September 10th, 2015
So, it's the third day of school and this is my first journal entry. I meant to start writing a few days ago when school started, but couldn't seem to remind myself. First class is okay, but it drags. I like English, my success in that class will depend. Drama is awesome though. I can't wait to get actually acting! I have an audition today @3 PM. I left my phone at home and not charged so I hope my mom doesn't kill me for that! The story I am auditioning for is a tragedy. Man, I love those. I've been thinking of translating Apocalypse into a play for months now, ever since I saw West Side Story.
Of course, I should probably finish writing Apocalypse as a book first before I start on the play, then again, maybe writing it as a play will help me come up with some good strong dialogue. I've considered writing Faust from multiple POV's, but that could either do great or be a real failure.
I've sat next to this cute girl at lunch for 2/3 days now. I haven't spoken to her other than to ask for the date, but she's a great drawer. I think an Anime discussion could kick off a friendship. There's a guy who just approached me about choir singing right after school... Drama or Music? Debate of my life right there.
--
So, I'm really beginning to think that my third period teacher has no sense of organization in this class. What she told me yesterday that we were doing today wasn't what we did, instead we played some retarded listening quiz thing because the internet was down for the third time this week.
In Comm. Tech, we got handed this worksheet, apparently we're making our own folder, on special paer & certain measurements. I already dislike this class. I bet I will barely pass with a 50% if at all. We took a tour of the back room and looked at some equipment. I think it's pretty neat our teacher said we could use the machinery whenever, for free. Everyone else has to pay >:)
I spent the latter half of the class talking to Haley for probably the longest conversation in my life. I think it's really weird that I met her at a film camp about five years ago and then saw her twice at group and now we have a class together. She seems really nice. Typical, but nice. She always talks with such surprise and a nxiety in her voice, it's actually really cute.
--
I auditioned for the play sort-of. It's safe to say that I didn't get in. They had us split into two groups of men and women for a total group number of 2 guys/girls per group. There was a really cool guy named Jeff (his birth-name is William however!) he seemed out of place, then again, a lot of them (the girls in particular) seemed like plebeians. He had a lot of energy and was really nice. We had to improvise an infomercial (comically, of course) and I fucked it up! (of course) I think Jeff made it in. Good for him! I however humiliated myself by stumbling like a moron, blabbering out of sync. I also made myself look like an asshole because I practically insulted fat people. Kill me now.
September 11th, 2015
In other words, there's practically one really cute girl per class. In my first period English class, there's this freckled brunette girl who sits next to Bailey. She's nothing special, rather normal, but that's what I like. Perfection is subjective. Thus, it's bullshit. There's a few cute girls in drama, but the real eye catcher in that class is a girl named Dayna. Maybe it's because she's an endangered breed of Myspace emo. From Harry Potter to My Chemical Romance to her dyed hair and red makeup. Ah well. In my third period class there's a girl who reminds me of a girl from my old school named Cece. She doesn't wear any makeup (as far as I can tell), she dresses strangely casually, but not "normal". She's quiet, but has a sense of humor and rebellion. I like.
September 12th, 2015
So, it turns out that the first period girl has a boyfriend. No shock, figures. I'm also willing to propose the girl from third period is a lesbian, but I shouldn't jump to conclusions on things like that. Speaking of which, we had an assembly for the first half of second period and come lunch, I found the library. It turns out Mr. F from my old school is this school's librarian, and perhaps the best part of this journey? THEY HAVE COPIES OF GLUE AND TRAINSPOTTING BY IRVINE WELSH!!!
Okay, fan freak-out is now over, but damn those two books are probably two of the best in the history of literature. Okay, overstatement, but still! I'm shocked because of the content of those books, but I mean in Trainspotting's defense, Scottish dialect is NOT easy to read unless you know ya' shite. I spent lunch AND third period in the library. Congrats to me for skipping, hopefully for the last time. The internet here sucks more dick than corporate record labels. So, I went to fourth period thinking "oh shit", when I walk in to find COOKIES! Not the computer kind, but real Vanilla Oreo's and Chips Ahoy! This is a real easy Friday! TGIF!
I managed to get out of drafting by going on the computers. I hope I'm not annoying Haley.
Us 'Bills' have to stick together!
September 14th, 2015
So on Friday, I went home with a gumball snow cone that was rather disappointing. I ate it on the school bus ride home. There was a girl sitting behind me who looked like the chick from Siouxie and The Banshees. When I got home Mandy messaged me! What a surprising surprise! She told me how her "friend" had said he would meet up with her and then never showed up. What an asshole. So, she asked me to come downtown and hang out. This never happens so listen up! I of course immediately accepted the offer and started running around to get ready. I offered to buy her dinner but she insisted I don't spend any money on her. I hate how low this girl's self-image is. Funny, it's like I'm reflecting on myself? Not really. Fun-fact: Mandy's the me I would be if I wasn't such a hermit. I would be a 17 year old wreck whose fucked more people than the federal government, drank enough alcohol to destroy a fucking kidney and did enough morphine to erase half my memories.
Anyways, so we met up at the Citi Plaza in the rain. My god, not only was it great to see her again, but my god she looked absolutely beautiful. Like a goddess in black. The way she looked, was dressed, the way her hair was colored and how it looked in the rain... I hate to sound like a creep talking about someone who isn't even my girlfriend, but I swear when I saw her I wanted to kiss her, then and there.
Of course, considering the circumstances, all we did was hug. We walked to 'Coffee Culture', a coffee shop that I used to go to with Nathan, Latisha, Hayley and whoever else back when I commonly attended group. I hadn't ever gotten coffee from there before though. Mandy on the other hand, had a serious coffee addiction and asked if I wanted anything. I've only (of my own money and will) had coffee three times to my knowledge. The first time, I was out with my mom and I ordered a bland, horrible coffee that consisted of nothing but 1 sugar. That tasted like absolute shit. The second type was more bearable, and this was back when I used to sit in Tim Hortons with my laptop for hours and work on writing my novel. The third kind must have been some type of cappuccino. I ordered this one the last time me and Mandy actually met up and hung out.
This time, she bought me a "double-double" (2 sugars, 2 cream?) even though I offered to pay for my own drink. We talked for hours. It was around 5:15 when we got there and 9:18 when we left. During that time, I probably spoke the most I've spoken in months. It was extremely awkward because it seems like we have much more in common now than we've ever had before. Don't get me wrong, in terms of music we only really have John Lennon and The Beatles in common. I'm not even a big Beatles fan myself, but I know enough about Lennon to be called a "casual fan". Mandy listens to Foster The People and Twenty-One Pilots. I listen to Black Flag and Nirvana, we aren't exactly "musically compatible". But music aside, it was weird how nothing that I said to her seemed to annoy her, nothing I said she thought was "weird" or creeped her out in the slightest. It was weird being myself for a change and then I got to witness how subconsciously overtly anxious and cautious I am in everyday conversation. I held back a lot, every sentence seemed to be followed up or started with an apology of some sort. I guess this is what happens when everyone either makes you the asshole or the victim, you unknowingly become afraid of, while yearning for: real conversation. At one point, she got really mad at me for holding-off on saying something for minutes on end because I wouldn't stop apologizing for something I hadn't even said yet. I learned that Mandy's hands shake with tremors for no reason like mine. I've never met anyone else who had that. We talked about Jackson Pollock (a brilliant painter), psychology, post-traumatic stress and for the first time in my life, someone told me what I've always been saying to everyone else, I wanted to interrupt her and tell her that I knew what she was going to say, but this was such a special moment to me on a personal level that I had to hear her speak the words.
"What art is to one person, can be something else entirely to somebody else. It's not about how 'talented' or 'good' you are at something because that's a matter of opinion and doesn't matter. What matters is the soul and emotion that you put into it, which is what really counts."
Of course, the big-business CEO's and corporate capitalists can't wrap their small money-addicted minds around the concept. Because, true art "doesn't sell" enough and is "too expensive" and "takes too long" to make, this it "isn't convenient enough". This is all because it doesn't meet their pop-record expectations of "cheap, fast, and easy". Have you ever played Katawa Shoujo? It's a visual novel that has a girl named Rin Tezuka. Rin has no arms due to a birth defect and paints instead with her feet. She's a socially-awkward weirdo, possibly autistic -- in that she has a hard time understanding the world around her and people's feelings as well as expressing her own in any other way but painting. At one point has a chance to have her art put into a gallery. I don't know about you but, first impressions mean a lot to me, and Rin's art teacher was a huge douchebag. While the teacher got mad at Rin to the point of yelling and insulting her, and saw the gallery opening as a chance to start her career as a very successful young artist. Rin herself didn't care, she didn't want fame, she simply wanted to express herself, and being forced to come up with art, alone in her own studio made her practically unable to paint, even doing things like smoking cigarettes and having the main protagonist masturbate her to orgasm just so she could feel some new sensation and emotion to turn into art. In the end, she manages to complete the work and the gallery is well-received, but at the cost that Rin mentally breaks down from the stress and enters what can only be described by me as "severe depression". You can not force an artist to make art.
The point is clear, there are many people out there who don't see art as art, but as a formula, as a product, to sell and be sold. They lack the basic understanding of artistic integrity and emotion that plays such a key role and factor in art. While some people such as Johann Bach or Michelangelo can never fail to impress with their talent and skill through technique, there are other artists such as Kurt Cobain and Vincent Van Gogh who cannot be measured on that type of scale. Sadly, we live in a time where capitalism and consumerism is the key to the basic functions of our economically unstable society and that means sacrificing our art for something that is quick n' easy. It sells fast, it sells lots, but eventually in almost no time at all, it is forgotten and left behind in the dust of time, while great artistic achievements such as Pink Floyd's "Dark Side of the Moon" continue to live on to this day. This was true with 1980's hair metal, where you had to play ridiculously impossible solos, have a crazy hairspray dew and look like a total queer to get anywhere in the music industry. Now, this industry-standard has changed from 80's metal to the horrible electronic-pop or chug-a-luggin' metalcore, but getting a decent place in the music industry is still hard. In fact, even with the amazing advent that is "the internet", it is now more difficult than ever to get your name out there unless you conform to the record labels now even lower-standards. You can record your own albums, post them on Bandcamp, play local live shows, and gain a small following, but without label support, you lack what's really needed: the music videos on MTV, the CD's on every store shelf in America, the gigantic billboard posters and promotion on the main iTunes page, these are things that you're extremely unlikely to be able to get working on home budget, without the viable contacts, where in 2015, it's upwards of $1,000 to record a ten-track album.
Anyways, a double-double = yummy-yummy. After a while, we left (not counting the smoke beaks before and after) and made our way to the clock tower where Mandy went to the washroom. I stood in the hall. Still no gender neutral bathroom yet guys! Apparently, she was in their vomiting. That really sucks. She told me that she has a condition where if she's sitting or standing for too long and can't lay down she loses her breath, becomes dizzy and gets sick. That's when she told me about her lost kidney and extra rib. This is like when Cassandra told me about her heart condition and slightly inverted rib-cage. Leave it to me to be head-over-heels attracted to girls who are fucked up in more ways than one.
Mandy had tried to call her boyfriend (his name is Liam, which is ironic because she previously had a ex named Will -- both of whom she dated years after meeting me). Apparently, he could't pick her up because he was in Kitchener comforting some other girl (I can bet this relationship isn't going to end well). In any case, I find it really awkward that Mandy insists on dating older guys with beards.
Eventually, an ambulance pulled up, and a few paramedics came out with a one of those stroller-things, Mandy told me that when she was in the washroom, she heard a needle popping and figured it was a girl shooting up heroin, which it ended up being. Damn, this city.
September 15th, 2015
So, I learned the names of the cute girls at my school who I have classes with:
P1 - Gabby
P2 - Dayna
P3 - Emily
P4 - Haley
(Off-topic, when home, look up "Stanford Prison Experiments" for English class.)
September 16th, 2015
When I got out of school yesterday, I was surprised to find Nathan (from group) sitting on his bike. I thought he had moved to Vancouver with his girlfriend, but apparently things fell apart. I felt really bad for him. I don't know if they're still together or if the plans of moving just didn't work out, but either way I feel bad. The Pacific Northwest is a great place to live. I would've stayed and talked longer but I had to jump on the school bus. Speaking of which, I hate that damn bus, more-so in the mornings. It's much more bearable in the afternoon. When I got home, it turned out my mom was able to get that cheap Ikea Book/CD shelf thing. I spent all night moving my stuff over from my filthy room and placing me CD's in alphabetical/chronological order. Tonight, we're moving the stereo in from downstairs. Yes, all is well in Todd-land. Were it not for my acknowledgement to others as Todd being a mere "alias" or "pen-name" rather than an alter-ego, one could easy say I was Bunburying. Mainly, because few people know me as both names.
It's also weird to think that Mandy has referred to me as 'Todd' instead of 'William' to everyone but her mom. I guess that it's easier for her, and it is rather polite, but to me William is a very personal name, and I am very okay of her using it.
Everyone in Drama class speaks on some frequency that I can't relate to. I figured being in a drama class with artsy kids at an artsy school would be a great fit for an outcast vagabond like me, but apparently not. Fro-yo's, Nightmare Before Christmas, Tumblr, and Twenty-One Pilots galore. Oh, and food Instagram's. Oh man.
I am glad to have my dresser with CD's and bookcases in my room now. Soon, I will get more CD's and start making videos like InfidelAmsterdam. Not metal, but punk-related. Punk has just as many sub-genres as metal (if not more) that many hardcore and straight-edge purists don't realize exist, same with today's small minded generation who think "punk rock" refers to the up-beat corporate pop sounds of bands like Green Day, blink-182, All Time Low, Billy Talent, Rise Against and Anti-Flag.
I miss my camera. I was taking pictures of everything in my life before everyone and their mother had a smart phone, "before it was cool". Such edge. Many wow.
I hate when people mock me fore "being edgy". I think people are under the influence that I'm actually trying to be "cool". I'm not, nor am I cool. I'm just trying to be the piece of ol' liberal nihilistic shit that is 'me'. I want to tell them "I don't give a shit", but that would definitely make it sound like I cared and was trying to be edgy, so I just don't say shit at all, better to keep my head above the water when I'm surrounded by idiots with no sense of individuality.
This reminds me of an episode of The Henry Rollins Show that I watched last night. Henry interviewed Gene Simmons. A man I've always seen as one of the great rock stars, with a nice approach, a strong family and a great sense of humor. This episode, tragically, made me lose so much of my respect for Gene. He goes on an egotistical self-glorifying rant through the whole episode about how great and 'sexy' he thinks he is. He practically told me (and anyone else like me) that I'm full of shit by telling the world that anyone who doesn't like girls with big tits and asses & who doesn't want to be filthy rich -- is a full liar and cannot be trusted. That's bullshit Gene. Unlike you, there are some actually good people out there who find personal relationships to be more valuable than sex and money. He went on to say that the reason rap is the biggest and most successful genre of music right now is because they are egotistical bitches like rock-stars used to be in the 1980's. He's apparently bliss and unaware of how record companies have been enforcing musicians according to what sells best, and controlling what radio stations and TV stations play. Gene is probably oblivious to this idea because KISS was a "sell-out" band from the beginning (technically, you can't sell-out if you've never had any goal/intention besides money and fame in the first place). Like the companies have done to Nirvana, turning them from a rock band and into a merchandise brand, Gene did this to his own band about 40 years ago. Seriously, other than "I Wanna Rock N' Roll All Nite", who in 2015 has ever listened to, or cared about KISS? The fucker will soon be dated and more irrelevant to today's society than polio.
Which band is the biggest shit-stain in music?
A. Poison
B. Guns N' Roses
C. The Used
D. Taylor Swift
E. La Dispute
F. Beartooth
G. Kiss
The correct answer is all of the above.
The greatest artists are the ones who can greatly articulate their thought, feelings and ideas. In a way that we can relate to. I can't relate to a band like Blood On The Dance Floor talking about sexting and fucking thirteen year old girls. But I can sympathize with a band like N.W.A. For even with their mindless diss-raps and dumb lyrics, they made a strong statement about the world that they knew and lived in.
September 17th, 2015
So, last night we moved the stereo from downstairs into my room. We had to cycle between multiple VD plaers before finding one that worked and -- lo and behold -- it has no 'skip' button or remote! I spent my night listening to my mix-tapes (or 'mix-discs') as a substitute for full unstoppable-albums.
September 21st, 2015
Ever since I last hung out with Mandy, we've planned three different hang-outs. Every single one has fallen through. Show's how reliable people are.
September 22nd, 2015
Today has been relatively boring.
In English, I read more of 'The Perks of Being a Wallflower'. In Drama, people preformed their skits from 'The Importance of Being Earnest', but our group didn't go.
September 30th, 2015
I promised myself in my head that I would write more in this journal, but haven't. Thank god I didn't write down that promise, then I'd have to stick to it.
So, we watched a movie in English class called Children of Men. It's a great film, but it showed me just how unoriginal the video game The Last of Us actually is.
1/2 Children of Men
1/4 The Road
1/4 28 Days Later
I finished and preformed my drama skit with James and Ethyn (James wasn't there when we preformed though). It went well, but my nervousness went through the roof. I don't have stage fright, I love to preform and showcase myself, but the issue is that I'm a 'heat of the moment' kind of person. I've been trying to change it, but for me everything is "as it happens" and because of that, I've said some stupid things and made some pretty shitty decisions. I kind of hate pressure and procrastinate things for that very reason. Now, I'm doing a scene with Kat. It's the one where Jack and Algernon are eating muffins, or rather, Algernon is eating muffins, Jack is bitching him out. I hate complainers, but in this scene of life, I am.
I am Jack's completely contradicting irony.
So, I think my crushes-per-class thing has died out and now there's only two girls I have my 'heart radar' beeping at, this girl Emily (aka Em), the one from third period. We didn't talk much at the start of the semester, but now we're talking more and that's great. I love it when she laughs and smiles. I've never met anyone so conforming but so unique in her own way, she wouldn't stand out from anyone else if you weren't looking for someone like her. I want to ask her to hang out, even more to ask her out. I don't know if she has a boyfriend/girlfriend, but she's never mentioned one and girls usually do when guys get even remotely close. I want to pace myself and not let my BPD trait of 'falling fast and hard' ruin what could be a great friendship, but I also don't want to be too slow and miss a window of opportunity. I doubt she likes me anyway though.
I still haven't seen Mandy since we hung out at the coffee shop. I miss her. So, I texted her last night at one in the morning, we talked for a bit then I talked to her again in the morning before school. I love her. I hope she's happy with her boyfriend.
October 1st, 2015
So, I realize I've been writing in pen. That's because I got a new backpack and hate pencils, just kidding. I lost my pencil like I lose everything. Tomorrow might be a great day. Jayden's mom is out of town and we get the whole day to hang out.
I went to the 'spoken word club' today, but that naming is kind of incorrect. I'd say it's more like a 'literacy club'. I didn't have the slightest clue where the classroom where this club was because I only heard the number on an announcement three days prior, but I followed my gut feeling and ended up in the right classroom. The people there are really nice, I didn't really make any friends, but it's nice seeing two familiar faces there, the one girl, Meredith, is from my drama class, while the other kid whose name I forget (edit: Jameel) is in my Broadcasting class, they weren't the highlight however. The king of the literacy club and the whole reason I'm writing this entry is because of the teacher.
Mr. Tompkins. This man is a pure genius, everything he says is just so articulated, he's intelligent and entertaining all in one, not in a Henry Rollins sort of way, but more like a Mr. Jefferson from Life is Strange (minus the spoilers). He's also rather young (in his early 30's). Turns out that he's the teacher in charge of the Writer's Craft course (which is the main reason I came to this school in the first-place). He's a total example of a mid-90's Weezer hipster all-grown-up (he even quoted a Death Cab For Cutie song at one point) but I'm completely fine with that. I finally found somebody in my everyday life who knows who Palahniuk and Kerouac are. He also loves Donnie Darko and Requiem For A Dream. Bonus points.
The club is basically a literacy-sharing class, only it's not about your spelling, or paragraph building, it's not about how well you can speak in front of a class. It's just sharing our inner feelings and then talking about them and relating to one another. I was nervous when I came into the club, but Mr. Tompkins actually approached me and told me to join in and we shook hands and introduced each other. I volunteered to go first on sharing a written piece even though it was my first day, and I earned a ton of respect for that. I shared a poem I wrote back in February about the love of my life -- Cassandra. They loved it, there was snapping and laughing and tears throughout the play. I got amazing feedback. I never realized how good I was at incorporating emotion into my writing until this feedback. Other people shared their pieces and we talked about it, before I volunteered to read a bit of the first chapter of my book, Apocalypse. They liked that too. It's nice being in a room with other intellectuals, and even if some of them are rather 'plebeian', they all have open-minds and don't get offended by a difference of opinion, which is what I absolutely love and admire.
Towards the end of class, Mr. Tompkins pulled up the Facebook group on the computer, at which point I mentioned his name 'Tompkins' as in the internet celebrity/musician Mike Tompkins (he's an acapella/loop cover musician, who has worked with Christina Grimmie and the likes). The classroom exploded with after, it wasn't until the kid next to me asked me if I knew why everyone was laughing that I learned the truth. Our dear, Mr. Tompkins is Mike Tompkins' older brother. This was a revelation that dropped a bomb so big, you'd think I was making this up and that this was a scene in a movie. I was speechless.
At the end of the class, we learned that there wasn't going to be club next week, bummer. But Mr. Tompkins is in the works to get a APPLIED-LEVEL Grade 12 Writer's Craft to be incorporated at school! If the idea passes, it won't be till next year, thankfully, even though I'm technically already Grade 13, but due to credits needed to graduate -- this is only my penultimate year here. So there's hope after all! Now to enjoy the long weekend!
October 9th, 2015
Still haven't written as much as I should. So, last Friday (Oct. 2nd), I woke up early to meet up with Jayden, it took him long enough -- I waited for about 45 minutes at the Kelsey's plaza on Oxford & Gammage. I remember feeling stood up, but that had more to do with the fact that I was hot and sweaty, but also freezing cold. My mom said it wasn't going to be sunny, but it was sunny all day. We met up and I gave Jayden about $27 that I saved up and he returned from the LCBO with a mickey of vodka and 4-6 large cans of beer. Happy belated 19th birthday, Jayden.
But, before we could return to his house and be the reckless and irresponsible teenage-adults that we are, we first had to make a "drop off". In other words, a pot deal. Jayden makes enough off weed for it to practically be a business on his own. Turns out, he was selling to Joanna. I thought they hated each other? I get it. It's a love-hate thing. Jayden feels for Joanna what I once felt for Cassandra, he showed me a journal that he had kept under his bed that was filled to the brim with writings about his feelings for Joanna, damn. I wish I had that energy. In all reality though, that sucks balls. Not literally (I hope).
After the pot deal, we jumped on the bus to Jayden's house (thank the lord my transfer was still good). We arrived and headed upstairs and started on shots of vodka. I had what's called "doubles" in that I insisted my small lil' glass was filled all the way to the top. I drank the vodka straight. God, it tasted like shit. I can't remember the name of the brand (edit: Polar Ice Vodka), But this holds nothing on those Smirnoff Ice coolers. After about five/six shots and a quarter of a can of beer. I was pretty tipsy. That must be a record for me. Usually, I'm the last of a group to get drunk, and only after five coolers, seven beers, fifteen Jell-O shots and in one-occasion eighteen shots of both Absolut and Jaegermeister.
I think Jayden just likes seeing me get fucked up.
Jayden offered me some tokes from his bong, but I'm currently getting over a cough and I didn't want or need to ruin my tipsiness by coughing to death.
Eventually, he asked me if I was hungry and went downstairs and made me a hot pocket (a pizza-pop I think), when he came back, we started a game that for each shot of vodka we took, we would each remove an article of clothing. Eventually, we were both nude and he climbed on top of me (worth mentioning, we were on the bed, in his room with the door closed and locked). But then, his mom called and he got half-dressed and went back downstairs for a few minutes. When he came back, after what felt like an eternity, we put on some music. He claimed "just put on anything", but Jayden really only listens to rap, metalcore and deathcore. He thought that Nirvana was shite, Black Flag was 'ew', Nine Inch Nails was too depressing, I was past my Of Mice & Men days and we both decided for personal reasons against Alesana. We ended up listening to Marilyn Manson. According to Jayden, he hadn't had sex in a while, which was clear for three reasons:
1) He had been leading me on all day, talking about sexual topics, informing me he was horny, etc.
2) When we agreed to 'do the deed', the orange condom he grabbed was the same 'extra' one that I had gave to him back in April (e.g, the last time we fucked).
3) God, he was very tight and wet, he clung onto me with his nails and everything.
So yeah, we started fucking and continued at that for what felt like forever (in reality, it was about 53 minutes). We switched positions, thrashed about. I tried to go as deep, hard, and fast as humanly possible and I think it worked, because he was moaning more than I've heard from him in years. His face was all clenched up, not in pain, but in pleasure. We made out a few times during. It's weird making out with someone who has two metal piercings on their lower lip. It's even weirder making out with someone who has two metal piercings on their lower lip who also is very easily half of your weight and height and has facial hair, meanwhile, you're pounding the living hell out of their vagina and hopping that their tiny fragile body can handle it. That I managed to get as deep into him as I did was a huge surprise, we moved around, and he actually let me fuck him in missionary position this time instead of just riding me like usual, we gave the infamous '69' a shot (something that I'd only done with Kyle in the past) and I think that the bed was just shaking way too much, thank god his mom wasn't home. The sex was great, usually sex is just a bunch of harsh friction and waiting for it to be over. I went down on him and he orgasmed into my mouth and then it was over. Fuck. Well, for as much as I would've loved to bust-a-nut and shoot my load on his face, we can't always get what we want in life. I was fucking drunk and exhausted anyways.
Jayden got dressed and headed out to do another pot deal. This time, instead of a drop-off, it was a pick up. Apparently, Jayden buys well over $100 of pot and splits it between what he can smoke and what he can sell, apparently there was enough that $40 of it he could smoke, and the rest he sold. I think part of this system is so he can afford the money to get the Suprefact (testosterone) that he needs. It's not insured by the government because apparently, a few months ago, he didn't have a valid health card, a family doctor or anything else. His mom won't give him his own birth-certificate or anything else, so I can only imagine how hard things are.
He left to get the weed, I stayed in his room, light off, door closed and crawled under the covers of his bed and was so exhausted from the sex that I fell asleep. He thought it was cute. I slept like a baby through the brunt of the hangover that would've made me hate life if I was awake, and then woke up an hour later when I heard the front door open and waited for him to come upstairs and knock on the door, then I let him in and we talked for a bit. Jayden gave me a dull, old hunter's knife that he had since he thought it was stupid and dangerous that I didn't have a switchblade on me, he has one, Skylar has one, Austyn has one -- practically everyone I know has one, except me, which is pretty funny when you stop to think that I'm the most likely candidate for being stabbed.
October 12th, 2015
Alright, so let me start this off with the weekend. I created this website called "The Fury and the Filth" (or the other way around) to keep a back up of this journal as well as to talk and rant about other things such as music, movies, art, politics, celebrities, etc. The name of the blog came from a 'History of Punk' book, that's the chapter that talks about Black Flag. It's a nice spread with a picture of Henry Rollins and the band in what I presume is 1983, the bars are neatly placed throughout the page. I wanted to use the title for an indie film I'm planning to write that's based off my idea for a film called 'Scott'. Unfortunately, the name 'The Fury and the Filth' is taken and was used as the title for a Sex Pistols documentary, so there goes that idea.
Turns out Jayden got robbed by one of his so-called 'friends', I looked up this kid on Facebook, he looks like a fucking dweeb. He's a short scrawny fucker with big glasses that has his pants sagging below his ass and is clearly trying to be "badass". He pushed Jayden off his skateboard and took off with $90. Shit. I'll make sure to kick his ass if I see him. Jayden has always hung around the wrong people. Though, before I met him, he never hung out with anyone. I've only told this story to friends and anyone else who would listen, so I think it's important to get this out of the way now, me and Jayden reminisce about the early days of our friendship. I was in eighth grade. I was (and still am) an overweight loner with greasy hair who couldn't make any friends (I also smelt bad and had zero social skills). I got bullied, a lot. Jayden, was at that point a girl named Cassandra.
She was a lesbian, and a very macho one at that too, she wore tank-tops, had a jean vest, slicked back hair like a greaser from The Outsiders. You did not want to fuck with her. She was cold, not willing to let anyone in. I don't know much of the story, but she used to live in Barrie, she had a girlfriend who she loved like the world. Her family was, and still is, dysfunctional. I heard from a source, I can't remember whom, that her brother used to touch her, and molested her. Shit's messed, it just goes to show you how life is not like a movie or a TV show, this isn't 'The Andy Griffith Show' or 'Leave It To Beaver'. Cassandra moved to London during the summer of 2010. When she started school, she grew a crush on a girl named Sydney, both Sydney and Cassandra were in the other eighth grade class at the school, so I had little-to-no interaction with them. Sydney was the most popular girl at school, you can imagine how that would backfire on someone like Cassandra. That didn't matter though, I heard once that Cassandra punched or beat-up a kid at our school, could just be rumours, but I was hearing about her before I even met her.
My first interaction with Cassandra happened at our school's Valentine's Day dance, she came up to me and asked me if I was okay, then if I wanted to dance. I turned her down, though it left it's impression. At the time, I was feeling rejected. Nate wasn't my friend anymore, and Reanne, the girl I had a crush on at the time wasn't interested in me, I felt my life steering out of control again, no friends, bad grades, my dad was being the worse he'd ever been in terms of arguments and abuse. I had just started punching back. I was devastated and spent the whole dance crying. I had a few people ask me if I was okay, more than I ever would in high school, but that was irrelevant because I could tell that most of them didn't actually care, they just felt obligated as a human to 'try and help'. However, with Cassandra, there was a sense of actual feeling and meaning behind the "are you okay". It wasn't empty. I didn't talk to her afterwards, but she friend requested me afterwards. I accepted because I only had 180 Facebook "friends" at the time, and figured one more wouldn't hurt.
Then, the day of fate. I was fed up with life. I had a knife in my hands and I was dumb enough that I was going to jam the dull blade into my gut and suffer. Then, ironically like a movie or a TV show, my Facebook bleeped off. I thought that it was just some other kid wanting to fuck with me, call me names, tell me I'm worthless. Instead, it was her. I can't remember what our first conversation was. I think she asked me about who I liked and told me that she could tell that I was lonely and depressed. She told me she wanted to be friends. I didn't believe it, and for the next two days I still thought it was a set-up, I thought someone was fucking with me. We hung out for the first time at lunch a few days later. It was a rainy day so that meant that the kids had to stay indoors and spend lunch in the library. I sat at a table with her and we talked, I showed her some of my games on my iPod. She didn't have an iPod, nor did she play video games. I was shocked to meet someone who wasn't in with the current trends. Mainly the Double Rainbow and Antoine Johnston.
To be honest, after a while I became afraid of our friendship and started to avoid