Old School Love Affair

I know I’ve said this before. Friends can suck. Old school friends can suck. You think that you’ll be friends ‘forever’ until one or all of them become stupid and ignorant. I’ve said this before. I know I have.

The friends I knew in junior high are totally different people.  Whether I talk to all of them or not. I know this all too well.  When I first met them, it seemed automatic, be nice to the new girl or something. I thought that maybe it was just a phase or nice gesture that wouldn’t last. It did last, though. Something connected us and, at the time, no one could break that. Most of my friends then were guys, with the exception of one girl, and no, it was nothing like what you’re probably thinking. At the school I’d went to before, all my friends were girls, so it was kind of weird that most of my friends at my new school were guys.

Back then, some 5 or 6 years ago, we were the greatest of friends. There was this kind of camaraderie between all my friends and I. Honestly, I sometimes miss that. Other times, I just get sick that I even knew those people then, and that I know them now. Or at least I think I know them. It’s amazing what you can learn about people, or how annoyed you can become with people you’ve known long enough to the point that it’s ok to become annoyed by something they say or do. Sometimes, it just gets to that point.

Needless to say, as I’ve already pretty much stated, I miss the old school camaraderie my friends and I once shared. Before we all went our separate ways. Before two of them became wrapped up in the ever-so-popular party scene. Before one of them changed completely. Before one of them became incredibly induced with the ‘love of their life’. Before one of them committed suicide…My God don’t you just adore today’s youth? I say it’s pretty appalling.

Friends can suck. Old school friends can suck even more. You know this. I know this. I’ve said this. I just did.

Lay in the wake of a friendship that will never die, or for some, die too quickly.

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Uneventful Game of ‘Wits’

Forget volleyball. It’s not that I’ve given up playing volleyball. That’s not the case at all. I just refuse to get plowed over by people who are taller and stronger than me. Or to play with people who have no idea how to play. Not my cup of lemon tea…

The volleyball net is in the middle of the gym, with two basketball hoops on either side. There are two gym classes the period I have gym, my gym class and the other gym class. This usually means that boys who hope to be the next big thing in basketball, totally dominate both of the hoops.  Heightening the risk for me or really anyone else, to be ran over by ignorant boys. The entire reason why I don’t even bother playing volleyball.

Yesterday, it seemed like there were somehow more people than there were last week. More than likely the reason why we weren’t penalized if we didn’t wear our appropriate gym attire. I took advantage of this opportunity. I forgot my clothes in my locker upstairs anyway.  For some reason, I just didn’t feel like even doing anything. I wasn’t physically ready for gym, and I couldn’t help but count the minutes til my last bell of the day rang.

Despite the fact there were more people, there weren’t as many guys playing basketball. I figured I actually would pass the time playing volleyball. I wish I hadn’t. I wish I had finished the last 8 pages of the book I was reading. Part of me appreciates that I did. It only confirmed how irritating people can be. I know that it’s not easy playing volleyball. When I first started playing in 6th grade, I sucked, but over time I became better. But not being able to hit the ball straight? To the person right in front of you? It’s not that hard. Some people aren’t athletic and what not, but it’s not complicated.

The teams were pretty freakin’ uneven. There were, like, 6 or 7 people on the opposing team, and 4 on the team I was on. They weren’t in any type of positions, either. Just one semi-straight line of people, waiting for the ball to come their way. Some people were hitting the ball too hard, others too lightly. After awhile, I didn’t even hit the ball if it came to me. I didn’t care. Very uneventful. It was a pretty pointless game. Wished I hadn’t played.

Just another way people can get on my nerves and force me to look down on them because they’re ignorant. This is just a whole lot of ranting. Plenty more to come in the future.

Physical education = A joke

Never Forgotten?

I watched the speedometer’s needle go to 20. The speed limit was 15. I tried to distract myself…Blaring “Vendetta” by Slipknot on my iPod, trying to drown out any words being said. Looking out the open window at the planes flying so low that I felt like I could touch them. I even clutched the large Vanilla Latte that I’d purchased before continuing onto my final destination. I don’t know why I ordered a hot coffee on such a sticky, humid day, but I did…Anything to keep my mind off the task at hand.

I don’t know if I’d really been looking forward to yesterday or dreading it. I honestly don’t know. I think I just wanted to get it over and done with. The cemetery looked even bigger than it did a year ago. Granted, everything looks bigger and alot more clearer if you haven’t been there in awhile. My mom asked me where she wanted us to park, and I told her. She asked me if I was sure. I was sure. 100% sure. We got out of the car and I immediately walked over to where I’d remembered it was. Apparently, my memory wasn’t as good as I thought because he wasn’t there…I couldn’t find my friend.

I hadn’t been there since last year, but my one best friend had been there later last year, so I called her and asked her exactly where it was. I already knew where it was, but like I said, my memory isn’t that good. She told me and I started walking. After 5 minutes of walking, I became extremely aggravated. Mostly from the heat because it was so hot and humid and because I had a feeling I would never find it. I must have been walking, literally, like an hour around the same section of the cemetery, looking for my friend. Finally, my mom suggested that go inside the office there and ask one of the professionals that work there. I was relieved.

Right when I walked into the office, I felt my body temp go down about 10, maybe 20 degrees. Okay the 20 degrees is exaggerated, but I felt instantly cooler walking in. I asked the woman behind the desk if she could help me find a grave, which obviously she could since she worked there. I gave her the name and she explained it, providing me with a map of the cemetery and where his grave is. She was very helpful and nicer than I honestly would’ve expected. I wish I would’ve caught her name.

I held the map tightly in my hand as my mom rode back to where we started. We both looked at the map and followed the instructions gave by the helpful, nice professional in the office. Even though we were looking in the correct place, we couldn’t find him. I was starting to think that maybe someone was screwing with me. That maybe all of this was a dream. That he was still alive and breathing at his house or with friends. My mind instantly flashed to that ever strange, but familiar room, with flowers galore and playing in the background was the music he loved. Of course it was true. No one was screwing with me. It was real.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, we found it. I must’ve walked past it five or six times before actually stopping to notice. I found it next to a headstone with 117 written in the lower right-hand corner, complete with a #2. According to the map, my friend’s grave was 117, #1. I found it, but it wasn’t at all what I thought. It was just a grave marker. No headstone. Or nothing else for that matter. No flowers, no teddy bears, nothing. Just a grave marker.

I was completely shocked. Tears filled my eyes as I looked at the discolored grass that was growing in just beyond the marker.

How could someone be so negligent? Especially parents? Especially friends? Yes, in an economy that’s rough as hell, it’s hard to afford things, but something like that should be a priority. One year later, and there isn’t even something immortalized in marble to show how amazing your son was? Spare me! That’s pure disrespect for someone who’s fallen. It just disgusted me that there was no headstone. It disgusted me even more that the only flower that I saw visible was the yellow rose I’d put into the ground. His own friends didn’t bother to remember him. Show that they miss him. Show that he wasn’t forgotten. Some friends. I at least thought they’d show that they still cared, still had enough sense to remember him. Just goes to show you how much people change. How much his friends, my friends, our friends changed.

My memory was just as good as I thought it was, I remembered. Never forgotten, huh? Some things just never change.

Live your life everyday like it’s your last because you never know what tomorrow brings.

 

Originality is a rarity/Annoyance of epic proportions

People annoy me. Sometimes, I’m just totally fed up and down-right sick of people. There are reasons I’m totally certain of and others that I’m not so certain of. Sometimes I’m just annoyed by people because I’m having a bad day, or my day becomes bad because of what people do or say. It just seems like people today have no sense. Absolutely nothing original radiates from their person. Everything about them is so…cliched and such a trend, and that just annoys the hell out of me.

It seems like almost everyday I’m discovering more and more ways that people can be so fake. People who go along with trends seriously annoy me. I just hate seeing people in outrageously form fitting skinny jeans, skin-tight hoodies, dyed black hair, and maybe some heavy eyeliner and/or an optional face piercing or two. I mean, yeah, that’s great and all, but it seems like everyone looks like that today. Everywhere I go, it’s like that’s all I see. I honestly don’t care how people dress or what they do with their lives, but with everyone at the mall or school looking the same…Gets really old, really quick.

Another thing that annoys me is these people are categorizing themselves as “emo”. Why the hell would you categorize yourself? Hello, it’s called being original, being yourself. NOT going by a category that everyone else is currently sporting. Or they decide to sport the label of “emo” because of the music currently on their iPod. Just because you listen to music that matches the supposed “darkness and emotional wreckage of your soul” or “how much you hate the world” that automatically makes you “emo”?  That just, as Peter Griffin would say, “really grinds my gears!” 🙂

The fact that people like that constantly complain about how no one “understands them” or how “everyone hates them”, is total crap. “I cut myself, and listen to music about dying” or “Let’s compare the scars on our wrists. Whose is deeper?” Gag me! That’s just ignorance at its finest. Trying to get attention because they feel like no one else will pay attention to them if they’re original. That contradiction is so incredibly pathetic. They think they own the world one minute, and complain about how much their life sucks the next. It’s disgusting. Get the hell over it! Complaining will get you nowhere. If you’re life sucks sooo much, then do something about it.

I’ll be totally honest…I do wear skinny jeans, fitted hoodies, and dye my hair. Think I’m apart of the trend? Guess again. I wear skinny jeans because I like the wear they fit and how they look on me. The fact that I’m petite does have its advantages. 😉 I wear fitted hoodies because I don’t like how bigger hoodies fit on me. Again, I’m kinda picky ’cause I’m tiny. My hair dye color of choice isn’t black, though. Personally, I like the way the dark red looks on me. Black would look really, well, not pretty on me. One of my friends from way back suggested I dye it black…Thankfully, I never went through with it. As for the heavy eyeliner and optional face piercing, I smudge my eyeliner just alittle, not to the extreme to where I look like I’m the walking dead, and I don’t have any piercings on my face. Although I hope to get my lip pierced after I get my braces off.

As for the music on my iPod, I listen to whatever I like. I don’t pay attention to genres or what everyone else is listening to. If I like, I’ll listen to it. It’s that easy to understand.

I dont’ follow any trends or conform to any labels. Plain and simple. I don’t categorize myself as anything because it’s a waste of time, and I don’t see myself fitting into a category at all. People who categorize themselves are too afraid of what others might think or to lose the supposed friends they’ve made. Ignorance at its finest.

Murder the trends and never-ending labels before they end up murdering your sense of strength.

“Burn It Down, Set Yourself Free”

My new favorite band, as of this moment in time, is the heavy metal band Suicide Silence. Most reviews I’ve read on their newest CD, “No Time To Bleed”, categorizes them as ‘deathcore’, which I suppose is a sub-genre of death metal and hardcore. I’m really starting to hate sub-genres. They’re just really annoying. Can’t people just listen to bands and enjoy them for their music? Instead of criticizing them and putting them in a certain genre. I’ve learned to totally not even pay attention to the genre. If I like a band because of their music, then dammit I’m going to listen to them, despite what people say. If I like something, I’m not even gonna listen to what people have to say. Opinions often don’t sway me.

In my opinion, they’re a really good band. Their sound is different from other metal bands, or ‘deathcore’ bands, as some people with no sense would say. Their sound is heavy, brutal, and totally in your face, which I happen to really enjoy when it comes to the whole metal genre. And yes, I know that most people would say that ALL metal bands are “heavy, brutal, and in totally in your face”, but it seems like ALL metal bands have different ways of accomplishing that said goal. Whether it’s a good accomplishment or not, it’s all up to who’s listening.

I think that lead singer, Mitch Lucker’s voice is amazing! One minute his voice can go from a deep, low growl to a partially high-pitched (not too high-pitched!) onslaught on your ears. XD Everything about them is awesome!

With a name like Suicide Silence, I was kind of unsure at first about what they would sound like. There are some bands that have relatively interesting names, but their music isn’t that good…

Last summer, most of my friends (well, pretty much all of them) and I were greeted with tragedy a week before school. One of my best friends of six years had committed suicide. When something like that happens, you kind of wanna steer away from anything with the name/word ‘suicide’ in because, honestly, it’s really depressing.

For some reason, though, I didn’t steer away from Suicide Silence. Maybe it’s the fact that it’s music and let’s face it, how could you steer away music? How can you just ignore something that helps you get through your day? You can’t. No matter what the name, it’s just not possible. I’m happy to say that despite what happened almost a year ago, with my friend (I love you, man!) that hasn’t stopped me from choosing what’s right, what’s wrong and singling out bands just because of their names.

Sometimes the worst tragedies can make way for the brightest beginnings and new experiences.

“Burn it down, set yourself free.” “Smoke” – Suicide SilenceSuicide Silence