For your information, tomorrow is National Keith Day. At such an important occasion, there is reason to celebrate, and we will do so. And before you ask, yes, there will be cake. Feel free to make one of your own, there are no prerequisites that you need to meet. Actually, any type of baked goods will suffice, feel free to be creative. In fact, just about any sort of food you want to add to the mix will be accepted.

Watch...after all of this, I'll be the only one bringing anything :P.

I just want you all to know, I have become a home designer. Check out this recreation room that I created. Yes, the room exists. It's just the contents that don't. :).

ANOTHER new blogger. Apparently I'm having a good influence on people, since they're obviously aspiring to be just like me :). Anyways, KathleenL this time...

http://kathleenlaird.blogspot.com (forgot to linkify).

Very creative, I know :). All the content on there so far is a introductory post, but feel free to stop in and say hi. I know that she'd appreciate it :).

Note1: This is my fiftieth post.

Note2: I updated my links on the left, but I probably missed someone. If so, leave me a note and I'll get on it.

Where am I going? I really couldn't tell you, but I know it's important. Everyone's life is important, you know. Sometimes, I think to myself, why don't old people just die? They're not doing anything anyways. Yeah, that's cruel. And I don't actually believe that, because you know, they're just as important as I am. Even though I have so much of my life ahead of me, and they have so little, they have a role in society, just like I do. They are the Makers of Garments, the Healers of Family Wounds. Seriously, they can give so much helpful encouragement and advice, because they've been through it all. Sometimes I think that they're not relevant to my life, but they are. People are the same on the inside, though we might act differently. We love, we hate, we cry, we yell, we flirt, we hurt, we praise, we criticize. People have been doing all of them since the Fall. And you know, I don't know how to react to those things. Maybe someone, out there, who I don't know, hates me. What if I meet him or her, and I realize that? What will I say to them? What can I say to them? I really, honestly, don't know. I will have to go through that, at some point in my life, I would expect, unless I become a hermit. I'll take all the advice I can get on that. How do I tell someone I don't love them? How do I tell someone I do love them(I won't be worrying about that quite yet :))? Whose shoulder can I cry on? How do I know if I've offended someone if they don't tell me? How can I tell someone that they're doing a good job without coming across as condescending? How can I tell someone what they're doing wrong without hurting them? I wish I could just, amalgamate all the memories and experiences that people have into one small package and put it in my brain. Maybe then I would know what I'm doing. Heh, you know, I do have a source for all the information I ever need, you know. I mean, I can talk to Him anytime I need some advice, and He'll give it. Wow, that's really cool.

I started my post meaning to talk about roles, but it didn't happen. That's OK, though, because it's still early :).

I have five minutes to write this post. It'd better be good.

I'm drinking Black Cherry Vanilla Coke at the moment. It tastes good, but it'll probably make me feel terrible in the morning. Drinking carbonated drinks just before bed does that to a person. Anyways, I'm going to posts some mysterious thoughts, but they will have a meaning, you just have to think really hard about them...

Sadness causes happiness.

Life is a cycle of variety within repetition.

Green socks are not attractive.

If you are unique, you are outside of the social hierarchy.

One minute is sixty seconds.

Even a fast typer would not be able to complete this post in sixty seconds.

Another blogger everyone :). Yeah, KathleenD decided to start a blog, and, after some very unhelpful template advice from me, has gotten it running with a sweet light blue look. Go check it out here:

http://kathleendunn.blogspot.com

It has some interesting content, specifically all her posts from her myspace blog, as well as a very confusing thought that looks cool. I think it means something, but I can't really tell...

On another note, I haven't blogged on anything spectacularly interesting for a while now. Tonight...

Since I now seem to be the official title giver, I give the title of Bejewled Queen to Rachel. Yeah, she had an incredible score of like...15000, and I had like...1000. So yeah....

The sounds around me faded away as I flew into a veritable gale of sensation. Chocolate, and chocolate. I was in chocolate heaven. Above me floated a rich, bown, chocolate cloud, and the ground was covered in a carpet of chocolate flowers, interspersed with small chocolate trees. In the distance, a dark chocolate mountain dusted in white chocolate sprinkles obscured a small portion of the light brown sky. A small drop of liquid splashed onto my upper lip, and, suprised, I sampled it with my tongue. My tastebuds were instantly overwhelmed by the most perfect chocolate milk I had ever tasted. Another drop hit my left arm, and I looked around for the source of them. Then I realized, the cloud was raining chocolate milk. Chocolate milk. FROM A CLOUD! I danced, overcome with bliss, and fell into the chocolate flowers. I sampled everything, from the dirt to the chocolate trees. All of them were unique, each wonderfully chocolately. It truly was a chocolate feast. In the distance, I heard a chocolate voice calling. Wait a minute...how can a voice be chocolate? My dream shattered. The cookies were gone, eaten, demolished, destroyed, devoured, vaporised, digested...I looked around. I was back at the bowling alley. I noticed several people looking at me funny. I smiled and licked the few crumbs off of my lips.

Brittni made those cookies. They were...well...heavenly :).

Brittni, I now pronounce you Cookie Queen. Go forth and make me more cookies.

Goodnight.

Note to self: Don't start reading a good book at midnight when you have blogging to do...

Anyways, I haven't blogged for two(three) days now, which is a new low for me(since I started blogging again). I've been doing fairly consistent daily(nightly) updates, but the last few days have been rather busy. So, I'm just going to give you all a brief recap of the last two days, and see what happens from there. I have to warn you though, my memory might be a little shaky.

Monday: The final concert of Corem Deo! Yeah, the concert was alright. Nothing to brag about, but nothing to be ashamed about either. To me, the choir just didn't seem...Passionate, or excited about what they were singing. It didn't have a lot of heart behind it. The reasons for that could be many, the one that comes to mind most quickly is the director, judging from various reports that I've heard. Who knows, though? Really, though, I can't say I came for the concert...At all. Yeah, social interaction is high on my list of priorities at the moment. I have a lot to learn about people, but above that, it's just tons of fun just being with your friends. Wow, learning and fun combined. A educator's dream come true. I think that school's should set a period, every day, just for hanging out with friends. Yeah, it won't happen, but it would be awesome. Even though I'm homeschooled...Wendy's was hilarious. I got a lot of free stuff that night...Hey, I didn't ask for any of it, it was offered. Except for Tineke's fries. And her M&Ms. And her frosty. And Rachel's iced cap. And Kathleen's frosty. And Andrea's frosty. Well, some of it was offered anyways. And I had to WORK for that free frosty. Which means it wasn't really free. W\e. Anyways, happy birthday to Sharlene, and thanks for the absolutely random hug...Yeah, thanks to the rest of you for your hugs too, but they weren't exactly random. Brittni, you really need to hang out with all of us cool people for a change :P. Oh, thanks to the Van Pelt family for giving me a ride. I would give you some sort of reward, but really, I have no idea what, so I'll just go with a public thank you. Thank you. KathleenD, stop hanging out with that guy!! :P. Rachel, your paper thingies were awesome. I still have them, so I'll probably put them on my wall sometime...By sometime, I mean tonight after this post. Well, Monday is over...

Tuesday: Hmm....Stayed at home, doing logic all day(Traditional Logic, yes, school). Played some sweet games with my grandparents from B.C.(they're going home tomorrow), made milkshakes, that didn't turn out as awesome as they could have. And Katie! I really need to talk to you. I'll probably send you an email...You probably don't even read my blog 8-)(rolling eye smiley). So yeah, we were playing spoons and UNO, and stuff, while drinking strawberry milkshakes, which reminds me that I need to go buy some fruit this week. Actually maybe not. I have to goto the bank anyways, since I need to get some money for bowling the weekend. Bringing up another subject, I'm planning on planning a party. You're all invited, if it happens. Except for people I don't know, that just randomly read my blog. Unless you feel like introducing yourself. Use the comment box or send me an email. Otherwise, well, you're not getting any of the details. If there is any details to send. We'll see what happens. Anyways, after the games, I...What did I do? Uhm...I must have done something between 9:30 and like, 11:30...I have no idea. Bleah. There goes two hours of my life 8-). Anyways, then I read this awesomeish book, and then I came down here, noticed it was like, 1:00, decided to post anyways, and then started writing.

So, I had this really weird daydream on Monday, while I was listening to the choir. Hmm....Maybe I'll do this in fiction form...Or not. Anyways, I was imagining I was part of the choir, and I was a tenor(the coolest part in a choir, obviously). So, I tried to reach this really high note, but then I went flat or something, and like, it was really loud. So then the choir director was like, yeah, you're totally not part of this choir anymore. And I was like, well, this was the first time I screwed up, give me a break. And then (s?)he was like, no, get out. So then I had to walk down this really massive aisle, carrying my folder, or something. Everyone was like, totally silent, and I had to walk out. Just...In front of everyone, and I didn't even have a ride home. (end story). The weird part about this whole thing is, it totally makes me really sad, for no reason. Like, even when I'm writing this, I'm getting all choked up. I'm probably going insane...

Interlude: In an attempt to take my crown of Checkers King away from me, I was challenged, by Vic, to a 2\3 checkers match. I accepted, and proceeded to quickly and decisively win the first game, giving me the one game advantage. The second game did not fare so well, as, in a series of unfortunate oversights and miscalculations, I let my opponent snatch the advantage away from me early on, and ultimately the game was against me. The third, and final game, proved to be the most interesting. Both sides were deadlocked early on, with only a few kills. Things opened up a bit, and then it went crazy. Advantages began to swing from side to side, but near the end, it appeared that Vic had the upper hand, with five kings against three. Keith took a blow when Vic forced him into a king exchange, making the odds four against two. A blunder by Vic, however, made the game more evenly matched, with three against two. In the final minutes of the game, things were looking grim for Keith, with both of his kings covered. However, with a brilliant tactical move, Keith sacrificed one of his kings, but turned that into a one-two kill. The game was even, one on one. Even the most hardened checkers player has to admit, king vs king games are extremely boring, and generally take up too much time for it to be worth it. Vic opened up the dealings with a proposal, and in the end, it was a draw game. The results of the negotiation are as follows: Vic and Keith are now co-Kings, with both having an equal share of the power. Challenges will be met by either party, and in case either party loses the challenge, the title will be given up by both.

End of interlude.

End of post.

We have another blogger on the scene. Introducing....

http://tinythecool.blogspot.com/

Most of you will know this new blogger by the name of Rachel, however, her pseudonym is Tiny. Not much content yet, but I encourage you all to go over there and say hi...

In other news, I AM going to the concert tomorrow. Yes, I am absolutely sure about this one. I'll see most of you there :).

And Andrea has just given me the title of Cake Making King....thanks Andrea :).

Since my first debut as Pancake King, I have recieved much honour and praise(as is due someone of my rank), and over the course of a few weeks, I have recieved a few more titles, which I have seen fit to share with all of you out there. They are only two in number, but here they are:

Corn Bread King
Checkers King.

If anyone feels like challenging my titles, feel free to step up, I have no fear of competition :). Oh, right, backstory...

Corn Bread King:

I made corn bread, presented it to my family, and was instantly awarded the title.

Checkers King:

I was playing checkers with Rachel over MSN, and after I won, I was given the title.

Yeah, not very long stories, sorry. I'm trying to converse and blog at the same time(yeah, that's you Kath :P), so if content is somewhat limited...well...it's not my fault :).

It's 4:30(P.M., yes, I'm not THAT crazy), and I totally am NOT in the mood for fiction. Yeah, you'll have to wait until tonight for that. Sorry :P.

I wish things would be clearer to me...

I wish I had a digital camera...

I wish I wasn't tired...

Yeah, so my life has been rather controversial as of a week ago. Once one person starts trusting you, everyone does. It scares me a bit...not that I mind per se, but it can be difficult sometimes.

Yes, that was left unclear for a reason...

I wish I could have the words to say what I want to say, or rather, what I need to say. I feel like I'm so inadequate for the "tasks" that I have been given...

Also unclear on purpose...

I realllyyy hope I can go to the concert tomorrow. Phil, if you're reading this, it would be awesome if you would take me. I'm pretty sure that...some people you know...are going.

My bed got stolen last night, by my brother, James. I was relegated to the couch, as usual. It's always the youngest that gets those kinds of priveledges....

I just yawned...

Again...

Yawning is so annoying, it makes my eyes water...

He he, Kath just told me a funny story...

No, ask her, I'm not going to put it on here...

I'm done, I can't think of anything else...

Well, it's only 11 and I am totally dead...Probably a result of making, filling, frosting, and topping a cake, as well as carrying out all the menial tasks that fall to the young. Yeah, it was my Mom's birthday, and we had a party. Even though I missed half of it...But that was O.K., because I was at this cool Praise and Worship evening at Sheffield URC, hanging out with all my cool friends :). Ok, just some of them, but w\e. Anyways, I got another nametag added to my collection, even though it's a duplicate. Pictures will be at the end of the post, as well as some awesome pictures of my amazing cake. Prety sure I was going to say something else, but I can't remember, so I'm just going to end my post now...By the way, getting a (personal) email makes me feel loved, so feel free...Unless you don't love me. In which case, I'll just...not get any emails from you.

Pictures:

Nametags:



Cake pic 1:



Cake pic 2:



Cake pic 3:

Really, really, have to get some sleep, but I have a quick question for all of you: What kind of cake would you recommend for a birthday party? Yeah, I'm making cake for my Mom's b-day, but I don't know which kind. Suggestions would be awesome :). Thanks.

P.S. Links would be even better :P.

This post is not going to be about anything in particular. Enjoy.

So, I had the most intense evening I have had in my entire life. I had four conversations going about some very serious issues, lasting upwards of two hours. I am entirely drained. I have a hate\love relationship with MSN. On one hand, it's an excellent way to keep in touch with all your friends, and to have conversations which would otherwise not take place. On the other hand, really, talking to four people at once gets rather tiresome. I can only type so fast... I really don't regret any of the conversations, at all. In fact, I would be far worse off if I had not had them. All I mean to say is, it gets tiring. Nothing more. I do NOT want you to stop talking to me on MSN...

Now that that is dealt with...

I've found myself praying a lot more often lately. I have so many things that need dealing with right now, it's too intense for just me. It's been weighing me down, and my family has started to notice, and I get some questions I'd rather not answer. So, I continually have to talk to God, to get some of that burden off, to ask Him to help out. While the results aren't instantaneous, I am probably a lot less stressed out that I could be. I just hope that it stays that way, I'm tired and worried enough as is. Well, nothing to be done about it, just to trust that God will help, and it will be O.K. in the end. It's so comforting just to think that everything that happens is in God's control, and nothing will happen to me if it isn't in His will. I mean, I might have temporal pain, but I know that God is using that pain to make me stronger. All I can ask is that God uses me as a powerful tool in His name. I am willing, Lord.

I really have no idea how I survived without this blog. It really clears my mind and helps me to focus when I write my thoughts and feelings down. Comments are amazing too...Constructive criticism, my favourite :).

Fiction time! I promise it's not going to be sad, at least, not if I can help it.

The young boy, about twelve years old, stood at the top of a very long, winding staircase. He was looking behind him, looking at all the places he had been, just to get to this point. There were the sharp, stabbing thorns that had marked his early troubles. That indestructible wall, so impossible to climb. Yet somehow, somehow, he had conquered, and here he was. At the staircase. Why the staircase? He didn't know, and he probably wouldn't find out. He just knew that he had come up here, and that he must go down. He could only see up to what he figured was the middle of the staircase, but that didn't matter. He had no idea where he was going, but he knew that he just had to follow. What he needed to follow, he didn't know either. He just trusted, and it was enough. He set his foot down on the first staircase.

Meh, kind of boring, so I stopped it there. It was a good place to stop anyways. I'll do something different now.

Images were flashing through his mind, thoughts that would never be expressed, memories that would never be retold. His mind was foggily trying to grasp what was going on. He couldn't see, until he remember his eyes were shut, and opened them. Immediately, the pain of the intense light made him snap his eyes shut again. Why did his eyes hurt? He very gently tried to open them again, getting just barely half-way before the pain struck again. Then he remembered. He had been struck on the head, and stuffed into a box. They had kept him there for what seemed like years. It had been very dark in that box. Dark and cramped. He tried stretching his legs, and found that any small motion hurt as well. It would take some time before he would be able to move his legs properly again. Hour upon hour, he lay there, slowly adjusting his eyes, and flexing his legs. Exhaustion hit him, and he fell asleep. When he awoke again, his lips were slightly dry, but he ignored that for now, focusing on the important task of opening his eyes. It was a few hours before he finally was able to open them completely. He looked around. The room was white. Totally white. Nothing but white. The walls, the ceiling, the floor. The light source was a pair of white fluorescent tubes, exactly positioned in the center of the ceiling. It was completely bare in that square room, devoid of any furnishing. And totally silent. He was getting a little bit scared. He looked for a doorway, but saw none. There was no windows, no doors, no holes at all. Utterly blank. He forced himself to stretch his legs some more. They had stopped hurting. He cautiously rose to his feet, and the pain hit him once again. He tried to ignore it, but once he rose to full height, he immediately fell again. He tried again, the time managing to stagger to a wall before his legs gave out again. He was getting thirsty. The room was still completely bare. No water, no food, nothing. He got up again, a sense of fear beginning to creep through his body. Pushing that sense aside, he began to work his legs more and more. Eventually, he reached to point of exhaustion yet again, and slept. He woke up in a few hours. Nothing had changed. He was even more thirsty. He rose, his legs now functioning properly. He began to examine his surroundings closely, banging on the walls with his fist, trying to find some sort of opening. There was none to be found. His thirst was getting intense now, and he was getting desperate. He ran to one of the walls and slammed into it with his full force. He fell to the floor. He tried again, harder and harder. Nothing. His efforts were just making his thirst build more and more. He clawed at those white wall, shouting out for help. There was no answer, and his tongue seemed to be made of dust. He hurled himself at the ceiling, trying to reach those fluorescent lights, but to no avail, they were to high. He started screaming, screaming, screaming, until he could not scream any longer. He began kicking to walls, not caring about the blood that was beginning to stream out from his feet. His voice was hoarse and rasping, and could not reach beyond the volume level of a mouse. His fingers curled around his clothes, grasping at anything they could reach. He fell to the floor, and knew he was dying. He began to cry, but no liquid came out. His sobs barely reached his own ears. Suddenly, in front of him, a beautiful girl appeared, hold a huge jug of water. She smiled at him, and he dived for the water. It vanished before he could reach it. There, in the corner, there it was. He ran madly, reaching out, grasping only air. His eyes were swarming with black dots. He fell forward, his face hitting the floor, and darkness overtook him.

Everyone, we have a new blogger on the scene. Well, half new, he was using blogster before(goto http://victord.blogster.com if you want to read his old posts). Some of you may have met him at AOC, if not, well, he's a really cool guy. Anyways, you should probably read his blog, because he has an amazing post on there right now about his previous life experiences and what he's learned over the years. You can find it at:

http://www.negativeimpulses.blogspot.com/

I'll be posting something more substantial later, don't worry :). I am again full of things I need to say...

Well, I am at a total loss for words tonight, something very strange considering the time. I can't think, I can't talk, and I can't write. Very abnormal. I spent two hours writing a two (short) paragraph email, and am still rather unsatified with it. *sigh*. I'm in a mixed mood again. I think I should sleep. Goodnight. Even though you'll be reading this when you wake up.

I've been feeling rather restless lately...

Well, I''m in the mood to write, as is usual at this time of night, though I'm not in my room, which is not cool, because it's down in the basement, kind of my own little sanctuary, and it's totally quiet and peaceful down there, and I can think and nothing can disturb me. Up here, well, you have people going to the bathroom, getting food, the dog on the prowl, the fighting things going, random talking in the background....But w\e, I need to blog again. Probably going to write another short story, probably dedicated to someone who will know it when they read it. So, yeah, I've pretty much been really happy lately. So many people are so encouraging, and it makes me very happy to know that even my flaws are accepted. But tonight, I'm in a mixed mood, for reasons that I won't go into.

BTW, my MSN name("Not tired.') is now a lie, because I am tired. Tired = creative. For those of you who missed the sequence, it went something like this.

Really tired, so I'm sleeping.

Still tired, but not sleeping.

Not tired.

Nothing spectacularly interesting, or witty, but nevertheless, it's good that have background information.

Ingormation is a funny word. Mostly because I made it up. It means:

Knowledge about fine foods.

That was rather random. I'm in a seriously random mood tonight. It's amusing me.

My dog is snoring from the hallway. Rather unpleasant.

AAAnnnnwwaaayyssss...

This post has stretched on far enough, so I'll just end it with a story. Prepare to be saddened.

It was a warm summer day, and the city was bustling with commerce and trade. People going, people going, sales, purchases, a normal day in the life of a normal city. A merchant outside of city hall was shouting out advertisements for his "tangy lemonade," while beyond that a hot dog vendor served out a bun filled with a juicy sausage. The birds were singing happily, flitting about and around a nearby hospital, landing on the many window ledges, and trilling out their joyful songs. One bird landed just outside a hospital ward, disregarding the collection of people inside. Their appearances were rather contrary to the beautiful day outside. A teenage girl was holding her brother's hand tightly, and both of them we're looking at the plain white bed, containing a woman that they held dear. Her face was a deathly grey colour, her eyes looking dreamily up at the ceiling, her mouth mumbling incoherent words. The soft beeping of the hospital equipment seemed to be beeping out the remaining moments of the woman's life. Every beep meant that there was one less before the end. The girl buried her face in her brother's chest, the shuddering body drawing comfort from the closeness of one that she loved. The boy, no older than sixteen, was holding her tightly, now, both sensing that the end was drawing closer and closer. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep..........Beeeeeeeeep. The girl let out an involuntary sob, and turned to look at the one which had held so much love, and saw only death. The room was totally quiet as the presiding doctor looked at his watch, and called it. Everything that could be tried had already been tried. It was over. The room slowly began to empty of people. Gentle voices floated through the haze of tears, comforting words that could never help, sympathy that would never ring true. The pain of the loss was like ice and fire, stabbed through the center of the heart. Was it possible for life to go on, was it possible for time to go on? She didn't care, and neither did he. They just stood there, each drawing support from the other's arms. The room was totally empty now, totally silent, except for that bird outside the window sill, singing out it's song of joy for all who cared to listen. There would be no joy inside that room.

Death is not a statistic.

"I'm here, and God's up there, and that's all that really matters."

- Ryan

"There is joy in obedience."

- Mrs. Goheen

"I knew about 5 people coming in, and now I know about 85."

- Victor

"..Kathleen Brink..."

- Kathleen

"Do you want a hug?"

- Other Kathleen

"I want a hug too."

- Sarah

Thank you all for your encouragement, for your inspiration, for your humour, for your acceptance, for your love, for your laughter, for your conversation, and for your faith in God.

Bleah, I have 1350 minutes, or 22.5 hours of music that I have to sort out into categories...fun stuff. On a brighter note, I'll be able to quickly find some music for any movies that I make from now on...gah, this is going to take all night....

Well, I know it's only been like, an hour since I last posted, and yes, I realize it's one 'o clock, but I really want to write some more. Not sure about what yet, and I may be somewhat strange at this hour, but bear with me.

I often wonder why sadness is an inspiring topic for me(see last post). I mean, it's not like I'm sad all the time, and thus strikes a chord in me. I would be better off writing about something like fear then, because fear is something I deal with a lot. Maybe I will, later on in this post. No promises. I guess maybe I'm trying to explore something I personally have not had a whole lot of experience with. My life has been pretty happy :). Wow, my grandparents just arrived and it is now two 'o clock, so if I am somewhat shaky in my logic, well, that's why. But, I want to finish this post anyways...You know, all the time I hear things about people who are going through things I can only imagine the horror of, and I think, why is my life so easy? I mean, I have friends everywhere I go, I have a good relationship with my family, my health is good, and I am moderately intelligent and good-looking :). Ok, I'm just guessing with those last two. I can't help but think that there will be some big fallout somewhere along the line, something absolutely terrible is going to happen to me. It's definitely not a good feeling, and my reason defies my instinct, telling me that I can't possibly know what will happen in advance. Well, I guess there's not really anything that I can do about it anyways, so I really don't worry about it a whole lot. My personal way of dealing with things is to take it one step at a time, and so far, it seems to work brilliantly. Someone more insightful than I once said, "A journey of a thousand miles starts with a single step," and he or she was absolutely right. If you're in a crisis situation, the first thing to do is to deal with the urgent, then the serious, followed by the medium priority details, and lastly with the minor. I also have the ability not to let things in life affect me at all. I don't really feel depressed a whole lot, actually, I don't ever feel depressed. Maybe I'm lying to myself, but I'm just writing what I feel. I'm satisfied with my life...Ugh, this is all not making sense anymore, soooooo.....I'm just going to finish this off with another of my works of fiction...

"I wish he would stop talking with us." The dark-haired teenager grimaced as he watched a tall figure walk away from the group.

"Yeah, I know. He's so retarded." Tossing his hair back, Andrew gestured angrily at the guy walking away.

"Tom needs to go back to a special school," joined in a third person. The group laughed. Their laughter suddenly died as they noticed that Tom was heading back for the group.

"Gah, he's coming back again," the dark-haired one said.

"He probably has another of his corny jokes for us again," smirked the only girl in the group.

Tom ascended the few steps to where to group was standing.

"Hey guys, I forgot to tell you, I left mustard in my motorcycle helmet the other day." Tom laughed uproariously, while a few in the group chuckled uncomfortably.

"Well, I guess I'll see you all later. Watch out for that mustard!" Tom descended again, still laughing at his own joke.

"See, what did I tell you," the girl said.

"I think we all knew what he was going to do," said a guy with a red shirt.

"Man, I hate that kid," said the dark-haired guy. The rest of the group all nodded or verbalized their agreement.

The group dispersed.

*end of story*

This is sadly not as much a work of fiction as I would like it to be. I see it all too often, and it makes me angry, and afraid at the same time. It makes me angry, because Tom left, none the wiser that the more he talked, the more people disliked him, and nobody seems to want to take the trouble to educate Tom. Tom could be a cool guy, he just doesn't understand the difference between good jokes and bad jokes. Therefore, he gets called "retarded", cast out from ever being a part of "the group". That's harsh, because no one should only have one chance. If you ever encounter someone like Tom, please, tell him what he's doing wrong, because Tom has no idea. If he refuses to correct his behaviour after your talk, then perhaps you have a valid case for not wanting to socialize with him. But talking behind someone's back only serves to hurt and tear apart, not only Tom, but others as well, as I will show now.

It makes me afraid because I do not know if the same thing happens to me. When I leave, do people say, "Man, I hate that kid"? How will I ever know? How can I ever trust someone who participates in those kind of "group bashing sessions"? Maybe, I'm not really funny, but people kind of still half-laugh at my jokes just to make me feel better, and after I'm gone criticize me. It terrifies me, it truly does, and it destroys my trust in people. When I watch people, I can see what their reaction is to what I say, fairly clearly. It's one of my few talents, and though I see mostly good things, with certain people, who pretend to enjoy my company, I can see, almost perfectly, that they're thinking, "this guy is an idiot"(you'll be happy to know I no longer associate with those people). I can't get over what I saw in their eyes. It drains my confidence, and I can't perform without confidence.

Well, I'm done. If this made no sense at all, I'm sorry, it's now 2:40, way past the time regular human beings sleep. Though, this music IS very good. Anyways, I'm out...

It seems that yet again I have been foolish...But none of that matters anymore. The matter has been corrected(I hope anyways :)), and life resumes it's normal course. I could go on living like this forever...Except I can't. Pity.

I really feel like writing some fiction, I'm kind of in the mood. Let me see if I can get done before my grandparents from B.C. arrive. On a sort of unrelated note: I love nighttime...It's so peaceful, and quiet. It gives me some room to just...Think about the day, what I did right, what I did wrong, and write cool blog posts like this one. I love this blog....I don't know how I survived without a place to express myself. Anyways, back to the fiction(note: I have no idea where this story is going, or what it's about. Any correlation between this story and reality is purely coincidental).

A crisp, biting wind rustled through the carpet of fallen leaves, stirring them up in swirling patterns that no man could match. The whistle of the wind was broken only by the occasional cracking branch that a small animal accidentally stepped upon, on its way to a warm and safe location. It was into this haven of nature, with a soft step and graceful movement that would have been suitable for a princess, that she entered. She was like the queen of the woods, her dark green dress complimenting the brown and red colours surrounding her, her gentle footfalls barely stirring the dead branches and leaves, her hands brushing against the tall trees, and lightly running through some nearby bushes. It was like a shockwave then, when a sob escaped her delicate lips, the sound seemingly growing and echoing through the lonely forest. Her dark brown eyes were unfocused, remembering the horrible events that had just occurred. It could not be real, she refused to believe it. A tragedy beyond thought, a disaster that could never be fully described. How could death come so quickly and cruelly, snatching away the one that she loved so dearly. They were going to be married, tomorrow, at seven 'o clock. The invitations had been sent, all the guests were expected. How could she face the world, how could she even face her own reflection? She fell to her knees beside a small pool of stagnant water, the tears coming freely now, running down her cheeks and mixing with the liquid beneath her. She remembered his face, the vivid image flashing through her mind, faster than words could ever express. All the joy that was bound inside of the memories was quickly changing into grief, and it would never be able to revert back. The emotion was building inside of her, boiling up, and flowing out into that pool of water. That water, so unsympathetic, so heartless, just like the single bullet that had taken his life away, just like the killer behind the gun, driven mad by his loneliness. There would be no justice. His blood, which had come forth so easily, had been indistinguishable from the blood of the murderer. How could she go on? There was nothing to look forward to, nothing but the looks of pity, the hundreds of reporters flocking to news like a bunch of seagulls to French fries, the words of comfort that held none. She stayed there, even while the wind howled around her, leaves flying against that anguished face, and continuing on, in patterns of indescribable complexity.

Well that was depressing...

The previous post had been removed due to unforseen interpretations. Those who know, know, otherwise, it's better left unknown.