Please, take my life and use it.

I'm ready.

This day was bound to come...

Wednesday, June 25, 2008. Approx 1045 hours.

Landon received the Three Rings of Death on his Xbox 360.

Wiki- Xbox 360 Technical Problems.

Josiah Leming re-do

When I posted the Josiah Leming blog, I really didn't have much time at all to explain my point.  I didn't want to save it as a draft though, cause I figured I'd never go back to it.  So I posted it as is, and I knew it would be confusing.  So, after I got such a nice flush of comments (Thanks, everyone! I can't say how much I love it!!), I figured I'd give it the time to fully explain it.

So this picture on Josiah's myspace, it's of him simply smoking a cigarette. I'll attach it.  And it now has 149 comments, most of them about this little teeny tiny cig.  And this one girl, who had previously bagged on him for smoking in another comment, was saying how she knows it's his decision, and how she just wishes he wouldn't smoke, and yada yada yada.  So, at the end of this comment, she said stuff like ...but I still love your music, and I still care about you, and "you're still in my prayers."

And I read that, and I honestly thought What? Because I couldn't figure out what she would be praying for.  Because my first thought was I don't think I would ever pray for Josiah Leming. Now, I don't know what she was praying for, but I eventually came up with some things that I would actually pray for.  I would pray that he finds someone he can be truly close with, because I think the kid is lonely as hell.  I would pray that...I dunno, he stays safe on tour.  Stuff like that.  But by the time Josiah comes up on my Things-to-pray-for list, I would have probably been praying for hours.  Doesn't she have someone close to her that is truly hurting?  It sounds really horrible of me to say things like that.  But it's a legit question.

And the term "right or wrong" really wasn't right.  Or...accurate, I should say.  I was just thinking about that idea.  I guess I was thinking about whether I would do that or not.  But I do think it's amazing that a little cigarette busted this huge conversation on his page.  I mean like 70% of musicians smoke.  Haha it makes me laugh a little.

It's 11:11, make a wish.

So this is going to be one of the more random blogs, that addresses a bunch of different things.  Short attention span, I guess.  And by "...one of the...", I mean I want to start doing these more.  I always blog when something big happens, but it's about time I talk about the little things in life.  Like UFC, Microsoft, Southern California (actually pretty big), and finals (eh...big also).  Oh well.  Bear with me, this one is long.  UFC is at the end so you don't have to read it if you don't want to lol.

Microsoft has started something (now, don't quote me on any of this, look it up yourself) called the "i'm Network", in which they donate part of the money they get from advertising to 10 different organizations.    And all this month, any time you use hotmail or MSN Messenger, they're donating more money, or something like that.  But I thought it was soo funny how they are using the common goal of charity to get people to use their software.  That seems so messed up to me.  I dunno, maybe they are really using their software as a tool to give more money...but I doubt it.  

I go to SoCal this weekend.  Kinda crazy.  No, wait...endlessly crazy.  Don't really know what to say about it, other than...who knows what's gonna happen.  I am mainly talking about Elysse.  Cause we aren't together, we can't be together, and that's that.  So what is there to do?  Hang out like nothing's changed, I guess.  Just...ignore the burning toaster (Sunny Day Real Estate's Diary, look it up) in the room.  And there's this big disconnect in my brain.  Cause I was so hurt by some of the things she did, I don't want to care anymore.  But at the same time, I can't let go.  I seriously cannot let go.  I don't get it.  Because I've never had this problem before (in fact it's gotten me into trouble), but now it seems an impossible task.*sigh* I digress.  I'm excited for the trip though.  It will be an amazing boost in morale to see everyone again, especially because it's going to be so long before it happens again.  But let's not dwell on that, we need to think about the time we DO have with each other.  Let's be well, friends.

Finals are this week, naturally.  Because...I have finals [<-- plural] every month.  It's a wonderful trait of Full Sail.  Quite possibly our favorite.  But I'm really not that worried.  I mean, with 100+% in math, and a steady grade in CSI, I'm not really worried about these classes.  I'm not really worried about grades at all, really.  Just being honest.  I never have, and I probably never will.  But I know they affect placement and stuff, so maybe I'll try a little bit.  And for Mom. =]

PS- I'm way excited to come see the home at Debhaven.  8 days, I believe!

And now, for our main event of the evening, I saw one of the greatest fights I have ever seen today.  It was a PRIDE lightweight fight: Nick Diaz v Takanori "Fireball" Gomi.  Now, Gomi is this little 5'8" Japanese kid that held the LW belt.  Because PRIDE was held in Japan, he was a huge crowd favorite.  He liked to throw bombs, but has had impressive submissions like an arm-triangle choke.  Nick Diaz is obviously one of the bad-boy Diaz brothers, who always love to slug it out, but also holds gi and non-gi BJJ black belts under...who was it again...oh yeah I almost forgot Cesar Gracie.  He hasn't had the greatest UFC career, topping out at 10 fights, with a 6-4 record.  So it made for a very interesting fight.

The funny thing about the fight was that Gomi was clearly picked to win.  The commentators knew Diaz was dangerous, but they didn't think he could take it.  Now, they wouldn't say this out loud, but it comes across in their comments.  It got to the point where Gomi was so tired [in the first] that he was dropping his hands and Diaz was popping him in the chin repeatedly.  Then the commentators: "Gomi is dropping his hands because Diaz's punches are not hurting him!" I was like, come on. This is a joke.  Diaz basically dominates the first round, except for one punch that put him on his butt, yet he recovered. And the guys couldn't stop talking about that one punch, until late in the first when the finally realized Nick was really beating the shit out of Gomi. The end of the fight comes in the second round, when Gomi resorts to taking Diaz down, and thus getting himself into a gogoplata.  He gets choked out, taps, and Diaz wins the fight.  Only the second gogoplata-stoppage in the history of PRIDE.  Amazing.  Nick Diaz was now the LW belt holder in PRIDE.

Too bad he smokes a ton of reefer.  Six weeks later, the Nevada State Athletic Commission stated that he failed the drug test he took shortly before the Gomi fight, and tested positive for marijuana.  "Commission Chairman Dr. Tony Alamo said that while a result of 15 is considered positive, the NSAC has a threshold of 50 for athletes." Now, Senor Diaz had a score of 175.  I have no idea how much that really is, but that sounds like a lot of pot, right?  Anyways, the fight goes to a No Contest, he gets fined 20% of his earnings ($3k), and gets six months out of MMA.  Pretty crazy, huh?

Josiah Leming

I just read on one of Josiah Leming's pictures (the one in which he is smoking...controversy!!!), and someone said that they were praying for him.

And I thought...Why?


...and now I'm trying to figure out if that is wrong or right.

Lord, show me the way

Let my words, be your words.
Let my thoughts be your thoughts.

God

Grant me the strength to speak when others stand in silence.

Let me tell the truth to those who have only been told lies.

Enable me to walk when the road ahead of me is burning coals.

Bestow upon me knowledge far beyond my years on this Earth.

Give me the words to say when my mind is cluttered with life.

Let me get through a day without her plaguing my consciousness.

Let me sleep through the night without dreams of her face.

Lest I choose do these things own my own (for I would clearly fail),

Let me cling,

close to You,

in Your arms, 

under Your wing.

Javier Rivera

The man, the myth, the legend.  I am sitting here in his class, and we still have three hours, thirty-five minutes, 50 seconds together today.  That makes...*uses math NOT learned in CMA*...about 40 hours left all together.  Now, because no laptops are allowed in this time-stopping class, I am forced to write this down on paper, and promise to myself that I'll type it out in a blog later.  So, you're reading something I wrote on paper first.  I hate writing on paper!  How bored am I? Anyways, I have a newfound hope for this blog, now that John has decided that he'll log on to read it later.

So, I will return to my original topic, distant relative of Zorro, Senor Rivera.  This guy is, pardon moi francais, bad ass.  His hair is jet black, and it's slicked back (by none other than a wide-toothed comb) against his skull.  And the amounts of gel that must be used...my God.  You could probably do every child's hair in Kenya.  I mean, his hair is not only shiny, but the heaps of gel/pomade have dried and now share similar properties with concrete.  He probably does his hair on Monday, and it just stays the exact same way through the week.  His attire has been fine thus far, with two different Full Sail button-ups paired with jeans.  But today, he shows up in a John Cena t-shirt and windbreaker-style pants.  It looks like he partied a little hard on Monday night, and just rolled out of bed this time.  But don't worry! The hair still looks phat. :) He also sports a wedding ring and a classy silver watch.

Now, it was in the second half of our first class in which I saw it.  I was watching him pace the class (as he waited for us adults to write down how to multiply a fraction), and I realized that the man waddles, like a penguin.  It's so awesome.  He doesn't quite take steps, as much as he shuffles each foot forward, making his shoulders move side-to-side.  He simply waddles.  If you don't know what I'm talking about, go watch Happy Feet now.  Go.

And now (which means...*points finger down* mow.), for what I realized today. I have been...

Hold on.  I have to breeze through some problems.

Time Out: 1416 hours

Time In: 1420

I mean, seriously.  4 minutes?  You can't challenge me a little more than that?

Alright, so I've been getting more and more laughs because of Javier's accent.  As you can probably tell, he is Hispanic.  But it's funny cause he doesn't have a strong hispanic accent.  For some reason, I keep on thinking he sounds like he's from Krakosia (The Terminal...anyone?), or Russia, or...somewhere that is not Mexico lolzz.  And i realized that is because he is trying SO hard to compensate for his natural accent, that he is over-enunciating.  It just sounds...wrong.  Once you realize it, you can hear all the ways he is trying to sound like he's from the States (which is in stark contrast to Jose the Puerto Rican in the back, who answers "Aqui!" during roll call).  He speaks so slowly, ever so careful to say everything right, which is funny cause he is talking about horribly boring things in a slow voice.  Bueller?  Bueller?  ...Bueller?

The combonation of all these things cause me to have a profound sense of joy inside.  Sitting here with my fellow classmates, laughing over the crazy antics of our teacher, I feel happy.  Things are alright here, when I look at things like this.  Because yeah, I am stuck in Algebra I, but there are worse things in life.  I feel pretty optimistic right now.  Actually, you know what it is?

I feel free.

Magic Eye

I'm starting to believe that life is just like Magic Eye.  Well, actually life is more like you being put in a locked room, with a chair one light, and a Magic Eye book.  So you walk up to it, and you sit in the chair and pick up this book.  Now, you are presented with this picture.  This picture is kind of chaotic; there isn't much sense being made.  The colors and shapes do not form into any object you have seen before. And you spend your time just sitting and staring at this picture that makes absolutely no sense to you, trying to figure it out.  You look at it every which way possible. I mean, you think, how many different ways can you look at a picture before you see something? Because right now, everything is simply a mess.

And then the most crazy thing happens.  You're looking at a minute detail in the picture (that you realize means nothing), and so you think to try getting a wider view.  And as you pull the picture away from the close-proximity of your face, something moves.  Then, as you get a wider view of the situation, everything becomes completely clear.  Seemingly out of nowhere!

And now you realize you've been staring at a picture of the chair you're sitting in, but instead of you, there is simply a skeleton. Holding a book.  Never to move again.  Then you're not so sure you wanted to know in the first place.

If you want to listen to an awesome song...

...look no further! Here is my Project Playlist that I recently made.  It's got 48 tracks, and I like them all very much.  They are songs that I'm currently listening to here in Florida.  It's another way to connect to each other. =]

Don't worry Dad, no screamo! ;)

You'll have to pick a song to start on (though it randomizes what song it lands on), and so I suggest the first track: Sleeper 1972 by Manchester Orchestra. I want to sing the vocal break at the top of my lungs!

Sleeper 1972

I had like three dreams last night. I only remember two right now.

1. I really don't remember.  And this sucks really bad cause it was a really crazy dream.  If I remember at some point, I'll type it in and update.

2. I had an AIM conversation with brian in which I was asking, no...begging him to not fall for Elysse.  He asked for how long haha.  I didn't really have an answer.  My efforts were futile.

3. I was in the car with someone...I think it was Uzi.  I was in the backseat and he was in the front, and we were driving through my old neighborhood...which makes this story not plausible on about three levels.  But I was telling him about Elysse.  But we were talking like he had known the entire situation. Like he was from Brea, and he had heard from our group of friends. Another reason this doesn't make sense. But I was talking about how unbelievable all of this was. And I tried to turn the music down in the car, but it wasn't turning down, and I realized it wasn't music, it was my badass alarm.  Ryan heard it in Dallas when we had to wake up early lol.

Good to know you still dominate my subconscious.

"Cause I still feel you in this God-forsaken house."

Walking. Moving. Breathing.

I am about to leave my apartment to go watch a UFC event at Chad's place.  It will be a nice time-filler, and hey, I'll probably get a bud lite out of it.  This sport brings out a whole different side of me, that a good portion of my guy friends have seen, but only a few girls have been fortunate enough to witness.  It's kind of a wild thing.  I bring up all sorts of ideas from the back parts of my brain (hahahahaha i typed brian on accident. go freakin figure) that come out in stats, memories, and jokes about Joe Rogan.

But that's not really what I started thinking about just now.  As I thought about me going to this event, and leaving afterwards, I had this mental image, a vision, if you will. Me, leaving the apartment, just off of a smashing good joke, laughing it up.  As soon as the door closes, and I am outside alone, my smile immediately fades.  I stand there for a moment, holding the cold doorknob.  I remove my palm, and turn to start walking to my car.  The camera has a shot of me walking from down the hall.  I take my hands and rub my temples and feel my head.  I never smile. In fact, I don't frown either.  I am simply...there.  I sigh as I reach my car and I get in.  I sit there for a moment, and then grab my iPod, put on a Manchester Orchestra song, and I drive home.  I go to sleep.

It made me feel like everything here was just filler.  Going from one event to another, my spirits lifting temporarily, then going back down to a state of nothing once again.  Yeah, I know.  It's a pretty depressing way to talk about life.

I guess I'm just a pessimist.

Life is so technical...

I have been realizing lately that life is full of technicalities.  Relationships are simply things we can't say, and things we can, according to the situation.  Well, at least some relationships are.  There are always things that are being held back...things that are...eh.

Maybe I'll write about that later.  I wrote this a couple weeks ago.  Enjoy:

I think I'll just sit here a while

And think of our times in the sun

It was beautiful and it was warm

With an entire world for us to run

The stars we couldn't see hanging

And the wounds we wouldn't speak of

The world was ours for the taking

yes, the world was ours for the taking

We're on a path we can't control

Led into lives we don't want to keep

Keep the make up and lie to ones we love

Feeling empty when it's through

But nothing could change how I feel now

I love you.

I'll be here whenever you want me

The center of something I don't own.

But this is harder than I imagined

I really wish I would have known

I'm trying my hardest here

So I hope you understand

This isn't something that I'm used to

This wasn't something that I planned

We're on a path we can't control

Led into lives we don't want to keep

Keep the make up and lie to ones we love

But feeling empty when it's through

But nothing could change how I feel now

I love you.

I can say that it was perfect

I can say I wouldn't change a thing

I can say that it was perfect

I  can say I wouldn't change a thing

California

I miss you. I love you.  I do.

I'll make it up to you I swear

Just be home when I get there.