CHRISTMAS???

It's Christmas!!

Why the heck would I be updating my blog on Christmas when I could be using my presents?? Wel, because I'm using one of my presents! I got a freaking laptop!!! How epic is that? That's right, wicked freaking epic.

Well, there really isn't anything to blog about on Christmas, or about about Christmas, or anything having to do with Christmas. That didn't make sense. So how about I tell you what I got?!?!?!?! Well, a laptop, an Xbox controller, some money, aaaannddd.... some smores. Yep. 'S pretty much it.

....Soo....

Sup?

Okay, how about YOU tell ME what YOU got. And then this post will finally be over. Because, pretty much, this is the lamest post ever =D Which is awesome. Because it's Christmas. And something MUSt be lame on Christmas, so now nothing else will be! Yay!

Merry Christmas, peopleses!

-Alex

A post. You should be excited.

I'm bock. In my witty itty mini blog. How fun is that?

Well, I'll go off ranting and then we can see which subject I can stick to.

Kk, Well, I'm sick... Does that count? And yesterday me and my dad were at Five Guys (THE BEST PLACE IN TEH WORLDAVERSE), and I was like, "It amazes me how stupid people are." Sounds like me =P

But I was talking about how I was talking to someone about (abundance) how people didn't want to have children all of a sudden, which is kinda weird, and they were like "It'll ruin my body!!!" And she went off ranting, and I was like "Well, you'd be giving birth to this wonderful bundle of life. I mean, if your mom hadn't gotten pregnant, you wouldn't BE here." And her *RETALLIATION!* reaction was "Well, you end up with this money/resource absorbing ball of fat the just eats and poops." To which I said "Well, you were like that also!" and she was *ANGERNESS!* like, "And I know, and I've been trying to make up for it and I feel guilty about it ever since."

ANGERNESS TO THE MAX.

Well, what I don't see is how one can feel guilty about something they did when they 1) Didn't know any better, 2) Were only slightly self-aware of all their actions, and 3) Was a ball of fat that only took up resources and ate and pooped. I mean, it's not like it's your fault for being so dumb and needy, you're some little ball of fat (more abundance) that just eats and poops! Ugh. It angers me. *is a ball of fat* Pwese weave comments down bewowwwwwwww!!!!!!!!!!!!

Anyway, to extend the length of this blog, let's get on another rant-y subject.

FACEBOOK! I lurvle Facebook! Akai, Akai, Akai (That means okay), So, Like, I got like, a Facebook. After hating it for DECADES ON END, I finally gave in. And I'm old enough to (Hahahahahahaa, not like I wasn't
>_>
<_<

Suspicious, right?)
...also. EPICNESS.

Facebook, I've realized, doesn't actual repsresent what a "group of friends" really is though, because if you like, comment on people's status too much, or play games and publish them, or go to these apps that annoy people, they are annoyed, and that can't really happen in real life. Sites like Facebook or Twitter are changing the way people look at friendship/communication in general, because it gives people more stuff to talk about, and humans weren't really designed to talk about stuff like that. Or any living thing wasn't designed to like that (That didn't make any grammatical sense...). It's almost like a loose end, technology.

Oh, NO! Not a technology rant! *withstands the will* Okay, nevermind.

Well, I guess I've taken up enough space on this page for now (I guess, maybe?). I'll try to update this blog more, but sometimes it's tough. All of my non-followers are lucky that I'm sick. COMMENT!!

You're fowevah,

-Teh Alexzorz

PS- Beccerbear is awesome.

Another Novel.

Now I know how you all LOVE stuff that I write outside of my blog, so to fill in the space of a post, today I'm going to show to you my unfinished Chapter 1 of my un-named novel. Here ya go!

Chapter 1

A Greeting

It was in Chicago, where the wind gently blew from house to house, apartment to apartment. Flowing through the leaves like silk in water, brushing the hair of children at play. A leaf gently landed on a tiny shoe and a child giggled and picked it up. A feather fell from a bird overhead, which then landed in front of a dog, who sniffed it and moved on. A car passed. Wind. A child threw a mixture of grass and dirt at another. Wind. It was infinite in one of the only slightly happy neighborhoods in Chicago. It searched.

The wind searched nature and its making for a boy, a boy in ragged clothes, so as to soak his short matted hair in a cold wind. It searched through the tall blades of grass and the lawn mowers cutting it, it slivered through the gravel and the cars driving on it. It searched and finally, rested upon the boy, chilling him to the bone until it moved on to search some more, to leave the boy silently listening to a fizzing radio and feeling the now uncovered sun to shine upon his body.

There, in a fenced back yard, a teenage boy no older than fifteen lay. He was covered in a shade down to his neck, revealing his clothed body to the sun. The wind visited its previous victim again, weaving in and out of his holed, baggy black jeans, and washing over his favorite red hoodie. There he lay, pondering that specific feeling, the feeling of nature taking his body and making it pure for just a few moments, and then leaving him to listen intently to a radio.

The wind looked beside him for another acquaintance, although not a human. It stared at what appeared to be a ball of fur, which then had been content, sleeping next to its owner. The wind darted behind it and struck it violently, opening its eyes ever so slightly to wake it up. It closed its eyes again, opened them, and stood up as the wind struck it again. The dog walked past the fizzing radio and continued inside, safe from the hateful wind, which gave up to search for a new victim. To the people of Chicago, the wind was their companion, their mentor and their enemy. It hated and it loved, it searched for people content enough to feel it grasp them tightly and have them embrace the feeling for only a moment.

Parents had no time for this. The experienced ones didn’t. They knew full well that the wind was a vicious competitor, violent and frightening. They knew that upon moving there, the wind met them and their family with a strike of cold non-evadable air particles, all of which then took to their new victims and crawled underneath their clothes, tickled their skin, and forced them into their new home. The wind treated the adults uniquely.

Allison Fandell certainly did not have time for enjoying the sunshine. She was pacing around her new apartment in Chicago, opening this box and seeing what’s inside it, giving up on setting that object up, and opening another box. Her beautiful leather black couch, wrinkled and full of memory, lying there hopeless in front of a crooked television was not at all in the right place. The precious 7-doored desk that was scratched everywhere except in a square in the middle for her laptop, was shoved violently in a corner and left there for her to deal with. The kitchen table, her bed, her clothes, all of the depressing and delightful colorful decorations, the microwave, this, that, her mind, were all in the wrong place. The dog had no place to sleep. Ashton, so it semed, had to sleep on the couch the first night in town, and there was no dryer and no washer for her sheets and what-she-thought-was-beautiful tight jeans. A 38-year-old now-single parent shouldn’t have to deal with this after what happened, she thought. She plopped on her couch, rested her head, called out to her only son about nine times before falling into a light dreamless sleep inside a tiny crowded apartment to a fizzing radio.

But in the outside air, children familiar to the wind could feel the colorful golden leaves falling down on them from an oak tree, followed by an acorn dropped by a squirrel. The creatures were lured to children by their food, creating a bond of trust between unknowing children and skinny, furry, cuddly, and deadly squirrels. The ants kept their homes safe and occasionally, wind blew their food towards the children, creating another bond of trust. The wind had a kingdom, and it created the flows of love and trust, and struck upon hatred. It was unfair to unfair animals, joyous around loved ones, glad to sink into the ground and rest underneath a black sky, or create ghosts for those who needed them. In retrospect, everything happened according to plan for the wind. When there was no wind, there was no emotion, no life in Chicago. But there was never not any wind. Even when you couldn’t feel it, it existed in you from your feet up. Newcomers knew this. And in the sun a newcomer lay, listening to a fizzing radio.

The boy, however, was by then fast asleep. The wind happened upon him a final time, seeing him deeply breathing, dreaming about it. So it moved on. And so did he, sleeping through the yelling of his mother, the barking of his dog, sleeping through the sun being covered and uncovering by the clouds. There he lay, content in his new home that was Chicago. The wind welcomed him with a hug.

Hoped you enjoyed it. I'm writing this farewell before I put in the double-spacedness, so you can all see my say my goodbyes without it being annoyingly double spaced and indented. Hope you enjoyed it the unfinished first chapter! *lick lick, salute!*

Always yours,

-Alex

PS- Is Chicago even windy?

PSS- I'm also entering this for a contest, so if anyone steals this, it will be considered pr... prof... no... That word where it's illegal to copy speeches and novels and stuff. So yah. Can't steal this time, sorry.

Aw crap, Another Love Post

Alright, well I was on the Nerdfighters ning, and there was this big awkward silence. Then someone asked, (it's a chat room full of people) and I quote: "So who thinks im being stupid by trying to become a better person to convince the girl who broke up with me to take me back?"

I was surprised. When someone asks a question, any question, on the Nerdfighters ning, everyone's too caught up in their own little thing for everyone there to reply. But this time, I think there were three or four other people talking, everyone responded. It was like a deepening statement, automatically getting everyone's hearts out of their brains and into what they say. If that makes sense. People said sentimental stuff like "Do it for you," or "Be yourself," and saying that he was definitely, DEFINITELY, not stupid.

Someone said be yourself, yes. It was interesting, because I was just pondering what that actually means. Does it mean be who you are on the inside? If so, what does that mean? (I have started many a post with that two question structure, I just realized.) I'm thinking that when people say "Be yourself," They actually mean don't try to screw anything up by being slick and stuff. Do what feels right, and don't every stray away from it. It's interesting. It's like saying "There there" to someone who's crying. It means almost nothing, but it's so comforting that the person feels better. "Be yourself" means almost nothing, but people follow the advice and do better.

So is it stupid, becoming a better person and trying to make someone take you back? When they say "be yourself," Does that mean just be the person that you are, not necessarily a "better" person? An interesting way of looking at things, but necessary to figure out questions of life. I feel that becoming a better person is a very good cause, but how does one be better than they are? If they're themselves, there should be no better alternative to a girl. Being a better person to get a girl would not being yourself, in my eyes. (Question for the comments: Do you agree?) If a girl breaks up with you for whatever reason, or a guy depending on who you're interested in, then they don't understand who you are. By becoming a better person, the fog becomes deeper, and it's harder to see who you are.

So for anyone who has just been dumped, you mat love the person. I have felt that pain before. But remember, that if you want to change for them, do your best the first few times. Eventually you'll realize that really, if they loved you, they wouldn't need you to change. It an equivalent exchange, always. For them to love you, you need to love them back. You can't have a one-sided love. Well you can, but that's not exactly how people define a "relationship." The people who change and have broken up and then gotten back together with the person and married them are rare and inconsistent, and although they may feel bad or great about their lives, the people around them will envy them and try to do what they did. Don't. Because chances are, it won't work.

It's a very hard topic to blog about, and I think I did my best... I know a lot of people will disagree, many many MANY people, whoever reads this post, but if I had time I would edit and re-edit this. But for now,

Forever doing my best for you,

-Alex

A Late post.

Well, I haven't posted in a while, what with Homework, and homework and girls such as Becca. >.> Anyway. I was reading my fellow Squire's blog, Nerdtastic, and I was thinking about his post "Stuck." He talked about the meaning of life, and teenagers, and money and girls and technology and stuff like that. As anyone who reads my blog knows, I like delving into things.

It's interesting how when some people ask "what is the meaning of life," Others respond, "Well, to live life to your fullest." It's also interesting that when someones asks "How are you doing," chances are, the other person will almost immediately say "Good." It's that predictable-ness that I think speeds life up a lot. You predict something will happen, and that small moment is much faster because you don't hear what another is saying because you know already what they're going to say. Is it that that people are stuck over?

Another thing: Why must life have a meaning? Is there really a meaning to life? Philosophers ponder over this all of their life: Well would that be the meaning of their life then, to figure out the meaning of life? Lives can be wasted over the question, true. But it's an interesting question that humans have evolved so much that not only can they be the most extremely self-aware creatures within galaxies of anything, but they can also question life itself, which most likely won't be recorded in history again on the earth. I don't know if my blog-readers know this, but I'm an Atheist. An Atheist is one who doesn't have a religion, and usually the reason for that is because  they don't believe in a God. I'm kind of extreme: There isn't anything supernatural on this planet, or anywhere else.

Well, here's my reasoning: For someone to be able to not hang on to made up evidence, not hang on to a familes beliefs, or a communities beliefs, or even a country's beliefs takes can be extremely difficult. So I guess I can say that I find that there really isn't any meaning of life. Earth made a mistake when we evolved into a creature that doesn't rely on it's body's features, but a creature relying on the features in our minds; thinking capacity evolves much much much MUCH faster than any mutations/body parts to any animal. Cheetahs can run as fast as a car, fight off almost any animal, they have razor sharp claws, and they hunt independently, but with one motion of one finger on a humans body can a Cheetah be struck down fatally. It's the brain that we have, not the features on our body.

And that brain has lead to self-awareness, questioning of life, and making ourselves firmly believe in things that are scientifically proven impossible to be slightly real. People question the Big Bang, but scientists can prove that to fill the space of nothing, something can be created from nothing, or some crap like that. We've evolved into creatures that can multiply astronomically and exponentially in just a few centuries, can look back those few centuries and call ourselves dumb and stupid and we can see the mistakes that we've made. But a Cheetah hunts no differently than it did 10s of centuries ago. It's the brain, not the features.

So if that's so, how can there really BE a meaning to life? Would the meaning of life simply be to fill the space of nothingness? Because that really is the only rational meaning to life. It's not to make others happy, it's not to make money, become wealthy, make friends, become a successful engineer, follow in God's path, follow your family's traditions, it's not that. It is simply nothing. Life has as much meaning to it than the amount of meaning nothingness had, before the planets and the stars. Humans have a hard time understanding that, because we've become so advanced, we think that it has to mean something. It really means that nature made a simple mistake. And history is really, not doomed to repeat itself.

That's really all I have for tonight, and I hope people can ponder over it more than usual. So I bid you a simple:

Yours Forever,

-Alex

PS- To those who are religious, or believe in a God, I mean no disrespect to you. If you take offence to this blog, I apologize.

Draft El Secendo (Double spaced and indented somehow - no idea)

Well, this is another impromptu blog I shall create about: Well, I have no idea, but that's the fun of it, right?

WANNA HEAR MY SECOND DRAFT FOR MY HISTORY ESSAY? Someone edit it for me =(

Draft 2

            It was (a date I haven’t found out yet) when everything started, for me anyway. The Redcoats, the Lobster-backs, they were the ones who started it; The American Revolution. Before then we were taxed on nearly everything – teeth, dice, newspapers, legal documents – everything. We couldn’t do anything to stop it, of course. The English had complete control over Boston, we couldn’t put a colonist in an important chair up top, only they. And they were the ones who order the British troops to stand on guard; they ordered them in Boston in the first place. They must have seen it as some sort of an object, instead of a place where living children run and play hide and seek, and apprentices mold wax and cooper barrels. If they hadn’t though of Boston (or any other colony in their control) like that, nothing would have happened. And that I am sure of by my fear of Hell and my love of God.

            I was born into America because of my father, Apollos Riviore. This would have been my name if he hadn’t Anglicized it – Paul Revere. That is the name I hold today, written on the very certificate which holds all my other information. My father died countless years ago, in 1754, and that’s when the family fell into my hands, with the shop as well. I was keeping house as a silversmith, one of, if not the best smith in Boston. I worked on gold as well – rarely, but still skillfully.

As a rich silversmith, people don’t talk much about anything around you. They only talk about you, and that was the trouble; I was a rich silversmith. It was hard to pick up any news on anything by just walking around for a stroll, for people seemed quiet around me, that or the opposite, of course. Hearing little kids yelling your name is very… pleasing, yet not quite so at the same time. At least I had the state of mind (and ear, I might say) to pick up a scrap of information about John Hancock. He was, of course, the richest man in Boston, but he was also known for planning against Britain, which was usually defined as treason.

But it had some sort of spark to it, and that spark lit a very flamingly bright fire in me. The British couldn’t control the colonies anymore, so it was said, and they were going too far in placing soldiers at every corner or every end of every street. So it was simple: rebel and the soldiers will go away. Sit and do nothing, and watch as the lower class starves into nothing, and watch the upper class become more rich until they either die or become hungry for power instead of wealth. Whatever the latter would lead to, the Patriots didn’t want it. And that’s when I became a Patriot.

There it is. I swear to god if anyone steals this I will eat them whole. I'm not finished yet though, still need to add on seven more paragraphs. Well, sorry for the boringness of this post.

Forever yours,

-Alex

Today. Boring, right?

Well, it's what I'm going to write about, just as every blogger goes rogue at one point.

Well, tomorrow is voting day for (everyone?) New Hampshire... And my parents (typically) don't know who to vote for. Dad's a democrat, mom's a "left-leaning Independent" -.- Wimpiness. Who are you voting for, if not underage? If you are underage, do you pay attention to this stuff? Are you a democrat? Republican? Answer my questions!

Now on a darker note, I would rant on what happened to ME today, but everyone hates blogs in which one only talks about themselves. So I'll ask you questions tied into my rant. Which won't exactly be a rant. So instead of continually anticipating this rant, let's rant!

Okay, so I just got a new game, Halo Reach. I'm sure you've heard of it (If not, you're either not a nerd or you're completely unconnected from the outside world), and it's rated M for mature. Like, 18 and older (no duh Sherlock). And I was playing Matchmaking, in which you look online throughout Xbox Live, for I have an Xbox 360, and you play and shoot and assassinate people. My dad was working downstairs on something that had to do with wood and Carpentering and some weird pointless thing that randomly stresses him out for no reason at all, and I was like "NOOOOO, I just got assassinated!!!!" He was all "Wha?" Because he doesn't even know how to spell video game, and I said to him "Yeah, in the new Halo someone actually comes up behind you and stabs you/any other form of brutal assassination, unlike the other ones." He said that was ridiculous and I said "Whatever."

Now I don't know what grade anyone is in or what you've studied in Science, but everyone has a stronger side of their brain, right or left, or you can be just about equally strong in both sides. Evidently, if you're right-brained, you pay attention more to one's tone of voice, and your body can interpret that better than anything else, verbally speaking. Also evidently, my father is right-brained (A good question: Do you know what side of the brain you're stronger in?).

He stormed up to me and was like "OFF! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWW!!!!!!!!!!! YAAAAAUUUUGGGHHHH *explodes*"

Okay, maybe not quite like that. But he was definitely mad. And he looked for the power off button, which is right in the most clear spot of the Xbox, and turned if it off. And I was confused, because I'm right-brained as well, and I didn't sense any tone in my voice. And so he freaked out and was like "This is what this game does to you. You don't even know it!" And he sent me upstairs.

So I can and can't blame him for this. I mean, I'm a teenager, I have hormones, I've gotten no sleep, and I was sitting in front of a TV screen exercising only my fingers. But if he's right-brained and I'm right-brained, how can he sense something and I can't? Is your brain messed up when you're tired or something? I mean, he was tired too, very clearly tired, because he just spent the whole day at work, and he didn't get any sleep last night because of Halloween, and I was at school the whole day and didn't get any sleep over the whole weekend because of the countless hours spent with Devon. Maybe that's why he stormed up to me in the first place, because he was tired and he misinterpreted what I meant by saying whatever.

Whatever it is (Hahahah. hah. hah. Whatever.), I'm not trying to blame anything on anyone, I'm just feeling inquisitive about the whole thing. If anyone would be generous enough to feed me your kind words, I would be eternally grateful (yeah right). Anyway, I shall be leaving.

Forever yours,

-Alex