I think this is the main factor which makes me different from the friends that are different to begin with.

It's funny. As a young boy I was the one with the rampant imagination, and love for logic. I loved numbers and science. I thought history was useless. I thought English was torture. Now. I've turned myself around. Though I'm still stuck with this mind of mine. I've become someone who has "a way with words." I've gone from being the person who could barely write a creative sentence for homework to someone who writes up a 9 page story in a couple of days. A story which I have gotten compliments on already.

And this too is terrible.

My friends. The ones that are closer to me. Well. I can't even really say that, now can I? They still understand me just as much as anyone else. They just happen to see a side of me with more radical ideas. But regardless. Those that know about my imagination, and my ability to write, are starting to kill me.

Every time I think about them now, all I can think of is pain. And it's fucking frustrating! These are people that want me around. That actively seek my presence. Yet at the same time, it's getting to the point where I have to brace myself to spend time with them.

They understand so little.

This is the difference. They want. They dream. They want to have a movie projected onto the silver screen. So what do they do? They flail at it. Without an idea, they pick up a camera and argue over artistic shots. They see a poet, and wish to have their words be just as inspiring. Without looking for inspiration, they grope!

 Let's write a story!

Let's write poetry!

Let's make a movie!

What's the story about? Let's make it about World War One, or Two. But we have to have it based around Classical Music?

What's the poetry going to be about? I don't know. Let's just write something!

What's the movie going to be about? I don't know. But I think I can get a cool shot from here?

It's all in the story! It's all in the idea! It's all in the experience and the emotions! Art the Mona Lisa wasn't painted just to be pretty.  Revolutions don't occur just because it adds ink to history books! They had reasons behind them. They had thought out plans. 

I've just gotten so tired of their dreaming. All they do is wish and wish. I wish too. But I feel as if the bear in hibernation, waiting for the time to come out. They are the wolves howling to the full moon.

I never write a story using myself as a direct character. Neither do I allow any of my friends to be in the story either. While characters can be given birth by their ideas, I wont copy their likeness because they want to be seen that way. Oh, I can easily write about how the three of us were caught up into world war one.

 I would be living in Spain, and instead of escaping to America, I decide in a fit of pride and idealism, learn English and go to England to enlist in the Army. Con would already be in England. Already in the military where I would meet him. From there, we head out to the front, which is in dire need of more men to die against Germany. This is where we'd meet up with the last, who would be fighting in a group drafted from the bastard children in Africa.

There would be the question of their morals. Whether the war was worth coming this far. They'd form bonds of brotherhood. We'd be of all different nationalities and break racial barriers. Maybe fall in love with women in France when we're sent there to repel the German's final push towards Paris. Then there'd be us fighting to live as we've found new reasons to. Help each other push off shell shock and make it back alive.

Bang. Story idea right there. That's what they want.

But I can't do it.

They don't have earnest strength in their endeavors. They want everything to just happen to them, like it would in a story, or by chance, like everything else in their lives. I wonder if any of them understand the amount to be sacrificed to achieve what they want. Or maybe they do, and that's why they refuse to pay it. I don't know.

Ugh.

So I ranted a little bit about that.

I just finished watching the first season of Code Geass.

I feel kinda like Lelouche. Not that I have a horrible grudge towards a large empire. But because I feel like at the moment in time, I'm not really living. This life is boring, and safe. It's just. I don't know. I feel that as I try harder to be a normal high schooler, I wish to be the opposite just that much more.

It's a good anime though.

Also, I'm quite interested about tomorrow for a couple of reasons. One. I want the weekend to come so badly. And Two. I want to go to creative writing. Tomorrow is the day that my story gets spoken about in front of the entire class. Hopefully I get some decent feedback. I also wonder if Roger will say anything.

I use him name here because he's honestly too retarded to find this blog and to realize who it is. He's a senior from the class that hates me for absolutely no reason. I said something to him, trying to calm him down and it made him angrier because he didn't understand what I was saying. And then during the last workshop, he didn't understand something I was saying, so I tried to explain and he said "Wait? Why am I listening to you?"

and I replied in kind, with a "Well. Why am I listening to you?"

and he got really pissed. Maybe because I laughed before I repeated him.

But now he seems to have this grudge. So I wonder if he'll try to tear my story apart. I really hope he does try. Because I have confidence in its quality, and I really want to see him get taken down by someone other than me. I also have fantasies that he's my first legitimate fist fight. That because of his simpleness, I'll say something that'll accidentally provoke him to violence and I'll be forced to defend myself. Of course, that'll never happen.

So yeah. creative writing is really all I care about tomorrow. And maybe Chinese. I've been talking to red a little more lately. Though I doubt anything will come out of it, there's that hope, you know? And just because I'm reading waaay to far into what's being said. I know red is really smart. More so than most of the people in my school. But the subtleties would be too well placed.

Anyway. I've said enough at this point. I want to go to bed early tonight.

Oh yeah. I'm still plagued by dreams.

Out~