Writing

I wonder why I write. That may sound strange to some people, especially those who know that I write pretty often. Writing poetry is often a painful experience. Let me explain.

When I am writing, it takes a lot for me to be coherent. It is mentally strenuous. Anyone who tells you otherwise is lying. When I am done writing, I am happy yet I feel a lot of strain. I want my thoughts to be not only beautiful but make sense. Writing is an excercise that only that mentally strong should partake.

Secondly, when I write, I feel more in touch with my insane side. I feel that boundary between the sane and insane get a little smaller. I cannot explain it. Maybe it is the crazy artist syndrome.

Working Part 2

I decided against taking the job. I dont want to knock on other people's door.

Working

I have found a job that cannot be monotonous. Knocking on people's door cannot be boring. No I am not a Jehovah's Witness. I am a political activist person. Laugh at me. Its ok.

The consequences of unprotected sex

My penis itches
I may have gonorrhea
Yellow stuff oozes

My Freshman Year

My freshman year is almost over and now I am taking the time to reflect on it.

This year has been filled with a whirlwind of change. I left a large, diverse, cosmoplitan area to live in a colorless town (I mean that in many ways). I left an old relationship that was like the monkey on a heroin addict's back for one that has a newness and brings a freshness to my life. I now have a slew of new friends that I did not have when I first got up here. I lived without adult supervision for the first time (I mean in a technical sense). My habits are completely different. My look is different. My mentally has changed. Nothing is the same. Even when I come home. I now live in a different neighborhood. This year has changed so much for me.

I do not regret coming to Mercyhurst. There are things that I dislike but overall, I have really enjoyed my stay here. I hope to continue to enjoy it here. I do not want to leave. I really dont. I love my dorm. I will miss my 3rd floor McAuley fellows. You all mean a lot to me. I love you all, like brothers. We have survived our first year of college. Many people don't.

Homework

Sadly, I have become homework's little bitch. I spend most of my time doing homework. Why? Because I have to do well. Plus I have an insane amount of ahomework to do anyway. I hate i. I really do. I will pray for the demise of homework.

Medora

There are very few times when a man is actually happy. Now I feel content. I really do.

Why We Are All Sick

For the past 3 weeks, every person on my floor has been sick. I mean everyone. Jared has a swollen neck, I had a fever and lost my voice, Irish Chris was in the hospital, and the list goes on. There has been an epidemic on the 3rd floor and I was scared.

But I know why we have all been sick. Women. Lately, there have been more women up here on the floor than normal. Everyone has been subjected to being aroud females more than normally and we have paid for it. When we were little, girls had cooties and we avoided them. By believeing this, our health was protected. We did not get sick as much. Now that we have been exposed to women more, we get sick more. Especially here at Mercyhurst because sickness has been widespread among them (females). Mono was being passed and all that shit. Now that our building, our safehaven, has been exposed to these foul craven, we now are paying the cost. We must purify McAuley Hall of this pestilence. Kill the heretic!!!

Sickness (Dedicated to the 3rd Floor McAuley)

I am writing this blog for all the sick homies on my floor. I am so sad to see you all succumb to the various diseases that are out there. Especially since warm weather is arriving. I love you all and I hope you all get better. Do not give in. Let your will and health be indomitable.

Pockets

One day I this past week I was doing laundry. A sudden realization occured while cleaning out my pockets: pockets are the greatest thing in the world. They really are. Especially my pockets. They are little time capsules that provide vignettes of my day. I can recall a whole week by whatever is in my pockets. Pens, numbers, notes, and other random objects are always in my pockets. Each of these objects have a story behind it. Its like a miniature archaeological excavation every time I do laundry. I love pockets. Indeed I do

St. Patrick's Day

This is a day where everyone is Irish. I mean, all these white people I know claim to have some Irish in them. I have never come across that many "Irish" people in my life. Oh well. I guess people will drink themselves to death.

Gladiator

There was a dream that was Rome. You could only whisper it. Anything more than a whisper and it would vanish, it was so fragile - Marcus Aurelius

School

I am doing well in my classes. I am doing homework before midnite. My goalis to get a 3.3. I am gonna get it.

The Second Coming

I had lost all my motivation once I got to college. I don't know why. I had this drive in high school. This I-won't-quit-until-my-last-breath drive. In high school, nothing could ever stop me from accomplishing anything. Nothing. Through all the drama, the ups and downs, the bullshit, the craziness, I survived. Now that my life is relatively easy, I have lost my motivation.

I am going back to school. I will do a lot better. I will attend clas more. My grades will get better. I will become a better person. I will change. That drive is coming back. This is my second coming. A change is gonna come.

I Let Her Go

I finally let the ex go. I really did. I told her that there will be no more communication between us. It has to be that way since she has a new person. It would only be fair. She does not like my decision but she will have to live with it. I believe I am doing what is right. Only time can tell. No more penis induced decisions!!! Viva la Revolucion!!!!

Dentist Trip

I went to the dentist twice yesterday. Not because I think he is coool but because I had to. I went for my normal cleaning and he found a cavity. Then he also took out my top left wisdom tooth because it was bothering my gum on the bottom. I came back later and he fixed me up. There was no pain at all. I was drowsy. I felt like I was high as a kite. Everything just kinda floated for a while. Then there is a funny part. I tried to gargle while my mouth was still numb. The water fell right out. It was straight from a retard movie.

Today I did nothing. Yet I am so happy.

Genius Idea

I have a genius idea. I am going to create a Player's Bible. It makes sense. There is a Women's Bible that focuses on issues that women have. There is a Men's Bible. Damnit, King James even got his own Bible. I feel that players are represented in the Bible. King David was a player. He took people's wives. Solomon was a player with a bunch of wives. Jesus even had some women on the side. So why can't players get a BiBLE?? I am gonna make one. It is gonna be a massive undertaking but I can do it

My poem to Vanessa

Why??? (Dedicated to Amelia Diaz)

Why do I feel for you
when you are numb to me??
Why do I want to hear your voice
when I know it is not calling for me??
Why do I want your kiss
When you give the small ones on my cheek,
So bland
They are only given out of friendship, not desire
Why do I crave to see you
When my comings and goings mean nothing to you??
Amelia, Amelia
Don’t you understand?
I need to want to need you!!
Amelia
Why do you make me ask these questions?
Why do I ask these questionsWhen I don’t want to know the answer?

Going home

I finally get to go home. Now I love the 3rd floor. I really do. I just am really glad to be going back. I am going back to a place where the eggs are plastic. I am going back to where I see Black people!!! I really miss seeing Black people. I really do. I am going back to a place where I can actually win at video games. Home is a place where homework does not exist and there are no test and quizzes. I am going home.........