Archives of a Teen Blog

I have hereby made this blog public again.

For whoever may find use in the thoughts expressed from the writing of a young teen.

Who held so much to discover, and wrought out his emotions in the likes of such.

-Will

A Rather Productive Sunday

Today I decided to change my approach to things.

I wrote down what I wanted to accomplish and set a deadline for myself.  I labeled the heading of a notebook paper: "Quest Log" and wrote: 

• "Complete 2 sections of math before noon."  

I then folded the piece of paper up, put it in my pocket--and went through my daily routine of fixing myself scrambled eggs and toast. 

Something changed in my head. 


Something was definitely different as I started cooking myself breakfast.  I was actually thinking about homework and how much I wanted to get started on it to finish it in time.  At this point I realized that as long as I set a goal for myself--a visually attainable concept--all I had to do was follow the arrows to the best of my ability. 

Fastforward to noon--I got it all done.  It was pretty damn incredible because I forgot what it was like to really sit down and just do work.  It was very satisfying.  The truth is, I haven't been trying at all in school.  I haven't really been working.  I haven't really been living my life to the best of my ability and I feel as if a drastic change is called for.  I'm going to change.  I'm going to write down what I need to get done.  I'm going to start setting "Quests" in my log and actually visualize what needs to happen.

I need to start living.

I need to start being.

I need to start now. 

Closed Off.

I have hereby rendered this blog private. 

I have blocked my followers. 

I hope I may now speak the words that have long been waiting to be spoken. 

Tumblr .

Not Really. 

Hold On. I Have It!

We race
to the death of our lives
We race
for the thrill
We race
in spite of ourselves
We race
to Kill
The time off our hands
to Kill
The pity
to Kill
The feelings we don't want
to Kill
This City
is draining our reserves
This City
is dull
This City
is waiting for you now
This City
is....

Damn. 

I lost it this time. 

A Muse(d)

I love that smile that I see
When she's staring straight at me
Oh God that symmetry
Could leave me dead

But as I lean to turn my head
I meet these eyes I've never met
They don't smile but for a while
They speak to me

It's at that moment that I know
That past the looks and all the show
There's nothing prettier to me
More than thought

Quick (Real)ization

Some people have "pretty" in their genes. 

In the grand scheme of things...

I think it hurts more than it helps. 

I think I'd lose a lot of personality too if I was really good looking.  Who needs the hassle of building character when you've got looks to carry you?  We are social creatures after all; if the judgement of our peers bears overwhelming approval as it is, based on our "beauty," what more is there?  And that seems shallow of me.  Even stupid, you might say.  It is stupid.  It's all so very very stupid. 

Which is why I sometimes want to take life and punch it in the face. 

Pretty empty heads
--like frozen flower beds--
are as pretty as they are dead 

On the other hand, it's incredibly poetic. 

Oh life, how poetic you are. 


Still.

Nothing is beautiful about someone whose salient characteristic is based on what their DNA gave them.  No, that's called luck.  There's no value in luck.  Not in my book. 

In the past few days--I've realized something.  They're not all the same.  Females aren't all just different individuals.  --No, that's a lie every nice guy believes. 

 That's why I think I might categorize the female sex as: 

• Chicks
• Girls
• Women
• People

The Chicks are the girls who are easily seduced, easily angered, easily made upset, and easily the most bland type of female there is.  "Let's pick up Chicks." 

The Girls can be on either end of the innocent-devlish spectrum; the distinction is in their mannerism and the current course they're on.  I've had a relationship with a girl--she liked to write romance and cook orange chicken.  "She's a nice girl."  

The Women are the ones with maturity, prestige, maybe even a decent amount of smarts.  However, I see this very label as a stereotype as well--though not nearly as bad as "Chicks."  Women can be down right crazy.  But they're a great catch compared to the above.  "Damn.  Women." 

Finally, the Person.  The person doesn't fall into any of the above categories because they simply don't seem to fit the label.  You don't think of her as a Chick, or really just a Girl, or a Woman.  You see her for her genuine personality.  I think the key here is that PEOPLE are real.  PEOPLE come to mind when I think about hope, good, intelligence, overall positivity.  When I think of partner-for-life, I don't think of a chick or a woman or a girl.  I think about a person.  This makes perfect sense to me in my world; you may not see the lines I've drawn around these words but I think it fits well from my experience. 

It's funny because I was just thinking, one day, about how I haven't met a lot girls around here who just seemed real.  Tonight, my father tried to explain to me something (about a different topic) and asked me this: 

"Where do you go to find pumpkins, son?"
"...the pumpkin patch."
"That's right.  The pumpkin patch." 

Of course.  That's why. 


I have to keep reminding myself that this is a fucking desert.  (But where is the pumpkin patch?  I'd bet bunnies it's somewhere near San Francisco.)

Anyway, back to my original thesis: 

Pretty genes can make an ugly personality. 

Especially here.

In Temecula.