I'm sitting here in my room. It's very dark in here. It kind of reminds me when I would sneak Grace into my house and we would read her old poetry and feel alive. The sad thing is, I don't really miss Grace that much. I don't know. I just don't need to feel horrible when I'm with her right now.

I had the most awful dream last night. It was about this girl named Lindsay, who was in my drama class last year. We did an acting scene together called "DMV Tyrant" by Christopher Durang. I remember in the beginning of the school year I looked at her and wondered how awesome it would be if we got to talking. And we did. And we were good friends. Later on in the year, however, she started wearing make up and started wearing this hat and started paying attention to what was de rigueur. This really depressed me.

Anyway, the dream was about her coming back to see me. I forgot to mention that she moved to Texas this summer without me knowing. So in the dream she was wearing this white shirt and these red pants that she always wears and she didn't have her hat on, so I could see her pretty brown hair. And all the while she kept on telling me how she missed me and how she wished she was here to see me, so she came to visit me for the weekend. And for some reason I just hugged her, and I looked into her eyes and I felt this sort of attraction between the two of us. And I think we were really into each other. And all throughout the rest of the dream I kept smiling and I kept putting my arm around her, and I kept thinking how I wanted to kiss her. And right when the dream ended, I looked at her and we started making out. And then I woke up.

And throughout this dream I was very happy. And when I woke up I was very depressed, because I realized I really liked Lindsay, and I never told her. And she moved away.

I honestly don't know what to do about things like this. On a side note, it's my grandmother's birthday today, and I forgot to get her a card. I'm going to give her a hug and a kiss on the cheek when she gets back though. Hopefully that will be enough.

cya.

-george

Things are going mediocre.

Mediocre is a vocabulary word I learned when I was in sixth grade. My uncle used to make me learn vocab words, and for every word I learned, he'd give me a dollar. But eventually, I lost to him in a bunch of card games, so I ended up owing him fifty words. So when the time came around that he was going to come over to see if I learned them or not, I started studying like a maniac. And by studying like a maniac I mean cramming fifty words into my head in one day. Now for a sixth grader, that's no easy task. So what I did was, I started learning the words subconsciously. I would look at the word and its definition, and I would let it sit in my head for a while.

This didn't work out too well.

What ended up happening was that I would memorize these words, but I didn't memorize the word persay. I memorized the number that corresponded to it on the list. See, the words were on flashcards, and the flashcards were numbered 1-50. So when he started quizzing me, I would ask for the number instead of the word, and I got them all right. It kind of frightened him that I could memorize definitions by number and not by word, so he made me do it by the word. I ended up not knowing a lot of them, and he ended up just laughing at me about it. I hope all of this has made sense.

Last Saturday me and Kevin (who went with me to the Saves the Day concert) went out to a movie with Corinna and her boyfriend. I used to like Corinna a lot, but I ended up ruining it by being too emotional. We started talking again recently, and it's very nice, except that she has a boyfriend and it's kind of awkward for the both of us.

Before the movie however, we wanted to go to Borders, so we ended up looking through the CD selection there, and Kevin kept on flipping through a lot of old CD's. The Who, The Rolling Stones, The Pixies, The Smiths, and so on. I think it's funny that I wear a Pixies shirt and a Smiths shirt even though I don't know very many of their songs. And this kid at school always says I'm awesome and always points to me as if "I rock" because I listen to these bands.

Anyway, I saw Kate at borders at the magazine section, but I didn't say anything because I think she was with her boyfriend. I thought her boyfriend was my friend Rob for a second, and I was about to go say hello, but I didn't because I saw his face. And I pointed out to Kevin that that was Kate and that I thought she was very pretty. And that was that.

So at the movies, we were waiting around for Corinna, and I started smoking a cigarette. This wasn't good timing on my part. Her dad pulled up right when I was smoking it, and Corinna got angry at me, and said not to stand around her because her dad would get mad at her. I thought she was really mad at me, even though she wasn't. She told me she was just nervous later on.

When we were about to sit down, Corinna sat down with her boyfriend on the edge seats, and kept giving me this awkward look that I couldn't quite decipher. I kept thinking that she didn't want me to sit down with her, so me and Kevin just went and sat down across the theatre. Later on she told me that she didn't understand why we did that because she wanted to go see the movie with us. I told her that I thought she didn't want us to sit next to her because her boyfriend was there, and she said that was silly. I don't know. I think I'm just paranoid about the whole thing. I honestly wasn't in the mood to see them making out during the movie anyway.

In history class today our teacher gave us a long lecture about Thomas Jefferson and Alexander Hamilton. I don't really get history, but I suppose I understand why we have to learn it, even though we always "repeat history". And there was this boy named Chris (who always seems very intelligent, as if he watches the disney channel) who was saying all these controversial things about the entire time period we were talking about, and I started thinking how he reminded me of one of those professors in a history documentary, and how Chris should have been smoking a pipe and playing a chess game or something.

And during all this time I was looking over at this girl named Jenna and she looked like she knew exactly what I was thinking.

cya.

-george

The best thing about concerts is that they can always cheer you up after a depressingly hard week. There's just something about being in the crowd, sharing liters of other people's sweat that can make you happy.

I went to the Taking Back Sunday/Saves the Day concert last night in San Francisco. I didn't really care for Taking Back Sunday very much, or the band that opened for them (They were called Moneen, which me and Kevin made fun of), but Saves the Day was just amazing.

The night started off with me being a little upset because my friends Christen and Kevin (who I've known forever) were not able to go, due to their parents. Sometimes, I just feel like we're all little kids because we still listen are forced to do what someone else tells us. I don't know. Maybe being a kid isn't so bad. Anyway, I was upset over all of this, and I wasn't in the greatest mood, but my other friend Kevin (a different one) was able to come, so that was good. The other Kevin and Christen said they would pay me back, but I feel awkward taking their money because they didn't get to go.

So me and Kevin were forced to sit in the second to last row of the balcony, which depressed me greatly, because it was the first concert that I've never gotten to be on the floor for. So when Moneen was opening for the two bands, I just got kind of bored, so Kevin and I went downstairs to get some merchandise. The line ended up being a ridiculously long line which stretched to the entrance of the place, but we stayed anyway, because we were just waiting for Saves to Day to play.

So after I bought my shirt, I put it on, and we walked around the hall until Taking Back Sunday went up. I wasn't looking forward to that much either, but it was better than nothing. In the middle of all of this, I met up with Corinna, who I haven't seen in a very long time, and her friends. They also had balcony seats, but they found a couple of guys with tickets for the floor. Corinna came up with this really amazing plan, which consisted of two people walking in with the two ticket stubs, and one person walking back out with both of them in hand. That person would then grab another person and go in with them. We repeated this process until everyone was on the floor.

For some reason, I have the most amazing luck with concerts. I think I'll never be stuck watching a concert on the balcony. I honestly hate "sit-down" concerts.

Taking Back Sunday started playing, so I dragged Kevin up to the front with me. I wanted to go back and find Corinna and her friends and drag them up with us too, but I assumed that they were already doing the same thing. I ended up having a ball. Even though I couldn't really get into Taking Back Sunday's music, the crowd was really nice. And when the crowd is excited and nice and hyper, the concert is just that much better. I wish I knew some of the words to their songs though.

Inbetween sets Kevin and I went to buy some water and rest for a while, as we were both pretty tired. Honestly, the concert had the most densely packed crowd I've ever seen, making it so you'd get drenched with twice amount the sweat than usual. It was nice. The water was $2.75 for a bottle though.

When Saves the Day started playing, I just stood there in the middle of the crowd, looking at the lead singer, just staring in awe. He has sort of blonde short hair, and had these excellent "nerdy" glasses, and wore an orange shirt. He looked sort of holy. And listening to him sing live was just wonderful. And he kept doing this thing with his hands like he was praying, which was cute, and made me want to start doing it.

And since everyone knew the words to all their songs, it was just an amazing time. I think I smiled throughout the entire set, because I was having such a good time.

During the final song (not including the encore), I ended up crowd-surfing a couple times, and I got kicked out. While I was being dragged through the crowd by security, two girls looked at me, smiled, and said, "He went up like five times," and I just kind of laughed and smiled at them and gave them the "rock-on" sign with my hand.

As I was waiting for the concert to end and for Kevin and everyone to come out, I walked to 7-11 and picked up a bottle of water. This has kind of become a tradition for me, as I'm always so exhausted after concerts. And then I kind of sat down on the street, against this garage door, and listened to a man play his saxophone. I really felt infinite, smoking a cigarette, drinking a nice bottle of water, and listening to jazz, knowing that I just had an amazing night. I took off my Saves the Day shirt I bought, and looked at it, noticing that it was soaking wet, so wet in fact, that it started to become fuzzy. I think I'll save this shirt for the next time I see Teresa, not washing it might I add. I think she would have had the most wonderful and lovely time, even though she doesn’t listen to Saves the day anymore. That was an awful attempt to be cute.

The subway ride home was nice. While we were waiting for the train to arrive, there was this warm breeze filling the station, which felt really wonderful. And while we were standing behind the yellow line, I saw this girl who was very pretty around the age of nineteen sitting there looking depressed. I wanted to ask how she was doing and if she went to the concert or not, but I was afraid she'd give me a mean response. Not mean actually, more like some sort of ennui, if you know what I mean.

On the train there were some obnoxious people maybe in their mid twenties who yelling really loud, and just talking about the most horrible things. I don't like it when drunk people are rude. I think drunk people should just keep to themselves without bothering anyone. Well, it's okay if you're with your friends I mean. And I kept looking over at these goth girls who were dressed all in black, and I wanted to ask them if they went to the concert too, because they looked dressed for the occasion. And one of the girls kept looking over at me and then at the drunk people, and kind of gave me the eye that meant, "Do you want something, buddy?" and I kind of turned away. And she looked very depressed, but I didn't care because I was still smiling. And I noticed she had kind of a big stomach, and I wondered if she was pregnant or not.

I ended up getting home around one o' clock in the morning, but I didn't really mind. I had to wake up today around seven though because I had to take the PSATS at school today, which weren't really all that hard, but they weren't that easy either. I think near the end of the test I just started to give up, and I didn't pay attention to any of the questions. I'm horrible at reading comphrension. On a side note, I filled in "Buddhism" for religion, which I think Teresa would find adorable.

Last Wednesday was my Drama class's play. There are two advanced drama class this year, and one play production class, which is the most advanced level class you can take. So the three classes did a set of one acts, with our class doing one, the other advanced class doing two, and the play productions class doing three. We spread out the one acts, so that the advanced classes would do theirs one night, and the play production class who do theirs one night.

Our class had the longest one act, since we only did one play. Honestly, we had the most horrible script. "If these walls could talk". I ended up getting this part where the character doesn't wear shoes. I couldn't get into him at all, so I looked for the movie to see what I should do, but the movie didn't end up being like the play at all. There were a lot of lesbian kissing scenes.

But all in all, although our play was the worst of the three, the night went really well. A lot of kids in play pro (that's what we call it) really commended me on a good job, and told me I made our play pretty funny, which made me happy. And while I was sitting there in my stagecrafts class which is paired with play pro, I told them they all did a wonderful job in their plays too.

And honestly, I really wish I can become good enough to be in play pro next year, because it seems really fun.

I need to work on my book, so it can get published. I've been really lazy filling out these forms. They're just so horrible.

cya.

-george

Last night felt like a horribly bad dream.

It started off with me being at my parent's restaurant again to help out. It's very depressing to know that whenever I want to stop helping out, they will send me on a guilt trip, and I will never get out of there. I had a very bad headache, and people kept on coming in, not to eat, but to work, and I was wondering why the hell there were eight people in the front, when there should only be three. And there was this new girl working there who looked like she could be either twenty one or thirty nine, and my dad kept on saying she was Spanish, but she wasn't. And I kept on looking at Jessica as if I wanted to say something to her, but I really had nothing to say. All of this was very unsettling because I kind of wanted to go to homecoming, but I didn't really have anyone to ask, and I just used helping out as an excuse for not going.

So a couple hours after being there (it only felt like five minutes because it really did feel like a bad dream), I just left. Looking back on it, I must have seemed really obnoxious. When the new girl asked me if I liked working there, I said it "sucked", and when she asked me what I like to do in my spare time, I didn't really have anything to say. I don't like when people ask me that because I can never really say anything.

I went to the arcade after this, to meet up my friends Sean and Eric. They were there to hit on a couple of twelve year olds they met online. They're eighteen, mind you, but I think that was part of the joke. I doubt they really cared if they were there or not.

And after a while, these thirteen year old girls walked in with their thirteen year old friends they all had crushes on, half of them stoned, half of them drunk. I was wondering if they were faking any of it, but Eric was telling me how he once saw their eyes very dialated, and I believed him. Also, there was this one boy who smelled strongly of vodka, but he told us it was beer, and we gave him a lecture on how beer is horrible because it takes so much of it to get you drunk. Plus the fact that it tastes awful, but then again, all alcohol tastes awful.

I kept walking outside because I felt very stressed that these thirteen year olds only talked about sex with Sean and Eric and kept on telling them they were hot. They said I wasn't but they were only joking. I don't know why I mentioned that, because I'm sure a lot of people find me attractive. What am I talking about? I don't know. I took a nap in the afternoon which gave me a headache, and I'm still very light-headed. And this pizza I just heated up in the microwave is sitting here, getting cold.

Anyway, I kept on walking outside wanting to have a cigarette, but I was afraid that Sean and Eric would see me smoking, so I just stood outside for a few minutes at a time and then I would walk back in again. And I kept saying it felt like a bad dream to them, but no one was really listening to me, and I just kept listening to them talking about sex. And I didn't understand what was wrong with them. I think it was because Sean and Eric thought that one of them was cute, and they wanted to "get some". I forgot to mention that they told us they were fifteen, when they were really thirteen. We learned this later from the boy who smelled like vodka, and it made a lot of sense.

So later on, I finally broke down and went to my car to have a cigarette and all of a sudden I saw Sean knocking on my window telling me not to go home. And I said I wasn't, and he said I should walk to his car and have a cigarette with him, which kind of made me happy because I didn't know he started smoking. So we were standing there smoking cigarettes for a few minutes, and out of nowhere we saw Eric walk out of the arcade smoking a cigar. And we all laughed because we all walked out of there to secretly have a smoke.

After we were done smoking, we went to my car, and I played Mars Volta for one of the girls, who was really skinny and kind of looked like a boy in a way, and she was having a magnificent time playing around with the buttons in my car. It was kind of peaceful until the corpulent white girl and the colored girl who Eric thought was "hot" said that the skinny girl just wanted to "get some dick" from me. And I got very upset, and asked them why they were talking like that. And they kept saying "whatever" and eventually left. And I closed the door and started talking to this skinny girl, and I grew very bored because I didn't really know what to talk about, and when I did talk, all it was was random things having to do with me being tired.

And after all of this, I just went home.

I was looking at my grandmother just now and I was thinking about how Teresa was telling me about how her grandmother recently died, and that she was leaving for a few days to go to her funeral. And she was telling me how she was feeling very awkward and out of place and lightheaded since her grandmother died. She told me she didn't know why, but I understood. I think I was like that when my grandfather passed away. Anyway, it just made me think of how my grandmother is getting very old and sick, and all she does is watch TV all day and ask me if I'm hungry, and it's just very depressing. She must be very bored, doing all of this and only looking forward to death. No, that was just awful.

A few nights ago my friend Rob Love came over. Jessica thinks he's very cute, if I haven't told you yet. Anyway, he brought the movie "Hercules in New York" which is Arnold Schwarzenegger's first movie. It was really corny, and we kept laughing when we were watching it. After it was done, Rob stayed over for a few hours more because he didn't really have anything to do, and I asked if he was ever going to leave, and he asked me if I had anything to do myself, and I really didn't. And I kept making jokes about him because he was picking at his face and eventually he started bleeding, and he had to run to the bathroom to get some tissue. And I kept laughing and making jokes that my mom was going to come home and wonder why this white kid wearing a hat was bleeding all over the place, and why she was "knee deep in blood". And then Rob started playing at my guitar and it was sort of peaceful.

And whenever I think about money to buy some albums, it always depresses me because I'm growing very lazy over the book I'm publishing, and how I'm supposed to be very enthusiastic about it, but I'm not. I don't know how I'm going to live as a writer when I'm older. I just don't know. I hope that made sense.

And sometimes I wish I had some friends to drive with late at night with the wind hitting our faces and listening to music that we only like because it makes us feel inifinite. And last summer I had friends like that. Blaise and Grace. And it makes me very sad because I don't talk to them anymore, and I really do miss them.

cya.

-george

I wish I had started learning about the beauty and elegance of language a long time ago.

Only recently have I stopped being such a maudlin person. I would always cry and cry over the most unnecessary things, and most of the time I didn't even know what I was crying over. A lot of people would say I lost a lot of charm, which I really wish I had more of. Then I could be more gregarious like the popular kids in school. I don't really care about popularity, I just wanted to say gregarious.

I've also noticed that I've been living with Teresa all this time. Even though I can't physically have her right now, I'll have her one of these days. But I've been vicariously living with her, always thinking about what life would be like with her in the future. I don't know. It's pretty depressing.

Another thing is that Grace is such an egoist. I wouldn't say that I'm altruistic, but I'm definitely not as egoistic as her. She's also a wanton and maudlin girl, which is very depressing. I think someone should take her to a psychiatrist or something.

I'm trying to achieve a state of sublimation. I've been lacking behind in school, and all this cigarette smoking is just depressing me. I don't know why I want to go to college, but I think it'd be nice if I got good grades anyway. Tomorrow I'm going to ask Mister Rice to help me with my essay.

cya.

-george

Tonight was very stressful. I've come to believe that holding back tears can be one of the hardest things someone can do.

My mom finally told my dad that next weekend was the last weekend I was going to work for him. And this upset him. He was yelling at me throughout the entire time I was at the restaurant, in front of everyone. I think he stopped caring that we were in public, and that it might even make me more nervous. He told me that if I didn't come after next weekend, he would stop talking to me, and kick me out of the house when I'm eighteen.

However, this didn't really phase me much. I don't think my dad realizes that it's been maybe over ten years since I've actually tried to initiate a conversation with him. He's always the one that starts talking first. I suppose after his gambling problem and my memory of him being an awful, selfish person sunk into my head, and I never really considered him much of a father. He was telling me how hard he tries to be the best father he can be, but in his eyes, that just means making money. I don't think he understands that our family would be very happy if we were poor, and that we were just at peace with everything. He needs to calm down sometimes.

And after I was being yelled at, I was kind of sensitive, and whenever I'm "kind of sensitive", I always think about depressing things. I started thinking about my English teacher Mr. Rice and how he seems very happy, and how I want what he has. He teaches English and lives with his wife and sells honey for a living. He just seems very peaceful, and seems to have found what he wanted in life. I started to imagine myself listening to soft jazz music at a cabin by the lake, with Teresa and I talking about all sorts of things. And us always having a smile on our face. Which depressed me, because whenever I think about Teresa and my future together, I always start to get teary eyed.

And while thinking all of this, a guy around 20 or so walked in the restaurant with a big smile on his face. He was asian and very skinny and was wearing a shirt with a stick figure cowboy on it smoking a cigarette. And his name was Max. And whenever he comes in, he always seems very happy, and after placing his order, he always goes outside and smokes a cigarette. And I always think to myself that I want to be just like him when I'm older, and that maybe he went through the same thing I'm going through right now. And that he'd tell me to stick in there.

I will never be a realist. I think everyone should have hopes and dreams and things like that. And one night a while ago, Teresa asked me if I was only living because of the her. And I just started crying and didn't really reply, because I honestly didn't know why I was living. And it depressed me, but eventually I got over it. Maybe.

And after work I calmed down and had a cigarette, and vowed that I would only have a cigarette when I really needed one. And I went to the local book/music store and picked up this album by Thelonious Monk called "Criss-Cross". And I listened to it on the way home, and it was very nice.

And that's about it. I have to write an essay about rascism in the sixties now.

cya.

-george

I woke up a few minutes ago feeling very very lousy, with tears pouring down my cheeks. It's been a while since I've cried this hard and felt this awful, and I don't really know what triggered it. I kept saying to myself that I wanted to give up cigarettes because cigarettes give me this false impression of happiness, and that I just wanted to stay in this awful mood for a while longer and kill myself.

I realized that what I said about Grace was really harsh, but I'm not really sorry. I just want her to be okay in the future, because she's not okay right now. I have to force her to goddamn eat everytime I see her. I just want to ask her one day, if I didn't have a car and didn't treat her to things every so often, if she'd still love me. And I'm sure she'd say yes, but mean no inside. I hate our relationship. I want to end it now. I don't know. I still feel lousy.

I wish I had a Teresa here to cheer me up when I feel this way, but I don't even think I'd feel this way if I did have someone like that here to keep me company. I don't get it. I can't go more than a couple weeks without doing this to myself. I've grown paranoid. I think everyone (all the kids anyway) that work for my parents hate me, because I barely do any work, and I hate that impression I give, that I'm probably just some rich snobby kid who gets babied by his parents. I don't want to work there. My dad was telling me how I had to because I was going to leave for college soon. It made me wonder WHAT THE FUCK THEY WERE DOING when I ran away for a month.

I'm not feeling so lousy anymore. I just want to get away from this place again. But this time, when I say "this place", I mean everything I know.

cya.

-george

I remember when I was about six or so, my sister asked me to get her some hot water from the hot water tap (she was about three at the time). The tap was kind of this machine thing that sort of resembled a rice cooker. Anyway, I wasn't tall enough to reach it, so I had to get a chair to step on, and when I was pressing the button for the hot water to come out, I fell and the hot water got all over my hand. And the skin around my thumb kind of burnt off. And I ended up running to the couch and laying there until my parents came and noticed that I had this piece of skin flapping off of my hand.

So at the hospital, they made me sit on one of those bench dealies with the butcher paper on it. I never quite understood the reasoning for the butcher paper, besides the fact that it's somehow supposed to prevent disease. Anyway, I sat there and looked very nervous because I didn't know what was going to happen to me. After I sat there a while, a nurse came in with a bowl of ice water, which I soaked my hand in. It felt like heaven. And after a few minutes, she cut off the skin with scissors.

The reason I bring this is up is because life is filled with consequences, whether or not you acknowledge them. I knew the hot water could have burned me, but I didn't think twice that it might happen. I'm sorry if this next part sounds preachy. I don't want really want it to.

I've been debating lately whether or not God exists, because I haven't been paying much attention to religion. And whenever I think about giving up Christianity, I become deathly afraid of going to hell, and think that God has to exist. I just don't believe in Evolution is all. I'm sure evolution occurs in nature and things like that, but I really believe that someone has to make it happen. Sometimes I wonder if I should just become a Buddhist.

Speaking of which, at work tonight I saw a couple praying before they ate, which amazed me because I don't really see people do that anymore. I'm sure families do it at home and at get-togethers with neighbors and such, but I've never really seen it in public. It was nice, that's all.

And Jessica who works there was telling me how I just stood there and answered the phone, while everyone else was working. And I told her I would get yelled at if I did anything else. And she just kind of nodded and smirked and walked off. And a few minutes later I got kind of upset because I didn't want her to think anything bad about me, because I'd really like to help out more, because I really do hate standing up there and looking like I own the place. Which I do. That's the worst part.

And all of this makes sense when you're driving home without a license, and the nights seem to glow, and the sky appears to be happy.

cya.

-george

Grace tries to erase everything bad anyone has to say about her from her mind, even when it's true. And she doesn't try to change because she's trying to think that she's on the right track. And I'm sick of her not improving ANY. She need to stop trying to be a person worthy of someone else's love. Someone magnificent. She needs to stop doing all of this. Because I made these awful decisions before. I hate myself for it. I wasted life. Enough about that.

I miss my car because I usually go smoke during lunch and listen to music which calms me down. But now I can't even do THAT anymore, and it depresses me. And I have to go to work right after school today, so I don't have time to take a break from this crummy world. I'm still in a good mood, and hopefully I will be later. I really miss the time when I could eat as many peanut butter and jelly sandwiches as I wanted, and not care about how I looked afterwards.

An idea I was thinking of in the car this morning on my way to school. If everyone was so conscious about their weight (due to what other people think of them), why doesn't everyone just stop exercising and start eating as much as they can? I'm sure we'd be a lot happier without worrying about the hassle of looking good for the crowd. Then I realized that there will still be sick people, and there will still be skinny people, even if they stop exercising and start eating, because that's how our nature is. And I think it's funny that nature prevents us from becoming similar. What a mind game.

And now I have to go to class.

cya.

-george

"What the hell? Do you have no sense of logic?" - Grace

Today was nice. It got cold in the evening, however. I wish I had brought a sweater to keep me warm.

The only real thing that stands out today is me listening to Mars Volta throughout school. And people thinking it was amazing, although they had never heard of them before. And how Kate was the only one who knew about them, and she even gave me a side story about them, which impressed me. And I commended her. And she was telling me how Modest Mouse was pretty awful live, and that we both agreed that we miss Blaise terribly. "He's such a silly billy".

After that me and Alan hung out. He's very cool. I picked up a couple "From Autumn to Ashes" CD's. They're a little too hard for me at times, but I think I'll pick them up over time. I'm failing everything in school. I'm turning into something wonderful. I think my voice is broken.

cya.

-george

And yes, I'm trying to fucking slander her.

I have suddenly grown very angry at Grace, reading her journal. It made me think of her and how she's always so depressed for reasons that "she cannot control". Goddamn it.

She had the opportunity to go to school, which seems to be the most basic of things one could do to turn their life around. She doesn't like it because of something she doesn't quite acknowledge. She is a fucking nobody at school, but she is worshipped by geeks and so forth outside of school, because outside of school, this stereotypical label doesn't matter. And I'm okay with that, I just wanted to acknowledge it.

She soaks up people and milks them for what they're worth. She is a hypocrite. She fucks people she doesn't love. She has dreams that she doesn't know how to fulfill. She spends meaningless days lounging around doing nothing to fulfill these dreams.

Okay, so she wants to be in a goddamn band. She doesn't want me to be in it. I want to be in it, but then again, she only sings, and doesn't really know that much about music theory. I've never played piano or guitar for her before, and I don't think I will, unless I am in a really happy mood. It would just upset her.

It would just bring ME down if I were in her crummy band anyway. I feel divine. I feel "holier than thou". I feel like everytime I hang out with her, I'm doing HER a favor, and not the opposite. She thinks she's better than people. She needs to boost of self confidence.

I just think it's fucking pathethic. And I still consider her a very good friend. So now all of you can hate her, but I'll still be there for her because I'm a sap. Fuck you, Grace. Stop trying to be like me, then hiding it, then changing quickly to something else. Try to be unique for once, goddamn it.

Yeah, I'm going to quickly cover up this entry by writing another. Bye.

-george

Today was very exciting. I can't really explain my last entry, except I felt infinite when I wrote it. The way you walk across the park late at night while smoking a cigarette, and the crickets chirping feels like harmony in your head. In your soul.

In English class I was feeling very good, because I am on Improv team now, and for some reason, that boosts my self esteem in everything. I'm much more cheery. And usually everyone is very nervous about reading their essays but I didn't care today. So Mister Rice told this girl Doris that she was going to read her essay in the front of the class next Monday (we have essays due every Monday, which I think is fabulous), and he asked if anyone was going to read theirs with Doris, thinking no one was going to say they would, but I raised my hand and slammed it against the desk and said, "I will, Mister Rice!". And he said okay, and everyone kind of looked at me like I was crazy. And when he asked me how my Russian was (he assigned me a report about Tolstoy who is Russian), I said excellent. And everyone laughed. And I was in a good mood, although everyone get's C's on their essays, and the highest anyone has ever gotten is a B. And I got a B on the essay he handed back today, and I was happy.

Actually, that's about it, except that I walk across the school park at lunch now to smoke a cigarette. And I've been feeling that I don't need cigarettes that much anymore.

cya.

-george

I feel alive. I feel like what I want, what I need, is close. That I can grasp it. That I can finally grasp smoke.

I was smoking a cigarette. And I was thinking about the things in my life. And I killed the cigarette. And I bent it. And it was wonderful.

And then I came and layed on my bed. And it was silent. And I could hear ringing in my ears. And I could hear the tick of a clock. And I knew that time was winding down.

And I finally realized something. Time is winding down until heaven is here. And maybe heaven is already within my grasp. Within my reach. And maybe I'm already there. I layed on my bed, and I felt the dust on my bedside. And I realized one day I will be in heaven. Because I know such a place exists. And everything will be wonderful.

Hopefully... I haven't lost my charm.

cya.

-george