Wednesday, June 03, 2009

Life goes on, sadly enough.

So Dylan graduated Monday.

Yes, I know.
It's weird.

Mr. Homebody is all grown up and going out on his own. :[ I mean, of course we're going to see enough of him. He says he'll be home every weekend, but I hope that once he gets out there he changes his mind. Not that I don't want to see him, of course, but I want him to be comfortable being out there on his own. I'm sure he'll learn.

You know, it's really sad how as soon as he and I begin to get along a bit better, he has to leave. But I suppose that's just how things work.

I actually planned out this whole thing in secret from Dylan to surprise him, too! ;P
We have a choir banquet every year at the end of the year and we all get pins for what year we're in in choir and there's superlatives and the seniors get recognized.
So, I'd talked to our director, Mrs. Elliott, and got a spot to give a speech for him.

I had an idea as to what to write, but, unsurprisingly, I wrote it all the day of the banquet. Good thing I have a knack for writing, eh?

My whole goal of the speech was one, of course, to have it be special for my brother. Secondly, I wanted it to be something that wouldn't bore people. And third, I'll admit I wanted a few people to cry.

1) succeeded
2) succeeded
3) succeeded A LOT

I really didn't expect that many people to cry, but i had the whole house face-raining.

But enough about me.

I never really expressed much interest in what Dylan did or didn't do, at least pertaining to school nonsense, but I really am proud of him. Though he may have waited last minutes for somethings, I'm still astonished at where he has put himself.
He is so talented and smart, I know he can do what he wants, if he puts his mind to it. I mean, not to sound cheesy, but it is mildly required.

I do have that speech written down somewhere... I'm sure I'll find it in like 3 months and blog it eventually.

Tuesday, March 24, 2009

old friends, decisions, & life

So, I'm here in Florida visiting mah old buddy Deanna.
Well, she's not exactly an old buddy, that I never talk to or something. But she has been my best friend since I was seven, and tragically ended up moving to Florida about six years ago.
Fortunately enough, we still keep in contact over myspace and such.

And, man, do I love her.
It's funny, because every time we hang out, it's not like some kind of reunion. We just chill like it happens every day.

And I owe it to mah pops!
Thanks for sending me down here, duuuuuude.

But, whilst spending my time down here, I've decided that I'm the happiest I've been in a while, and that this last year was probably the best thing that ever happened to me.

I mean, despite all the drama and angst, it put me in a place I'm really enjoying.
I've found all my real friends that I would give anything for, got the right help, became closer with my family, and not to mention been introduced to amazing music, movies, and whatnot.

I've found my philosophy in life as well.
All I can ever want is tolerance, and to live my life to the fullest.
I'm going to put myself out there, pursue my dreams, live through amazing experiences, and try to leave the best name I can for myself.

Isn't that what life should be about?

P.S.- I'm homesick. :[

Wednesday, January 21, 2009


My insides hurt.


I suppose it's all in my head.
I've come to terms with the fact that I am not perfect, and there's nothing I can do about it.
If you don't like me, the way I act, the things I say, or the way I dress, then tough shit.
That's me.
Maybe you'll get used to it.
I'm a teenager, I change constantly- Maybe you'll find a persona in me that you'll like.

But, if you don't, I don't mind.

Of course it matters somewhat.
It's like if you love a shirt, then someone tells you they don't like it.
You're still going to wear it, but it'd always be better if they did like it.

Yeah, it'd be cool if you liked me.
But if you don't, that's cool with me, too.

Something you might not know is that I've been in therapy for about 5 months.
Distilled feelings are as follows: hurt, anger, sadness, betrayal.
Instilled ideas are as follows: It's ok to be angry, for the right reasons. I am worth it.

I'm trying.
I'm pushing to make it.
My goal is to be who you want me to be, and who I want to be at the same time.
But I'm taking it slow.
I'd rather not push myself too hard.

On another note, has changed my life.
Well, not really, but it is pretty amazing.
I hope you've heard of it, but for those of you who haven't, it's this project where a guy just asked people to send him postcards with their secrets on them.

I sent in one today.

Sunday, November 30, 2008

Bird Flu

So, I don't really know how to start this.
All I can say is that I've spent the past couple days surrounded by either


Thanksgiving day was fairly uneventful.
My cousin spent the night with me the night before, then around noon on the actual day of thanks, we went to my mother's house.
A filling lunch ensued.

Then, around 4, my siblings, my cousin Sam, and I transported our fat selves to my father's place.
More food. Woopeeeeee.

My dad had called my mom's house a few minutes before claiming, "We're all anxious to eat."
Anxious to eat, my ass.
I ain't eatin nuffin, my brudda.

But, alas, one can never deny stuffing.
And this weird pineapple/cheese/whatever the frack else is in it casserole thing that Rachel makes.
It's delicious.

So, next morning, I get up and one out of the five children is missing.
It's Katie, and apparently, she got really sick around 2 something in the morning and was tossing chunks and pooping everywhere.
My mom got Katie or something, so she was over there, whilst all of us other kids were at my dad's.

My mom had gotten Katie so as to try to protect my dad from any sort of sickness, which didn't really help in the long run because my brother and I both got sick as well.

I suppose there are some benefits to Katie not being there, mostly because my dad wouldn't have to take care of her, and I guess he doesn't really have to take care of my brother and I whilst we're sick.
We can both drag ourselves to the toilet right before our stomach explodes both up our esophogi and colons just fine.

Basically, I've resolved to never eat pizza again.

I've never really liked pizza in the first place, and normally my dad or mom or whomever did the ordering will get me some hot wings or chicken strips or something.
But, I actually opted for the pizza when the food got there.

Which, inevitably, was really the better choice.
Mostly because throwing up pizza flavor is ultimately better than throwing up spicy demon chunks.

But, still, I will never eat pizza again in my life.
Because nothing is worse than looking up and seeing this vile, bile/tomato sauce-smelling thing in your toilet- That happens to look exactly like the pizza you ate just hours beforehand.

Which is probably a lie.
Because there is nothing BETTER than Conner Miller's specialty ICB pizza.
And that probably wouldn't be too bad throwing up.

Except maybe if you're on a date.
In which case, you would end up with garlic/vomit breath.
But let's just assume that won't happen.

Because who would eat garlic on a date?

Wednesday, October 29, 2008


I think it's about time i put up a real post.

Here's what I've been up to-

1)I'm in or school's fall production, play/musical thing, as the narrarator for A Christmas Story.

2)I've been writing TONS of poetry. I have this one notebook I've been filling up with all sorts o' crap. I hace about 24 poems right now I think. I could stand for some of them to go. I mean, at some points you can tell when I've really got some good ispiration, and others you can see where I've basically forced rhyming words out of myself.
But, anyways, it's still pretty noice.
I'm actually looking to getting published.
Who agrees that it might be a good idea to include some of my older stuff?

3)I have an awesome councelor.
Her name is Sandy.
I did feel a bit nuts going to school yesterday with a sticker featuring two stick-figure kids holding hands and big letters at the top saying, "I LIKE BEING ME!" on my chest.
But mostly because everyone thought Sandy just slapped it on me, in a "there-ya-go! all better, eh?" fashion.
Buuuut, truth-be-told, I picked it out. I actually liked it a bit.
Though I can admit it was silly, I still liked it.
I did, however, pick out another that I thought was pretty funny. It was some girl stick figure with words around her that said, "KIDS ARE SPECIAL PEOPLE!"
I'd thought that was pretty hilarious, but most kids got a kick out of the former.
Maybe I am crazy?

4)Today I pranced around school showing off my shrink stickers, now on my backpack, alongside an "Obama '08" sticker.
Surprisingly, I didn't get as much of a reaction as I'd hoped.
LOL, I'm just loving all this crap about Obama coming from morons who know nothing, though.
I've never had much opinion on elections EVER, but in this case I don't even have to pay attention to use my common sense and realize Obama is better.

Oh well, as I've said before, "As if my opinion matters."

Sunday, August 17, 2008

What I didn't know about myself.

So, simply go to google and type in various such things as "*insert name here* loves" and "*insert name here* hates".

Some of the products are pretty fun.
Here goes.

Emily loves to bounce!

Emily loves everything Japanese

Emily loves the earth

Emily loves Danny Haren

Emily loves banana custard!!

Emily hates you.

Emily hates ciggarettes

Emily hates chipmunks.

Emily hates feet!

Emily hates the name Dave.

and so on.

Tuesday, July 29, 2008

new poem, i was pissed.

You people sicken me
July 21

i am so tired
of not being able
to arange my feelings
into an orderly fashion.

and fumbles

i hate how
i feel so selfish
telling you
to give people chances, if only for me

i hate how
i feel so selfish
asking for time
with a friend who's forgotten this painted on wall-flower

it makes me sick
to think of
how i portray myself
even on accident

it makes me sick
to think of
the fact that
i can't even control myself

my innards churn
at the thought
that people could care less
about me.

i feel like hurling butterflies
when i see your face
looking at mine
with no given sympathy

i pity you people.

i pity you irrational,

i'm dissappointed in you.
i'm dissappointed in you people who could care less.
i'm dissappointed in you people who think that you are all that matters.
i'm dissappointed in you people who don't give others chances.

every day,
i just long more and more
to get away from here,
from this narcissist-inhabited place.

how many days
will it take
for you to just
drive me away?

apparently, you don't want me to stay.

Sunday, July 06, 2008


The Steady Beat
July 5

Drowning in a dream
Falling for fear
My hand reaches for yours
But it doesn't seem to appear

I lurch for the light
But it doesn't get closer
With the darkness closing in
I feel myself becoming colder

The steady beat of your footsteps
Slowly fading away
I can feel the rhythm in my bones
Dissappearing more every day

Your arguement drones
My mind saunters
Your words fade to the background
My thoughts wander

The steady beat of your heartbeat
Slowly fading away
I can feel the rhythm in my bones
Dissappearing more every day

I am drowning
I am falling
I am reaching
But I'm not finding

Here we go again
With my words drifting off

The steady beat of your pumping veins
Slowly fading away
I can feel the rhythm in my bones
Dissappearing more every day

Your words are a sickening sweet
With bitter undertones
I can hear the venom in your voice
I can hear the already-said couplet clones

The steady beat of your plagerized words
Slowly pounding away
Melt into my system
And hide inside my brain

The steady beat
The steady beat
Slowly pounding away