I work alone

I work alone. 

I prefer it that way. While I am kind of anti social I guess, when I work with other people, I want to interact with them, and as my time on the newspaper could show anyone, not very much work gets done in the office, instead I scramble around at the last minute to get everything done. Some people call it procrastination. I just tell them its because they can’t handle the pressure, and I’m clutch.

Anyways, in my current job which is wonder boy extraordinaire (I think that’s spelled right), I clean water features at an upscale high rise community in down town Chicago right by Millennium Park. I’m like a pool boy, except I work underground, and most of the woman are more heavily clothed. So as I perform my duties of cleaning out filters and grates, applying chlorine tablets to the water and making every thing is running smoothly, I get to people watch a little bit.

Very few people, even though they all have something in common, hardly speak a word to each other as they migrate from their homes into the world around them, going off to jobs, college, or wander the city. One girl, probably in her early twenties, just watched me for a good hour as I worked and she sat on a bench, drinking her Starbucks coffee, smoking her cigarettes, curled up with her oversized sunglasses partially distorting her tranced stare, just watching. In between water features, I would look up and her eyes and head would follow me as I moved to each location to continue with my work. Me, wondering why the hell she’s staring at me. Her, wondering god knows what and probably why I’m trying to catch stolen glances at her. Her hair shone in the sun light, each puff of smoke, thoughtful, yet careless. Each cigarette burned out at the same spot on the bench, and littered in a little pile. Not a care in the world for that short while.

Besides that, I would say my full time job is doing what I love the most: writing songs. I was never that good at poetry, I can’t stand the restrictions that people put on them, and i am not good enough, or dead enough, to be abstract and understood. Which is why I choose song writing. The lyrics cover up what I lack at guitar, and the guitar fills in the spots where I can’t find the right words.

I have always wanted to have someone ask me: “why do you write what you write? Where do you find the inspiration? Can I give you 20 million dollars for your songs?”, but no one ever has. So I guess, this is where I’m asking myself, and writing it out loud for anyone that cares to read.

I write what I write because its cleansing for my soul. Almost all of the songs come from personal experience and anguish, some might be a little embellished to make the point clearer or to properly portray the emotions I had at that moment to a bystander who was not affected, but almost always true. I have a hard time opening up to people and letting out the pain. I find that if I write a song, or a poem, or any other medium than straight up telling someone about something, anything, its all okay. If you tell someone that you suffer from depression, they look at you funny and say something is wrong with you. If you write a song about it, they compliment your song writing, and ask where you got the inspiration. I talk to everyone so I don’t have to talk to anyone. It will make sense. The anonymity helps with a lot of things, sometimes you don’t want to be another face in the crowd, but often times, that’s what helps the most. And yes, for 20 million, all my songs are yours, thanks for asking.

I hope to keep this a regular thing, hope to add more photos and such, but I think a blog will be therapeutic and to keep my writing up to par.

The Difference Between Us

   In a talk with my sister, I asked why most girls text with a smiley face like (: while most guys text it like :). I asked why, and the response was that on some phones or on messaging boards, the smiley when written like :) will get automatically change to an emoticon and sometimes it won’t transfer through a text or some people just find it annoying.

   While this may seem silly and frivolous, it brings up to a larger point. Why do most females do this while most males don’t?

   One could argue, as well as my original thoughts, that females just care more than males on this subject. However, there is something to be said on this. To men, shopping is an inconvenience. We go buying, not to peruse, not to see how something looks even though we have no intention of buying the item, not to see if you can find one in your size, we just buy. The closest I come to shopping is when I try out guitars, but I still have a very distinct idea of what I want, and could barely be called shopping.

When I started thinking about this, I stopped and thought  ‘are men really missing out on something’? It saves time to just go out and buy, but what are we gaining from that? The old adage ‘take time to stop and smell the roses’ comes to mind. With life being  so hectic and busy all the time, could people benefit from taking a little extra time on stuff just because you can? The simple  things in life are sometimes the most joyful and can lead to great experiences. For instance, I was able to take a day and just walk around the campus instead of running around to classes and then off to work immediately after, I spent two hours just walking around, enjoying the weather and observing people. 

   I noticed that the people who smoked take time for themselves and socialize with others and appeared to be enjoying themselves considerably more than the people you see walking around with ear buds in, books in hand, cursing because they were running late and had to park a few spots farther than usual.

I talked to a few of the smokers, and after a little while I asked them why they started smoking. Most blankly looked at me for a few seconds and then replied, ‘I have no idea. I knew people that smoked and then I started because it was something to do.’ With all of the obvious side effects of smoking, is it more healthy to smoke and lead a more ‘chilled’ life or run around a stressball constantly worrying about every little thing and taking no time for yourself?

   Time is money, but at what cost?

And another day goes on

Well today started out like every Thursday has for the past couple of weeks; working in the office. Got home at 1am, woke up at 6am and drove to school at 7am. Monotony is starting to set in, but I'm starting to branch out to more people and make more connections. I'm starting to realize a gift that I have, one that just makes people want to vent to me.
Sometimes its a pain, but I know what's it like to not have anyone to talk to, and just letting the anguish and anger out helps. I don't know what makes me so likable in that way, but if I can do something to help people become less like the person I am, its a way I can help the world. I guess its kind of like that PostSecret thing, but with a more personal feeling. It's like a psychiatrist without having to worry about being sent to an insane asylum. Maybe I can find a way to tie this into future blog posts, or podcasts. Anything to branch out. I feel like when people talk to me, and I just listen, they go into a zone and just everything out.
My writing is getting stale, I feel it. Solely working on news stories and having to maintain a neutral voice is hard, and I always kind of took a more hands on voice with my work. I guess I need to work on that, but being able to do writing like the stuff on here helps my sanity.
I miss her, and I don't know what I can do to fix it. Just taking everything day by day trying to figure it all out. Sometimes, goodbye IS a second chance. Who knows

It's only Tuesday...

Oh the joys of another week. Got studio time, but didn't get to actually record anything yet, really looking forward to Thursday when we will be returning with a bass player.

An editor quit yesterday, so I have to work on more stories to fill up extra space.

College is a ton of work. Not the actual class work, but doing the newspaper is draining me mentally, physically and emotionally. Again, as the thought I had last year, newspapers may not be for me. I am finding a great joy in doing work like this Blog, even though I doubt anyone reads it, and doing more features/column type writing. I hope to start getting into podcasting soon, as it presents a new alternative and allows people to hear actual interviews and get to know the actual people, instead of reading what is fed to them.

The best part about my job and what I do is not just writing so people can learn, but watching people, listening to people and being with these people and see how they answer certain questions and see their reactions. The most important thing I learned is to look into people's eyes, and to let them fill the void. Nobody wants to have awkwardness and will do almost anything to avoid that feeling, that sensation that what they may be doing isn't right, or may not be viewed as the best. People can always put on their p-p-poker face, but their eyes can not lie. You can see the shine in people's eyes when they are happy, you can see the pain when they know that there is something wrong and you can see the anger even though they might be smiling.

The only thing that saves me is that feeling, and getting to observe people when out of their element. Nobody wants to be interviewed, and those that want to, are usually pretty weird. If anyone says that they have an official statement, don't listen to it.

What is going on?

In a day and age when all it takes to become famous is to be a) incredibly stupid, b) incredibly annoying or c) a general asshole.
Shows like Jersey Shore, or the Real Housewives (both of which I have never watched except for small snippets) just endorse this kind of behaviour for the general populous. Who are these people in real life? Absolute nobodies that got on this show, and are now famous, strictly for being famous.
Before, when someone wanted to become famous, they wanted to be a rock star or an actor. To do either of  these usually required a long time of working shitty jobs and trying to get your 'chance in the spotlight'.
Now, all it takes is a certain look, reality TV has no care for acting ability, and actually prefer it when you don't.
Out of all the people who watch American Idol, how many solely watch for the first couple of weeks to see trainwrecks, or if you don't just watch that, you do watch it.
Back when I was your age, (yeah, that's right) back when I was your age, we would turn performances like that off because they were bad. Nay! Horrendous.
Now, thanks to Youtube, and reality TV shows, everyone is a big deal. I love Youtube and believe it to be one of the greatest ideas in my lifetime, but people just go out and make ridiculous videos just for the attention. That's not right.
Who am I to judge? Good point. I think it was put best when asked "Who should be the judges and juries of our society" and the response was "the judges and juries".
I'm an 18 year old, pissed off at the world, with a MacBook and a blog.
And who are you? That crazy Britney fan who cried and screamed on camera, or that 2 year old that smokes 2 packs a day, or are you Antoine Dodson, the Bed Intruder.

I pissed the universe off

For some reason, the world is giving me the middle finger and spitting on me. I wish I knew what it was that I had done to deserve this.

Short story, went to go get a Monster this morning, only to find out their debit card machine was broken and had to use cash. I had 3 dollars on me, and had to go to my car to get change. Grabbed a quarter, only to drop it down a gutter or sewage receptacle, and had to use 20 some pennies...

Facebook got deleted

Yesterday, my Facebook account got somehow deleted, and because of this, it got me thinking. Thinking about all of the social networking media that is out there today. I now have 2 friends, and my news feed is empty. All of the little witty things I post as my status, now mean nothing. All of the 300 some friends I had, mean nothing. It really puts everything in perspective. I got to thinking, and I realized who my true friends are, some good people who I can spend time with doing nothing and still have the time of our lives.