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Midnight Project

Posts sent in: October 2012

15 Oct 2012 

Nostalgia

I'll be honest, I love being nostalgiac. I love to think back to everything that I've done...even the things that I'm not so proud of. Because at least I can say that I did them. I am living my life, I'm not existing, I'm not surviving, but I'm living. Last winter I was merely existing, sometimes living vicariously through Becca, but it's not the same as taking those chances yourself and seizing the moment. I make stupid, bad, rash decisions that are in the moment. I've gotten into more trouble than I could get myself out of and still here I am. Sometimes my nostalgia makes me angry and I end up saying or thinking things that I don't mean. Things that I come to regret later when I realize how useless it was to be angry. Because it's all in the past. But there are things that can still make me cry if I think about them. I honestly let myself cry a lot more than I used to. I've learned that it does help. It's embarrassing and degrading and makes me feel so worthless and pathetic but in the end it makes me feel so much better. Just to let everything out. If I could I would scream my problems at the top of my lungs, but my parents don't know that half of my problems even exist, so instead I go and hide in my room and cry. But I'm a strong person, stronger than people think. It's so irritating when someone thinks that I can't handle myself. I hate people sticking up for me in situations where I'd rather just take the blow than cower behind my friend or my mom. I don't like it when people fight my battles for me and I don't like it when people make decisions for me. I'm my own person and I can handle myself. And this is irrelevent but I was just listening to One Week by Barenaked Ladies (who I just realized wrote that song) and I love the line "I'm the kinda guy who laughs at a funeral" it's just fitting...

From the more...well shallow side of me, I have a couple of stories and things going on in my life, none too exciting though...well depending on your definition of exciting. Um I write, I draw, I do all kinds of artistic shit and I recently entered a writing contest within my school. It's called Authors in Residence and Douglass Goheen is the speaker this year and I'm honestly really excited because if my writing gets accepted...well I get out of school for two days to write all day. There are†two ways to get accepted, though:
a) applying and getting accepted because your writing is great
b) getting recommended by a teacher, even if you don't apply
Now, last year I went through option A because I don't think a teacher recommended me. One of my friends applied through option B without even knowing that they were being recommended or what Authors in Residence was. I had a third friend who also went through option A. My two friends got accepted. The first because they were recommended by a teacher and apparently that takes precedence over actually wanting to be involved in the program. My other friend originally did not get into the program, but because a student was absent ended up getting accepted because her last name was the next in the alphabet. What the hell kind of system is that? I promise to kill my librarian if I don't get accepted this year. I've worked my ass off for this two years straight and it's pissing me off. But we'll see.
Ok, next story is a dream that I had on Wednesday night. Alright that night we'd had a band competition and that tends to get my blood - and hormones - pumping. I mean I was about to jump a friend of mine sitting to my left, it was bad. But at least I'm not the only that it happens to. When I got home I thought that all of THAT was over but apparently not. I woke up the next morning feeling ill and I stayed home. I layed in bed for a while and then I had one of those "holy shit" moments where my eyes flew open and I could only be horrified with myself. I had ended up remembering that while I was sleeping I had a very graphic dream about having sex with the guy who had sat on my left on Wednesday. I haven't seen him since then, but tomorrow should be interesting when I DO see him. I'm†a little scared to be honest. I mean I've liked this guy for a while but this was a first because I don't like him to that extent...I tried changing the mental image to my brother's gorgeous friend Marcus but it's like†the image is†engrained in my memory and I might be scarred by the whole thing. It was...weird. Becca is gonna give me so much shit for this haha. I'm never going to live this dream down.

- Kelly R. Koontz

Ok, so I seriously like the song of night/day/post wtf ever thing, but I can never decide on one song!!! I could just make a list I guess, ooh, that's a good idea, a playlist of the week or some shit...I'm gonna post one tonight probably titled Nostalgia II with songs that I remember from when I was a kid, I'll play them for Becca later and she's gonna look at me like I'm crazy because she hasn't heard a single one of the songs but it'll be cool. I'll probably post the vids, too, even if Becca can't watch 'em. That's depressing...But anyway I guess a song of the night, because that seems to be the only time I ever post would be...well Becca is gonna skin me for this xD

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Categories: First category
12 Oct 2012 

To Becca

Don't hate me for being sappy





<-------- This one's even all symbolic and shit!
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Categories: First category
02 Oct 2012 

I'm Confused as All Hell


††††††††† So, Iíve managed to completely mind fuck myself with the feeling that something is going on. But I donít know with who or what it is. Just that something is going on around me, and ever now and then I get close to figuring it out, but then there are also the times when I know Iíve just been feed a bunch of crap just further hiding what is going on that I am supposedly not suppose to know about. But hereís the thing, Iím not even sure if the people around me know about it. Or maybe one does and not the other and some how they are pushing me back with out knowing it. Further more, Iím not positive that I want to know whatís going on, just that there most likely is, and Iím curious and frustrated at the fact that I donít know what it is, but I feel like Iím getting close and the same time I am very clearly being mislead into being pushed back farther from uncovering the truth of what is around me and there for all of us. - Rebecca S. Herring

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