Argh.

Comcast doesn’t allow web servers. I’m still making it one. I just won’t use it until I have a provider that allows it.

Hmm

I took my old computer out of the nothingness it was standing as. I’m going to make a web server out of it. Whee.

That’s for tomorrow, though. I think I’m gonna go eat or something.

And then there was four.

Well, today marks number four with $520.00. I’m sure I will get use out of it!

I worked 8-12. It was too early for me to think, so I got some curb service. Fun.

I went to my brother’s hockey game. He lost.

I’ll probably write some in a tad.

Fires burn, like icicles form in my body, quickly and relentlessly.

I got a 12 string acoustic Mitchell guitar. It’s nice. I did get some other things, too.

It looks like my only day off for this break was Christmas. Oh well. It’s not like I have anything better to do, anyway.

I think I’m going to write in a little bit. Probably after a shower. I don’t know.

Something most people don’t know.

I’m no longer Christian. Hell, I think Science, Religion, and History are all lies. If you must burn in hell, I’d want to be with you there.

Solstice= love + death

Oh, I got accepted into the wonderful college of the Atlantic Cape Community. That’s good, I suppose. I picked Literature as my major. I really want to get a MFA in Creative Writing, but I’ll have to do that after I get my Associates degree.

Christmas is almost here. I didn’t ask my parents for anything, but I do think I know what they got me. It doesn’t really matter, either way. If they got me nothing, I don’t think I would feel bad or anything. It’s not like I really need anything. Half of the stuff I do have I don’t use or hardly use.

I censor a lot of my life out of this blog. This is sort of public domain information, because anything I write here you probably already know.

What is there to tell, anyway. Anything I’d say is probably already in my poetry.

Facts of Noah’s life:

Well, I like someone. That someone doesn’t like me. I’m not heartbroken or sad or anything. Life goes on and will go on. I’m not going to waste time in life fretting over anything lame. That’s not saying that I still don’t like her, though. I probably will continue to do so. Amazing people tend to be hard to come by, especially in New Jersey. What a beautiful mind.

I write a lot of poetry. I’m hoping to write something that makes her proud. It’s not only that, though. I like to write a lot. I will continue to do so. Hell, I hope I can someday release a compilation of poetry. It’s not that I’m trying to write as many as I can, either. I can’t write only one poem and have it be super amazing or anything, but the more I write the more likely one of those is to come along.

I hate when people touch me. Of course, it’s not everyone. It seems that the majority of the people who touch me are ones that I don’t want to. Why would I want to hug you? I probably don’t even really care if I ever speak to some of you again. (It’s probably not anyone that reads this blog, though, because I think only my friends would want to. Maybe, not.)

I prefer to be alone. I’d rather sit around here writing poetry, playing guitar, or playing a game than hang around most people. There are exceptions to everything, I suppose. For example, I hung out with Gianni twice, I think. I’ve gone out with people probably like six times in the past two years.

People who toss around love like it’s a common thing really grind my gears. You’re not in love after like fifteen days, kids. I personally believe it has something to do with the whole having sex thing. It sort of justifies it, maybe. I really don’t know. Perhaps, I’m just bitter from never falling in love. It just really means a lot to me.

Age doesn’t matter in the least bit to me. This creates some rather awkward situations. I get along with people who are older than me more than the ones that are the same age. I do have friends my age, though. Just the majority of kids and me are totally different.

I’m a virgin until marriage. It’s not some religious thing. I’m not abstinent for “the holy lord.” I don’t think anyone is worthy of having the (dis)pleasure of having sex with me, unless they are vowed by my side.

I’m straightedge. I might be different from not being afraid to say how I really feel and whatnot, but that doesn’t mean I have to be on drugs. I’ve never touched any, to be honest. I’ve never been drunk or high, I’ve never drank, though I have tasted, I’ve never smoked a cigarette. I have had the chance to do all of these multiple times in my life. I’m way smarter than you, though. Why start a habit that wastes money and causes problems?

That’s enough for now. I’ve repeated all that stuff many times before.

How we end up

Damn it. So, I totally rubbed against a car that was out of its lines today. I dented my sister’s truck. They were fine, though, so that’s good. I still feel like a retard. I tend to mess a lot of things up. I’m just not going to drive anywhere unless I have to, like work. At least until I get my own car, which will hopefully be a lot smaller.

I am BEOWULF!

Wow, can I not go a day without doing something incredibly ridiculous? Well, I sort of didn’t know we were supposed to go out to our buses without there being an announcement over the intercom, so I sort of waited for one. It never came. When I got to third period they called me up to attendance from Miss Salvatore telling me to get the hell out there. Oh well. So, I went. It was one of the funniest movies I have ever seen. Of course it’s not really supposed to be a comedy, but it was hilarious nonetheless. After the movie I sort of sat around looking at the ground waiting to leave. I started writing another story in my notebook, and then I went to eighth period to listen to a presentation.

Fun times.

How come my shoes are so light, how come I can walk for a mile?

Here is how my presentation might go.

Emily Dickinson lived from December 10th, 1830 to May 15th, 1886. She was born in Amherst, Massachusetts. Her family was very successful. She showed a sharp intelligence in her youth, and wrote rhyming stories that delighted her classmates. Her father was very strict, as to raise his children correctly. This made Dickinson deferential to male figures, though in her own way she did love and respect him. She was both a keen artist and an accomplished musician and enjoyed singing during her college years. She went to school at the Amherst Academy for seven years before spending some time at Mount Holyoke Female Seminary. When she returned home she did domestic chores, such as helping her mother with cleaning and sewing. She was often ill at ease in other people’s company. She gradually reduced her social contacts, and went less and less into society. She still kept written contact with many people. From her late twenties until her death she lived as a recluse and never went anywhere, very rarely even leaving the Homestead. Less than a dozen of her poems were published during her lifetime. The ones that were published were altered to fit conventional methods of poetry at the time. She told her sister to burn her many poems on her death bed, but she didn’t do so until after she had copied them. She died from Bight’s disease. Bight’s disease is brought upon by kidney degeneration, and her doctor stated that stress contributed to her premature death.

Many poems refer to an invisible lover- an object of devotion. There’s evidence that she had an emotional bond with Judge Otis Lord, but her poems are deliberately vague.

For every joy there is a doubt. She is remembered for her unique and powerful poetry.

I don’t know, though.

Words without a meaning

It’s funny. I was hoping my feelings would disappear, yet they haven’t changed one bit. Am I just stupid? I know I’m intelligent, but I mean for real. I actually knew they wouldn’t. Oh well, there’s nothing you can do about your emotions. I’m just incredibly happy that I met her. These words will probably be null sometime as I meet someone else I find amazing. Or, maybe not. I suppose I can look back at the pages of this blog and laugh no matter the outcome. I seem to ramble on and on about whatever, but in actuality I know nothing. Maybe, someone will want to share this nothing with me. Perhaps, “Time will change your heart.”

It’s been over a month. I was so mortified. Feelings are usually easily spread from my lips, but this was different.

I’m sorry for making you feel uncomfortable. I’m also sorry for being inappropriate.

Though, to be honest, I didn’t find it very inappropriate. Our eyes probably see differently. I’ve always felt that age doesn’t matter.

I’ll stand by someone someday, you can count on that. Whether it’s you, someone I know, or someone I haven’t met yet, it’s my will to live. I want to love and be loved. I want to make you happy, whoever you are. I want to be happy, but I will never feel complete alone.

Haha. This comes from a loner and a hermit.

It’s funny how one can change you oh so much.