The Lost Ones: Volume 1

I decided to go through all of my unpublished posts today, but I only made it through 2008 before I got bored. I ended up publishing many of them though, and I gave all of them the label: [Published Later] so it would be easy to sort them in case YOU (me?) wanted to see them without going through all the other ones. Many of them were ones that I felt were too short to publish at the time that I wrote them, but now I just don't care. If I could find anything that I thought was interesting (and I find a lot of what I say to be interesting) I published it. One was simply a picture and did not have any text whatsoever. I even published ones that I thought were too boring at the time that I wrote them. Not anymore! A lot of the drafts didn't have pictures though, so I went back and added pictures that were taken around the same time period, or ones that just fit the subject. But I didn't add text, so what is there is what I wrote at the time.

Of these 16 posts, a few of them are actually full length pieces that I chose not to originally post because I was too uncomfortable to put them on the internet due to my relationships at the time and personal insecurities. I guess I've grown detached enough now from everyone else that exists so that it doesn't really matter. If anyone actually does end up reading them, I doubt they'll care too much. And if they do, well, it was there fault for ending up here in the first place. These posts that I was most uncomfortable with at the time are the ones that are most interesting for me now because they not only bring back the emotions I felt while writing them but also the emotions that prevented me from publishing them. It's like a two for one special. I've always found memories and emotions to be two of the most amazing, painful, and interesting parts of life and I try to capture them on a daily basis. Apparently, sometimes I am successful.

Pot Kidney Pie

My Star Wars kick continues. I just spent the past 3 hours researching and recording information on Star Wars novels. That is where all my time goes. I pick something, get really obsessed with it, make several spreadsheets filled with information that I find interesting, and then move on.

One Hundred and Thirty Star Wars Novels. And that's not counting ANY of the Young Adult or eBook stories. I want to read them all. Unfortunately, I do not consider myself much of a reader. In the past few years I've probably averaged between 6 and 8 books a year. Not that I don't enjoy reading, I just don't DO it. Well, novels. The internet just provides me another path to acquire the basic information in a much shorter time period. I guess it all began in middle school with sparknotes and Lord of the Flies. I enjoyed Lord of the Flies, I flew through the first few chapters, but one day I just didn't have time to read the required chapters for the next day's class. The next day at school I picked up where the rest of the class was and I just never read those few chapters that I missed (turns out they were kind of important [Simon]). Enter, sparknotes chapter summaries. It was too easy. Twenty pages trimmed down into a few paragraphs, and it provided me all the information that I needed in order to get a higher grade on the test than most of the other students. I didn't see any reason not to use sparknotes. At least no reason not to use them for books I didn't really care for (a.k.a. Charles Dickens). Now, almost a decade later the internet has just grown larger and larger. Even though I haven't been to the sparknotes website in probably 5 years, I can find the same information in a dozen other locations. With wiki sites around every corner for every topic imaginable, I can find a summary with all the vital story points about anything I want. So, should I take the time and read/watch/listen to the entire thing, or should I read a shortened version with all the key points?

That last paragraph may have been misleading. I really do enjoy experiencing things how they were intended, whether it be through a book, a movie, or whatever else. I just sometimes wonder if I'm not wasting my time with the several hours it takes me to read a novel. But really though, what is time to waste? I'm making a crappy blag post; is that really a better use of my time than reading a 400 page Star Wars book? One could argue either I suppose, but I'd end up getting pissed at you for whatever side you chose because the argument itself would be an even bigger waste of time. I could learn summaries of hundreds of stories in the time it takes me to read the 5 books I'm looking at on my shelf right now, but the problem is that I hate spoilers. The internet is one giant spoiler. What was I talking about again?

New subject:

So it turns out that one of my buddies linked this worthless piece of trash blog in one of their recent posts. This made me conscious of the fact that everything I write on here can actually be viewed by anybody. I'm not sure I really like the idea of that since I find it a lot easier to write when I'm upset and thus I may come across as being one of those whiny little teenage assholes. I just read through all of my posts from 2009, and. Well, they all suck. And are good examples of the point I'm trying to make. I thought about deleting them for my own peace of mind, but I find them somewhat amusing. Plus, I suppose they're canon so I can't just toss them to the wind. Just because a story arc is bad doesn't mean you can disregard it from the series. As ridiculous as some of the things I write may be, apparently that's really what I was feeling at the time. I'm nuts. I also checked the number of unpublished drafts. 57. I wonder if there is anything worthwhile in any of those. That's not to say that there is anything worthwhile in any of these. Some of the pictures are fun. At least for me.

The Chicago Blackhawks won the Stanley Cup on Wednesday, and the World Cup started today. I really don't think it gets much better than this.

I feel like this post was very scatterbrained. I've been falling asleep for about an hour and a half now, so I guess I should actually do that. I might edit this all later, but

Death comes unexpectedly

You know, it would be nice if it wasn't so difficult to fall asleep most of the time. Sure there are those times when you just collapse and you're out for days, but there are so many times when all I want to do is sleep. Maybe my body is just scared to go to sleep after what I woke up to this morning. Here was the dream:

I was sitting either in an underground hill beside a road or an above ground one, it is unclear but I really think it was both. Next to me was some companion, but I cannot say who. I remember that we were trying to figure out some sort of puzzle, but I have no memory of what it could have been. As we thought about it, a caravan of old style cadillacs drove by, each driver with a golden helmet and a silver "blast shield" (whatever the eye cover that comes down from helmets is called, like from star wars). One driver reaches over his car and makes a C with his hand in a motion similar to that of "solid" but not a full fist. Next, I was in a jeep with Tarver driving and someone else sitting in the back seat going down the highway. We were in a remote location that reminds me of a cityless part of Texas or Arizona, but there was a lot of traffic. As we're driving another car pulls in front of us with a machine gun mounted on the back. Tarver sighs and says, "I called this," as they begin to fling hundred of bullets our way. I see his body get riddled and his eyes close as we pull off the road in a last ditch attempt at escape. I remember being filled with more dread than I have ever felt in my life. I was terrified. I had absolutely no desire to die, despite it being almost inevitable. As I tumbled out of the jeep onto the ground in a bloody mess, Tarver clearly already dead, the other passenger status unknown I covered my neck and thought, "Save me! save me! save me!" over and over again. I guess it was a last ditch attempt at God or anything that would save my life. It was the worst feeling I have ever felt in my life. I didn't feel any pain, simply terror. I was dying. I remember being enveloped in red and waking up with a jerk of my head and tears in my eyes. I couldn't move for over a minute and just sat there, thinking back on my death. I don't want to die at all.

So the question is, what is it that I do want? If dying scares me so much, what is it that drives me to stay alive? A family. Probably. Someone to care for and love me in return. I find myself wondering whether I will just be one of those guys that never finds anyone and just wastes his days drowning in his own pile of money. One of those uncles that you're not really sure about. A lighthearted fellow at all the extended family gatherings that is not nearly as happy as he seems. I don't understand how you couldn't want it. Not having that desire just seems so void of everything I want in life as a whole. But I guess that's what makes everything so cool. I think my favorite thing about everything is how awesome it is. Everyone is so different. The game is and always will be surrounding yourself with people that you can stand and that can stand you right on back.