cheers to highschool suckage.

currently 1:06 AM as i write this sentence. I am also currently inebriated.. oh the wonders of underage drinking. wait. did i just say wonders?

I have absolutely no idea as to why I subject myself to this kind of behaviour. I don't think I'm the rebellious type. nor do i like the feeling. It makes me drowsy and my brain stops working. Who the fuck wants their brain to stop working. legit though. i cannot control my actions, as hard as i try, or at least I think I'm trying hard, but I suppose I will never know because if Im under the infuence my judgement will be impaired and if Im sober I wont have a clear understanding because of the lack of state.

Did I mention that alcohol also tastes disgusting? Because it does. Everytime I take a shot, or have a sip or whatever, I cringe. I gag. But I get over it. I suck it up and I down the illegal substance while in my hands. Drunkeness is overated. I know that and i upset myself by always going back to it. but WHY.

Its that I can never figure out. Is it because everyone else is doing it? mmmm.. nope. I am not the conformist type. Is it because I want to fit in? mmmm.. nope. I know who my friends are.
then why.. i can never come up with an answer..

Anyways. back to the original reason for writing a post this late at night when i need my sleep so i can have a major chemistry study session. Highschool sucks. Well.. not really.. but the situatons we put ourselves into suck. Its poor judgement mixed with drugs mixed with our current wants..

Tonight I felt as if things changed. I dont know what changed or how it changed.. all I know is that things change..and they changed tonight. I have learned to trust my intuition and to follow it no matter what, and this is the feeling Im getting.

I know Monday will be awkward for whatever reason and I know that Ill be having some future long converstions with some friends with weak situation dealing skills.

I've learned that guys are jerks and girls are trusting.

I've learned that people do what they want.

I've learned that I care mostly for the way others are feeling.

God help me. God help us all.
Beuse we need it. I can admit that.

So heres to long, unremebered nights,
stupid boys,
stupid girls.
Here's to molding oursleves to the wants of others
blind love
blind heartbreak.

Here's to highschool.

Cheers. Ill see you in the morning.


And if this blog sounds totally incoherant..

And thats when my laptop died and I forgot about ever writing this post until i write this sentence.

photography over all. over sanity. over humanity.

Currently 9:02 PM as I write this sentence. I am sitting in my living room observing a documentary. This is an academy award nominee documentary in case you were wondering and it goes by the title "James Nachtwey: War Photographer" borrowed from the wonderful Mr. Murray, aka murr-dawg.

James Nachtwey is claimed to be the greatest war photographer of all time.. and with that I cannot disagree. His pictures are nothing less of stunning. But its hard to believe someone can distance themselves so much from horror that is happening 5 feet in front of them. I am the type of person who cannot bear to watch someone in pain. I have an undying need to help, to comfort. So watching the scene that just passed has made my heart shatter. The film kept rolling and the camera kept clicking as the female subject cried out. Her son was just murdered in a time of war. Her son was just murdered. Her son is dead. And she screams, and the tears fall. But the camera doesn't stop. ever.

Its hard for me to watch something like that, then for it to show him right after sitting in his quarters polishing his camera..

I quite obviously do not agree with this.. and as much as I try to not be biased.. i feel as if not helping has made him as much a monster as the ones that caused the destruction captured in his photographs. I do not respect this. I do not. I will not. And yet..

The photos..

But they are so much more than photos.. they are.. still theatre. Telling a story through a single image. Full of depth and full of emotion.. full of Nachtweys passion and of his soul. I've never seen such an image to make me break into tears that still stain my face because they are just that powerful. And although I cannot repect and agree with him.. I cannot help but respect and agree with his ART. Such an oxymoron, I am aware.. but the only thing I can say is to watch the documentary for yourselves.

I can only hope to achieve the level of artistics Nachtwey has attained.. and thats just it. I can only hope. I know now after watching that i could never ever do his line of work. I cannot sit around and record images while people are crying for my help.. screaming.. litterally begging to be held.. And so I commend Nachtwey for having that courage and discipline.

By now you probably have assumed I dislike the photographer known as James Nachtwey.. but you could not be more wrong. He is one of my photography icons.. heros per se. I view his outlook as something to learn from, not something to live by and I will always continue to admire the masterpieces he has created. He managed to turn something so gut wrenching and horrifying into artistic history. His photos inspire and cause room for thought.

. lets just hope you are never the one on the other side of his camera.

estranged

i love the world.
i truly do.

but i can never help but feel detatched at all times from it.
ive never felt in synch with my surroundings.. the lines never fit.

hmm. what a great thing to start my blog off with.. my philosophical woes. call me the anti existentialist for i place far too much hope into my destiny and the wonders of the universe.
but thats me. the boy who dreamt. who dreams. who will continue to dream. mostly because, without dreaming, why live. seriously though. someone without hope will not have a future, or at least not a very good one. so dream for the best, and you'll end up with some form of it.

currently. 1:30 in the a.m. as i write this sentence. on a school night. i suppose this has become my life. planning to study.. in this case french, and ending up on facebook. for hours. so ive traded that vice for this contraption of writing my thoughts into a public space.. which in retrospect will most likely end up being a not so great idea. i can already feelt he addicition starting.

so good night for the night. dream well. dream often.