First Draft, New Story, "Thunder Out In The Distance" Scene 1

John walked out on the balcony, feeling sick to his stomach, and breathed in a crisp fall breeze. His head cleared, but he was still baffled. He let a few drips of spit slide out of his mouth and down to the concrete three stories below. He looked to his left, then to his right. He coughed and felt the last two days weigh on his shoulders. He turned and began toward the warmth of inside, but Olivia slid the plate glass door to the side and stepped into the wind. John turned back to the rail and stuck a cigarette in his mouth. Olivia stepped across the balcony. There was no greeting; they were too anxious. Olivia put her back to the balcony and leaned slightly into John’s side. He looked away, struck a match, and lit his cigarette.
“You could just buy a lighter.” John half turned toward her, opened his mouth to speak, but said nothing. They stood together, silent, and John finished his cigarette. He flicked it off the edge and watched the tiny orange dot disappear beneath him.
“I like the taste,” John finally answered. For a moment, it appeared that neither of them would speak again. John finally broke the silence with a sigh. “What are we doing here?” he uttered in the way a person who hasn’t rested in days speaks. Olivia looked to the ground and tears welled in her eyes. John leaned farther over the edge and pretended not to notice.
“Can I get one of those?” she asked, trying to choke back the pit in her throat.
“Are you crazy? These things will kill you,” he replied, only half-jokingly. Her only response was a blank, vaguely pissed off stare. John looked away and tried unsuccessfully to contain a smile.
“You’re an asshole,” Olivia stated. John turned back and watched a tear slide down her cheek. The smile fell from his face. He put his arm around her and guided her to a seat on the cold concrete against the wall.
“Yea, I know.” John’s head sunk. He couldn’t bring himself to look at her. “Let’s not do this anymore.”
“Okay,” Olivia answered after a moment’s pause. John got up and walked inside, unable to provide any more comfort. He sat on a sofa, someone brought him a beer, but he couldn’t shake the nagging feeling of loss that was bearing down on his shoulders.

Fishboy: Classic Creeps, In Review

Classic Creeps is one of my favorite albums of the year 2011. After browsing through quite a few year-end lists, I've found it's been left off every single one. I feel obligated to at least make a mention, even if no one ever reads this. Classic Creeps is a short, ten song album that tells a complex story about 10 characters and, despite merely scratching the surface of the story, tells us quite a bit about each one of them. It gives us insight into each one's aspirations, actions, and (most frequently) failures. It's not an uplifting story, to say the least. But the manner in which it is presented is simply outstanding and refreshing. The tone of each song shows the sense of hope that the characters keep despite leading miserable lives of yearning. Each and every one wants so much more out of their lives, some act on it and do regrettable things, others just sit in a sense of complacency, avoiding facing their unrealized dreams. Another believes he has accomplished what he set out to do, but he grows increasingly worried just trying to hold onto what he's earned and begins to lose his grip on what he had. Every character is believable and life-like, even when the plot gets a bit strange. And the music! Good lord, the music! Every sound is expertly maneuvered through each song, using originality and repetition alternately to keep us interested and comfortable all the time. Please, listen to this album. I cannot recommend it enough.

Good God, I've Become a Terrible Writer

I wish I knew what I'm doing. Like, some general sketch for the future. I think I'm in the right major, keeping the right people close to me, and mostly not fucking up. Been trying to stay as punk as possible for the last 6 months or so, spending time/money going to shows and broadening my "don't give a fuck" attitude. Sorry, I don't know how to put that without sounding like a pretentious piece of shit. But I'm really trying to never stress or let people I don't care for mold me into something I don't want to be. Might get harder to do without Double Dagger, one of the few staples in my life over the last couple years. Their last show is tomorrow, and I can't describe how incredible the previous two have been. If the last one comes near either of those (surely it should surpass them?) it will leave a good mark on this chapter of my life. Hopefully my jaw isn't too fucked up from last night (and doesn't get elbowed again tomorrow)...

Peace.

Let's Tie Him Up and Make Him Drink a Lot.... Because He's New

So it's been a while since I last posted: basically since I started dating Kalli. I guess I had too much to do this summer, worked about 35 hours a week (actually enjoyed it a little), and did absolutely nothing other than hang out with Kalli and, on occasion, Tim. It was a good summer, to say the least. Some of the best nights of my life were just hanging out with Kalli. Senior week was nuts, and not necessarily in a good way. Still tentatively planning on doing it next year. At the end of semester now, exam week. I guess I'm doing this to avoid studying, but I'm worried my writing has slipped a little bit too. Too many fucking science classes. Taking Intro to the Novel next semester, and I'm fucking pumped. Might actually feel like school instead of just dicking around like the last 3 months have been. It's good though. Got 2 fun roommates, one who's in engineering with me and I'll probably end up living with at least next year, and another who is alright, gets fucked up a lot and one time let the title of this slip out when a gay kid temporarily moved onto our floor. Not too sure if he hates the gays but he's totally terrified of them. He's moving out next semester and he's worried that his new roommate will be gay. Needless to say we mock him for this incessantly. Oh yea, my baseball team won our league for the first time in almost 20 years. And I did end up graduating high school. No shit.

More News From Nowhere

you know that feeling when life seems to start sliding into place? like the last hundred pieces of a puzzle? all of a sudden things start getting easier and take less effort and everything is just as fun or more fun then it ever was. thats my life right now. i'm not sure why, but everything is good. maybe it's the change in the air: 18 years with my parents and then suddenly i'm off alone. dunno. 18 in 5 days. time to buy cigarettes and porn and join the army. all on good friday. weird. first time i've ever wanted to have school on my b-day.
Fuck, man, life is good, and so are clichés. Peace.

When you Grow Up, Will We Still Be Friends?

The other day I realized that someone I considered a good friend is my complete opposite. I made a joke that I found really amusing at the time, and he took it really seriously. This kid has known me for about 3 years. At this point he should expect it. It's just that his personality somehow prevents him from joking around, arguing for the sake of arguing, making up random statistical evidence, and talking shit pointlessly, which is basically everything I love to do. He takes political correctness to the extreme, thinking that an insensitive joke is unquestionably offensive regardless of the context. I mean, I know sometimes I say stuff I shouldn't say, but that kid takes stuff way too far. At some point you have to remember you're still 17, buddy.

Anyway, the title is a quote from a Capote short story, maybe my favorite quote ever. Every time I read it I think of all the people I've ever met, how I've drifted from my IHM friends and how I won't likely see most of my high school class after graduation, even the ones I like. I think about how my dad isn't in touch with anyone from high school or earlier. I remember my oldest friends, Will and Mike, and wonder why I haven't seen Mike in almost a year, and if this means that we're drifting apart or if it's just temporary.

Fuck, Not the 2005 Ravens Again

I've been reflecting on the last few years a lot recently, preparing for graduation, I guess. Anyway I remembered a moment from JV football that really sums up many of the things I do. It was 3rd and 7, and I got one of my rare opportunities to play. Surprisingly, the coach (now a good friend) decided to give me a shot with the ball. 3rd and 7, what the hell, why not? So we ran the play, and I got the handoff, broke through the hole, everything was going fine. Standing right in front of the hole were two linebackers. Right then, I panicked. I realize now that this was a crucial moment in my football years. Instead of breaking outside, trying to go around, making a play, going all out, taking a FUCKING CHANCE, I ran right at 'em. Got 3 goddamn yards. That was the only handoff I ever have or ever will take in a football game.
What I just realized is that this is what I've been doing my whole life. Avoiding the big mistakes, happy with a small gain even if a little chance could result in so much more.

On a note that's pretty fucking cool, I tossed a baseball with Cal Ripken, Jr. yesterday. He even gave me a compliment. One of my heroes. Damn, that felt good.

A Little Confused, Feeling a Little Reckless. Also, OUTER SPACE!!!

What's going on in my life right now!?! For the last year or so, I've been convinced that I want to study engineering. In the last week, I've started questioning it. In my 21st century science class, we spent a day learning about current missions trying to figure if life exists elsewhere in the universe. I realized how badly I want to know more about this and study it. Ever since I first saw Return of the Jedi at the Senator (I think it was 1998, 15th anniversary re-release, maybe)I've loved imagining what else could be out there. I've read countless fan-fiction novels; needless to say it really got me interested in space travel. So now I'm seriously considering trying to get into an astronomy program. Apparently Hopkins' program is really good; the Hubble's images are initially sent to their lab, and they already have the contract for the Hubble's replacement. Fuck, that sounds so exciting. Maybe I could experience some of the first images from the new telescope (I believe it's going to be called the James Webb Telescope). In general, astronomy sounds so cool. We know so little about anything smaller than suns outside our solar system, but with more and more advanced telescopes and hopefully some long-range probes, we can eventually learn some more.

Apparently it now only snows on days when I don't have school anyway. Whatever, school's not so bad anymore anyway. Retreat was one of the most interesting experiences of my life. It wasn't fun or exciting at all (excluding a few select moments). Basically I just learned a whole bunch of stuff about some people that I knew relatively little about. I used to think religion was dead at Gilman. Well, that was way off, to say the least. A few of our discussions turned into gay-bashing homophobic rants by a couple of the kids, and I'm pretty certain one kid tried to convert me. Whatever, they're all pretty cool guys regardless. Some of my views were drastically altered, but some were affirmed by our discussions. A guy that I was pretty sure had never had a problem in his life actually had never had a problem.

Enough with this rambling, I'm out.

I'm Ready for that Wild and Reckless Breeze

second semester, senior year. So many things going down right now. This week: acceptance (hopefully) from UMD, advancing (hopefully) to semi-finals for Nova scholarship, senior retreat, new classes (including Dan Christian's C.S. Lewis, I'm so excited), getting reamed by end of semester/exam grades (I got an email yesterday telling me that I'm lucky I didn't get a 0% on a psych assignment). Most of all though, it's a fresh start. Grades start to lose meaning. I have only 8 (?) months until college. I still have no idea where I'll be heading. Swarthmore, Hopkins, UMD, Nova, GW, Bucknell all sound fantastic. I'm also heavily addicted to coffee; during exam week I averaged 4 cups a day. Now I'm cutting back to 1-2, and I'm gonna have to go cold turkey on retreat. Whatever, I just get really tired without it. After 8 hours of sleep yesterday, I fell asleep at 1pm, about 4 hours after getting up. I'm a little fucked. Also, when I do drink coffee, my face twitches madly whenever I get nervous. I gotta get off that shit. Shouldn't be too tough though. Fuck it's delicious though. I'm drinking a cup right now.

Another thing: 2010 is pretty damn good so far music-wise. The Monitor might just be better than anything from 2009, and Spraynard put out a damn fine album as well. Put that together with another Gaslight album, possibly another Hold Steady album. 2009 was a pretty goddamn amazing year, but I think 2010 is going to top it. Fuck, I just know something disastrous is going to happen to fuck it up for me. Ah, well, I'll just live it out.

I Named My Recent Short Story "Trapped In The Closet" For Shits And Giggles

yo. im tired of this high school bullshit. taking classes in areas that i couldnt give a single fuck about. china? writing fiction? i suck major cock at english/history. i want to learn something thats important to me. and yea, i still have to try cause i didnt get into columbia. where am i headed now? jhu? swarthmore? umd? villanova? i'd be cool with any of these, but i just want to know now. i gotta be done with gilman. 5 months left i guess. i'll just have to wait it out, bs some assignments, stay up all night watching shitty movies.

fuck! my ears are still ringing from that double dagger concert yesterday. i wish i didnt know that i'm going deaf. hopefully cochlear implants will be amazing by the time i need one. theyre pretty good already, but i dont think you can listen to music through one.

i think im changing my mind about seeing the youth in revolt movie. the preview makes it look amazing. presenting nick and francios as two characters in the same scene sounds like a great idea. i laughed out loud at francios' silly mustache. my god, it will be amazing.

Why do people get so excited for little stupid shit? Pep rally was today, and it was the same as every other year, more or less. The school president wrote a poem that was slightly amusing, we made fun of Mcdonogh for being a bunch of rednecks (even though a good chunk of our students live closer to Mcdonogh than Gilman), and then we beat down on them. People didn't get too pumped for this, but at the end a couple skydivers jumped down and everyone went nuts. I don't get it.

Other than that, first round of college apps are done. Good for me. Life moves on.

The Only Thing We Know Is It's Getting Dark And We Better Go

Love is in the air. My uncle is getting married today (finally). Good for him. I think he'll be so much happier for the rest of his life. Anyway, for once I know a girl that I don't completely hate. I'm not certain that I particularly like her, but she's smart and likes decent music, so I respect her. Goddamn. Have I never respected a girl before? I can't think of any examples that disprove this. Wow. Maybe I'm just a bitter jackass. Or maybe girls need to stop being such whores. It doesn't really matter. I'm excited for life again.

girls, girls, girls, girls, girls I do adore...

maybe not jay-z, but I think I know what you mean.

College, Redundancy, The Big Dance

Working hard, trying desperately to get into Columbia. Classes are pretty easy though. I really wish I had put some effort into the first 3 years. Fuck. I'm going to end up going to my third or fourth choice because I dicked around so much. I tried to be cool by not doing any work, but now I realize all that matters is what I want, and what I want now is to get into college. I guess I just never thought about it until my counselors told me my grades needed to be about 5 points higher to get into a top college. I had always assumed that I would destroy the SATs and everything would sort itself out after that. Apparently that isn't the way things work.

In other news, homecoming this weekend. I'm not sure what to feel. I am actually going to the dance for the first time. Honestly, I don't care for dances at all. They are tacky and boring for the most part. I guess just hanging out will be fun. The girl I'm taking is pretty and is into some decent music. I'm not sure we totally agree about music, but I think only 2-3 people do. Also, in a surprising coincidence, out of the twenty-some people at Mirkwood in July, both of us were in attendance! And I didn't even know this until after I asked her to the dance. FUCKING WILD.

fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

Summer sucks. I get yelled at everyday to get a job, I don't get to sleep in anymore, and every night is like a Friday: exhausting. I wish I were 12 or 13 again. Working 5 hours a week was more than enough; I had virtually no expenses. At least during school I could see my friends without spending all my money on something to do. Why can't we all just hang out anymore? Why do we always have to buy food or go out? I'd be happy just watching the O's at someone's house. I'll even bring some fucking cheese dip.

How Anologous!

this charming man: the gaslight anthem as MKS: the unbroken heroes

ah. summer. the year just flew by. Wieters is in the majors now. Every time he gets up I expect some great hit, which is completely unfair of me, but fuck it, O's fans deserve to be hopeful about something. Prom in two days. I guess that will be fun. I find it hard to get excited about something like that though. It's so regulated by our overprotective parents and the administration of our school. All this unneccessary protection just kind of annoys me. Why can't they just let us be regular teenagers? I'm not saying they should let us show up plastered, but dancing restrictions? Seriously? Just let us be ourselves.

I have only one question going into summer. Will the Waffle Song finally be recorded? Probably not. We (me, that other kid who likes MKS, maybe Tim and/or Joe Gallagher) can only hope.

Titus Again (at the Black Cat w/ Lucero)

So of my 17 posts, 3 are about Titus. I can't help it. They're so fucking good. And of all the bands they could play with, they picked a damn good one. Lucero is a group that I've never really gotten into, but they seem to always be in the peripheral of my musical senses. Not that that makes any sense whatsoever. I guess what I'm trying to say is that I've never gone on a binge on which all I do is listen to Lucero for 2 days or a week, but I've always listened to them, 5-6 plays a week or so. Anyway, Titus is just going to blow everyone's mind. I'll be surprised if they don't exceed my expectations, which is surprising because they are really fucking high.

BEST O'S GAME EVER!!!!!!

Friday night, best Orioles game ever. O's won 5-4, after some serious tension in the top of the ninth, and we saw a fight - firstly, it started when one guy threw another about four rows down and five seats to the right. Then, the second guy's friend punched the first guy right in the face, which resulted in immediate retalliation. At one point, the first guy was choking the third guy, so someone pulled them apart, and the first guy turned around like the fight was over. The third guy got up slowly, drew back his arm, and whacked the first guy as hard as he possibly could in the back of the head, and the whole thing started back up again. Later, we discovered that all black people say pluck instead of flick. I'm not really sure how it came up, but we asked 4 random black guys out on the street and each one said pluck (when we flicked a 5th guy, he tried to tell us we were flashing him a gang sign). We then continued the experiment with 4 white people, who all said flick. Then, quite randomly and unexpectedly, a half-black woman stepped up and said she uses them interchangably. There is no way that's just a coincidence.

Remember That One Time Mike Bit Me So I Choked His Ass?

I have to start off by saying most of this shit is just what I remember. That doesn't mean it happened. I really did just make some of this stuff up. Also, I tried to be impartial, but I know it's pretty biased. Finally, I wrote this paper for school, so it had to be both interesting and devoid of anything incriminating or that puts me in a bad light. Enjoy

The most vicious and, some would say, only fight of my life (actually I had one other btw) started over what now seems such a trivial matter, but at the time was one of my biggest fears: exclusion. It started like any other time my brother Brooks and I would hang out with our friends Will and Mike, who are brothers and have been friends with my brother and me since birth. Mike would call Will a loser with no life, so Will would hit Mike, and Mike would either a)tell on him to their parents (which was rarely effective because their parents were extremely lenient in their punishments) or b)hit Will with a baseball bat (only happened once but still). As I recall this was a time that their parents believed no punishment was necessary, so we were able to actually spend an entire night without any parental interference. The most fun thing to do was always building forts with chairs, blankets, and anything else that was lying around. So we built our fort, and, for some reason, Will, Mike, and Brooks decided it would be hilarious to exclude me from the completed work for a short time. I did not like this one bit. I decided to build my own, cooler fort, but, lacking the necessary materials, I wound up tucking a blanket into a dresser drawer, putting a yardstick underneath it for support, and sitting under there alone. Then they decided to push it too far. Mike snuck over and pulled the dresser drawer out, letting the blanket drop down around me. I was so upset that I cried. All I wanted was to be left alone and mope for a bit, but they had to push it. I buried my inner anguish, and they soon let me back into the real fort.
The next morning, we returned to our fort. After some time I remember a ball was thrown out of the fort, and, as I went to retrieve it, they re-blocked the entrance to the fort. I refused to take that abuse again. I broke through the barricade, and fell in the fort on top of Mike. He yelped and pushed me off himself. I was so upset and angry, my mind rife with raw emotion, that I gave him a hard shove back. Later when questioned by my mother about who started the fight, I simply did not have an answer for her. The world was spinning; everything was happening so quickly. Before either of us knew what was happening, we were on each other like wild animals, swinging as hard as we could. His strategy was to bite me; mine was to scratch at his neck and try to choke him. I thought it was a good strategy because when I did it I got a reaction from him, but I realize now that I was actually being incredibly stupid. He was one of my best friends, and, because of his asthma, I could have killed him.
After our brief but intense scuffle, we broke apart and stood up, our fort already demolished from the fight. We stared each other down, both of us panting heavily, and, with his voice a bit raspy because of his asthma (or as I believed at the time, his pathetic attempt of faking it), he said, crying a bit, “If you don’t step out right now, I’m going to kick your ass.” Of course, now that I knew my strategy worked, I was brimming with self-confidence. I then stated the most arrogant words I have ever said in my life: “Bring it.” As he turned away (probably because he did not want to die), Will, ever the instigator, muttered to Brooks, “Your brother just beat the crap out of mine.” Despite the danger, Mike could not take this insult. He hurled himself at me, and we had another, shorter fight.
After all this, I was so distressed that I didn’t want to talk to anyone for a while. I took a long, hot shower, and locked myself in my room. Eventually I rejoined the group and just ignored Mike, but after some intensive videogame bonding time, we forgot our disagreement momentarily and began to talk as if it never happened. Soon we were outside riding our scooters, talking openly about what happened. Neither of us was mad at the other, and both of us understood that our initial anger was unnecessary. I hate remembering that morning, but ever time I do so, I realize how proud I am of my eight-year-old self and Mike for being able to put everything behind us so quickly.