I wonder about dynamics.
I wonder how groups shift to engulf people while expelling them at the same time. I wonder how it all comes into being, and why it does. Is it the fact that people need to be entertained, to not become stagnant? Who is on the ins, and who is on the outs? Who knows?

But that's aside from the point. No, it's not. Is life really as good as it ever seems? Have people settled their problems? Hmm.

if you read this page often, or at all, tell me what you think of this, as a monologue:

MEDARD:
If I am to go, I mean, if I am to be made into one of those things that lurks in the darkness could I just say that I never wanted to hurt her, I never wanted to make her cry. I only wanted to be able to live my own life, to do what I want, to be my own person. We didn't see eye to eye. I knew that she loved me like no other. I know that she gave me her heart, trusted me, put her life into me, but I didn't want it. It wasn't for me. True love doesn't exist, it is a figment of our imaginations. When we feel something so powerfully, so intensely we sometimes think that other people must think it too, because it is that powerful. We feel like the world must know what we're feeling. We feel like nothing can hurt us; we feel invincible. The thing that we forget is that we are not. Life is a lot more arbitrary than we give it credit for. As much as she loved me, I could never give it back to her, I could never give her my soul. I loved her, yes, but that was it. I began and it ended.


i want to submit something to the art mag, but what? hmmm.

here's to the academy awards, and how i am really not interested this year, oddly.

-ccm

A long time ago...

Not that long ago, but it has been a while since i wrote anything of length here. A lot has happened to me, been through a lot of phases, and through all of it, I'm feeling pretty good. I'm listening to the Queen song "Under Pressure" right now, and in reality I am under pressure, but I'm not feeling it. Maybe I'm painting myself into a corner, but it's a corner that I can live in.

So it's final in my mind. One way or the other I'm going to try and live in Brooklyn next year, well I should say after the summer sometime. I want to do that, as I feel like I need to get out there and try to find where I belong, at least before I cop out and go back to school for a degree of some sort. As long as I'm making a little money next year, enough to live off of, I'll be happy. I'm not expecting too much. I want to try and get into the media some way, either by writing or something, but that may take time and maybe more education. Could always try and be artsy or something, but we'll see about that.

David Bowie is a great man. Never met him, but I'm sure he's nice in that smarmy sort of way.

I told a Sarah that I was going to sleep. Apparently not. How typically me. Whoops.

With the accordion, I know that I am not that good, but it feels so good. In its own way that is a mirror for so many things that people go through. People know that they shouldn't see people and they see them. They shouldn't go out and eat burgers at night, but we do. We do a lot of things that we really shouldn't do, but we do them because we need to do them to feel good, to get through the days. The accordion really has been, for about a year, I think, my stress relief. I'm not really good because I don't have the discipline to practice book things, but I love playing songs I know, and that people might want to hear. I like that I may be able to pull that out someday, or I can just sit here and mumble a song to myself when I play. Having something like that for yourself is really amazing. It's just a release. I want to just go into a soundproof room and play loudly, shout madly, and just release everything I have. Just be able to go nuts with the thing. Maybe when no one's in the apartment....

My friends are going to be housefellows next year, this I didn't see coming, not last year. Congrats to them, I've told them, but I'll be the tool that puts it in writing forever, or as long as this blog thing lasts. Probably until next year or so, or after. This will be how people keep track of me, perhaps, or my daily crap, if they are interested.

Broomball: 10 people working together to put a ball into a net, regardless of pain, ego, or anything else. This year the team is looking possibly the best that it ever has. We played tonight, and lost. I don't care. We had such a good time. I just don't look forward to waking up in the morning.

Radio: I want to live on air. It would be delightful. It's the exhibitionist in me. I think that Chris and I have great chemistry on air, and if there was a way that I could do this with him for a living, I would just do that. Radio really is something amazing that I should have done sooner, but like so much in my life, I just looked at it as it was passing, never trying to get onboard. But now I am, but it's a little too late.

My dad has a saying, "You snooze, you lose." So true in all regards. You only live once, and if you need something, go for it. Try it. You never know if it'll work out unless you do, and if it doesn't, at least you have a good story. It's all about the stories for me. I've been drafting a lot in my life, as of late, and really, I don't mind. It just gets me kind of down sometimes when you're filling all the paper up so quickly, but then again, you can always get more paper, a new pen (with a gel grip), and just keep going. Never stop.

Nirvanna. What a simple bass line, but man, so very good, fitting. There is a beauty in things that are simple, or raw, imprefect. I like singers who can't really sing traditionally. Linell is all nasally, York sings in his own world, McGowen growls. There is beauty in the ways that they are not perfect, and how they make up for it in the pure spectacle that they create in their music. They fit with their bands, and that is what makes them great.

I think that every person that sings on American Idle has a horrible voice. They are too good. There is nothing that really feels in their voices. You can't hear the cigs and whiskey, the nervous breakdowns, the pain, the joy, the everything. They are just clean, and that really bothers me. I want to know that this person singing is like me, the only difference is that they can make music. People like that give the rest of us hope that we can be creative, and in turn, it lets us be.

I plan to take on this campus with my artistic fury, and for it to like it. Or at the very least, be confused by it, perhaps even mildly amused. Got a short play to put on, a movie to be in, and fong wants me to play in public someday. He's a good guy, but I'm not good. The play is the thing I really want to put out there. I want to drop this whole thesis/independent study thing and just focus on art, on this part of me that I forgot about for so long. When I leave a place, I always become artistic. Happened senior year of High School, happening now.

Living life and learning. It's all I can do now, and really, I like it.

Here's to a pleasant later in the morning.

-ccm

It is most amazing when you realize that the stars are within your reach.

-ccm

It's been a while, to say the least, and much has changed.
In short, I'm short.
Making new friends, enjoying being a senior, and I am a blonde that is often seen wearing red pleather to school functions.
There is so much more, but the contacts that I am wearing are really not feeling good, so I'm going to get off the computer.

More to come....

-ccm