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The final post.

Let's keep it simple because I'm really sleepy. This'll be a collection of quotes of my creation. Sounds egotistical, I know. Whatever.

"Regrets live on as lessons,"

"we are all gods in our own rite,"

"What is a candle without a match? Who are we without each other?"

"Isn't it cool how we're so small, so insignificant. Yet, our souls have reached beyond the stars,"

"This lemon bread is like humanity.  sweet and sour goodness,"

"rain doesn't swoon, it simply falls,"

"We're at that age, huh? Welp, time to romanticize something random. I choose sleep."

This was a pleasant experience. I've said this before but who knows. These chronicles might continue elsewhere.

¯\_( ͡ᵔ ͜ʖ ͡ᵔ )_/¯

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Writing Prompt for 11/4: Write a story that starts by establishing its setting in a different time period — without explicitly stating what that period is.

Kudos to those who can figure out where and when my story takes place.

The rising sun blinds me for a moment. Then everything comes into view. Workers carrying barrels usher me off of the boat ramp and on to the low grass. I could taste the salt in the air, fellow travelers continuing ahead of me, under a blanket of falling leaves. They dance, colors reminding me of flame. Something makes me clutch at the blade at my hip. My nation is at war with this one. And here I am, at their shoreline, little concern for the emperor or the khan's matters. I'm here for something greater. As purpose that makes me draw my blade a little. Just enough to show the same engraving the sword is wrapped in. A dragonfly insignia glints back at me. A leaf rests upon its peeking blade and gently splits in two.

The man who stole everything from me is somewhere here, sniveling and snaking his way through these streets. I will drive my blade's length into his heart. I'll drain away any hope of resistance. Everything in his life, none of it shall remain, but my retribution. He will feel my pain.

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ooh, we've made it, huh? The third to last post here before I either stop forever or continue my rants and shenanigans on another platform. Its funny how this started out as an assignment. Then it became a relaxation. There's always talk about how it feels to lose something and no, I'm not saying quitting this blog is a monumental loss (Sorry, Ms. Jones), its just time for another rant. Anyways, we get to know or will know what its like one way or another. To lose something, I mean. I think we can all agree, more often than not, a huge part of the aftermath of emotions is us not expecting that loss.  It's a weird sort of perversion we have, denial even.

But what if we knew for certain? A question like this is easy: What if you died tomorrow? Or a spin on that is also easy: We all die someday. That's not what this is really about. I'm calling cap, the fattest cap in the galaxy, that we're woke enough to see impending loss and coexist with that in our heads. What if we did? Would it change your way of life?

Food for thought, I guess. I didn't want to make this a grim as I did.

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November 2nd is the 306th day of the year. I found a list of 365 prompts and so I think you get the gist.

The prompt is, 'Write about a couple separated by distance'

She asked, 'could it work?'. Her words were left to the wind. There, on his balcony, the only noise was the wind and quiet rustle of flora below -- could it work? They'd never seen one another. Again, through the phone in his hand, she spoke,

"Paul. Could it?"

"Depends on you," He responded. They had a year left until they'd meet again. An eternity in their eyes. Maybe even too long. He continued, staring into the pixels that he fell in love with, "I've poured too much into you to back out. It's hard, Tess. Not to love you but to wait."

"Ugh, you cornball," she giggled, thinking that somehow, he didn't need the screen to notice her joy. As she finished, "What was I worried even worried about,"

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A few song lyrics to what is currently one of my top 3 songs, Projector, By EDEN

[Chorus]
I was light years ahead of me
Thoughts in my head don't disappear
I was a maybe (A maybe)
That made you the truth

[Refrain]
In time I will come to see it for how it really was
In my mind, it's only false faces whisper, “Love you”
If that feeling had a price then I would gladly pay it over and over and over 'til I'm broke
And if you held me for ransom I'd love it, I'd never wanna go home
But all this hypothetical thinking is digging me down (Down)
And maybe I was seconds away but it doesn't matter now
Heat death only seconds away, so no, it don't matter now

Eden himself said, " 'projector' is about appreciating all the ebbs and flows and accepting how things really are instead of wishing they were some other way. It started out as a very no-man’s-land kind of song, and then the lyrics ended up reflecting the concept of the death of the universe into a very personal space: this idea that no matter what’s going on in your life right now, everything eventually runs its course."

My thoughts go as follows. Everything Eden says makes sense. He gives us lyrics that define a very beautiful, yet chaotic take on carpe diem. The lyrics rhyme, but more often than not.  Its almost like, through the lyrics, Eden is simply talking about these emotions while the viewer is left to listen. Like a conversation. What he describes is a self destruction and we're witnessing it from the outside. At some point in my life, I totally resonated with his words. It creates a unique sense of emersion outside of the beat or melody. In short, listen to it.

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Let's revise an old quick write of mine.

"It was a rainy night if I remember right. I don't want to but here we go,"

"Do you...need a minute?"

"N- no, let's get this over with,"

"Whenever you're ready,"

It was a rainy night. I had just finished my work for the day and even managed to catch a flick. Your usual B-movie stuff. I got tired midway through and remember dozing off. The sounds of the film fading away, faintly illuminating the bedroom. The cool night helped me drift off. Then I woke up. I don't know how long but I woke up with beads of sweat dotting me. I sleepily pull myself up into the couch. A foul, sickly sweet stench burned my nose and throat. Through my watery eyes, I caught a glimpse. Just for a moment-- a person? No. But I didn't dare glance back. I tried to un-see it, no, it was still there. Staring back at me, from just beyond the edges of my eyes. From just behind my tv screen. No defining features behind a pristine white mask. I felt bile rise in my throat. Somehow I knew, It didn't have eyes but I knew, that was what true evil was.

Then its mask fell off. It didn't land next to the tv, though. Not even in front of it. It landed in front of me. It fell from above me. Gathering what little courage I had left, I clutched on to the glass of water in my hand. Its contents had spilled on to the floor while I had slept, what remained shook as violently as my hand.

"Is that when?"

"Y- yes...that's when it happened,"

I turned around to face it, crashing the bottle into is demonic visage. Only to hear my girlfriend fall to the floor, her head bleeding. And--

"and?"

"Don't do anything."

"What?"

"Doctor, it's in the room,"

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Rest and Relaxation. Got some for the first time in a while. A solid seven hours of sleep the night before and a class long nap after testing in fourth period. That rounds up to eight, a little short under that despicable nine hours we're supposed to get. But allowing myself to have a rest felt great. My fifth grade teacher once told me, 'You know high school students have to sleep by five pm'. My disbelief wanes every day I wake up groggy, wanting to keel over at the sound of my alarm.

I hope I can break the cycle someday.

Other methods I've chosen to relax for one is simply listening to music. Eden is my favorite artist by a mile, to me, his expression of emotion and lyricism in his songs are unmatched. I will post a link to my favorite album at the end of this post. For two, is practicing my balisong (That's butterfly knife for uncultured people). Learning tricks and having a fidget is fun, its a weird sort of discipline. That and it looks cool. And obviously not in a way to endues fear in people. 'tis a trainer blade, meaning its not even a real blade. I'm just flipping it around my fingers and hitting my toes. I'm injuring my myself more than yall. Please don't cancel me.

No Future by Eden: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLUIv-2K7wcpSLR41PQxqGZLrgs9at0PhN

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I have nothing to write for today so here's an old synopsis of a story I had in mind. It never panned out and stayed only as a paragraph.

"Wes never asked to be a hitman. Wes never asked for his family to be slaughtered. He never asked to be given his 'power'. For years, he's all but accepted his new life in Needle city. But after the arrival of Ms. Sullivan and her merry bunch, Wes finds himself finally confronting his inner demons while also fighting to keep a promise he made long before he became 'Wes'. He never asked to confront the pain he swore to forget but now, Wes and the rest of the Talons are forced to throw themselves into a new world of torment, adventure, and discovery to uncover the truth."

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If you know what these terms are linked to and mean, kudos to you. If you don't, its time to educate you uncultured folk.

The SCP foundation is a fictitious but incredibly lore-filled, deep, fun, and interesting online project. Writers from all over band together to write documents that pertain to people, place, objects, or ideas that most of not all break what we consider to be normal. In their words, anomalous. The four terms above classify their effect on us, the world, or how they generally function in addition to some others. There are currently over 6000 and still counting. Anyone can write and read. It's a beautiful passion project I used to be addicted to and have recently found enjoyment in getting back into it.

My personal favorite is an SCP about an RPG game that's basically cursed. I read the entire thing and then I clicked off the page to continue my rabbit hole but I noticed a small pop-up at the bottom of my screen. A download. Titled the SCP designation number and its title. I had the option to play it, in hindsight I should have, but instead I went to YouTube for answers and found playthroughs. This isn't just a SCP universe either, this is a multiverse. There's a lot to discover. I did this to cover my interesting content/media requirement but still, check it out, you won't regret it.

SCP Foundation: https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/

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The SCP Foundation’s ‘top-secret’ archives, declassified for your enjoyment.

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I revisited a old musician for the first time since the last time. Since then, they'd change their name for Myuuji to Myuu. Their claim to fame is their style of music, which is almost always depressing and without lyrics. Particularly, a song titled, Tender Remains, that was popular enough to garner a collaboration by a woman named Sharm, who added lyrics to it.

This alone was probably the only 'old' song I listen to without cringing. My playlist has over 500 songs in it by now and let me tell you, the first 100 scare me. Sixth grade me, scares me. Its not that the songs are suddenly bad now, they're still fun to listen to, depending on what they are -- but having that window to the past is also strange. Its cringe, funny, melancholy, and sometimes all of the above. That's about all I have to say. I'm going to listen to more old music. God Only Knows by The Beach Boys? Chef's kiss.

Link:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GX85mC8jk6Q

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Tender Remains (Vocal Piano Version) - Myuu feat. Sharm

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I made a mole. Looks like Jesus, hence the title. In the same class, chemistry fifth period, my teacher mentioned something. Something about faces. paraphrasing, he said its weird seeing what our full faces really look like, having only seen eyes and cheekbones before. It got me thinking.

What would we, as a people, be like if we didn't have either. Everyone had bodies, languages, and personalities but no facial features to discern them. Already discerning emotion with a mask on isn't impossible. I don't know if this makes sense but to me it obscures the emotion. Like someone who is smiling, but isn't happy, that's kind of what a mask does. Seeing an expression is simply better no matter what kind of excuses you may come up with. A constant masquerade is stupid.

'You know who X or Y is?'. No way you haven't been asked or have asked this question before. I don't know about you but for me, the default response is a few characteristics; hair, eyes, gender, or mannerisms. Imagine having to explain a person without describing their appearance. You always hear stuff about looks aren't everything and that's true, they aren't. But you can't just say, 'You know David? That guy who is generous, forgiving, and really clever?'. It's too broad, like a book cover.

This was just a big weird roundabout way of saying don't judge a book, isn't it? Oh well, my thoughts are my thoughts.

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10/21 I stole a man's charger, and I don't feel bad about it

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10/21 I stole a man's charger, and I don't feel bad about it

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Well, I did not get nine hours of sleep, I don't know how that's even possible at this point. A teacher from days long gone once told me that high school kids had to go to sleep at five pm. Everyday I get closer to believing her. Big shoutout to Ms. Blue.

Regardless I dozed of at an approximate 4 am and woke up positively dying. Ever since the school year began, I kept asking myself, 'How in the world was it so easy before?'. I don't really miss the days that I could run on four hours of sleep and demolish assignments but honestly, how?

And with less sleep, comes less focus. I feel bad for my second and fourth period teachers. I really do, they're the classes I often take naps in now. I do finish my work, of course, but seeing a student doze off can't be too pleasant. Especially when it happens more often than not, almost daily, shamefully.

Even now, that loss in focus made me do a little tangent. I forgot to charge my Chromebook so thank you to me fellow student for offering me their charger. Unwillingly, yes, but thank you.

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10/20 Why is Wednesday spelled like that?

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10/20 Why is Wednesday spelled like that?

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I guess we're doing a school blog. Starting here and now, On a Wednesday. I don't have a lot to say. I've become kind of numb, I suppose -- that and Wednesday is the middle day of the week so I'm out of it a little.

I don't know what it's like for other people but for me, my only method of survival is breaking the weeks up into days. Then breaking those days into class times. Its like a record, 'It's Wednesday, that's halfway through the week until the weekend, class is fifty minutes long, that's two sections of twenty-five minutes, and five sections of ten minutes'.

The tasks, yeah, if I don't break them up, I'd never do them. It's not that I don't want to be there, although that its self is debatable. I just need time to relax, room to move. Even coming home from school isn't real relaxation, knowing I'll wake up again to the same priorities. All in all, it's tiring thinking about it all.

'Get eight to nine hours', they said. 'It'll be good for you', they said. You know what? You what will really be good for me? Not having to spell Wednesday like Wed-nes-day. Who's idea was it to put a 'D' in there? Must've been some loser.