lost my touch

I'd say, since I lost my car, I lost my touch to finding good music, lol. Who knew both factors were dependent on each other.

Anyways, the blogger 'laughinginthefaceofgod.blogs.com' always has some gnarly beats (yeah, I said gnarly .. what U gonna do about it?) with almost every post he does. And I must say, AWESOME. His latest, a rave beat remix of 'Bang Bang'. For those who don't know, its the song that plays in the beginning of Taratino's Kill Bill Vol. 1 ! Plus, if you don't know ... thats just sad. (yeah, I said your sad, get over it...).

To the point, I remember a time when I would venture to the nearest city and go to these all night rave clubs. Of course I'm an alcoholic so all the dancing I would do would burn out my buzz from the cases of beer I drank before hand. The bouncers either never noticed, or never cared. But apparently, those who really know me are the only ones who can tell when I'm drunk, so who knows? N E Ways, this was a time in my life (oh god, I'm 23 three and I'm already referring to 'times in my life' *rolls eyes*) when I would have all the tunes. Sure not all the tunes that everyone loved, just those that I loved. And I found some pretty gnarly beats myself. But, time went on ... money ran out ... and I couldn't venture to the nearest city as much as I wanted. So cd's went missing (like socks in the dryer, inevitable and unexplainable) and so and behold, here I am finding new beats that would have come to me naturally.

I'm 23 and I'm already missing my youth. Good god I have to get out of these small towns. Someone, please save me.

"Home Life" - John Mayer

"I think I'm gonna stay home
Have myselfa home life
Sitting in the slow-mo
And listening to the daylight
I am not a nomad
I am not a rocket man
I was born a housecat
By the slight of my mother's hand

I want to live in the center of a circle
I want to live on the side of a square
I used to be in my M-Z now
You'll never find me cause my name isn't there

Home life
Been holding out for the home life
My whole life

I want to see the end game
I want to learn her last name
Finish on a Friday
And sit in traffic on the highway
See, I refuse to believe
That my life's gonna be
A string of incompletes
Never to lead me to anything remotely close to a home life

Been holding out for the home life
My whole life

I can tell you this much
I will marry just once
And if it doesn't work out
Giver her half my stuff
It's fine with me
We said eternity
And I will go to my grave
With the life that I gave
Not just some melody line
On a radio wave
It dissipates
And soon evaporates
But home life doesn't change

I want to live in the center of a circle
I want to live on the side of a square
I'd love to walk to where we both can talk but
I've got to leave you cause my ride is here

And my Home Life
You take the home life
You keep the home life
I'll come back for the home life
I promise

Home life, I promise.

Life

Home Life

Home Life"

FUG IT ALL

I f!ckin hate small towns ... and small citys for that matter. There seems to be an unspoken rule to blend in, somehow, to be apart of something. There's always a HUGE clique problem. YEAH, I said it, PROBLEM! WHY they fuggin need to be a part of something. Why can't we all be original? (if thats even possible?!)

Nah, thats not what I'm hattin right now. And the questions are more directed to me than to anyone one else. Nevertheless, the questions still stand.

What do I have a need to be somewhere I belong? A place where I fit in? I say F!CK IT ALL because around here, there is no such clique. Sure, people who get to know me think I'm this great guy, one whose fun to be around .... but I'M F!CKED UP! I'm seriously messed in the head! And thats always something that everyone will NEVER know. And thats why I hate 'em.

Ok, maybe hate is too strong of a word. Cause honestly, if they asked for help, I would help them. I just hate their need to 'belong' somewhere. Why? Because they can find it, they have it, whereas I don't.

I've attempted to fit it everywhere I went. Everywhere I was, I tried to do this and be content with it (whether it be actions, talk, projects, behaviour), but I just never was. And truth be told, I fear I had altered myself so much in the past, that I don't know who I am on a personal level. I don't know what my interests are, let alone know how to express them. I'm in college and have no idea where to do go. And most of it is because I'm using school as an escape mechanism, I'm here to get away and attempt to achieve something bigger. But, I'm a different person now. For I used to be here to achieve something bigger for other people, to gain praise and a reputation. But now, I see that means nothing. I want something for me, and I don't think I can get it here. Why? Cause I've been here for four years ... and nothing. No close groups of friends. No recommendations ... no clue.

All I do know is that in this world, there is no one set of rules and policies or one set of knowledge to follow. Instead there is an intermingled web of systems that each person on their own must crawl through. In this one world, there is an infinite amount of realities. I just need to find which one is mine. I need to stop, and see it.

sCreW iT !!

Fug it! Fug It All!!!!!

Not the way I wanted to do it ... but .....

It never works out the way you want it too. And tv has jaded me so much that everything I expect it usually derived from it (damn media, yet I love ya so much, lol).

Anyways, I came out to my mom. Through an email, lol. It definately was not the way I wanted to do it. I always beleived that anything expressed in person through spoken word always held value. But I guess, its the end result that matters.

Nevertheless, heres what happened. I received a phone call yesterday from my sister, they left a message in my phone. And since can't call long distance (I'm still a broke ass student), I emailed my mom asking what they called for. Anyways, apparently they received word from a friend of mine that I was almost in a fight while at a drinking party back home. What happened was people approached me and threaten me because just because I'm gay. (there was a few of them and one of me, ooohh how tough they are needing to approach me in a group *note my extreme sarcasm on the "ooooh"*) Anyways, I never told the family about it on account that I hadn't told them I was gay yet, and besides, this was in my home town in which I don't even live at anymore. But, a female friend of mine as there, and I'm supposing she told.

So, since I asked why they called, and this lead to that incident and also lead to my brother telling my mom to talk to me about my "problems" (he and I have issues with each other, and always will have issues with each other). She wanted to know why the incident happend. (remind you, this is all through email) .... well, I'm here at the college, studying for two final exams I have for tomorrow. And now, I have to deal with this. I had always wanted to tell my mom in person. Or at least be there when she read a letter I wrote. But I know my mind, college is important right now, and I need to get at it. But when something big gets in the way my mind will usually focus on that for LOONG periods of time until its settled or casually floated out of my mind. Well, I don't have time to wait, and I need to deal with it pronto (did I just say pronto?!) if I'm going to pass this exam. So I figured "shit, might as well."

I couldn't focus for the next few hours, and so I decided to email the letter I wrote (it was originally typed out). And TAA DAA .. thats how it happened. My mom now knows, and apparently has had an inkling about it for some time now. I knew she would understand, but I must admit fear was taking over since I know she's gettin heavy on religion. The "talk" that I was waiting for, happened through an email.

Thats so unlike television.

HOLY CRAP

Some friends of mine came up to see me before my big move (yet another) to hang and chill and for some of them, to actually get out of the house and go to a club. (two of them are now mothers and have families to look after) We've all been best friends since high school, and in the past few years, we've grown apart. And so this past saturday night, was da Bomb. And that can be because they were simply there.

but anyways, to the point, we were all going on and on about what was new in our lives. I came out to the last best friend who didn't know (there was simply no opportune time in past), and she tells me she's pregnant again. One of the other best friends shows me her new ride, and the other tells me she may move to Vancouver. (There's four of us in total) So it was a night full of surprises. BUT, the biggest surprise was that they all had no idea what a Blog was. OHMIGOD!

I told them I was working on two projects which were my blog sites. Damn was I dumbfounded when they all asked "Whats a blog?" Now there's a conversation gone quickly.

And that got me thinking. Numerous thoughts really, so much I can't organise them. But here are some questions that pop up. Is it a good thing that many people have blogs that relate to their private lives? Does it imply that one has no life if they are focused on their blogs on a daily basis? What does it mean when an individual has no idea what a blog is? And lastly, do I even care?

Meh, they're just thoughts.

Thank You

We all have certain people in mind who are special. And more than half the time, these certain people don't even realise how significantly they affected us. Just by being there, just by knowing them, we have changed.

Yesterday, I was fortunate enough to chat again with a certain guy who has helped me so much, that he will always be in my mind. At a time when I was at my worst, I met him. And I now know why I was supposed to meet him, which is very rare. Because a lot of people I meet, I end up asking the universe why is it that I was suppose to meet them; that it makes no sense as to why I'm speaking or interacting with this person. But with this guy, I look back and I know why. He has changed me for the better. He has helped me, and I don't know how, but he has helped me become a better person just by being there. And I'm not speaking in the sense of being a better person for everyone else, but instead a better person to myself. And I thank him for that. I ask the universe (or God, or whoever/whatever grants us miracles and allows us to be) to bless him with serenity, and peace, and love. He deserves it.

NEW PROJECT

Because I have limited resources, this blog is not completely turning into what I would like it too. So, I've began a new blog with a new mission. The title should be a main give away as to what its all about.

http://findingursexualself.blogspot.com "Its not Sex Education, its Sexual Education"

I hope that someday, I can post pics that way this blog and the other I've created can become even more interesting. Please let me know what you think.

My Kind of Guy

I've only ever dated one guy, and that only lasted two dates. I liked the guy, but he wasn't really my type. I don't know what my type is ... but I just felt that he wasn't it. And that got me to thinking, What Is My Type?

Only one word comes to mind, Ruff Guff. Ruff, scruffy looking guys, with stuble and and bit of meat on their bones. I was never really into the twink's of the world, no offense to anyone. But anyone my sister can beat up, just doesn't cut it for me. If my sister is more manly that anyone I'll be dating ... then I know its not going to work out. And I'm not saying that the last (and only at the moment) guy I dated was a twink or any less of a man. He just wasn't my type. By the way, my sister is 15 yrs old.

But, to the point. Here is what I see.

• Short almost buzzed cut hair.
• Dirty blonde or brunette (either or).
• Tall, about 6'0-6'4.
• Muscular (not too muscular, but lean and more than average).
• I'm crazy about goatees and stuble.
• A guy who loves movies just a much as I do. (here's an example, Quenton Tarantino has been inspired by Akira Kirosawa [a japanese director who passed away just recently] and that can be seen by the cinematography used, but more so found in the Kill Bill series; especially to what "Bill" is watching on the television when he and the Bride finally meet and engage in their showdown).

Okay, doesn't have to be a cinemaphile like I am. But a mere interest in movies would be great.

• Must at least like music in relation to the likes of "Theory of a Deadman" or any R&B hits, not just Briteny Spears, Madonna and Cher.
• Oh, and he can play the guitar (and sing).
• Definate music related soul.

Okay, now thats all I see.

hmmmm ... lets see if the universe will let me meet such a match.

And with this in mind, I've decided to set aside on the side bar of this page, a section called Ruff Guff. Here I will place profiles of guys that I definately like, and they may be from the same blogs I frequent on a daily basis. Maybe when I'm part way through with this I can see what my type is.

time passed ... should I erase the last two posts?

So time has passed ... and with a different state of mind, I'm able to read my last two posts. And god, all I can say is 'DAMN I'M A FUGGIN DRAMA QUEEN!' lol ... but hey, no one's perfect.

sr: And yet another ....

Damn! Coming across these old writings of mine are making me wonder if I ever had any fun in the past. Not literally, for I know I did and I have the friends (although back home and not here with me) to prove it. But like I said, one cannot escape the realities of the past. And so, here's another writing .....

It was 12:30pm. Normally I would be at the college, just getting out of my Film class. But today, I had decided not to go. Instead, I was at home, eating my breakfast at lunchtime.
That time of day, there’s usually nothing exciting on TV, just reruns of last decades top TV programs. Good thing for me though, for they’re programs I grew up watching. I turn on the television to channel forty, and just my luck, Fresh Prince of Bel Air is on, Wil Smith’s debut to fame. I remember back in the day, my brothers and sisters and I could rely on the Bank’s family for a good laugh. We would even recite the entire rap intro complete with tone and all. (lame, I know, but we were young and mere country kids) Even my parents got in on the laughter from time to time. But not today. Today, it was just me, and today the show would stir up issues inside me. The goody-two-shoe antics of Charlton Banks and Hilary’s snobbish ways were not enough to make me laugh. Instead I felt the message of the show.
Anyone whose a fan of the show, knows that Wil goes to live with his aunt and uncle in Bel Air to escape the streets of Philadelphia. Now this isn’t the message I was talking about. Instead, in this specific episode, Wil’s estranged father suddenly shows up after 14 years of nothing. No phone call, no letter, just one day Wil’s father appears at his work and says hi. In summary, they get together, after a brief hesitance Wil gives his father a chance, and everything seems to be going fine as they are about to spend an entire summer together. Until Wil’s father bails and leave’s Wil broken hearted.
It was the moments at the end of the episode that struck a chord in my heart. Wil stands in the living room, pretending to be fine with what has just happened. Even says to his uncle, a witness to the event, that he has gotten along fine without his father. He learned to shave on his own, play ball on his own, pretty much learned to do everything on his own. And he ends it with a question, “Why doesn’t he want me?” By this time, I was in tears myself. For there I sat, relating everything Wil has just said inside my head. For I too am a college student, and I too also learned to shave alone, play ball alone, pretty much take care of myself, alone.
Knowing fully well it was just a TV show, I got up off the couch and continued on my day. But that show had taken its toll on me. By the time my next class rolled around, I had no desire to attend. Instead, I had gone to Chapter’s to read the latest magazines. I was flipping through the latest edition of Men’s Health, and an article caught my attention. Single fathers and their children who live with their mothers. (I wish I can remember the exact title, but at this time I cannot). There was one line that fully caught my attention. “Any child who has gone through, or is going through a divorce, is not okay.” How true that was, because here I sit, 10 years after my parents separation and it still effects me to this day.

sr: Where I always End Up

I came across an old writing of mine. When I feel depression lingering in my head, writing is what I do. Originally what I'm supposed to do with the writings is burn them, but I actually went and typed them out for my typing is getting to the point that its a fast as my thinking. So I saved it, and forgot about it until just finding it at this moment. Lately I've been forgetting where my mind used to be, and can still go. I supposed thats a good thing. But I must acknowledge it. The harsh realities of that past cannot be forgotten, but at the same time they are not in control. I know most of you don't care. (of whatever readers I have) But, I ain't sharing for you, in fact its for me I'm doing this. To speak of it freely and candidly means its no longer in power to control, or at the very least is about to lose that power. And for those avid readers I may have, "sr:" in the title heading is now going to stand for "Serious", just so you know what you may read before you actually read it. And so, here it is ...

I don’t know if it’s a place where I always end up, or a place I never left. All I know is that is where I am. My childhood home; and its empty. There are no chairs, no pictures, no books, no shelves, no aroma of freshly cooked food, not even a single spec of dust on the tile floor. I’m the only one there, in the vast, bare living room, glaring out the wall size window. The tiles on the floor are cold, as is the air that fills the room. It’s a dream, or a vision, or simply a thought, but nevertheless it’s where I am, always. Sometimes I see a single tear drip from my eye as I glare at the outside world. Other times, I’m in a rage, screaming, yelling; throwing myself about like a madman. But I’m always seeing myself. I’m never actually a part of what I see. Never actually feeling what at that moment, I see.
It’s an image so vivid, that one thought of it blocks out all voices, sounds, temperatures of the real word I’m engaged in, completely. No sense of reality prevails this dream, this vision, this thought. It consumes me whole like a blackhole for the universe that is the mind. It’s an image, that although it’s in my head, that when I think of it, it becomes my reality. I feel the cold floor, the damp air, the crushing sense of loneliness the dwells in that house, my house, my childhood home.
I don’t know if this is a place where I always end up, or a place I never left.

U see them, and they stick

You know, there are just those types of people out there that once you come across them, they stick in your head. And its not because of one simple tib bit that catches your eye and stays with you, its the whole package (and no, I'm not talking about 'that' package). You can never really pinpoint what it is you see, but something is there that makes that person very interesting.

And so, as per usual, surfing the net blog to blog, I've come across a guy who is very interesting. Now unfortunately, in his latest posting, he's reported that he's taking a break from the blog writing experience. And honestly, I hope he does come back so that I can some day find that faucet that I find so compelling. But nevertheless, heres the link, and judge for yourself ...

http://crash0628.blogspot.com/

3 DAYZ, 2 PAGES, 4 COURSES

At least I have a week left to study. Its been three days, and I'm been making attempts to study my ass off (something very rarely done). And thus far, I have 2 pages read in one book of the pluthora of texts I have to read. I"m trying to get my act together and raise my GPA and finish this term with SKY HIGH MARKS. So far, I'm barely marking the "average" range. Its very hard to do, especially when you suffer from depression from time to time (no offense to anyone, but I just thank god I'm not a manic).

But to the point, 3 days and 2 pages read. 2 pages. Omigod, thats just not cool for me. Three whole days, and I mean whole days, 10 am to 9 pm at night. I'm at the college library for entire days. Books and papers are laid out before me, but when I look at them, all I see is a blurred and greek looking language. And the funny thing is, even my own notes that I write myself look greek to me. hmmmm .... nah, I don't think I suffer from A.D.D. ... for one thing, none of the signs nor symptoms are there. I think I'm just lazy.

Motivation is hard to establish especially when you have no fuggin clue as to what your going to do with the degree in the first place. Screw it, I'll do it at home, and just go to the gym for now.

WHAT SHOULD I DO???

Alright, some serious sh!t now. I don't know how this happens, but I usually find myself in situations like this.

I have an older brother. He's 5 years older than me, and has four kids. For someone whose 5 years older than me, we look pretty damn similar. His girlfriend is currently in school, so he's the only one working for the family. His two oldest are kids from another girlfriend, and he takes care of them as much as he can (they live with their mother quite a distance aways). Anyways, Here's the situation ... my brother was caught speeding. And he has warrants out for him because of previous tickets AND he has no drivers licsence. So, he decides to use my name to the police and lies that he doesn't have any identification on him. If he told the truth, the police would know he's lying about being me.

Now, this isn't the first time he's ever done this. He's used my name with the police on numerous occasions, and I can gaurantee you that he's never paid any of the tickets he's gotten on my name. But, whats different this time, is that I actually had a warrant out for my arrest at that time. (I didn't pay a fine in time) And he got picked up for me .... but I must say that I TOLD him about this. He knew about this little factiod about me. And he still used my name.

Our mom, bailed him out the next day. And now he's saying he did me a favor. WTF?! Its not like I asked him too. And now I owe my mom for money she used to bail him out for unlawfully using my name. My business was my business, and would have stayed my business if he chose to deal with his.

And now, I have another speeding ticket for 150 bucks, and a demirit on MY liscence because of him. And to get it cleared from my name, means I have to go to the city he got pulled in, report that it wasn't me, and they'll check it out. Meaning, they'll investigate and find out he impersonated someone else. Okay, now thats obstruction of the law, yet another charge on his name, impersonating someone who isn't him, and I'm sure there's a charge for that, plus speeding and driving without a valid liscence, and he'll probably get picked up by the police for it. And this may in fact effect my mother as well, for she went to bail him out. I don't know if the police will charge my mom with anything at all.

I'm in school, full time, trying to get my degree. He's working, full time, taking care of his family. My mom, well, she just doesn't deserve sh!t like this. So what is one to do?

WHAT SHOULD I DO?

And the verdict is ...

NO, I'm not sore today. YAY!!!! But I for sure thought I would be,

3 month hiatus

Alright, I just got back from the gym. And I haven't been there for roughly 3 months. Ohmigod am I going to hurt tomorrow. I used to go every day, then that changed to every second day ... and so on and so on and so on. Suddenly, I look back and realise, I haven't been there for months. What the f*ck!?

So naturally, my original routine was harder to do, I actually dropped some weight in order to do the whole thing. And god do my legs hurt ... (Suck It Up Ya Sissy) ... yeah, thats my inner voice ... don't mind him, he's a b*tch at times ... (I SAID SUCK IT UP!)

Well, at least I'm back at the gym. Yes, at least I'm back at the gym.

"Hmmm Hmmm Good"

Now here I am, last days of classes "officially" were yesterday, but as you can see I partied that excuse last week. Oh well, hell I'll party cause the day ended in Y if I had too.

But so on and so forth, my moment of self-righteousness has past. But its good to know that some days my life is good enough for me.

But anywho ... today I'm merely surfing the net, blog to blog. I find that blogs are far more interesting than corporate websites in that with blogs you get a far more intimate experience with people than mere profiles ever give. Plus, their free. No dinero spent on the exclusive offers when all one wants to do is chat. And I find rants and raves and insults and inner commentaries far more interesting than anything else. Its always presented in a "take it or leave it" manner. And with that said ... I've come across another blogger who I find very interesting. He's a RUFF GUFF kind of guy, the epidemy of what I find gorgeous. And seems to bare a "take it or leave it" kind of mentality. But of course, I've never met him, so really I'm just judging and assuming on what I would like to expect. But nevertheless, he's definate eye candy *drool*. May I present ... you know, I actually don't know his name .... but here he is.

http://www.laughinginthefaceofgod.blogs.com/ And for someone whose blog is called "laughinginthefaceofgod" ... definately eye catching and interesting.

And to he ... I don't know you, I may never will. But GOD DAMN your hot. In the words of campbells soup ... "hmmm hmmm good"

"There Goes The World, And I'm Right In The Middle ..."

What’s with the fascination that our lives need to be extravagant and significant and story worthy that that mere mention of us will leave people we know and people who hear about us in awe? Why is it that every weekend we need to go out and have the best times of our lives only to work and build anticipation for the weekend throughout the week? Do we honestly need to go out EVERY weekend, attend EVERY party we can, drink EVERY drink that’s in front of us? Why is it that other people’s lives are more fascinating than our own? Why do we have this need to escape what is familiar?

I’m taking it that this rant is merely coming out of my need for something extravagant that I’m now beginning to feel with never come. There is absolutely nothing wrong with my life, and in fact, when I consider everything I’ve gone through and compare it to other people I know, I may just be the story I’m looking for. For one thing, I’m a suicidal survivor who’s found a purpose to live and is, out of habit, constantly searching for other reasons to live to the point that I can look around the world and see small beauties in everyday life. I’ve learned to live on my own since I was 12 years old when my entire family abandoned me so that they can all deal with their own depression. I’ve met God, or a God and I know my life is mine to live. I’ve learned pride at 14 years of age when a group of twenty-somethings lynched me and my cousin and whacked the back of my head with an aluminum bat (I thank God they mainly hit my shoulders and bottom portion of my neck, but it did result in memory loss for a number of hours) just because I was Native. I’ve survived a few car accidents without getting a single scratch on me which is amazing when you see the aftermath of the vehicles I was in. I’m always consistently an inch away from becoming a full blown alcoholic, but I never allow myself to get there. And no matter how scary a decision may be, I still take it full force and every step of the way.

So I may not go out every weekend or always have something to do. But I thank God, or whoever is up there, that I’m alive and that choices are always in my hand. I’m thankful that I can see, I can hear, I can touch, smell, and feel. For beauty is everywhere, as long as we choose to open our eyes. I'm finally beginning to see that The extravagant event I'm waiting for in my life ... IS my life.

Whoa ... I'm such a lightweight

Okay ... last day of classes have come and gone. And thats the last time I drink 4 pitchers of beer all to myself. Honestly. Its not like I have the hangover from hell the next day, in fact it was just the opposite, I felt great the next day. But of course, that could be because I had HOURS AND HOURS of sleep. I started drinking at 4pm, and was HAMMERED by 7pm, and then I crashed out. A whole evening GONE, cause I drank like there was no tomorrow, lol. Oh well, all nights worth remembering hardly ever go your way. But it was DA BOMB.

And now, here I am. Working on another paper. God it never ends. Last day of classes have come and gone, and here I am at the college library working on yet ANOTHER PAPER, ARGH! Oh well, like many people I speak too, "Its worth it in the end." Pft , like that helps me now.

Let me just rant here for a bit. I KNOW ITS WORTH IT IN THE END! HELL, THATS WHY I'M HERE IN THE FIRST PLACE, FOR THE END RESULT. YOUR ADVICE OF IT BEING WORTH IT IN THE END ISN'T HELPING ME OUT WITH MY STRUGGLES RIGHT NOW .... but nevertheless, thanks for reminding me of the light at the end of the tunnel which right now is nothing more then a mere speck. But thanks anyways ......

LAST DAY OF CLASSES

Another term, another year, DONE. Wow, I actually survived. School for me is very depressing, and the actual thought of just being here, in my state of mind these days, is just awe stiking. I don't know why I'm here, I don't know what I'm going to do with the degree I'm about to get (after about one or two more years). I don't even know why I'm in school in the first place, all I know is that I have the strongest feeling that if I weren't in school, then I'd be a drunk, working and living from pay check to pay check. And well, I KNOW I deserve better than that. Plus there's a whole world to see and experience. And I wanna see and experience it. And I ain't gonna get it without my education.

So, I may not know what I'm doing now, but at least I know its better than what I could be doing.

So, congrats to me for surviving yet another year. YAY!

My First Response ... YAY!!!

Ok ... humility rising. Ego boosting, since I don't really have any pics up or anything yet, I find this to be quit amazing. I have a response. YAY!!! :)

But anywho, it was asked "why don't I have a strong opinion about anything?" And that "it implies you don't beleive in anything". And to this I say, I DON'T! Nah, just kidding. I do .. beleive in stuff.

• I believe that when a hot guy passes by, I wanna jump his bone.
• I believe that when I throw something into the air, its bound to come back down eventually.
• I believe that when I step in front of a moving vehicle, it will stop, because if it doesn't it will hit me.
• I believe that the only thing I can know for sure is that I know nothing.
• I believe, I exist.
• I believe that mathematics is the same throughout the world.
• I believe that the Native's were the first to discover the New World, NOT Chris Columbus.

Funny stuff aside and the seriousness that is me, turned up a bit. I believe in a few things. I'm just not in the habit of actually stating them outloud. For when I do, its usually to friends who just don't care. And yes, they are still my friends, cause at least they're real with me.