The Distance Between Is Nothing But Static

I’m standing on the edge of this city.
It’s far too dark to see what’s beyond the water and skylines.
But I know what’s there.
What will happen if we jump?
Will we be disconnected, but still somehow there?
What will happen if we take the risk?

I’m standing on the edge of this city.
Enveloped in all the static of a timeline torn apart.
There’s distance between us and them, you and me.
What will happen if we run away?
Will we be disconnected, but still somehow there?
What will happen if we take the risk?

I’m standing on the edge of this city.
We won’t take the fall, we can’t.
I’m standing on the edge of forever.
We will run away, we have to.

We’re standing on the edge of this city.
Static is all the binds.
We’re standing on the edge of forever.

You need to accept it.

© Copyright November 2009

Advertisements

Procrastination At Its Finest?

Procrastination. It’s completely normal. Almost like human nature. Almost, not quite yet. People become preoccupied with a hundred different things at once or something called laziness takes over and what needs to get done won’t be finished ’til the last-minute. Sadly, I have succumb to dreaded procrastination more than once, but for some reason I think that streak of surrendering is somehow coming to an end.

I’ll be completely honest: I’m not a big fan of research papers. The first research paper I had to do was last school year, and it wasn’t that fun. Being a new school year now, I have to do another required paper. Thankfully, this paper is easier and not due at the end of the year, as with the latter. There is a topic, not a thesis. An author, not an issue that we agree or disagree with.

Needless to say, this year’s research paper is on an author of our choosing or one that we were reading. Chosen by the student, nonetheless. It seemed like most people picked the first author that came to their head, like they didn’t really think about. Their brains just said ‘write down this name and pass the paper to the next person.’ I had no idea what author I would do a paper on. I had about five lined up, with obviously one being the victor. Unsure which author should be cut from my list, I chose two. Yeah, that probably sounds like a hassle or that I’m being a ‘teacher’s pet’ or something, but that’s not it at all. I thought the only way to get some kind of point across would be to do two papers on two completely different authors.

I have to admit, I was kind of surprised by the reactions I got when I was asked by fellow students what author I was doing my paper on. It’s not like the answer was different each time, it was the same every time. Dante Alighieri and Hunter S. Thompson. I got this bleak, almost dumbfounded look each and every time. Granted, I didn’t fully know about Dante until I saw something on the History Channel. I knew that he wrote Inferno, but didn’t know THAT much about him. As with Thompson, I didn’t know he wrote Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas until I saw the movie starring the beloved Johnny Depp. I did a little research after seeing the movie, thus finding even more about him. So, I guess I can’t really say that I’m surprised, but it sort of just shows that either I read too much or other people don’t read at all.

If anything really surprised me, though, it would have to be the fact that I’ve already gotten the majority of the information on my idols. Which isn’t something I usually do. For my previous research paper, I procrastinated and I felt like it wasn’t the best I could write, or write and research. I just flat-out wasn’t very happy with it, and I actually want to be happy with the things I write. Whether it be recreational creativity or not. The entire reason why I’m starting this paper a month early. Call it me breaking the curse of procrastination or not, but my motivation is probably at its best right now. I can’t say the same thing for volleyball, though. My motivation for that is still up in the air.

My motivation for writing definitely doesn’t lack foundation and the breakdown.

Better With A Comfy Sweater & Chiodos

A while ago I said that the volleyball that was played during my gym class was pretty boring and not very amazing. I think we’re getting better, though. I’m not sure if I can say the same for myself, considering the fact I got hit in the head with the ball in our first real class game Thursday.

It’s typical protocol to wear the required gym attire to class every day. A pair of shorts and T-shirt, along with the occasional hoodie. Pretty simple. The majority of the time, I’m in the proper wear of surf shorts and the random shirt of the day. Thursday, I had my black shorts and dark purple Nightmare Before Christmas tee. My iPod shuffle was attached at my hip, as it has been ever since I realized I get pretty motivated through loud music. I didn’t bother to play it during the game, though. I figured I would try and actually pay attention for once. It didn’t get me very far…

I’ll admit, volleyball games have gotten better. The people playing actually do something now, with the exception on some days. I’m hardly ever bored when playing. That is, unless there’s another class in the gym, and everyone decides to gather to the net. Something like that can get really annoying if you’re wanting to actually play a game. With that once-and-a while-occasion, it’s a pretty good day in gym usually. All and all, I’d say we’ve improved.

…I’m not even sure how far into the game we were. All I knew was that the team I was on wasn’t hitting anything for a while and the other team was winning. We were obviously losing. The ball was coming right at me, which was probably the second or third time it’d came to me the entire game. The hit would’ve been perfect if I hadn’t move forward. Thinking I would move up so it didn’t hit the ground, I quickly moved up a little so I could ‘bump’ it. Bad move. I moved too far up and instead of hitting off my wrists as it usually did, the blue and white volleyball hit me on the right side of my dark red head. At first, I honestly wasn’t sure what happened. My team mates were giving me grief because I didn’t hit it, and the fact that I got hit in the head, added injury to insult. I quickly blew it off; something stupid like that didn’t matter anyway. I was definitely reminded of the game for the rest of the day. The collision that involved my head and the ball gave me the craziest headache, and maybe even knocked a little bit of sense into me. Only time will tell.

Whether be out of sheer laziness, a headache, or the fact that it was Friday, I didn’t bring my gym clothes yesterday. I had my shorts and shirt in my gym bag, all ready to be worn come third period. I just happened to ‘accidently’ forget them on the couch. Okay, it was all on purpose, but that gesture made me realize something. I’m a lot better at volleyball when I’m not appropriately dressed for gym. I walked out of the locker room in my super comfy, super fuzzy black sweater and Chiodos blasting in my ears…I played pretty awesome. For some reason, I was actually motivated to play, despite the fact I was just in regular clothes. Who knew that comfortable clothes and loud music could be a motivator for volleyball?

I exited the gym a little late, but it was worth it. My wrists were red under the sleeves of my black sweater and music still going through my green earbuds. It was a good 40 minutes of gym.

My motivation for sports lacks foundation and the breakdown.