiling. For all you know, it has an evil smirk and it wishes to pull you into it's evil influence. Maybe that's why I am fascinated by a silhouette. You never know it's true appearance.
These three things, I can easily relate to. I'm biased towards pictures that include these because I already love the thought of them. They are so relate-able. A tree, rooted deeply into the ground has its branches reaching out for the skies. Hoping that something else will reach for it back and pull it up. I just see beauty in trees. I'm odd like that. Raindrops, the whole idea of did their existence ever happen just adds how frail our minds really are. Sure, we have books to remind us of what was and history, but how do we know for sure that what is written is facts? For I am a writer and I weave a lot of fictional stories. Sometimes, I get too deep into my stories or even poetry that I forget that it's just a story. Maybe I'm different like that. Silhouettes hide what is there on the surface and what's underneath. I promised myself never to open up like a virgin's legs. I've been hurt too many times from being care free about who I trust. I've learned my lesson after so many heartaches and heartbreaks. But that doesn't mean I don't open up, I'm not bitter. I've changed but I have not grown a hateful taste towards the world. I will always be the guy that smiles after everything, through anything. Because there are too many things in the world that are beautiful to not smile about. There are too many things worth smiling for. Maybe I am too different. But if I'm not, then I become like everyone else. And there is no worse nightmare than being similar with those who do not see the world for it's beauty. I'm seventeen and the world is beautiful through my eyes, and I've only seen one tenth of the world. Weird, different, odd, whatever you call me, I will always be different. I was born different and I'm proud to be.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Just So You Know...
There comes a time where we think that things could've gone different. That we could've done something to change how things ended up. It's been a while for me but I still wish things could've ended differently. That's the beauty of life I suppose. Things happen, things change, you move on, they do, either way, nothing can be held on too long enough to cherish. After all, how do you think they came up with the line, "You don't know what you've got till it's gone." From my experience, and you can claim me wrong if you think differently, it's these "what if's" that make us better, stronger and hopefully, one day, perfect. There is not a single plausible way for us to become perfect, because perfection is just out of our humane grasp, but going through the heartbreaks, the problems, the arguements and the new significant others help us get there. So, yes, you will feel like crap. You'll beat yourself up for not doing anything different. You'll feel like you could've done a single thing to change the outcome of the whole event. I still think so, and I'll admit, I can't let go of it, no matter how hard I try. I know you know what I'm talking about. The one person who you thought was worth everything in the world. And that's why you're thinking like that. Because for once in our lives, we placed aside our stupidity, our guy habits and actually did a mature thing. And that is to commit. It's not hard but it's still not easy. Especially for people like us. But what can we do? You're going to say, something. But think about it, really? You know more than anyone else that things don't work out that easily. We don't live in a fairy tale and shit happens. So do yourself a favour, pick yourself up, move on with life and just so you know, they'll miss you. They'll miss you more for being able to put yourself together after such a hard decision, to show that you're still living and your world didn't come crashing down without them. It took me a hella long time to get myself up, and I feel like an idiot for letting it take so long, but in the end, I'm back to normal, sorta. And if I can, I'm sure you can too. I'm just saying, don't let this obstacle fuck up your whole life like mine. Whatever you decide on doing, like we said last night, there's only two choices, fifty fifty at each, don't let it affect everything else about you. She's losing something great, let her see that. I've never seen you work so hard for a chick before, but life is filled with random events that will keep you wondering why it happened. So forget why it happened, just leave it up to fate or destiny or whatever godly forces work in our lives. Just don't let it fuck up your entire life, and I'm speaking wise words here. So you better heed them cuz me giving out advice that you can ACTUALLY use is hella rare nowadays.
That's what I wanted to say last night when you called, but I was hella lazy to speak. Take it easy bro. I got you fam.
That's what I wanted to say last night when you called, but I was hella lazy to speak. Take it easy bro. I got you fam.
Monday, March 9, 2009
Stories > Poems
Apparently, people are telling me that my stories are better than my poetry/whatever you wanna call them stuff. Though most people agree that I am a talented writer. I doubt that. I use writing as a form of expressing what is going through the endless abyss that I call my mind. So, without further ado, here's another one!
Log In.
After all I've been through, I guess I'm a stronger person.
Yet I act like I've yet to learn my lesson.
It's messin with the being within me, seriously.
But I keep on moving onward like there is hope in creating a better me.
Honestly, I feel like I'm never going to change.
Because I do not look in the mirror and feel strange.
I am who I am, passed that teenage range.
A time where the mind is easily influenced.
The time where nerds and geeks transform and morph to a being that's truant.
We're only human and truancy is an easy way to be accepted socially.
They excel mentally and verbally but they lack physically.
That was me back in 1999.
A young child who's heart and soul's always on the line.
I'm still that kid, except I'm riddled with battle scars.
Resulted from when logic moved on to Mars.
And stars, how I wish I could reach them.
But it seems the harder I try, the more problems come from them.
So I hide from them, burying those dreams under ten feet of dirt.
The same stars that are chemically inert, found physically in earth, I've had them thought of mentally since birth.
And now they're worthless because nothing stays constant.
And it's these demons that are becoming more dominant.
I wish to get rid of them but I just can't.
It's an impossibility for me to change like altering the diet of a caniverous plant.
A transplant may be my only hope but I'm one of a kind.
As the days pass by, I'm running out of time.
But for now, I'm perfect through my own two eyes.
So as I sigh and wave another meaningless goodbye.
I won't change because I'm satisfied with how I turned out.
I'm inhuman, illogical, I'm Angelo, and I'm signing out.
Log In.
After all I've been through, I guess I'm a stronger person.
Yet I act like I've yet to learn my lesson.
It's messin with the being within me, seriously.
But I keep on moving onward like there is hope in creating a better me.
Honestly, I feel like I'm never going to change.
Because I do not look in the mirror and feel strange.
I am who I am, passed that teenage range.
A time where the mind is easily influenced.
The time where nerds and geeks transform and morph to a being that's truant.
We're only human and truancy is an easy way to be accepted socially.
They excel mentally and verbally but they lack physically.
That was me back in 1999.
A young child who's heart and soul's always on the line.
I'm still that kid, except I'm riddled with battle scars.
Resulted from when logic moved on to Mars.
And stars, how I wish I could reach them.
But it seems the harder I try, the more problems come from them.
So I hide from them, burying those dreams under ten feet of dirt.
The same stars that are chemically inert, found physically in earth, I've had them thought of mentally since birth.
And now they're worthless because nothing stays constant.
And it's these demons that are becoming more dominant.
I wish to get rid of them but I just can't.
It's an impossibility for me to change like altering the diet of a caniverous plant.
A transplant may be my only hope but I'm one of a kind.
As the days pass by, I'm running out of time.
But for now, I'm perfect through my own two eyes.
So as I sigh and wave another meaningless goodbye.
I won't change because I'm satisfied with how I turned out.
I'm inhuman, illogical, I'm Angelo, and I'm signing out.
Thursday, March 5, 2009
My Eternal Soul
“Come here, little brother,” I sat next to him looking up at his eyes. His eyes showed that he was always in thought. Joey had dreams of changing the world, and he has. He’s twenty-one and he’s the president of a Youth Reach program. He teaches kids various life changing lessons and how to keep out of trouble and make the best of themselves. “Has Mom and Dad told you the news yet?”
My eyes dropped. I overheard him and my parents arguing. He was a journalist as a career and a photographer in his spare time. He was the perfect older brother. Cool, laid back, inspiring and successful. I have never heard my parents and them arguing. It was always me who talked back to our elders. I was a mischievous kid, I always had always been jealous of his perfection. He told me that he’s still reaching for perfection but he was perfect through my eyes. They argued about my brother’s recent impulsive decision to become a journalist in the war. He wanted to photograph the war overseas and show the world its ugly head. My parents were protective and refused to let him go. Any journalists who venture out there never make it back. Ninety percent of the journalists die within the first forty-eight hours of their time there. Journalistsbecame the primary target of the enemy. They did not want the world to be exposed to the inhuman warfare happening there. Some even claimed conspiracies that state that our own soldiers are the ones shooting these brave journalists. My brother had always been stubborn. A week later, he was on his way to the warzone. That was the last time I had heard from him though he had promised me to call on my birthday.
I opened my eyes and exited the flashbacks. I was sitting in a room with a therapist in front of me.
“What happened to your brother?” she asked. I grew silent and my eyes dropped. I answered regardless. In a quiet voice, I informed her that Joey had died.
“It took me a couple of weeks to realize it.” I felt like I was being interrogated, the room did not provide enough light for me to see her face.
“When did he die?”
“November 24th, 2008. He arrived there November 22nd.”
“Two days, more than most journalists who went decided to record the events in warzone.”
“He still died!” I raised my voice, even through the darkness I could sense her signalling me to calm down.
“I know, how did you handle the news?”
“Like I said, it took me a couple of days to realize that he’s gone.”
“And when you did?”
“I joined the army. Became a sniper, you’ve seen my record.” It was required by law that I see a therapist, to make sure that I am still mentally intact after partaking in the horrifying war.
“Yes, it’s quite impressive. Joined right on your eighteenth birthday. Only half a year of military training, four months of guerrilla warfare, switched into a sniper program for your remarkable steady hands and patience. Over three hundred killed by your hands, you took part in important missions in winning the war, even infiltrated their ranks and assassinated their leader and leaving without the war without a scratch.”
“It’s nothing to be proud of.”
“Indeed, but that is why we are here.”
“To make sure that I don’t crack and start killing everyone.”
“That’s one way of putting it. It also says you were awarded by the president with an award that boasts you are the greatest asset in winning the war?”
“I infiltrated the enemies’ ranks; stole their plans, anything and everything connected to their military, our government had a copy of it. I became their leader’s most trusted bodyguard, and I killed him myself.”
“But I thought you were a sniper.”
“For the first two years that I joined.”
“Then in the last six months, you were undercover? How brave of you.”
I scoffed at my therapist. What fuelled my bravery was revenge for the innocent blood they have spilled. I couldn’t care less about the awards and the medals, as long as I was the one to murder my brother’s murderer.
She asked me my purpose in joining the army. I knew she knew it was because of my brother. Revenge was how they pulled in most of their soldiers. I felt another flashback coming to life.
Two days after my brother had left; our whole family was on edge. We were praying that we would never hear our family member’s name mentioned on the news as they report of another journalist slaying. Not a moment went by that there wasn’t a radio turned on or a television tuned into the news. Then one fateful twenty-fifth, it happened. The media calls it the most horrifying event ever to be seen by the world. The enemy had hacked into every television and radio station in our country. They all played the same thing. The scene started out with a journalist being beaten. Then a man came up to the camera and claimed he is the leader of our enemy. Then after saying how we are to lose the war because they are superior and they are armed without mercy. He picked up the journalist who was in the background and shot him right between the eyes. The tape was dated on the twenty-fourth of November. There was nothing we could do. We were too horrified to close the television. We were all in a state of shock especially because it was my brother that was made an example of. That’s when I snapped. Made it my mission to take revenge. I would not stand idly by and have my hero be made an example. I was ready to defend his honour and everything he stood for. Worst of all, they played it on my birthday. I ran to the outpost in our city and signed up. I insisted they let me start right away and when I told them that it was my brother who was murdered across the globe they called for the commanding general. The general saw the anger and hate in my eyes and agreed to my request.
“Looking back on it,” I couldn’t help but feel the same anger I felt back then, “My anger and need for revenge is what kept me alive. I’ve been shot once and the doctors said it would be fatal. I was sniped but I shot back at my shooter, right between the eyes. He shot right through my wall. The doctor said the bullet just missed my heart but I bled too much and was going to die.”
“Yes, it mentions that here too. What a miracle don’t you agree?”
“Miracles are not for murderers. By then, I killed over two hundred people already and not all of those kills where by sniper.”
“How do you know that you were over two hundred?”
“I was a sniper for two years, but I was also a part of the guerilla night raids. We would burn down villages and cities and I would count every single body that fell motionless because of my action. I could still see the tears in their eyes as they begged for mercy.”
“And you shot them because you were ordered to?”
“No, because I hated them all. I didn’t care if they were innocent. My hate raged in me.”
“Are you still hateful?”
“How can I not? They globalized my brother’s death. It’s only been a year since the war ended. The memories are still fresh.”
“There have been a lot of conspiracies running around even after the war, which one speaks the truth?”
“About how our country murdered their entire army personnel, hunted them down like game. The government paid us a hundred for every soldier we killed. It was called Operation Genocide, and with the help of their military database, we knew their whole personnel. We would kill the target, and take his fingerprint signed in his own blood as proof of their death. We murdered over eight thousand people in that operation. Eight thousand people who thought the war was over, who surrendered willingly and hid for their lives. We found them, all of them.”
“They would’ve done the same if they won, probably worse.”
“We’ll never know. The entire world knows we are monsters, our government did not give mercy and we all deserve to burn in hell. My brother would be ashamed of me.”
“You did as you were told.”
“Regardless, I became what he stood against. He would never look at me again.”
“You’re Catholic, right?”
“Yes.”
“Then you’ll see him in the afterlife.”
“No, I’ll be in hell. He’ll be looking down on me, crying. Everyone who partook in that operation is going to die.”
“That’s just crazy talk.”
“Really? Tell me, how many of the twenty four people that were enlisted to carry out that operation are alive?” She did not reply. “I’m the last one left. Everyone else died and their murderer always committed suicide to avoid interrogation, because we would’ve torn them apart. They’re taking revenge back for what we did. And there’s only one more left.”
“You’re hiding in the most secure place in the world. There is no way anyone can get you here. There is only one door, the windows are ten inches thick of bulletproof glass and there is only one key in the whole world that opens up the lock in your reinforced door. If this location was hit by a bomb, your room would be the only one still intact.” Her voice signified that she was becoming annoyed with my realistic mindset.
“Do you not see? I am not safe anywhere. I am to die because God knows the evil I have done and He is going to right my wrongs. Justice will be served. I’ve accepted the fact that I am going to die. I will not live to see my twenty fourth birthday. It’s just a matter of time.”
“Why do you have little faith in your fellow soldiers?”
“Because nothing stands in the way of revenge. That’s how I survived. Do you know who shot my brother?”
“Their leader.”
“Exactly, I killed their leader. No one knew who he was until he made that appearance. The person who died before me was our president’s body guard. That means they could’ve killed the president if they wanted to. We are dealing with a powerful group. Whoever is leading this vendetta against me and my twenty three dead comrades knew us personally.”
She got up, indicating our time was up. I think she had become less and less patient with me. But she knew I spoke the truth. I was not safe anywhere. They relocated me to this base in order for them to catch the last assassin before he commits suicide in hopes of ending this group who had proved themselves to be powerful.
Later that night, I sat on my bed. I felt my death coming so sleep was not an option. The lights turned suddenly shut down, the whole building went nocturnal. I heard bodies dropping outside my door then a beep, indicating someone used the only key to open the door. The heavy door slowly opened and a man in our uniform was standing before me. He closed the door behind him. He looked at me and I knew what was to happen next. Another flashback came to life. I recognized his face. He spoke to me, claiming he was the son of the leader. Then it all came together. How my comrades and I were found so easily. He was my partner when I was undercover. It all made sense; he was a spy working under my country’s enemy. He was assigned as my partner because he defected from the enemy. He was right there when I shot his father exactly like how my brother was shot. It happened when the leader’s mansion was being raided by my allies. The leader, my partner and I hid in the secure room underneath the mansion. I shot the leader without hesitation. I didn’t want him to beg for his life because my partner had been there. If I was alone with him, I would’ve made him beg for death. My partner testified to my government that I was the one who shot the leader. When their leader’s death was made public, their army began to crumble. After the war, my partner was given a life in my country, as the promise to anyone who defects to the other side. I thought that would be the last time I see him. Then after Operation Genocide, he became the leader in protecting those who were a part of that operation.
He closed the door behind me; I made no attempt in saving myself.
“You act like your comrades did.”
“You mean our comrades, and it is because we deserve to die.”
“Then you are not so heartless after all. I always thought you were demons sent from hell.”
“The other twenty three are already there.”
“And you will join them soon enough. Tell me, why do you not save yourself? You have a gun right next to you.”
“Because killing myself is taking the coward’s way out. Revenge is more than enough reason for a mortal to defy the laws of nature.”
“You killed my father before my eyes.”
“You’re father killed my brother and televised it to the world.”
“I guess we’ll be dining in hell from here now own.” He aimed his gun at me.
“Revenge only leads to more revenge.”
“No, I made sure that this war ends with the two of us. There will be no one left to hold a grudge when we die.”
“Why must you kill yourself after?” He smiled, and chuckled. I realized the stupidity of my question. The most secure place in the world, I thought to myself, “But why make the others kill themselves?”
“They took on the task gladly. After what your government did to my country, they wanted revenge. They knew that they would not survive torture and took the easy way out. At least this way, revenge is cut before it is to grow.”
“And you being here is a testimony to the growth in revenge. It was inevitable.”
“Like how I knew my father’s death would be inevitable. I saw it in your eyes when I infiltrated your army and was assigned to be your partner.” The lights came back on. Someone began pounding at my door.
“I congratulate you, this whole operation of yours was brilliantly planned and executed.” I smiled and looked outside the window for one last time.
“May God have mercy on your soul.”
“And on yours.” I replied.
My eyes dropped. I overheard him and my parents arguing. He was a journalist as a career and a photographer in his spare time. He was the perfect older brother. Cool, laid back, inspiring and successful. I have never heard my parents and them arguing. It was always me who talked back to our elders. I was a mischievous kid, I always had always been jealous of his perfection. He told me that he’s still reaching for perfection but he was perfect through my eyes. They argued about my brother’s recent impulsive decision to become a journalist in the war. He wanted to photograph the war overseas and show the world its ugly head. My parents were protective and refused to let him go. Any journalists who venture out there never make it back. Ninety percent of the journalists die within the first forty-eight hours of their time there. Journalistsbecame the primary target of the enemy. They did not want the world to be exposed to the inhuman warfare happening there. Some even claimed conspiracies that state that our own soldiers are the ones shooting these brave journalists. My brother had always been stubborn. A week later, he was on his way to the warzone. That was the last time I had heard from him though he had promised me to call on my birthday.
I opened my eyes and exited the flashbacks. I was sitting in a room with a therapist in front of me.
“What happened to your brother?” she asked. I grew silent and my eyes dropped. I answered regardless. In a quiet voice, I informed her that Joey had died.
“It took me a couple of weeks to realize it.” I felt like I was being interrogated, the room did not provide enough light for me to see her face.
“When did he die?”
“November 24th, 2008. He arrived there November 22nd.”
“Two days, more than most journalists who went decided to record the events in warzone.”
“He still died!” I raised my voice, even through the darkness I could sense her signalling me to calm down.
“I know, how did you handle the news?”
“Like I said, it took me a couple of days to realize that he’s gone.”
“And when you did?”
“I joined the army. Became a sniper, you’ve seen my record.” It was required by law that I see a therapist, to make sure that I am still mentally intact after partaking in the horrifying war.
“Yes, it’s quite impressive. Joined right on your eighteenth birthday. Only half a year of military training, four months of guerrilla warfare, switched into a sniper program for your remarkable steady hands and patience. Over three hundred killed by your hands, you took part in important missions in winning the war, even infiltrated their ranks and assassinated their leader and leaving without the war without a scratch.”
“It’s nothing to be proud of.”
“Indeed, but that is why we are here.”
“To make sure that I don’t crack and start killing everyone.”
“That’s one way of putting it. It also says you were awarded by the president with an award that boasts you are the greatest asset in winning the war?”
“I infiltrated the enemies’ ranks; stole their plans, anything and everything connected to their military, our government had a copy of it. I became their leader’s most trusted bodyguard, and I killed him myself.”
“But I thought you were a sniper.”
“For the first two years that I joined.”
“Then in the last six months, you were undercover? How brave of you.”
I scoffed at my therapist. What fuelled my bravery was revenge for the innocent blood they have spilled. I couldn’t care less about the awards and the medals, as long as I was the one to murder my brother’s murderer.
She asked me my purpose in joining the army. I knew she knew it was because of my brother. Revenge was how they pulled in most of their soldiers. I felt another flashback coming to life.
Two days after my brother had left; our whole family was on edge. We were praying that we would never hear our family member’s name mentioned on the news as they report of another journalist slaying. Not a moment went by that there wasn’t a radio turned on or a television tuned into the news. Then one fateful twenty-fifth, it happened. The media calls it the most horrifying event ever to be seen by the world. The enemy had hacked into every television and radio station in our country. They all played the same thing. The scene started out with a journalist being beaten. Then a man came up to the camera and claimed he is the leader of our enemy. Then after saying how we are to lose the war because they are superior and they are armed without mercy. He picked up the journalist who was in the background and shot him right between the eyes. The tape was dated on the twenty-fourth of November. There was nothing we could do. We were too horrified to close the television. We were all in a state of shock especially because it was my brother that was made an example of. That’s when I snapped. Made it my mission to take revenge. I would not stand idly by and have my hero be made an example. I was ready to defend his honour and everything he stood for. Worst of all, they played it on my birthday. I ran to the outpost in our city and signed up. I insisted they let me start right away and when I told them that it was my brother who was murdered across the globe they called for the commanding general. The general saw the anger and hate in my eyes and agreed to my request.
“Looking back on it,” I couldn’t help but feel the same anger I felt back then, “My anger and need for revenge is what kept me alive. I’ve been shot once and the doctors said it would be fatal. I was sniped but I shot back at my shooter, right between the eyes. He shot right through my wall. The doctor said the bullet just missed my heart but I bled too much and was going to die.”
“Yes, it mentions that here too. What a miracle don’t you agree?”
“Miracles are not for murderers. By then, I killed over two hundred people already and not all of those kills where by sniper.”
“How do you know that you were over two hundred?”
“I was a sniper for two years, but I was also a part of the guerilla night raids. We would burn down villages and cities and I would count every single body that fell motionless because of my action. I could still see the tears in their eyes as they begged for mercy.”
“And you shot them because you were ordered to?”
“No, because I hated them all. I didn’t care if they were innocent. My hate raged in me.”
“Are you still hateful?”
“How can I not? They globalized my brother’s death. It’s only been a year since the war ended. The memories are still fresh.”
“There have been a lot of conspiracies running around even after the war, which one speaks the truth?”
“About how our country murdered their entire army personnel, hunted them down like game. The government paid us a hundred for every soldier we killed. It was called Operation Genocide, and with the help of their military database, we knew their whole personnel. We would kill the target, and take his fingerprint signed in his own blood as proof of their death. We murdered over eight thousand people in that operation. Eight thousand people who thought the war was over, who surrendered willingly and hid for their lives. We found them, all of them.”
“They would’ve done the same if they won, probably worse.”
“We’ll never know. The entire world knows we are monsters, our government did not give mercy and we all deserve to burn in hell. My brother would be ashamed of me.”
“You did as you were told.”
“Regardless, I became what he stood against. He would never look at me again.”
“You’re Catholic, right?”
“Yes.”
“Then you’ll see him in the afterlife.”
“No, I’ll be in hell. He’ll be looking down on me, crying. Everyone who partook in that operation is going to die.”
“That’s just crazy talk.”
“Really? Tell me, how many of the twenty four people that were enlisted to carry out that operation are alive?” She did not reply. “I’m the last one left. Everyone else died and their murderer always committed suicide to avoid interrogation, because we would’ve torn them apart. They’re taking revenge back for what we did. And there’s only one more left.”
“You’re hiding in the most secure place in the world. There is no way anyone can get you here. There is only one door, the windows are ten inches thick of bulletproof glass and there is only one key in the whole world that opens up the lock in your reinforced door. If this location was hit by a bomb, your room would be the only one still intact.” Her voice signified that she was becoming annoyed with my realistic mindset.
“Do you not see? I am not safe anywhere. I am to die because God knows the evil I have done and He is going to right my wrongs. Justice will be served. I’ve accepted the fact that I am going to die. I will not live to see my twenty fourth birthday. It’s just a matter of time.”
“Why do you have little faith in your fellow soldiers?”
“Because nothing stands in the way of revenge. That’s how I survived. Do you know who shot my brother?”
“Their leader.”
“Exactly, I killed their leader. No one knew who he was until he made that appearance. The person who died before me was our president’s body guard. That means they could’ve killed the president if they wanted to. We are dealing with a powerful group. Whoever is leading this vendetta against me and my twenty three dead comrades knew us personally.”
She got up, indicating our time was up. I think she had become less and less patient with me. But she knew I spoke the truth. I was not safe anywhere. They relocated me to this base in order for them to catch the last assassin before he commits suicide in hopes of ending this group who had proved themselves to be powerful.
Later that night, I sat on my bed. I felt my death coming so sleep was not an option. The lights turned suddenly shut down, the whole building went nocturnal. I heard bodies dropping outside my door then a beep, indicating someone used the only key to open the door. The heavy door slowly opened and a man in our uniform was standing before me. He closed the door behind him. He looked at me and I knew what was to happen next. Another flashback came to life. I recognized his face. He spoke to me, claiming he was the son of the leader. Then it all came together. How my comrades and I were found so easily. He was my partner when I was undercover. It all made sense; he was a spy working under my country’s enemy. He was assigned as my partner because he defected from the enemy. He was right there when I shot his father exactly like how my brother was shot. It happened when the leader’s mansion was being raided by my allies. The leader, my partner and I hid in the secure room underneath the mansion. I shot the leader without hesitation. I didn’t want him to beg for his life because my partner had been there. If I was alone with him, I would’ve made him beg for death. My partner testified to my government that I was the one who shot the leader. When their leader’s death was made public, their army began to crumble. After the war, my partner was given a life in my country, as the promise to anyone who defects to the other side. I thought that would be the last time I see him. Then after Operation Genocide, he became the leader in protecting those who were a part of that operation.
He closed the door behind me; I made no attempt in saving myself.
“You act like your comrades did.”
“You mean our comrades, and it is because we deserve to die.”
“Then you are not so heartless after all. I always thought you were demons sent from hell.”
“The other twenty three are already there.”
“And you will join them soon enough. Tell me, why do you not save yourself? You have a gun right next to you.”
“Because killing myself is taking the coward’s way out. Revenge is more than enough reason for a mortal to defy the laws of nature.”
“You killed my father before my eyes.”
“You’re father killed my brother and televised it to the world.”
“I guess we’ll be dining in hell from here now own.” He aimed his gun at me.
“Revenge only leads to more revenge.”
“No, I made sure that this war ends with the two of us. There will be no one left to hold a grudge when we die.”
“Why must you kill yourself after?” He smiled, and chuckled. I realized the stupidity of my question. The most secure place in the world, I thought to myself, “But why make the others kill themselves?”
“They took on the task gladly. After what your government did to my country, they wanted revenge. They knew that they would not survive torture and took the easy way out. At least this way, revenge is cut before it is to grow.”
“And you being here is a testimony to the growth in revenge. It was inevitable.”
“Like how I knew my father’s death would be inevitable. I saw it in your eyes when I infiltrated your army and was assigned to be your partner.” The lights came back on. Someone began pounding at my door.
“I congratulate you, this whole operation of yours was brilliantly planned and executed.” I smiled and looked outside the window for one last time.
“May God have mercy on your soul.”
“And on yours.” I replied.
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
Revelation
As I sit here, in front of my LCD screen
Thinking deeply about how I'm almost eighteen
What I've gone through has truly been an adventure
From a slacker to a perfectionist, and yes, I'm sure
That I attempt to make perfection at every side
I won't quit until I am perfect from every side
Its a new found revelation, and I should mention
That this revelation has gotten rid of tension
Between myself and my mind, a devastating war
No signs of a clear winner, peace is still quite far
And I'm starting to take casualties mentally
But I'll reach perfection, eventually
Physically impossible, not even plausible
But I am above average, I'll make it possible
Unattainable, that's my finishing line
Either way, I'll make that possibility mine!
Thinking deeply about how I'm almost eighteen
What I've gone through has truly been an adventure
From a slacker to a perfectionist, and yes, I'm sure
That I attempt to make perfection at every side
I won't quit until I am perfect from every side
Its a new found revelation, and I should mention
That this revelation has gotten rid of tension
Between myself and my mind, a devastating war
No signs of a clear winner, peace is still quite far
And I'm starting to take casualties mentally
But I'll reach perfection, eventually
Physically impossible, not even plausible
But I am above average, I'll make it possible
Unattainable, that's my finishing line
Either way, I'll make that possibility mine!
Another Quick Sixteen/Rant
I thought I conquered my emotions
Never listening to their stupid notions
Caring for another person, how stupid
And if I ever get my hands around Cupid
I would cuss him off for using me as target practice
Never having to miss, playing with me like I was his
But I hold my own destiny and writing's my remedy
To keep me away from falling in love heavily
Locked in my brain, that's how I'll stay sane
Forever going to feign, just to cover up the pain
From Cupids previous hits, Damn, can't he call it quits?
At this rate I'll need to own my own medic kit
There is no cure for the symptoms from Cupids arrows
You'll just have to deal with it, your vision turns narrow
Nothing else will matter except being with who Cupid paired you with
Everything will feel perfect till one of you call it quits
-
Nothing's ever good enough. Cotdamn. Gotta get better, always. I can't seem to find that perfect picture, write the perfect poem, I don't think I'm great at anything. I'm just not satisfied with my own work, with myself. My pictures, my poems, I always see flaw in it, like it's not that awe-ing. People tell me it is, but I just don't see what they see. All I know is I just have to keep getting better and keep improving in all aspects of life. Impossible or not, I will reach perfection.
New motto: There's always room for improvement.
Never listening to their stupid notions
Caring for another person, how stupid
And if I ever get my hands around Cupid
I would cuss him off for using me as target practice
Never having to miss, playing with me like I was his
But I hold my own destiny and writing's my remedy
To keep me away from falling in love heavily
Locked in my brain, that's how I'll stay sane
Forever going to feign, just to cover up the pain
From Cupids previous hits, Damn, can't he call it quits?
At this rate I'll need to own my own medic kit
There is no cure for the symptoms from Cupids arrows
You'll just have to deal with it, your vision turns narrow
Nothing else will matter except being with who Cupid paired you with
Everything will feel perfect till one of you call it quits
-
Nothing's ever good enough. Cotdamn. Gotta get better, always. I can't seem to find that perfect picture, write the perfect poem, I don't think I'm great at anything. I'm just not satisfied with my own work, with myself. My pictures, my poems, I always see flaw in it, like it's not that awe-ing. People tell me it is, but I just don't see what they see. All I know is I just have to keep getting better and keep improving in all aspects of life. Impossible or not, I will reach perfection.
New motto: There's always room for improvement.
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
A Quick Sixteen
It's been a while. I thought I'd finish this one up.
I blast them fools, with my mass of tools
You massing drool as I pass you dudes
Your lines are crude, I have you mute
You talking big, but you're so minute
I'm only seventeen, reaching for my dreams
I'll murder anybody who's not on my team
Like a suicide bomber, I'm blowing shit up
I'm new to the game, but I cannot be stopped
Put you to shame, I'm bringing back the flame
Shooting MCs with a blind man's aim
This isn't a claim, it's a fact of life
I'll have you murdered while I fuck your wife
Yes, I'm cynical, I won't get biblical
But you'll be praying to your god when I crush your skull
You're so gullible, of course I'm not serious
Just don't even try to get me furious
lawl.
Yes, I know it's not the best. But I felt like I needed to write a quick sixteen. And it was definitely a quick sixteen. Sloppy work. Picture has no relevance. Anyways, I wanted to rant about something but I guess I got it out with the quick sixteen.
But I'll update you in my current projects. I am writing some ideas for a story and some ideas for my next photoshoot. I am honestly starting to take photography seriously and I am looking forward to becoming a full fledged photographer. It's my passion and I'd love to get paid to do something I truly love. Of course, I still love writing, but I'm not sure if journalism is the right career for me. Oh well, I'm still seventeen. Still got a lot of options. I'm still young. Anyways, that's it for today readers. Sorry I've been somewhat MIA. Lots of things to deal with. I'll talk to you guys soon.
I blast them fools, with my mass of tools
You massing drool as I pass you dudes
Your lines are crude, I have you mute
You talking big, but you're so minute
I'm only seventeen, reaching for my dreams
I'll murder anybody who's not on my team
Like a suicide bomber, I'm blowing shit up
I'm new to the game, but I cannot be stopped
Put you to shame, I'm bringing back the flame
Shooting MCs with a blind man's aim
This isn't a claim, it's a fact of life
I'll have you murdered while I fuck your wife
Yes, I'm cynical, I won't get biblical
But you'll be praying to your god when I crush your skull
You're so gullible, of course I'm not serious
Just don't even try to get me furious
lawl.
Yes, I know it's not the best. But I felt like I needed to write a quick sixteen. And it was definitely a quick sixteen. Sloppy work. Picture has no relevance. Anyways, I wanted to rant about something but I guess I got it out with the quick sixteen.
But I'll update you in my current projects. I am writing some ideas for a story and some ideas for my next photoshoot. I am honestly starting to take photography seriously and I am looking forward to becoming a full fledged photographer. It's my passion and I'd love to get paid to do something I truly love. Of course, I still love writing, but I'm not sure if journalism is the right career for me. Oh well, I'm still seventeen. Still got a lot of options. I'm still young. Anyways, that's it for today readers. Sorry I've been somewhat MIA. Lots of things to deal with. I'll talk to you guys soon.
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