Meaningful Conversation

Spring Break, I did not want to get out of bed at all the entire week. Saturday morning came and passed, stayed in my room until around four 'O' clock when I finally decided to get my sorry ass out of bed and take a shower. I picked myself up after a week of despair, told myself to get it together and mentally slapped myself in the face. I got dressed and went out for a walk. Six 'O' clock came by, my family ate dinner without me, I went to the local mall to get myself a Vanilla Chai Tea, after that I took the initiative to meet up with a friend. Specifically my ex-girlfriend. We didn't have a horrible falling out or anything so we still act friendly towards eachother. I met up with her and we hung out for a few hours at her house. We talked about some of her old relationships that had gone sour, we talked about music, we fantaized about the future, we had a meaningful conversation about everything. I wasn't putting on a facade like an old boyfriend would, I was actually interested in everything she said, we are still best friends and we seen eachother everyday since. I'm just happy to actually be able to talk to someone that cares and listen to someone that I want to hear. Around ten I remembered, or rather my stomache reminded me, that I hadn't eaten dinner. I asked her if she had eaten and it turns out that my sudden apearance at her house had interupted her dinner. Feeling somewhat guilty I offered to take her out to get a late dinner but she kindly turned down my offer. We hugged our goodbyes and I left her house. It was a great way to end a shitty day though, so I have to thank her for getting me out of a rut.

Self-Loathing

This Saturday I didn't do much. I sat in bed until four-ish, just being sad about my mistakes and my choices. It wasn't until five that I pulled myself together and took a shower. I got dressed afterwards and went for a walk. Walks are my way of composing myself and getting my thoughts together. I had some pretty good thoughts, some about the future, some about the past, reflecting on some memories. Overall there weren't many things that made the day bad but there was also nothing that made the day great.

I've Missed... This

Last Saturday I was forced to gather my friends to hang out. It's not like I hate being around my friends, I'm just not comfortable around all people in general and we're all shut-ins anyway. It turned out to be a pretty great day. Everyone arrived around five like I planned, we all went upstairs, and like the men we are, started playing video games. Games like Worms, Trials Evolution, Scott Pilgrim Vs. The World The Game, and other things like that. Honestly it was great I think because I had my friends over, it's been such a long time since I've actually spent a day with people I liked to be around.

Big Day

A lot of important things went on today for me. I woke up around six to take, what some may argue to be the most important test of your life, the SAT. I was one of the first ten people there along with my friend. I'm not kidding you, everyone was supposed to be inside the building before seven forty-five, I was in at around seven thirty along with probably only ten people. As the minutes passed more and more people showed up, the lobby was filled by eight 'O' clock. We took our test and I just happened to be seated in front of an old... someone I used to know. It got me thinking about things which will lead into more of this Saturday. I thought about some things in my past, some things that were hazy or not very clear... And that's when I felt it. A flash of intense pain, a heat wave of sorts, then, suddenly frozen. My hands were numb and it felt like I was being stabbed by a thousand dull needles with no end in sight. I've known this feeling before, it's the feeling right before my vision goes white then fades to black and I pass out. Granted I didn't have breakfast but I think it was my thoughts that made me ill. As soon as I felt my spell coming on, I quickly removed my jacket, let the cool air conditioned atmosphere set it, and slowed my breathing, taking deeper and deeper breathes as it progessively worsened. I managed to get internal systems stable before the test began, I knew the thoughts weren't going to just leave though. I took my test, I think I did pretty well, went home, sat down, stood up, ran to the bathroom, and let myself out there. Somewhere in between sat down and stood up, I thought about it again. It made me physically ill to think about it. The rest of the day pretty much consisted of walking around some more, getting myself back to moderate condition. When night fell I talked to a few of my close friends and even went to meet up with one of them. I was telling her about my thoughts and what had happened to me. I know she understands me and my feelings because she's going/has gone through the same things. I pretty much spilled my emotions out to her and it felt pretty great to just say it aloud to someone. We parted ways and her words still echoed in my head along with more thoughts. I wanted to talk to another person I've known for awhile, I couldn't just go meet up with this person so I sent out a text. I really tried to have a conversation but it quickly became clear that I wasn't someone that this person wanted to talk to. Maybe they were tired, maybe they weren't in the best of moods as it was, I just don't think they wanted to hear from me. On a brighter side, I've found so many new songs (at least to me) over the past week and I've not stopped listening to them. Had it not been for my dad and I going to a Three Days Grace concert, I would have missed out on so much great music.

Snippet of my Adventure

February fifteenth I went to a concert. Three Days Grace. Before playing one of their hit songs, I Hate Everything About You, the fill in singer, Matt Walst, gave a speech I didn't expect. The phrase that struck out to me with the most ferocity was this. Have you ever felt that you hated someone? Now, have you ever hated someone you felt. I know why it was so important to me, interpretation however you'd like, the interpretation I'm giving here is this. Have you ever hated someone, have you ever hate someone that you understood, or that understood you. Perhaps a friend, a betrayal, a low blow, or a stab in the back. I've got my feelings about it and it's important to me that I remember Matt's words. I don't think I can forget them, and I hope I don't.

Weekend Pains

I'm sort of going to make this post spanning over the last few days. Thursday morning I woke up feeling nauseous with a headache and sore throat, regular cold slash flu sympotoms right? I stayed home most of the day and wasn't planning on going out until my grandparents showed up expecting to see me play at the basketball game. They found out I was sick on their way over so they didn't plan on staying to actually watch the game (Thinking I wouldn't go). I went to the game despite my Cold slash Flu, I don't know if it was a good idea or not. Friday morning I woke up with a very withered voice, I had a hoarse tone and could barely speak. By the end of the day on Friday my voice was nearly gone. Saturday morning I woke up and found out I could only speak in a whisper. Everyone was out of the house an for some reason everyone in the world decided to call me. Do you know how hard it is to speak to someone over the phone without a voice? It's pretty hard, I was straining myself just to get out a few audible words. I went to go get my letter jacket, something I've been putting off but wouldn't you know it, the store was closed. My dad called me while I was in the area and asked me to come look at cars with him. None of the vehicles we scoped out had a particular appeal to me. Dinner time showed up a little late and I was in the mood for sushi. I didn't have a cucumber in the fridge so I drove to my friendly neighborhood Wal-mart to pick one up. On my way out I had a tiny chat with my pal Bailie and we both went on our ways. It was around two in the morning on Sunday that I woke from my slumber in a coughing fit, fell off my bed, rolled to my trash can, and started dry-heaving. I coughed for a few minutes straight hunched over the toilet struggling to get in tiny breathes, I'm surprised no one heard me dying. Currently I am unable to fall back asleep so I'm sitting here in bed typing a new Saturday Update and watching my favorite movie of all time, I am Number Four.

My Poor Little Finger

So, after staying up until five or six this morning I decided I should probably go to sleep. I started sleeping to Fireflight and woke up to Skrillex, pretty good sleeping music if you ask me. It was almost Noon when I woke up, about 11:45 ish. I got up, texted a lady friend, had a deep and meaningful conversation about absolutely nothing, and then took a shower. After half an hour of showering (I was busy singing and sleeping instead of actually showering) I finally washed my hair and cleaned myself up. Got out of the shower and continued to text a lady friend. She and I made plans in the future so I may write about that sometime. After three hours of doing pretty much nothing (Exciting right?) I got my butt off the bed and got dressed for work. It was a pretty average day at work for the most part but while I was in the back cleaning out a tub, I reached in to grab some forks and knives but I didn't pull any up, this is where I'm going to go into detail. I ripped my hand out of the tub almost as soon as I had put it in, my right index finger was on fire. I looked at it for a second and a few droplets of blood started to come out. I walked over to the manager to ask for keys to the office so that I could patch it up with a Band-Aid. As I was walking to the office, I was surprised by Jenae who called from behind me and asked "Oh my gosh, Brandon, are you okay?" to which I replied "Yeah, I guess?" It wasn't until I had said it that I noticed she was looking at my hand. From the third digit on my right index finger, there was a trail of dark red blood, streaming down all the way to my wrist. I sort of hurried myself to the office as soon as possible and as I fumbled around the keys to get the office opened I noticed my hands shaking, I guess the sight of my own blood is a little unerving. I opened the door and got myself a bandage as soon as possible then walked out, returned the keys and got back to my station. I cleaned off the blood stream from my finger to my wrist with hot water and soap then got a glove to keep anything from getting around the bandage. I looked through my tub to find what had sliced my finger and the culprit was none other than a shattered glass that my co-worker, whomever it may be, failed to mention was in there. I went on with my business, cleaning out tubs when I hear on of the other managers ask "Who cut themselves?" to which I instinctively answered "I did" I turned around to see him looking at the floor. Specifically he was staring at the trail of blood that had dripped from my finger to the floor the whole time as I was getting a Band-Aid. He asked if I was okay and I told him in a very serious voice "I hope so." he went on with his business and I went on with mine. I do have to say that my cut hurt like a mother trucker, it was like salt in the wound... Oh wait, it probably was.... and also soda, vinegar, lemons, and ketchup. I wanted to die it hurt so bad. I finally got off work and drove home without the bandage because the bleeding had stopped. As I walked into my front door to tell someone about my night my cut somehow opened itself up again and I started bleeding all over the floor without me noticing. I stopped to tell my dad about it and as I finished up and walked into the kitchen I noticed I had a two red dots, one at the base of my thumb and one at the tip. I looked down at the floor and I had left another trail of blood, it's a good thing it was on the hardwood floor rather than the carpet. I patched it up with another Band-Aid, gauze, and some medical tape. As I'm typing this though I notice that the gauze is getting a little red so my finger has apparently refused to stop its profuse bleeding and has started to soak through it's dressings, fantastic.