Hmm.

Usually "Hmm" portrays a thoughtfulness. Occasionally it asks some sort of a question if a question mark is tacked on the end. Right now? Its neither.

Its more of a "I don't know what else to say" sort of sound I'm making. Somewhere between a sigh and an acknowledgement of everything. Probably both.

I'm talking to the blankness of the Internet tonight. Why, you ask? Couldn't I have found better company? Yes and no. Yes, because better company exists and is, in fact, attainable. No, because everyone else seems to have found better company than me. Stupid sleep. Stupid lives.

Its just me, a time-travelling anomaly, and The Postal Service tonight. And we'll have to be enough. If only, "have to be" and "hopefully" were the same.

Let's hear it for the universe, where it never hurts diving in head first.

Greetings. Now stop. Stop whatever it is that you are also doing. What you are about to witness is history. Well, its not history yet...That would imply such a lack of interesting subject matter to have been forgotten before it was understood. That's not it at all. Its GOING to be history. See the difference? Its note-worthy. Entirely different meaning between the two. I just wanted us all on the same page. This is big and important, ok?

Tonight while I was driving home from my girlfriend's house, I drove past a billboard. This is a billboard I have driven past countless times. I usually don't register its existence. I forget what the billboard actually says. Something about a company that has a new look, but the same something-or-other. I forget. The point is that on this sign there is the sentence, "New Look." For some reason, the light that lets people read the billboard at night is almost burned out. It was flickering and the only readable word was, "Look."

Weird coincidence, I know. It got me thinking. How often is that us? We get tired and burnt out. We just don't have the strength to scream out our original message. We can't stand by our convictions. Maybe its peer pressure, or our own doubts, but SOMETHING gets in the way. So we settle. We settle for having any message. No matter what that message is. Even if its, "PAY ATTENTION TO ME!!!!"

To make matters all the more spooky, The song playing on my Ipod at that moment was "Galaxies" By Owl City. The very same one I posted not too long ago. A song all about viewing our tragedies and our missteps as God's gift to us.

Those are two different scenarios without plausible connection, you say? Not so.

We've all been in a low point in our walk with God. One probably just popped into your head when I said that. I thought of three instantly. Whats our first instinct? For me it was to say, "Hey everyone! Watch this. I know it looks like I've screwed up but I have this back-up plan that'll work out perfectly. You won't wanna miss this. Watch me! Watch me! Watch! Are you watching!? Watch! Look!"

Like the billboard that just can't manage to proclaim its whole message, we settle for any message at all. As long as the focus is on us. Thats all we care about. But its not what we should care about.

At what point do we finally let God do what He's waiting for us to let Him do? He wants our lives. He wants His plan for them. He wants us to want what He wants. Why? Because we should! He created us. He knows whats best. But still we fight. We seek attention. We're so sure we can figure it all out on our own, when all we were being asked to do was offer ourselves.

At certain points in my life, I've screwed up. OK, many points. There are a few noticable highlights. Maybe I'll get into them some time. But not today. Today, imagine you've totally blown it. Your life is in tatters. You feel like giving up. Its in that moment when your plans A through W have been proven to be worthless, THATS when we turn to God. We watch in amazement as God wipes away the tears and slowly but surely wisks us away to safety.

Then we spend a brief time basking in that safety. Only to trudge out on own all over again. Once again we're sure we have it figured out. But we don't. And eventually we'll learn that we didn't and get carried back. What if we skipped all that?

What if we didn't go through that constantly? Now, we are human no matter what we do. We'll never completely escape that. But if we bury ourselves and our desires so deep that we'll have a hard time finding them, then maybe we'll stay in that safe place walking hand in hand with God longer. I speak from experience when I say that the catastrophes and obstacles shrink drastically when we are.

So do yourself a favor and next time you're faced with impossible odds, run to God and stay in His arms. OR do yourself a bigger favor and run there now.

-Hiram The Nate

A Good Enough Me

A Good Enough Me

Leave me defeated by

The knowledge that my only victories

And pride

Were based on a bold-faced lie

On technicalities

A breath taken

From finally knowing

I can only guess

How much less

And how much more mistaken

To understand

Loses its charm

When it causes eternal harm

To the man I could have sworn

I was before the doubt was born

Where were you

When you fell with me?

I didn't see you

Where you said

You would be

Were you hiding behind

Necessity?

Is that what this is?

A chance to grab

What was only ever his?

You have it now

But maybe what you found

Isn't quite good enough

Not that I ever was

I'm oh so sorry for your loss

You're lost in time

Time you can't take back

Time with pity that lacks

Build yourself a time machine

And visit all you meant this to be

With those you wish you could see

In the reflection of your eyes

Your ever-fading eyes

Were a pleasant surprise

Maybe I'm not the best

Maybe the years forgot their place

Maybe I'm more or less

Deserving of your trust

Or I was until I crossed

The forsaken line

Of coming to an understanding

That I can never be

A good enough me

This wretched sickness

In my gut

Reminded me of

Feeling like I'm not

As useless as I thought

But that's where the pain comes from

When its just a lie I tell myself

I'm here because he's not

And no one else

Knows the truth

Maybe I'd be different

In another time

Where time didn't trip up

Or maybe it was always my destiny

To arrive here on the wind

Of a technicality

This song has been begging to get out all day. So when it came out it did so as almost a vomit. I could probably go through super carefully and polish it, but Im not sure I want to. Its raw, but thats why I like it. Its pure, honest thoughts straight from my brain. Sure, they're scary. Aren't all of us hiding the darker parts of ourselves anyway? Well I just un-hid it.

P.S. 41311

You can stop looking at me like that. You would have searched for the nearest lightsaber, too.

I was in the process of taking Shiloh outside to do unspeakable things all over our lawn. And I noticed this...

You're probably thinking, "Hey! What a cool shadow of an umbrella!" Well that isn't what I thought. I thought, "Holy Munchkins! The Evil Emperor is standing on my deck! I need a lightsaber."

Yeah...My first thought was that Darth Vader was standing before me...Im such a dork...

Holy Contributing To Juvenile Delinquency, Batman!

Yup. Actual line right there. Yes, it is. No, I didn't make that up. Best ever, you say? I think so too.

Speaking of the best ever. I have an important message to relay to my readers. Non-Eurasian Parasitic creatures are sick of their lot in life. They want to be me. *nods*

And, honestly, who wouldn't? I'm amazing. I'm the very bestest ever.

These Non-Eurasian Parasites hate being in swamps and on alligator scales and up the noses of four-year-olds petrified of anything straight from a toaster. I'd say I feel for them, but I really don't. I'm pretty sure they deserve it. I mean, they're Non-Eurasian Parasites, For An Overgrown Elephant Named Theo's Sake!

I remember this one time... A particular parasite, I believe her name was Vanessa, was strolling along the back of a lobster. And well, an orange rain jacket dropped out of the sky and onto her shoulders. She beamed with happiness for many years due to that coat. Until she decided to leave California, despite her affection and deep fondness for the west coast. She moved to Florida and got a job snacking on tourists in Disney World. Her intense disappointment with her life's direction blossomed into a full-fledged hatred for happy people. She then left and hid in a hole somewhere in the beach. Spending all the rest of her days alone.

And an Okapi named Ethan celebrated the birth of a canary for many, many years.

-Hi_am The Nate

P.S. 15320083141148

An explanation and a exclamation.

It may have been noted that I didn't post yesterday. My posting streak ended after 51 days. Maybe that's for the best. I can put more energy into my other two blogs. Basically, my excuse is that I was so emotionally drained last night that I couldn't compose something worth writing. So I didn't.

Don't worry though. I'm not abandoning this. In fact, I have a bunch of topics to cover this week. Stay tuned for the wittiness. It'll be indescribable. I promise.

Anyway, today I went to Taco Bell after surprising a certain girl. I bought this massive Mountain Dew. For $2. Taco Bell is amazing. Seriously? A full bladder and a full wallet? I call that a victory. Of course, the obesity that will result from drinking inhuman amounts of soda, won't be victory, but thats beside the point.

*hangs head*

I don't have time today. I can't write out a full-length post. But I didn't want to stop at a 50-day streak. So Im writing this little bit. I really have a good excuse why Im not writing more. I'll explain it all tomorrow. I promise.

-Hi_am The Nate

A Day of Celebrations.

Today is a momentous occasion. It is my 50th straight day of posting on this blog every single day. And I intend to celebrate it. I'll shall be celebrating like a fate-fearing lemur in the wild forests of Russia would. With a short and sweet blog post. Hmm...that made more sense in my head.

Anyway, Happy 50th Straight Day, Blog! Why don't you celebrate? Make  yourself a nice, hearty Club Sandwich. What ARE Club sandwiches?! *goes to Google club sandwiches*

Dear Nameless Brief Composition Written Or Adapted For Singing.

Dear Nameless Brief Composition Written Or Adapted For Singing

The years

They've been about as kind to you

As a certain forsaken hair-do

Its called the "mullet"

And it would take a bullet

To the cranium

If it were ever compared to you

Then blessed havoc would ensue

I've sworn myself to secrecy

Not to call you by name

Because I have the decency

Of a friendly softball game

But I'm not beyond

Dropping a hint or two

Don't you dare abscond

But if you do

Take your crappy, over-played, anal-tract-extracted, nausea-inducing, circa 1998 melancholy vibe with you

I must admit

My chest feels lighter

With every well-placed hit

To the fiber

Of your soul

I'm fresh out of self-control

And your chorus

Has long-since gotten old

The truth is

You bring to mind

A horrible time

One I've almost banished

From my consciousness

Its nothing personal

But you can take

A flying leap

Into a luke-warm bowl of corn flakes

I promise not to weep

Or even lose a moment of sleep

Have fun dying a slow

And painful death

In the silence of the radio

I won't be attending your funeral

Yeah...That was harsh, I know. I'm sure you're guessing what song is the center of my hatred. Guess all you wish. The secret is mine. Though I'm willing to bet someone will figure it out. Until then you can all ponder it.

Galaxies and Such.

A hero of mine released a single today. This hero's name is Adam Young. And his song is "Galaxies" 

I decided to write about it today because it hit me in a way that very few songs have. You see, this week I feel terribly afraid. I have some serious changes happening in my life and some scary bridges to cross. Sometimes its easy to forget that I have the God of the universe holding my hand and walking me through all of it.

But He is. And this song was just the kick in the pants I needed to remember that. It inspired me. So I edited a picture with my favorite words from the whole song.

A tad on the sappy side, I'll admit. But the words were too perfect and my inspiration too great to pass this up.

Sometimes it feels like I am following God to ends of the galaxy. And, in a way, thats terrifying. But its also terribly exciting. Because already God has done so many things for me. He's brought me closer to Him. He's brought me a Meg. And now, He's leading me to a place I never thought I'd go, to do something I never thought I'd do. But He's never been wrong before. And I doubt He'd start now.

So my only hope is to grip my Savior's hand tighter than anything else. And everything will work out better than I could have ever dreamed. I can't wait.

Artiste

Today, I created art. This art had meaning in my very heart. But none of the bystanders took notice. Or even cared. This saddened me. So I took a picture and now I'll explain it to everyone.

As you can see, this is brilliant. Each fingerstroke had a purpose. And they were all eloquently placed. Everything is different then its actual color. The tree trunk, the clouds, the grass, the sun. Everything. Except for the sky and the leaves on the tree.

There's a reason for that. The leaves represent...

You don't care, do you? No? Then I guess I won't say. It'll be my little secret.

Of Allergies, Greek Mythology, Rhythm, Guatemala, Wizardy, and the name "Dewayne"

My brain works in funny ways. This song is proof of that. I wrote it. Enjoy.

Of Allergies, Greek Mythology, Rhythm, Guatemala, Wizardry, and the name "Dewayne"

I'd ask you

To excuse

My constant sneezing

But I can't seem

To get past all this wheezing

Long enough to say what needs to be said

It doesn't help

That its feels like a Titan

Stomped on my head

This dander and pollen

Im inhaling

Turned me from standing

Into fallen

But at the very least

I'm not quite Guatemalan

(Oh! Not quite Guatemalan)

I'd get a burst of adrenaline

Far beyond comparison

If I were Central American

Then my lack of rhythm

Would become

Oddly unbecoming

And impossible to explain

Which would cause my fear

To remain

And so scared would I be

I'd have to change my name

To some variation of "Dewayne"

Which, of course,

Would bring to mind

So many questions

That the previous

Would seem but fourths

They'd shower me

With inquiry

Which would, in turn,

Force me

To go on Reality TV

And announce my history

Somewhat bitterly

But it won't be trickery

Not even inwardly

When I begin to practice wizardry

To deal with my misery

Years later

I'll discover

A brand-new magic drug

With a clever slogan

Sold by a handsome spokesman

Who goes by the name of "Nolan"

The miracle medicine

Will do its job

And I'll be left

WIth what I sought

Only to realize

Its not what I want

And I'll miss my allergies

Once I only have memories

And the name "Dewayne"

Yeah...Im not sure about me either...



Goodbye Fish

(Note: This post was written with this song playing in the background. I think it fits Tunnel and the post is better if its read that way. Besides, its a beautiful song from a fantastic movie.)

I am deeply regretful. There was once a fish of such a bright, shining orange hue that he appeared to be light itself. And, due to my jesting, he probably never knew that I was quite fond of him. But I was. Sure, I acted jealous of him. And, I guess, I kind of was. That little fish had Meg's attention and adoration in such a way that it gave me a squirmy feeling inside. Even if he was of a different species.

But the truth is, he was my Meg's son. And he made her very happy. And for that, I must thank him. Plus, he was pretty cute. I had actually planned on adopting him. Maybe its too late for that now.

If I can get the permission from his mother, I would like to start writing Tunnel into every story I write. That way, if my ramblings ever become famous, so will that adorable little fish.

I want Tunnel to know that the brief period he spent in my life shall not be forgotten. Believe it or not, I actually loved him.

R.I.A. Tunnel. (That's Rest In Awesomeness, for those curious.)

Sincerely,
A Saddened Nate

P.S. Im just sorry I never got to sing "Goodbye Fish" to him. Now, I'll have to compose it in honor of him.

Chivalry isn't dead...its a zombie.

(I would like to apologize beforehand. I'm terribly sorry for the ensuing rant.)

Yes. You read that right. Chivalry is an undead, slobbering, brain-munching zombie. And this is one zombie apocalypse where chainsaws and machetes won't be of much use...

*thinks about it*

Then again...

*shakes head*

No... I will resist the urge...

Must resist...

Resist...

Resist...

*sighs*

I was cleaning the "Your Highness" theater when this realization whacked me upside the head. Nevermind the completely vulgar parts and sketchiness of the movie, what upsets me most is the mockery of once prevalent chivalry. Its not a dying art form. Its been dead for a long time. Sure, a shadow-like wraith of it still haunts our society here and there, but mostly it has been forgotten.

Let me explain what I mean. After the movie, a small group of college aged kids were goofing off. On of the males hopped over the wall and dropped down the 8 feet instead of taking the stairs. What, you ask, is chivalrous about that? Not a whole lot. Especially considering his girlfriend told him not to. But it brought a thought to my mind.

Our sin-saturated culture today is telling us males that we are supposed to be animals. Both in the scientific sense and in the behavioral sense. We're told that real men are to have sex as often as possible, with as many females as possible, and that in the lulls that we should be thinking about it. We're told (subliminally) that women are things, mere objects for our amusement. We're told that all of our energy should be put to pleasure and excitement and risking bodily harm. And that our success is proven by the car we drive, the women we date, and our time spent at the gym.

And we've almost bought every single word. Almost.

I firmly believe that all men still have the chivalrous part of their brains intact. Its just been dulled, forced into submissive silence, or perverted to some unintended use. Take this ledge-leaping guy, for instance. I believe that the part of his brain that made him decide that dropping down would look cool and impressive in front of his girlfriend (and thus, was a good idea) was the same part that would entice men to go to war for prospective partners centuries ago. But in our culture that impulse doesn't have the same outlet. So we have to find other means of proving to females our worthiness.

And we do it by being jerks. I'll confess I've been guilty of it as much as every other guy. The temptation to treat every single thing I do as a way to impress Meg is a huge one for me. I'd love to have her in awe of my masculinity and toughness. But that's missing the point. (And never going to happen...) She doesn't love me (or not love me) because I can (or can't) do 100 push-ups. She doesn't love me (or not love me) because I do (or don't) drive a super, amazing car.

She loves me because I make her laugh. And because I have a lot in common with her. And because I'd walk for miles in the rain just to hand-deliver a letter if the Internet dropped out of existence and I couldn't drive. She loves me because I love her. And because I love God.


So maybe chivalry is polluted and undead. But there's still hope for it. And its hope lies in the male population of Planet Earth realizing that there are other ways to deal with the urge to impress. Its quite simple, really. We just need to spend less time fighting for our own honor, and more time fighting for other's.

My Second Love (Bacon Chauffeurs)

On the day that is yesterday. I was speaking to a friend of mine. One who goes by the title of "Bacon-Buddy." I jokingly said I should write a song about bacon. He said I should. So like the good bacon-buddy that I am, I did. And here it is.

My Second Love (Bacon Chauffeurs)

There is a meat

And if I'm not mistaken

Without it

I would be incomplete

Because it

Oh it is my bacon

Oh Bacon!

You're my second love

Its you I dream of

When Im not

Dreaming of her

Oh! I'd buy you a yacht

And be your chauffeur

Free of charge

Since I'll be a large

Bacon connoisseur

My love has grown

For your unrivaled taste

But its not quite alone

As its joined

By my expanding waist

Your greatness

Is everlasting

And from your tastiness

I won't be fasting

Oh Bacon!

You're my second love

Its you I dream of

When Im not

Dreaming of her

Oh! I'd buy you a yacht

And be your chauffeur

Free of charge

Since I'll be a large

Bacon connoisseur

At some point I will be writing out the music for this. And I'll post it here, but until then this is all you get.

-Hi_am The Nate

P.S. Feel free to show this to Lewis, if he doesn't believe that I did it.



"So help me, Waldo! If you don't back away slowly right this INSTANT, I will bury a post-it note inside EACH nostril!"

Yeah, I know. Right now your probably fighting off tears at that little guy's sheer adorableosity. (Brand new word. Be amazed.) Maybe you're saying something like, "AWWWWWWW...I just want to hug him!" If you are, then be afraid. He has you right where he wants you. Or maybe you're saying, "EEEEEEKKKKKKKK!!!!" If you are, then be EVEN MORE AFRAID.

What you probably are unaware of, is that he (yes, that lil guy) is a criminal mastermind and a savage murderer. With my very own eyes, I wittnessed him picking on the other little mice. Probably because they called him cute. So, I wouldn't if I were you. Also, the only thing that sets him off quicker than that is when people scream near him. Take my advice and don't try it. And whatever you do, don't ask him where he hides the poison-tipped battle ax in his fur. Its a dreadfully secret place and he WILL kill you for asking.

Dear Jeeves - Again

I guess its time to do this again. With this one as with the last, please refrain from inquiring as to the identity of this Jeeves. I shan't be giving the slightest bit of a hint. Honestly, this is just an excuse to say things to people without them knowing. I'm not sure if it will help, but I feel like I'll explode if I don't. So here we go. Confusing everyone who reads this and getting these weights off my chest.

Dear Jeeves,
I can't help but feel a teeny bit jealous of you. Maybe its petty and immature. This won't make sense, but I having this sinking feeling that if a few situational details were different I'd be behind you in every conceivable area. I honestly don't know why our lives have turned out the way they have. And so, I think I'll just continue along on my merry little way and pray you don't ever get the urge to show just how much I pale in comparison.

Sincerely,
Me

Confessions of a Partial Hipster and a Complete Wuss (but not a Catholic one) Part 2

Yesterday, I explained the hipster in me. It isn't something I'm particularily proud of. But admitting you have a problem is the first step.

Today I shall continue with yet another confession. I am a wuss.

But not a catholic wuss as some people have suggested. *rolls eyes at guy who is completely ignorant of, and most likely apathetic towards denominations of the Christian church*

I don't really have much to explain here. You all should know what "wuss" means. And I am one. I can actually count on one hand the number of times I've gotten into a physical altercation that wasn't just rough housing. And all of those were with Josh. Maybe that makes me a wimp. Or maybe its my tendency to run away when things start biting a little deeper than I would like.

*shrugs*

Confessions of a Partial Hipster and a Complete Wuss (but not a Catholic one) Part 1

(Someone said my posts have been getting shorter lately. *glares in their direction* So I changed that.)

Hello there. Welcome to my world. My messed-up, crazy, color-infused world. First off, let me get right to the point in a way that a spear with a jetpack would be jealous of. I am a hipster. Partially.

No, I didn't say hippie. And thats certainly not what I meant. Its "Hipster." If you don't know what a hipster is, I will provide a nifty list of what makes a hipster a hipster. Complete with some useful comments on whether or not each specific thing applies to me.

A List of Hipster Traits

- Quirky glasses, generally over-sized, neon, or just plain nerdy. (Check. I have some nerdy, Clark Kent-ish glasses)

- Skinny jeans (NO. WAY. JOSE.)

- Mismatched or bizarre clothing choices. (Kind of. I have been known to wear an odd tie or two.)

- Plaid clothing (CHECK. I love my plaid shirt.)

- Wildly liberal (Nope. Not at all. I'm a rare breed: the Conservative hipster. I guess that makes me REALLY hipster.)

- Snobbishness or Know-it-all-itis. (I like to think I have neither of those diseases, but I might be mistaken.)

- An unusual taste in music, mostly revolving around a great passion for Indie music. (Here is my greatest hipster quality. I love unknown, indie music. Its the best. Although Im not a complete indie snob. I listen to a fair amount of mainstream stuff, too. But only the really good mainstream stuff.)

-They use "Helvetica" exclusively as their font. (*looks guilty*)

-They are filthy, stinkin' rich... (Not really, no.)

-...Yet act homeless. (I'm not gonna lie. I've been tempted.)

Those are a few of the things that people identify as "hipster." But that's not exactly a definition. So I will define it as best as I can.

"Hipsters are a group of people devoted to not belonging to a specific group." -Me

(What's that? That's ironic, you say? Yes, well, they like that too.)

Which is why it can be argued that no true hipster likes to be called one. It goes against everything they (we) stand for. On the other hand, since most people don't like hipsters, then those who do are truly counter-cultural and therefore the "real" hipsters.



There's just one problem. The only people who really like hipsters are the "poser" hipsters. Which makes the group that is being counter-cultural to the counter-cultural sub-culture of Hipsterism by following those who refuse to follow anyone, the only real Hipsters after all. Confused yet? Yeah well so is everyone else. This is what happens when a bunch of people against groups accidentally create their very own.



Im not entirely a hipster. Or at least thats what I tell myself to help me sleep at night. I like to think that the weird, quirky things I do are me being me. Only time will tell. If I stay this way long after Hipsterism is just a brief, humorous side-note in history text books, then we'll know it was genuine. And I'll be looked upon with disdain. And thats how it was always meant to be.

(To Be Continued...)

Greet My Monday

Yes. Yes, I know. Its still Sunday. But its late Sunday night. My weekend of working is finished and my few days of enjoyment are about to begin. I must be insane but Monday is my favorite day of the week. Mostly because I usually have my school work finished days before. And I get to spend it with my best friend.

So as short as this is, I just wanted to show my appreciation for the day of the Mons.

Dear Jeeves - The First of Many

Dear Jeeves,

I understand now. I'm sorry. Actually, if I had to hazard a guess, I'd say that I'm just beginning to understand. Someday I'll comprehend it all the more. But as of now, I can't be frustrated with you. It all makes sense.

Sincerely,
Hi_am The Nate

(Confused? Thats ok. Don't bother inquiring as to the identity of this specific "Jeeves." I plan on going to my grave without having told a soul. Except for maybe the person who is "Jeeves." I haven't decided on that one. I promise to have a somewhat less cryptic post on the morrow.)

Some Famous Stalkers of Mine

I have several topics vying for my attention this week. But, I had to choose one. So I chose this. If this bores you, then merely wait a day or two. I promise to mock myself. And that shall be fun for everyone involved.

I am convinced of something unusual. Im being stalked. Everything I do is being watched. My very mind is being invaded. By two people you may have heard of. The culprits are Matt Thiessen and Adam Young.

They are, as you can probably guess, famous musicians. That is not the root of my suspicion. Rather, it is the fact that nearly all of their songs fit my life to such a degree that it is frightening. The only reasonable explanation is that they are stalking me and reading my mind.

I suspect that this is a result of a serious lack of inspiration on their end. So they steal from my life and thoughts. If any of you happen to see either of them, please tell them I say hi and that Im on to them. I know what they're doing. And they won't get away with it.

If you don't believe me, please listen to the following songs:

Relient K Songs

I So Hate Consequences

When I Go Down

More Than Useless

Getting Into You

17 Magazine

Sahara

Candlelight

Who I Am Hates Who I've Been

Im Taking You With Me

Adam Young Songs

Rainbow Veins

This Is The Future

The Bird And The Worm

Vanilla Twilight

Tidal Wave

Setting Sail

Orange

Grape

Sunburn

To The Sky

Steady As She Goes

A Little Opera Goes A Long Way

Its clear. They know me too well. In fact they are probably watching me right now.

-Hi_am The Nate

I will not use the lette_ "_" on the day that is today. Ok maybe I won't type it. On my blog. Well...In this blog post... I won't type the lette_ "_" in this blog post! *sighs* It could use some wo_k.

Today, I p_otest. I'm p_otesting the ove_use of the lette_ "_". In my opinion, it gets fa_ too much of the spotlight. It slips into ou_ language without us even noticing. That ends today. I'm calling attention to its blatant takeove_ of ou_ society. And so help me f_ench f_ies! I will defeat this blemish on the softly glowing and f_eshly cleansed image of ou_ cultu_al face. It is an hono_ and one I _elish.

This is usually the pa_t whe_e I would justify my zany, qui_ky insanity with an explanation. But I _eally don't have one. I me_ely thought it would be a fun thing to do. But as fa_ as challenges go, it wasn't all that difficult. So I added a little ext_a challenge. Fo_ those paying supe_ close attention, you may have noticed that I've used eve_y othe_ lette_ in the alphabet except fo_ "_". It wasn't all that ha_d eithe_. It just makes me feel a little bette_ about myself.

-Hi_am The Nate

Baffling!

(Do yourself a favor and listen to this song whilst reading this blog post. Its sappy and fitting.)

I just don't get it. How can one person so amazing and incredible and awesome, not see that all those things are inside of them? You see, I'm speaking of my best friend in the whole wide world. She's the best. She's funny, beautiful, smart, loving, adorable, and she understands (and loves) more of me than anyone else does.

She's Meg. (I've mentioned her a few billion times already.) My Meg. I've provided the picture that is situated below to prove my point on the beautiful and adorable areas.

Do you see what I mean? I know, right? Well, she doesn't see it. This saddens me. On numerous occasions when I tried to convince her of her awesomeness, she accused me of being blind or insane.

Well, for once this blog has a purpose. And its purpose is this: To announce her amazingness for all the world to see. Believe me. Its more than worth it.

My Best Friend, Meg, is the most amazing, sweet (I know what you thought, Meg. And that's a tad immature.) crazy, and adorable best friend/girlfriend/Queen a guy could ask for. Even though he, of the admittedly enormous imagination, could never have even dreamt to ask for such a one as she.

Im merely baffled that she doesn't see what I see.

And this is what happens when philosophical thoughts, too much time on my hands, and exhaustion all converge in my brain.

Last night I wrote a song. In short, it is about the three things on my mind lately. I know they seem like distinct and seperate thoughts, but I promise you they're all related in my head. In a weird way. Don't ask.

Sincerely, Me

Dear Dreams

Please follow me

Into the deep and dark abyss

So aptly

Called "reality"

And Dear Love

Please tell me

Where are you from?

And where did your relatives

fly off to?

Now that they seem

So relatively far away

And finally

Dear Toe Hair

I find it

Slightly unfair
That not one song

Has been written

About you

So let me change that

And please don't be confused

This song was always about you

You aren't a side-note

To me

Im fairly certain

You posess the ability

To float

And thats hardly

An easy feat

Plus...

You live on my feeeeeeeeeet

Sincerely,

Me

Yeah...so...thats pretty much it. Believe it or not it makes sense to me.

"Boil em, Mash em, Stick em in a stew." -Samwise Gamgee

To my horror, I discovered that today is Tater Day. Not as in regular, nice, all-around average potatoes. Its a day that celebrates the most acursed vegetable ever to exist: Sweet Potatoes.

I honestly can't see why anyone eats them of their own free will. They look gross, taste gross, feel gross, and smell gross. The only redeeming qualities I could imagine are A. Vitamins. (To that I say, vitamins shmitavins. They make these really cool things now. They're called vitamins that you swallow. And they don't taste like a potato thats been dipped in rabbits blood and left outside to rot.) and B. I've heard they make excellent insulation in the arctic regions of the earth. Seriously, there's a whole documentary on it that PBS did back in '07. In fact, some companies even install the Sweet Potato Insulation (Or Y.A.M. as they like to call it. Its short for Yams And Magic.) the way it was done in Norway thousands of years ago. The one significant disclaimer is that the pungent smell erases your entire ability to smell other things in about a week. Details, really.

I May or May Not Have Screamed Like a Little Girl Over a Nightmare That The Afforementioned Little Girl Would Have Laughed At.

Sometimes I don't know why I do things. Like drinking a mix of orange juice and ginger ale RIGHT before bed knowing full-well I'd be having crazy dreams all night. I thought it was a good idea at the time.

Until the plant started attacking me. I suppose I should admit something publicly. Plants freak me out. Well, not all plants. Moving plants. Venus Fly Traps, Sunflowers, Mutant Security Guard/ Man-Eating Plant hybrids. They terrify me. And they can all rot in a very deep hole for all I care.

If this fear seems irrational, you should hear about my other ones. The only thing that makes a weird version of Botanophobia seem like a rational fear is the fear of standing up noodles. Im fairly certain there's no Latin name for that.

Phineas, Philadelphia, Ferb and Fluxx. (Thats the first ever transitional alliteration.)

Sometimes, you just need to be goofy. Take last night. My youngest male sibling and I sat up until nearly 1 watching Phineas and Ferb. And playing Pirate Fluxx. It was quite fun. We were over-tired and therefore a bit giddy. Plus, I won both games we played. That went a long way to cementing the whole experience as a "good" one in my head.

Everyone should try it sometime. Grab your youngest male sibling, Pirate Fluxx, and some Phineas and Ferb DVDs. Seriously. Go have fun.

The Disney Channel called...They want their pathetic attempt at humor back.

What? What was that? A cheap shot at a TV station centering around children's entertainment? Not funny, you say? Well, frankly, Im not surprised. I've been getting that feeling a lot lately.

Yes, yes, I know. The title is an over-used joke. I've probably bored everyone to sleep anyway. No one will notice. After all, wit's all been done before, right? Including that, you say? Of course, it has. *hangs head*

I'd love to give up now. I'd love to stop trying to coax smiles out of everyone around me. I'm losing their attention anyway. There's always someone more interesting. It feels like I'm telling jokes to myself in an empty room. It feels hollow. Like my audience has moved on to bigger and better things.

But I can't stop. As shallow as it sounds, I rather liked the attention. And I guess I can't blame anyone. I'll admit it. There is always someone more amusing. Such is life. Talents abandon us to the worst kind of desolation, while we watch someone else stand in our old spotlight.

It'll be a jarring transition going back to amusing just myself. But maybe a nice one. Sure, its quiet and lonely laughing alone, but sometimes thats the most fun. Starting now, I'm shifting the focus from this blog being things I think will be amusing to those brave enough to read it, to things I find amusing. (Not that my posts didn't amuse me at all. The focus was just different. I wouldn't post things I thought only I would get.) And who knows! Maybe I won't be the only one to laugh. We shall see, Stephen. We shall see.

--Hiram The Nate