This would be a second post in one day. I don't have much else to do.

Well, I have doubt anyone's going to see this before it starts becoming unimportant, but anyway...

I should have left for China today this morning. And I should have been there in about four hours from now. The flight was cancelled. I don't think anyone else is around, so it's just me and my head.
I'll be going to a camp in China, cancelling original plans. I've grown a bit more neutral from the dissapointment. But I could still... see it. Maybe I'm "weird": a teenager with an extraodinary amount of joy racing through him. Lying on a bed with new bunkmates/acquantinces, with earbuds in his ears, listening to Brahms or something because he can't seem to fall asleep at around 11:00 for a reason hardly anyone knows.
Well, it's going to be different. Would it be racist if I'm not as appreciative of this? I dunno, maybe it's because I need an environment with less... Asians. Yes okay, that was quite racist. Sorry. I have a much smaller, vague, and boring image of me there. Well, I'm not going to give mcuh more reason.

I'm not sure if I'll be able to post for a while because China might block. I'm coming back home late August or early September.

So, I guess this would be it. I hope I'll be able to post regularly.

They run before you can speak. And they go on and on and on....

The brain is the most complex part of the body. Before anyone can verbally say the word, "zoom", at least two or three thoughts already sped through your head. Try it... of course. See? Probably four to six by now.
That's basically my blog, or just words in general. By the time I'm finished with one sentence, I probably had a number of thoughts that I would never - ever - be able to put down completely. It will take longer than forever. My fingers will never be as fast as my brain.
And not even words can explain this. One would probably have no idea how I got from trying to explain the speed of the mind to thinking about standing on the tip of the Empire State building... go ahead and call me suicidal. To get from Point A to Point B takes at least 8 steps in between, under two seconds to get through for me, hours to process for you, probably toil- filled eternity to clearly comprehend.
And guess what? Nobody ever bothers to do that.
Conclusion: SUICIDAL.
Because my mind is more "sick"than the "norm"?

Go ahead. Be a boy in my grade, and call me "emo". Be my father, and call me "suicidal" and "in danger". And then blame it on others. Be another worrisome adult to hear my words, and go subconciously fear me.

But as I see this fear in people's eyes, I can't help but let my heart laugh...

"I never wanted this!" Wrong. It has already happened; to some I'm a completely new "person". I never actually desired a change, but in a way I truly appreciate it now that it occured.
To some, I'm a "freak", a "monster".

This leads me to my next point...

I fail here, there. I cling on to this, that. I've accomplished this, that. I try to let go of this, that. This is how my existence is ran.
Death is so difficult to achieve. I've stopped trying to walk toward it. Just look at the white scratch on my skin from a blade. Nonetheless, no sweet blood to taste. What does that leave me with? Myself still as a walking figure.

My brain will never grow to a different perspective. I've set my code. So yes, I'm stuck.
I might as well be twenty- seven. Or forty. Or fifty- two. Or seventy. Or tragically stuck at thirteen. It's all the same; my head will work the same. But never younger. I pretty much threw that away already as if I can hardly remember it now.
And now, I'm not even waiting for anything. Instead, I'm just thinking about what's ahead of me.
As far as I know, and as far this term goes, I'm good as damned.

___


Well like I said before, words won't fulfill. In that case, I'm not suicidal. Besides, what does that word even mean? Yeah, go ahead and gather a few words and say that's "suicidal". You said I'm human. And humans "are all different". So as far as you are concerned, am I not just "different"? It disgusts me when you say I'm in depression because I never pick up my Wii remote for video games and that I hardly go for a walk at noon.

It goes on and on and on...
Hm.

Dawn at a new start

I believe I'm a thinker. I think, and I never get tired of it. I write. If I'm not listening to you, I'm in my own head (or almost ALWAYS in there for that matter). And not seven people in this world comprehend me when listening to me.

I believe I'm an artist. I paint. Traces of my thinkings lie in my works. The shading... The way marks are made on paper...

I guesss that's good right? I shall continue...

I listen to your tone. I look at your foot and how it's positioned. I'm a thinker, and part of hides my stares at you and tries to get into your head. Then I get scenarios in mine... what will I do? I have to fight things off such as paranoia and someimtes envy. It's usually quite difficult to do THAT part.

I try hard to paint gracefully. And then make a graceful result. Let's see if that effort applies...

Does anyone get the idea yet?

I almost NEVER use terms like this one because of it's profanity and it's lack of just, purpose, and reality of a noun: sh*ta**. I am a sh*ta** when it comes to my academic work ethic. I'm going to admit it until I'm satisfied with my results as a freshman. Two out of five of my classes are at the lowest level of three levels. I loathe the actual term. And then I feel arrogant because I hate it- like a snob, except one who doesn't achieve academically. So yes, call me a loser.

Sometimes, I don't think I deserve the only thing I truly appreciate from life: my friends and their families. And I get this confusing feeling when I'm told otherwise.

Don't think I'm hating myself. I'm not exactly. <-- That message there are especially to the people who went here on my blog when they were supposed to not to - and they get the wrong idea. You know who you are; I know you'll come back to see this.

But I'm constantly in a debate with myself. So I need to confess, redeem , and push myself more. Most the time, that doesn't really help. Maybe I should just push myself even more. No praying to a spirit. No punishing myself. Because I better work harder and avoid that kind of stuff.

Dawn for a new start. Hm.

Bored-To-Numbness-With-An-Ache-From-Absence Season

I look back at the half of the year.
Knowing how much I've - for lack of better words - f___d up, I wish I could go back to January 2010. This means I've done a whole lot better in school. This means I wasn't lost all the time until... March? This means I what I know now is what I wished I have done. And that I became a thinker then, so I'd be "mentally sick" earlier, and "healed" by now.

But then I argue against that side of me: if I did, would I have taken the chance?
I'm not certain. However, because it's nearly impossible to knock sense into me two months earlier than I really did, I'll just have to look at what's ahead real close... - again. I knew perfectly well I had to say that again some day. I believe I said so in an earlier post. What makes matters worse is that I always know even if I do, I'll end up back where I started. And there's not a thing to tell when another day comes and I forget...

I cut once or twice to remind me of my failures. I'm not going back there again. This leads me to the next point... (those who don't want to read this or those who think they will be influenced, skip this paragraph. I've added a big space after it)



Goodness, cutting... I remember clearly the sharp blade forming a straight line across my arm. This pain, which almost has this numb feeling to it, becomes an obsession, and it doesn't come from my once sadistic and masochistic emotions. This isn't the correct terminology for cutting, but it's almost as if one wants attention. You want people... to feel bad for you and help you. On the other hand, you enjoy the pain so, you almost don't want to get out of it.



















I'm still not considered "safe", so summer - to be less profaine - is probably going to be another bored-to-numbness-with-an-ache-from-absence season.
But this is one rule about the world: people judge your actions. And your actions you can never take back. And your actions you should not take back...

Hm.

Trapped

Well summer's here. Not seasonally though; I could care less how "hot" it is outside (by the way, it was reported there's a heat wave going through the north east) But what I do. I'm going to this summer session. I think I mentioned it last time. Did I ever mention I had to go to therapy? I don't think so. Well, I was discharged just late last week. I didn't mind being there, honestly. I just really don't like how people take it (or "THERAPY = SICK PERSON") So after all that, I go back home. Now, I got a summer job: I'm stuck with my dad in his office for three hours working on the stock market. After that, I just wait for... not much. Nothing seems to happen during the summer, and people seem to mind work a lot less during this time of the year. I just don't like it how that's all people have to do. Everyone is pretty much gone, and I'm still "mentally sick"...

No rule in the world has ever been made strong enough to defeat your mental strength. The only thing holding you back when you are held back is what you made yourself before you fought against the world...

I've talked- and at some points argued- with my parents for th past week or so. I feel like a sissy about it. I guess it's about time I feel the need to finally redeem myself by admitting so.
This is basically what I meant by what I said up there. I have reasons to stop arguing with my parents- stupid- to- the- core reasons. I have reasons to contine arguing with my parents- nothing to lose and everything to gain.
I'm not going to elaborate anymore than that.

That's the first week or so of summer....

P.S- Sorry about the Fourth of July. I forgot to take a decent picture. I only got video (wait, actually I'll check because I might have. I'll just check later).
P.S.S- I might post later this evening. Just saying..

July!

Well July's here, and June seemed to go around real quick.

Um, my parents aren't letting me go to camp. I was really pissed like 3 hours ago. I still kind of hate that...

You might realize that my speech pattern is different this time. I'm just kind of really happy right now. I don't know. Endorphins just hit me, I guess. I'm just pretty happy right now. I feel like saying "WWWHHHHEEEEE" and childish shizz, and I'm not usually like that.

I'm not drunk or high though. What else...

Oh yeah! The birthdate of this country is tomorrow, and that's pretty exciting. I'm planning to watch the fireworks. I'll take pictures of it :-DDDDD I hope they'll turn out pretty awesome because taking good pictures of objects in motion is quite something for me.

Okay, well I'm gonna go now. BYE!

Oh, my mom's home. She just got really pissed with stuff and left the house for a few hours.