What is in a name...

I changed my blogs name. Verbal Diarrhea didn't sound great anymore. I changed it to Verbally Suffocate Me. Seems more fitting, considering I talk too much and that if it were possible to die from talking or verbalizing oneself, I'd be dead a long time ago. I guess this is a perfect example of how things change. Well...not perfect, but you catch my drift.

Did you know that it is possible to die from laughing? For example in a hostage situation, were you are told to be quiet, but you can't stop laughing, you get shot. There you go! Ha I proved all you scientists and sceptics wrong!

In Memorium

I've reached a stage where I have no opinions or feelings, I've exhausted every ounce. It's one of these times where I start to wonder where everything starts and where it all ends. I guess what I'm trying to say is that, I want to write about love and living, but I haven't truly loved or even remotely lived. That's all there is to write about really. Since, how can you talk about your views on the world when you haven't read all the history books or even begun to understand...simply, why? I have no knowledge of anything in particular. I'm not sure if that realization hurts or not. Right now it's just a fact. How do I know if praying to God will save us all or if global warming will burn me alive? I have no idea. I'm sick of trying to find ways to explain things! They just are. We are so entirely lost, it's sort of humorous in a way. Sad in another. But, then again how do you know that you are lost if you don' t know where you should be? See... more fucking questions. My head is going to explode. I'm finding it an effort to type this out, but I need to because I haven't written anything since my mice died. It's so plain written up there on the screen, but the pain was more than I expected when I saw them lying in their cage. It wasn't normal or as I had hoped that they would have passed on. They were stiff and they weren't together. At opposite ends I believe. I couldn't move for a little while, I had my back to the cage for a good hour and a half. Shit, I must have looked like Lady Macbeth wringing her hands muttering,"Out damned spot." I have to laugh at myself or I would start to remember the feeling of finding my friends dead from heat exhaustion after leaving them to go to my cottage. I never even thought about them as I got sunburned and watched my cousin pretend to get drunk off of two coolers. As cliched as it is, I never said good-bye. I just filled their food bowl and left. I held them before I put them in their cardboard coffin. Their eyes were open and I could swear that they were warm (probably from being roasted alive). They could have easy been sleeping. I shook them a little and muttered to them. Shit, it haunts me. I held them and I hated myself for not taking them with me. I have this image of my two mice lying in a cold wet cardboard box, running in circles trying to find a way out of the hole I buried them in. I still do, no matter how many times I fake a smile. I must have looked like a stupid idiot, standing in front of my shitty attempt at a grave, trying to not get eaten alive by mosquitoes and muttering words like "I'm so sorry", "I loved you" and swearing because I could not even think of something memorable to say. I could not even make something to mark their grave. My justification was, "they are just mice." The same justification that I told myself as I cried in the 40 degree weather, sitting on my deck, wringing my hands. I wanted to vomit. I sickened myself. I really did love them. It was the same as finding any other animal dead. Tish, Rainbow, Elmo or even Rocky. Everything has life and that life is eventually taken. It's the same for all living things. It was my dad talking, his voice telling me to stop crying, that he'll get me new ones to replace them, telling me that they are just mice, it's pathetic but true. The same man who told me to stop crying when I was little or told me to toughen up and stop acting like a child. Funny, now it seems that I can't stop. I don't want new mice. They will not replace or patch up this hurt. Albert had a limp, he always ran in circles. Hemingway loved his wheel and hated it when Albert would try and run on it. They used to fight each other, but I would find them cuddling sometimes. I'm crying as I write this, nose running, trying to type correctly through clouded eyes. Desperately trying to tell whoever is reading this that I feel so god damned guilty. True, I didn't actually put them outside, or left them out there for an hour. But, if I had cleaned their cage earlier maybe my dad would not have said that they smelled and put them outside. Maybe I deserve this pain. I got mice so that they would not be fed to a snake, but is roasting alive any better?

The Ninth Step

Singing along in her head to a song she really didn't know the name to, Ann stopped on every other step to listen to the sounds coming from downstairs. The stairs were illuminated up until the ninth step, but after this, a shadow cloaked the final five. She could see no further. The song had gone. Ann was not surprised by split between the darkness and the light, yet she was still not prepared with the choice she was forced to make. As she turned towards the bottom of the stairs, a faint sound of nonsense coming from the television could be heard. She pictured her family's faces. Faces frozen as they followed the actions of the characters they had grown to accept as a part of our home. Their emotionless faces burned her eyes as she once again turned towards the dark steps waiting, yet wanting.

Ann was odd. After talking to her, even if for a few minutes, anyone would come to that conclusion. The fact was that she really did not like other people. Ann was just the type of person who preferred to read, rather than have a conversation. In her opinion, the shit that came from peoples' mouths seemed to insult the English language. "Loner", "hermit" and "anti-social freak." Ann no longer had a name. The idea pleased her. She found no fault in the concept of being alone. The funny thing was that it was not Ann who was angered by these people. These people were angered by her very presence. In their opinions, Ann was different, she had become an oddity. An unknown creature walking amongst a running crowd, talked about less and less until she had disappeared altogether.

For years and years Ann had been making the choice to travel the line between steps 9 and 10. Today was no different, except she would be returning to normality in a few minutes. She only crossed to get her sweater. Ann planned to take a walk. She needed to escape.

Who is Ann? Many teenagers go through the same phases and always think that they are alone. Ann was a prime example. She was not the type to do drugs or cut herself. These she believed, killed the only valuable part of the body, one's brain. It was later discovered that Ann's pain was caused by her severe depression. She was never helped because , well, she did not talk about her brain. It was hers. Many of the same people who called her names claimed that she was a great person, quiet though. Ann was the only person who really knew what thoughts were raging a war inside of her.

The creature got into her head. It had come back again and she had to go somewhere. Usually she froze in place when it came, but this time was different. Ann was removed from herself. The purpose of living had left, yet again. But, then, I guess it was never really there in the first place, just the fake image of what people should strive for. Ann always wanted to live in the forest. There were no people, only other creatures. The mindless talk would be gone forever. And when it was her time, it would be natural, the way it was intended. Her remains would fertilize the soil and any trace of her would be swallowed up as well. But, she couldn't live in a forest.

Ann stopped on the side of the road. She waited until she could not hear any cars coming. With her eyes closed she took one step. One tear fell soundlessly to the pavement. Another step. Ann's stomach was heaving. A third step. her family's faces stung her through the darkness of her eyelids. Four. Five. Her heart beat rapidly. Six. Not once did she regret the seventh or the eighth, as her chances grew smaller and smaller. There were no tears as she lifted her right foot to complete her ninth step. No More Pain

The driver had no time to react as he plowed straight into, what he assumed to be, a deer that had found its way onto the highway. He continued. His car was not damaged and someone else would deal with the carcass. Poor creature he thought, but the driver was in a hurry.

Back in Ann's room, her door was left open and her light left on from her hurried retreat. The last five steps were illuminated down to the ninth step where Ann had paused for that split second, while a unnamed tune played in her head. Darkness ruled as the door slammed shut just as the car slammed into Ann, ending her song and ending the war of thoughts, which in the end killed her and splattered the only valuable part of her body across the pavement.

THE END

Hemmingway

I'm thinking about Hemmingway's death. He killed himself after saying that the drugs he was given for his depression took his memories away. He was a great writer because he wrote from experience. Tragic way of going it seems. Tragic in a beautiful way.

Good-night Mr. Hemmingway, I'm sorry to say you blew your brains out. And what a beautiful one you had indeed. Your mind was your only downfall and curse. It seems to me that we have something in common.

...?

This story does not have an end. It goes on forever without purpose or point. Many die along the way. Decaying as they do, the pictures they take will be long lost. Smile for the camera, we all want to remember who you were. Diseases takes over natural death. They struggled and fought for their lives, but as many efforts go, they were futile. Stories about their end lasted longer than they did. They distracted themselves to death. You see, their END was not THE END. Their arrogance caused them to be unaware that they were alone. Alone in their beliefs that they were the superior race. Many took their own lives, but some lasted until the end. They finally got to see the extent of the wounds they caused. TO BE ALONE AND AWAY FROM THE TRUE PICTURE, THAT CANNOT BE TAKEN BY A CAMERA AS EVERYONE FAKES A SMILE. THEY WANT TO BE REMEMBERED AS A HAPPY PERSON WHO DID NOT THINK THESE THOUGHTS ABOUT THEIR END. I AM THE PHOTOGRAPHER. I AM NOT SMILING

Bipolar....the Creative Disease?

I believe this to be true in most cases. Artists analyze every part of their human mind. In the end they can see everything. Knowledge is not technically power when you learn to hate those who walk day to day without a single thought flying through their minds. They are not alone. We are alone in our own little worlds. We see what they chose not to. We feel the hurt of their ignorance and incompetence when those who bare it pass us by. We lie down and stare up at the sky and describe it in beautiful words to whose who cannot see. They look straight ahead, at the future and refuse to see an end. We tell them that there is, this they ignore. We see the light and the dark and we explore the good and the evil, we learn to love one or the other a little more as they travel the gray. In the end it is us who die lonely and afraid as we put shotguns to our heads. And they die with love around their death beds. We suffer so they can occasionally pick up our hearts and tear through them sucking the life from our words, our memories. We accept the pain it takes to keep our eyes open to make up for the fact that they are blind. You see, the world wants everything to be equal. With life comes death, with knowledge comes ignorance, with healing comes pain, but in the earth we are all the same.

The Movies and My BIG Mistake!

Well, yesterday I went after school to try and go see the Sex and the City movie, but surprise surprise it was sold out. Instead my friends and I saw Iron Man which was AWESOME! I could only enjoy my time out for a short while until I got home and realized that I didn't call my parents to tell them that I had gone to the movies... I'm sooooo stupid. But, the truth is, I thought that they would not have cared since they were in Niagra Falls over night. That's where everything went wrong because they called the house and I wasn't there. So, they came home panicked instead of staying over night in Niagra... I guess I was also angry because they seemed to have the time to fit in a strangers wedding and my brother's baseball but, couldn't even drop me off at a friends house. I completey regret it now and know that I have to tell my parents where I am going at all times. But, the funny thing is that instead of grounding me and kcking my ass, my parents are going to buy me a cell-phone. I love them for that (not the phone part, them not kicking my ass part...)

Christian Bale

He's sexy

That's all I have to say about that!

New To The Blogging World:

Visit his blog at www.alackofwords.blogspot.com

He's cool cause he's veg...

WHAT THE F***? <--- (Says: FUCK)

The two largest posers have united! The world of originality has ended. But, I guess they had to find each other eventually. All that I'm wondering is if she did the hoedown at the wedding. Thanks for ruining Saturday Night Live BITCH... What ever happened to opposites attract? The weird thing is that I usually like artists who write their own music, but in Ashlee Simpson's case, please have someone write the music for you and while their at it.. they can sing it too. (The same goes for you Avril! No one will want to be your girlfriend when you are hoping about and yelling at them like you were five. That would be pedophilia.) Maybe they'll kill each other in a month or so. That would be killing two unoriginal birds with one stone. NICE!



- Is it just me or does she look like Janet Jackson? Because she so has had a nose job...

Matthew Good Concert

I am hoping that I will go to the Matthew Good Concert in Kitchener, but I can't seem to find the time to order tickets... I'm a disgrace to all Matthew Good fans. Plus, I've read that he is probably not renewing his contract with his label, which means that he will go into "hibernation". But, this could be rumor (I desperately hope it is...). I've become addicted to his book AT LAST THERE IS NOTHING LEFT TO SAY all thanks to my cousin!

Sex and the City Movie!!!

I absolutely cannot wait until the SEX and the CITY movie comes out on May 30th!!! I just recently got addicted to it and then it ended. Now I can get my fill again. I don't even care if it sucks, as long as it's there to watch.

Speaking of movies...Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom was on the t.v yesterday and I would just like to point out that the main girl was so pathetic. When the evil dude came at her mouth with his hands, she screamed. I would have bit his finger off. Like come on. Why in the hell did Indiana bring her anyway? She was just dead weight and couldn't even run away from her captures. Now Shorty, he knew crazy kung-foo and how old was he? Like four? And he knew how to escape his chains, stop people from being possessed, saved Indiana's ass, beat up the crazy voodoo kid, freed the slaves, steered the mine cart, and whipped some guy's ass...literally... Now, is it too much to ask for a little bite of the evil guy's hand? Like what is the worst thing that screaming can do? Maybe he will have to go to therapy for a few years, whatever. Not having a finger is permanent, especially if she had swallowed it.

Einstein's Opinion Revealed

Renowned scientist Albert Einstein dismissed the Bible as a collection of “pretty childish” legends and belief in God as a “product of human weaknesses,” according to a letter to be auctioned this week.

My comments:

I was not surprised to hear this since, Einstein had a brilliant mind that could come to its own conclusions about life. If your choice is the bible, after obvious consideration, then great. But, as an atheist or a non-believer I can see that the bible started as a good idea, but was taken too literally. A book that passed on the story of a man who did great things. The people who wrote it probably had no idea that others would eventually criticize it. But, most religions are outdated and overly worshiped to a dangerous extent. The rules were designed to maintain control over a vast number of people, to make sure that morals were being passed on and that if you did bad things then you would burn in Hell for all eternity. The fact is that some take religion too seriously and need to realize that God was created in a book, he is not the creator. Have you ever wondered why God only existed once "man" started to walk on the earth or why is it that other animals do not have gods? Maybe they are smarter than us and God is just our way to easily control the outcome of the ever-changing world. We are just children trying to stop from growing up. Because you have to admit...there is nothing worse that realizing that all that you have been taught is a ploy to persuade a mast majority into following a God that does not exist. Religion is a last ditch measure used as a obstacle to prevent people's rights from being met. For example, where in the bible does it say to hate homosexuals, capture slaves, ostracize people who do not believe in god or devalue women. These problems are all the result of people looking too far into a religion that is based hundreds of years in the past. The bible is just a bunch of old mens' attempt to pass on their twisted beliefs to an easily persuaded future generation. And the sad part is that they have, but we are slowly but surely fighting back a ghost that refuses to leave. It's time for us to follow in Einstein's footstep and come to our own conclusions. It's time for us to think for ourselves.

States of Being

Heaven and hell are not places. They are states of being. We walk among you. You are blind. I hope, desperately that this is real. My words will be worth nothing otherwise. How foolish I have been. I've almost lost the fight. There is a boxing ring somewhere filling with my blood. You are rubbing salt in my wounds. My screams are mute. My mouth is closed. You are drinking my pain. Tastes good doesn't it?

Bedtime

The fact is...that you are never truly alone because everything you do will be based on someone else's ideas. It doesn't matter is you work yourself to death trying to be different. Your ideas will have been thought of by another person. You may deem it odd that I am writing at such a young age, but this time is incredibly important since I am very young, therefore ignorant. I cannot write about love or wisdom. I have yet to live. No, now is my time to ask questions. Later, I may find some answers, maybe I wont. Maybe I'll never give up searching. That's what kills us. We are all children 'til the end. Sticky and perverse children. It's your bedtime, in the morning things can be different, as long as you never open your eyes my love. Your barriers will crumble, these walls that have been built, by those you will never know and for a reason you cannot bare to comprehend. But I will let you in on a secret...

they were built to keep these very thoughts out. once they are in, there is no stopping them my dear.

Poems

Here's some weird poems that I wrote in one of my moods:

For the time being, I will be lost amongst you. You will forget.
Forget this life. Life not lived.
Lived without friends. Friends are only enemies in disguise.
Disguise their real self, stab me in the back.
Back to me and my mind. Mind you, it is worth nothing.
Nothing ends with nothing. Nothing lasts forever.
Forever when you are alone. Alone you are gone.
Gone away. Away, so far.
Far from where I am. Am I?
I am lost. Lost for the time being.

Sitting doing everything. Everything eventually ends.
Ends are the result of beginnings. Beginnings are where everything goes wrong.
Wrong again, child, wrong again. Again and again you scream.
Scream and it disappears. Disappears like your existence.
Existence is the state of being. Being alive.
Alive, like your fears. Fears are eating your inside out.
Out damned spot. Spot of your blood on the ground.
Ground floor and it's your stop.

"People who are fake scare me. People who are real scare me more."

My Pledge to Be Veg

I've recently become a vegetarian and it already is having an effect on my mood. I have noticed that I'm happier and bad days are getting less frequent. Yet, the vegetarian food and meat alternatives are very expensive and I'm beginning to feel guilty because my mom is paying for it all. This will probably be my "down fall" but I'm trying to put it behind me as long as I can. I realized that this "phase" in my life is mostly fueled my competition with my friend Adam since we both decided to go vegetarian at the same time. We had both seen the PETA documentary and were repulsed by the images. My mom tells me that they are extremists, but I cannot stay ignorant to the fact that no matter what these things are happening.

For example, number 5, Eight Belles' breakdown and euthanasia at the Kentucky Derby. It has put the spotlight back on an industry that puts speed and profit first and leaves the horses in last place. I was making cookies at the time in the kitchen and my Dad asked me to pick a horse to win. I remembered my experience at the racetrack when I was little, since I used to cry as I heard the horses being whipped while they ran by. I remembered it was like they were trying to run away but, they just could not seem to get anywhere. At first I told him zero, but after a while of annoyance I finally caved in and picked my favourite number. "Fine... I pick number five."

It was reported that the horse broke both its front ankles and was euthanized a short while after. But, what the hell right? At least it came in second...