there are times, unforseen times, when the weight of my past mistakes push me under the surface. I am constantly trying to push myself off the bottom, to dig my feet into the sand of the ocean floor and propel myself to the surface, but the pressure of the fathoms are more than I can stand at times. I reach for a hand to pull me out, but sometimes I feel like no hands are reaching down, no fingertips are brushing my skin, offering support, offering rescue. I swallow saltwater, and I forget whether it is seawater or swallowed tears.
I feel like my life is stagnating, the weather echoes mmy emotions perfectly, cold, windy, rainy, the blustery weather that pervades this area of the country before the beauty of winter descends. I wish to go for it, I wish desperately for the first snowfall, when for one moment I can look out and see beauty again, see peace, see calm, but day after day I open my door and see nothing but wind and nearly frozen rain. My life is a metaphor.
I don't even know what is making me feel like this, maybe it is the longing for my family, maybe it is the recent realizations, maybe it is the upcoming holidays that hang over my head. I don't know, but I hope this entry will relieve some of my pain, though I doubt it.

the last four years have been the hardest in my life, since 2005 I've felt like my life is slowly unraveling, the threads tangling to trip me up. I long to shrug this off, to shrug off my past mistakes, but it clings to me, and every day that goes by makes it a little heavier. the nights are the hardest, the nights are when I remember the days when I would lock myself in my room and turn my stero up as loud as it would go, so no one would hear my screams of anguish. the days when I would feel the bite of blades in my skin, and then hide them under my clothes. Hide the scars so no one would see how pained I was.
My life is one hiding act after another, piling on top of each other so that sometimes I don't know where my real self is under the piles of false happiness and concealed scabs. Sometimes something would brush them away, and I would catch some glimpse of sunlight, feel a breath of cool fresh air, but then the folds would fall again, and I am smuthered under the weight that seems to get heavier each time they descend.
Please pardon all the similes and metaphors, its how I'm thinking lately.

I realized recently, that I'm running, sprinting, from my past, and I'm getting tired, my limbs are lead, anchoring me to the spot and forcing me to look back at a slide show, mocking me with every bad decision. I want to start over, to get a new life, to stop returning to places of my past that I'd been happy at one time. Both times I've done it, I've returned to find the cities of my memories colapsed, crumbled into dust, covered with shrubs, reclaimed by time, and no more to me now than a mockery, a memorial to a past life that tantalizes me, but which I can never return to.
I want nothing more than someone to tell this too, but who can I tell? Who would accept the responsibility of holding me up. I know I have friends, close friends, that care about me, many of them are reading of this, but they are scattered about the country, and I can't run to any of them, to have them wrap an arm around me and tell me it will be ok. Even the one thing I enjoy most, at least in this type of instance, protecting someone I care about, lately, I'm failing at. the one person I'd give everything to protect, is so far away, that I can do nothing but offer words, and words are nothing. Just breaths of air, sent out through wire, and falling on ears that have heard them all before. I can't brush her hair back and kiss her pain away, and I'm not sure if that hurts me or her worse.

I've been told that time can heal all wounds, but it seems now that time is causing all my wounds, and twisting the knife. I left my family, and moved on, to gain independence, but now, I'm alone. the holidays hold that over my head like a swinging sword. Thanksgiving and christmas, will be depressing times for me. I'll be surrounded by patrick's family, my sister being the only one there I'm actually related to. I love many of them, but I never feel like I'm quite accepted among them. I always feel like I'm accepted merely as politeness, and that my blindness makes me little more than a burden to them. It sometimes feel like the paste smiles on there faces, and the smile never quite extents to there voices, but of course, they don't think I can tell. I'm always cast into a corner until its convenient to come and get me. So I seclude myself, I sneak out into the frozen florida room, and hide away, playing pool with myself, and speak as little as possible.
I miss the times when I was a child. When my entire family would gather at my grandmothers, and I'd sit in front of the fireplace, and my cousins would be there, I'd climb the firepole, and I'd feel like I was really one of them. When the stockings, hung along the balcony, would be thrown down by one of the uncles, and the children would pull out their small trinkets like they were golden. When the smell of the burning logs and eggnog, hot chocolate, coffee, and pumpkin pie, would bring me comfort, and make me feel happy. but those days are long gone, the balcony and fireplace, and the firemen's pole, are all gone, lost in a house fire years ago, and my family have splintered into factions, that fight more bitterly than dogs.
Even when I lived in florida or georgia, and my sister would come down, we'd have a christmas tree, and it would at least feel like christmas inside, if it was eighty degrees outside. Those holidays at least made me happy. But this christmas, I'll have the cold weather, the snow, the clear cool air that always makes me feel like it really is christmas. but the house will be cold, unfriendly, unchristmas like. I'll feel close only to my sister, and even she will be trying to please her boyfriends family, she'll be happy to lay in his arms next to the fireplace, and I'll sit and wish I were somewhere else. I'll sit and dream of the arms I wish I were lying in, and how many hundreds of miles away they are, probably wrapped around a family member, as happy as I wish I could make her. and I will feel even more lonely than I did already.

I don't know what resolution I was looking for in this, but I don't think I found it. I feel like I'm being battered by the waves, and I don't know if I have the strength to keep treading without someone to cling onto. I just want someone, someone I can completely open up to, who won't scoff or disapprove of anything, but I'm terrified to do so. I'm terrified to show all of me, because it doesn't seem good enough anymore.

I hope you all enjoy your holidays, I don't know when I'll post again, but as always, any words are welcome. Have a nice day.

N one is allowed to be so proud,
They never reach out when they've given up.

its amazing how difficult it is to live with how much pain I've caused. I can live with the painy life, and if I may sounds self indulgent for a moment, that is quite substantial an amoutn; but to live with the pain I've caused others throughout my life span, is a harder matter eirely.
I know her tears have stopped flowing, but I also know that somewhere inside her shattered heart, lay the pieces of shattered dreams, anthe festering wound that can only be accounted to my knife. I know that she will probably never heal from the blow that I've given her. Certainly she willmove on sooner or later, and rightly she should, ut to imagine that she may forget and completely heal from it is a dream I cannot afford to have. Whats worse is that, though I feel regret for what I've d, I can't go back, and few people will even believe that I even feel the regret at all.
Because of my pride, stubbornness and the hard exterior that I'd built around my emotions, I've alienated nearly everyone I called my closest friends. That fact more than anything else saddens me, I valued those friendships more than anything else, and because of no one other than myself, I lost them. I h I knew some way to get back into their good graces, but the only way i know of is to wait and see what happesn. A prospect that I don't feel too keen about.
However, though I am in something of a melancholy mood at the moment, there is one pinprick of happiness that brightens my day comsiderably. I won'tnto details of it, but it is my new friendship with a girl that is completely disconnected from this LJ, and so will not appear in it very often in more than a passing mention. Know only that she makes me happy, and that is all.
I realize that I haven't posted since I moved here to oklahoma, and I must say that it wasn't the most perfect of situations. I thaught perhaps the situations of the past had melted away into nothing mothan unpleasant memory, but little did I know that the past would come to haunt me, even (and maybe especially) here in this little town. the town of my birth holds so many memories for me, I shouldhave foreseen the possibility that it would also be full of ghosts.
The places of my childhood are now tarnished silver, and are being covered over by the rust of an iron present. My famly and I are at more and bigger differences then we were the last time I strolled these streets. The ideals of a lifetime now separate us.
for those of you who know my life story, and I admit that is few, you will know that my family is amazingly, mind blowingly religious. I, on the other hand, am anti-religion. I am not athiat, but more that i don't believe that god exists as a higher being that looks down and sadistically lets us destroy ourselves. I simply don't think that makes sense. So I reject it. In doing so have rejected every value that my family, or most of my family, holds dear.
Also, and this only applies to my father, and through corilation, my grandmother, I am no longer wil to let him rule my life. Of course, when I was willing, I didn't really have much of a choice. However, now I do, and I refuse. this idea does not sit well with him, as he is used to having the rest of the family jump at his cand, especially my grandmother.
When I was living at her house, I was constantly at her beckon, and he was of the opinion that that put me at his also. I did not agree, and I told him so. e tried to control me on several occations. from what I'm told, that is not a strange occurrence here. I am not the first grandchild to have to stay at grandma's house, and he has not been happy aboutany of them. So it seems that I have chosen factions here. My autn cathy and I, allied merely in the fact that we have been cast out of the normal goings on in the family, are now posed against my fher and, acting mainly under his control, my grandmother. I however choose usually to stay out of the way and let everyone else rip each other's throats. I have no desire to get mixed up in a battle that cannot be won.

I have been offered a scholarship from Flagler again, and I am going to take it. the state of oklahomahave already screwed up my account with them, and now of the opinion that I need an eye check.
It means another move, another mess of setting up contacts with government officias, and finding m way around another city, but it is one that I have friends in, and some training, so I am not too worried about it.
Now that I think about it,I should have taken this course of action long ago, and I'm kicking myself for it now. but that is life I suppose.

I'm sorry this post is so short. I realize that many people have wanted me tost. I just haven't gotten around to it.
Ice and iron has been taking up most of my time, and is available to anyone who wants a copy of the work as it stands now. It isn't finished by any means, but it is gettingre. I think it may ruffle a few feathers though, but I have never shrunk away from that.
I leave you now to read other posts, or go about your lives. I' try to post again soon, when I have more things to post about. Which, with the situation poised to change as it is, will probably not be very long in coming.
As always, have a good day.

Ok, it turns out that the part about Bianca wasn't true, so I retract what I said about bianca. However, the rest of it istrue. And that is referring to my last post. Continue to enjoy.

So, it would seem that my life does not have the capacity to be perfect, fucking thing that it is. It seems that one or more of the people I called friends... and morgan, always decide to fuck something up.
Now, lately, I've been watching louis black, and I love the way he talks, so I appologize if anyone finds this LJ a little offensive or hurtful, but you'll get over it.
First, lets start with the good, simply because it came first in the title. Yvonne is wonderful, and by that, I mean she's great. Those who are my close friends, and those that talk to me daily, have commented that I haven't been this happy in a long time. Which, honestly, is true, because I can't remember the last time I was this happy. Even BP, who can tell me what I'm thinking before I think it, was surprised to see me so hppy.
So, thats the first good. The second is that the whole moving thing is not overly complicated yet, but we'll get there.
So, lets move on to the bad. The bad is that a lot of the friends I used to talk to all the time don't talk to me anymore, like caitlin, we had one conversation, I want her to call me or something. Then there's bianca, which will be discussed in the following section.
So, the annoying, ets start with the queen of it, morgan. Yes, as you may have noticed, I've kind of pulled punches and turned the other cheek lately, but now she's just annoyed the fuck out of me, so its time I actually said whats on my mind.
First, morgan has this boyfriend, although I think the first word in that compound is in question. If I had a girlfriend who pined for someone else... I tell her to go fuck him then and not talk to her again. But not this guy, no, he does a wonderful impersonation of morgan's floor mat, which is ironic, because his name is matt. And, for those of you who didn't understand that analogy, it means he lays on the floor and lets her walk all over him.
So, then, as I said, morgan has an it-friend, but she pines for someone else, one of her countless x's, since that girl goes through boys like I go thorugh soda. She pines for this faraaz guy, who lives in england, which makes me convinced that california girls are really pretty, and morgan is feeling left out. It must be true that the british women are rather homely.
Now, most girls will say that its ok to pine for another guy, but its not, ok? If you have a boyfriend, you should have that boyfriend, and no one else, thats it, no questions, nothing.
So she's all pining over this faraaz guy, and that would be all fine and dandy, if faraaz didn't have a girlfriend, I say girl because she is in fact a girl. She gets pissed like a girl, and she talks about morgan like pretty much every girl I've met.
So, morgan, in her miniscule amoutn of wisdom, ecided to start messaging this girl on her boyfriends messenger. Thats morgan's boyfriend, not the girl's. So, as most of you already know, this is a mistake. Morgan should hve just moved on with her life, but morgan has this little thing where she can't fucking let go of anthing in her life. She still holds grudges against every one of her boyfriends, going back to when she was like... fucking six. So, obviously, morgan moving on with her life, is like asking for a miracle.
So then, morgan and this girl got in a fight, and the girl wanted to rip morgan's head off through her toenails, which is a feeling I am somewhat familiar with. So her and I tak and I get her calmed down. And thats the end of that.
So, just to make us feel better, last night, four of us, who will remain nameless because I have more respect for people's personal life than morgan does, went on zbp and had a nice conversation. We went back and read some of morgan's board posts together, usually the ones that talked abot me or faraaz. Then, instead of actually reading them as truth, we added the truth in, and had a merry old time.
Yes, I admit it was vendictive, but I don't care, it was fun.
So, that takes care of morgan, until she reads this and gets all pissy and shit, which just makes her look even more stupid to everyone else, but she hasn't noticed that yet.
So, lets move on to the last thing, the confusing, which is annoying, I hate being confused, so its annoying. The thing that is confusing me is that Bianca, whom I said would be discussed, has been asking about me to some of my friends. I'm told through reliable sources that she has been asking about who I'm dating and if I was dating mona, which II'm not, and never will be, nor do I want to. So, she's asking all these questions, but then, when I admit who I'm dating, she gets mad at me for it.
So then, morgn, who is like pouring salt on a wound whenever she gets involved, has a nice long conversation with bianca. But the thing is, bianca is constantly claiming that she doesn't like morgan, so why is she having nice long conversations with her? So confusing, so very fucking confusing.
Ok, so heres the thing, I'm going to be blatant about this, its going to hurt and probably make several people hat me, but I don't want anyone getting confused.
Yes, I am dating Yvonne, yes, I am more happy now that I have been in the last couple years, that covers morgan, bianca, and any other time either of them has known me. No, I cannot explain it, because I don't know why it is. And no, no matter what you say or do, I'm not changing it. Also, and this is mainly for morgan, you can bitch all you want to, and cry all you want to, and put me on ignore if you want to, I don't fucking care anymore. I'm sick of people clinging to me. I've moved on with my life. I'm not going to sit back and live in the past just because some girls want me to. I'm sorry, but I can't do that. Both of you need to stop doing that. Stop blaming me because you can't let me go. And morgan, you can claim you hate me all you want, but you are only fooling the people who are actually your friends, which is about three.
So, that is m rant, I feel better now, I'm sorry if that offended anyone who wasn't directly involved in it, and if you want to cuss me out, you have my email, and some of you have my cell phone number, go right ahead.
For the rest of you, remember, if it wasn't for my horse, I wouldn't have spent that year in college.

So, I told you I would update you once I'd told my parents that I was going to california, and so I'm doing so. Now, even though I didn't post right after I told them, I did actually tell them the day of my last post. It didn't exactly go the way I expected it to, although it did at first. So, here's the story I know your all dying for.
So, I called my mother up into my room, mainly because I didn't want to deal with Patrick. He's just too negative and he doesn't listen. So, even though I say come up after your done with what your doing, she comes up immediately. So I tell her, and she says, "You didn't even get in to USC", which isn't what I was going for anyway, but I let it slide. I said, I know but I wasn't only planning on CSULA. She gets mad and says, "I don't have time for this".
So she storms out, slamming my door, which I'm surprised it still has hinges after all the times they've slammed it. She stomps downstairs, I swear under my breath, and resolve myself to find a way to get to the airport on my own.
So I'm sitting, labeling my movies, when she yells at me from downstairs, as if it would be too taxing to come up the stairs and knock on the door. I go down, after finishing what I was doing, and she says "sit down". Which usually means, "I'm going to talk and your going to agree with me", which isn't going to happen.
So I sit, and she says immediately, "You can't afford to live in california", as if she is suddenly the expert on every state in the union and their property prices. So, I tell her how much its going to cost me, which she doesn't believe, she thinks that BP's ben lying to me for this entire time. Which she's not.
So then, she moves on to the question of college, which is a valid question. I explain where I'll be going, and how much it does cost, and I throw in how I can negate paying it. So, Patrick, being the inquiring mind that he is, goes to the internet to look. He finds a different number, because he didn't look where I did, and didn't look at the same thing. So, then I remind them that I can get help from the government if I had to, which I can.
They counter by saying that the school doesn't offer anythin for blind people, which is obvious because no college offers anything for blind people. I say, "I'm not talking about the college, I'm talking about the government". They counter with, "but the school doesn't have any programs for the blind", which is the point at which they stopped making sense. Which is surprising, because they usually don't last that long, I was slightly impressed.
So then, I basically say, in a friendly tone, that I'm going no matter what they say, and I only wanted their help with buyin the plane ticket, since I've never done it before. I wasn't even asking for money, which is my sister's calling card.
So she, being my mom, says that I should wait until saturday and she will give me an hour of her time, which struck me as kind of strange that she has to take an hour out of her oh so busy day for her son; but again I let that slide. I really didn't feel like arguing that night.
So, again, Patrick and his inquirig mind, goes and asks more wrong questions. He goes and he asks someone who lived in San Fransisco for a couple years when he was a kid about whittier California. His informant said it was in berbank, and that it wasn't the safest area, but it wasn't unsafe. So, immediately, my mom is thinking that I'm moving to harlem, which happens to be in New York, but that's ok. I shrug it off. In todays world, no city is safe, I don't care what world my parents are living in, no place is safe, if you don't like that, build a bomb shelter and live in it. Get used to not being safe in life. I know, I'm morbid aren't I.
So, my parents still haven't realized that I can get help from the government, and that the government isn't going to make me wait a year to get help from the california government. That would just be stupid, and no blind person would stand for it.
So, basically, my parents don't like the idea, which I expected. My mom is convinced I'm going to be held at gunpoin everyday and have my wallet stolen; and that I wouldn't know what to do if that happened. Its not a hard decision to make though, you give over your wallet and lose a couple bucks and deactivate your cards, or you get shot, hmmmmmm, thats difficult.
So, we'll see what happens tomorrow, and see how difficult it is to get her to give me that hour she promised. I think she'll come up with several excuses not to do it, but if she does, I just do it myself.

So that is how that went, now let me tell you about last night.
Last night, my aunt, uncle, and grandmother, and my two little cousins, came down, and my other uncle, and my family, went out to dinner with them. Now, if you can't count, thats nine people, two of which were under two years of age, all at the same table, all trying to eat. It was a huge argument.
It started out with my stepdad trying o impose his will by saying, or rather assuming, that we would go to the restauront he wanted, simply because he wanted it. He was wrong, and we ended up going to a restauront he hadn't tried yet, which he bitched about continuously until we got there.
So, then, my uncle paul, being the spas that he is, decided to tell the waitress before we arrived, that we had a dog with us. The waitress told him that they didn't allow dogs. Notice that I never used the word guide in any of those sentences.
So, my uncle paul made a big deal and started flashing his badge around, and saying that they were going to be shut down, and he gave us a call on my stepdad's cell phone. So my stepdad starts spouting off some random bullshit that was completely wrong, and when we get to the restauront, he's all in a fit of fury because they won't let the dog into the restauront. so, I walk up to the waitress and ask, politely I might add, if my uncle had mentioned that it was a guide dog, she said he hadn't, I walked over and took a seat. It was a simple solution, and I didn't have to threaten anybody.
So, you'd think we could sit and have a pleasant dinner, with some light conversation and good humor; and if you thaught that, you don't have a big family. First, my grandmother tried to tell every one of us what dish was good and what dish was bad, even though she'd never been to this restauront before. So, once we had all decided what we wanted, she tried to order for all of us, and fucked that all up. So, we stopped her, and each told the waitress what we wanted, indevidually. Finally got our orders right, then the chidlren started.
Now, my little cousin Nadia, she's only four months old, so I can understand her crying at the table, it didn't bother me, but my cousin drew, who is two and four months, is a different story. He ordered mac ad cheese, why we took him to a greek restauront, I don't know, but we did. So he orders his mac and cheese, and then, of corse, he expects it to magically appear, like we're at hogwarts or something.
Wel, when it doesn't magically appear, he starts to cry. Now, if I'd done that as a kid, I would have been told in a firm voice to be qiet and mind my manners, thats not what he got. He got picked up, and cooed at, and told that it was coming soon and if he was a good boy, he'd get it sooner. Just what the kid needs, to be told that if he's good, he'll get it sooner, then, when he was a good boy, guess what, it didn't come soon enough. So he started crying again. So, of course, logically, they gave him a sucker. I'm not sure whether the sucker was given to take the edge off his hunger, or whether it was to put something in his mouth to shut him up, either way, it didn't work. First, he didn't like the sucker, then, when he finally licked it, he loved it, and ate the whole thing.
Now, this wasn't a lollypop or anything like that, this was one of those touristy, tennis racket sized, chartoon suckers. The kind that don't have a stick, they have the whole fuckin tree. Weighs like five pounds. This kid basically inhaled this thing, actually choked once, and finally finished it and started chewing on the branch that it came on.
So, finally, we got the mac and cheese, and he ate three bites, and was full. Big surprise, since he just ingested four or five pounds of pure sugar. My uncle paul, in his infinite wisdom, decided that the reason he wasn't eating, was because he couldn't hold the fork. So he tried to feed hi, which made drew angry, which made him throw the mac and cheese onto the table, not to mention all over my lemonade.
So, my dinner was already ruined, but I sat quietly, not joining in the arguments, just trying to eat. The food wasn't bad, but I wasn't in the mood for greek food. You'd think they would et sick of greek food. I would imagine that other cultures don't want to go to a restauront that serves their culture. At least thats what I would want. I would try and sample the local fare, but not my family, they want greek food.
So then, my grandmother goes up and pays for everybody, which everybody else ets mad about and started bitching about. Then, the part that pissed me off. Googie was laying under my chair, half asleep, when it was time to go. I was told to stay at the table while my mom went to the restroom. Well, my uncle paul came up behind my chair and reached down and dragged Googie out by the harness handle, wich twisted my wrist under the chair because I was holding the leash. It also overly tightened the collar, and Googie actually whimpered in pain, which is what really pissed me off.
So, luckly, my mom saw this as she was coming back and she made paul let go of googie before I could say something to him, I was too busy trying to get the collar to losen, which tells you how tight it had gotten. So, I get Gooie to come out the right way, I check her to make sure she's ok, and then I head out to the car.
So, we start walking through the touristy part of town, which annoys me because pople are rude as hell.
Well, my mom wants an icon for her house, because she read somewhere that it braught good luck to the house. I didn't remind er that she was buyin it in a gift shop, and it was probably massed produced in china and wasn't blessed. It was juwst a picture of a woman that no one knows what she looks like anyway.
I didn't say anything, and she baught this big thing on fake wood, with leaves the guy called, bissantine leaves. I also didn't remind her that the bissantines were turkish, and thus the enemy of the greeks, and that those leaves were the pattern that the americans introduced in the 1970.s, and had nothing to do with the bissantine empire or reece.
So she baught that, and we decided to go to a pastry shop, which meant more arguing over which one to go to. Then my grandmother tried to order for me, which turned out disasterous. So I went up to the counter with a simple command, and ordered what I really wanted, and went back and sat down.
So, then, as I was eating my baked good, a family walked in who happened to be scared of dogs. Which didn't turn out well, because, they ordered their food before seeing Googie. They saw her, as they were walking passed her, and they screamed, mainly the mother, and the food fell, right on my jeans, and on Googie's fur.
So now I have a dog covered in honey and cinnamon, and jeans covered in milk. I was not having a good night.
So, we finally decided to go home. Which suited me just fine. I went home, and went upstairs, and my mom called me in to her room to tell me that Googie's ears were dirty. Which is to be expected since she gets her ears cleaned on Fridays, and yesterday was the day before Friday. So, I had to clean Googie's ears, not to mention save her from more pain since my mom was using a wash cloth with no fluid to wet it. So she was just scraping Googie's ears, that poor dog had a worst night than I did.
So, finally, I got to go to bed, and relax, and now, I have a swollen wrist, and Googie is not happy. She isn't even waging her tail, she's napping right now, but later, if it stops raining, I'm gonna take her to te pool and let her run around.
I feel so sorry for my dog, she's had a rough week. And its probably going to get worse today and tomorrow.
Well, thats my life as it stands now. I hope you enjoyed reading about it. Comment please, I'll do my best to respond.
Hope your day went better than mine did.
Cody

Ok, ok, I know I haven't posted in a while, and most of you were blown away by my last post, but c'mon, you know you enjoyed it. So, some of you didn't agree with my warped sense of religion, but most of you laughed, and Bianca was annoyed to no end, so I'm happy with it. But this a a new post, a new day, a new week, a new me... ok, sma eme.
So, lets start with what is making my life good, as some thing are actually doing that. (stop gasping and wipe the looks of shock off your faces, I have good days). So, things that make my life good.
First, all of you make my life good; and since that very sentence nearly made me ill with its sappy sweetness, I'm not going to continue with that. So, my last weekend made life good. My parents went to Georgia, and I was left home alone, with no parents, and a good supply of alcohol, which doesn't exist anymore. I had a very good time. I'm not going to give details because you don't need to know details. Suffisive to say, I had a very good time. So yeah, that was fun.
Also, long posts by my friends make my life good, I like long posts by my friends. I think you should all go to your LJ's, and write the longest post you possibly can, just for me.
So, before this post turns into an episode of barney the dinosaur, lets move on to the bad parts. Because, after all, thats what you guys look for, people are all sadists.
My parents are stupid, and I don't like them. My mom was pissed at me because I wouldn't jump up and down with her yesterday because she had closed on her house. Sorry, but I have too much dignity to jump up and down like a three year old. Obviously, my mom doesn't, and she proceeded to jump up and down around the coffee table like an indian on the war path or something. She even made up a jingle, it was absolutely sickening.
Then, as my mother was carrying on her argument, asking me why I wasn't excited, my dad got in an argument that makes me tired just to think about. So, I'll skip that.
Tonight, however, it will all come to a head. Tonight is not going to be fun in the least. I'm going to buy my plane ticket to LA today, and my mom is still in denial about the fact that I'm going. So she isn't going to be too happy, but honestly, I don't give a shit whether she's happy with it or not. I"m going, no matter what she says.
So, for now, thats my life. Its not fun, its not interesting; but you guys told me to post, so don't complain that its not long enough.
I love most of you, I don't know who reads this crap, so I can't say all of you.
I will post again and tell you how the ticket buying went.
Have a nice day,
Cody

dear readers,
I must say that, surprisingly, I'm feeling pretty good at this point in time. I really can't explain why, but I feel really happy and well, non bitchy I gues the word would be.
Yesterday, I was suddenly messaged by a cousin that I haven't seen or heard from in almost three years. It was just kind of cool.
Ok, I know this is crazy, and I'll probably regret it, but I'm thinking about seeing if I can go to Oklahoma for Christmas. I'll need to call my Grandmother and ask her, I'm not really sure I can face my Dad at this point. Not yet, but, I think part of the reason I hated him was because my mom made it look like the right thing to do. Whenever I would say something good abot him, she would act like I had just told her that everything she knew and loved was a lie and that I wasn't really her son. I'm pretty sure she's wanted to hang me for treason on several occations.
So, maybe, I can go and spedn some time in OK, and maybe, if I'm really lucky, I can see some of my old friends. If my old friends would like to comment on this saying, "sure Cody, come and see your old friends like us if you can come, that would be really fun", I would apreciate it. Oh, as long as you don't do it like that, cause that makes you sound like a smurf, and I don't associate with smurfs.
Speaking of old friends, ad I mean old as in, the longest lasting, I talked with brea last night, that was fun. It was just kind of fun to go over all the thing we did back in OSB, I won't go into details, cause some of the people reading this might not want to hear about them, or go back into those memories. It was the first time in a long time that delving into my memory bank for memories of OSB didn't really hurt.
Now all I need to do is talk to Mona and chelsea, and I'll be good. But, so I've been told, Chelsea is practically impossible to get on skipe, hmmmm, I'll have to work on that. She owes me a skipe call anyway.
S, lets see, what else is happening in my oh so wonderful life? Well, I'm workig on TRF, or The Rarity Factor, as it is more formally called. Its going really well, I've almost gotten to the part where I introduce the happy ending girl. Which is the girl that ends up being the happy ending, imagine that.
Um, I"m re-rereading Eyeglass, the new vrsion, or eyeglass 2.0 as I call it. I'm trying to be nitpicky so I can actually report back to Caitlin about it, but so far I've only found one problem; and its a tiny one at that. I guess I could say two problems, but both are miniscule.
Anyway, my mom is still sobbing over leters and messages that have anything to do with her house. Its obviously annoying, but I've gotten over it, she can bawl all she wants to, I don't care. Patrick just had surgery, I like him when he's medicated, he's quiet, he sleeps a lot. Today he is awake though, and i a lot of pain, so it might not be so happy-go-lucky. But I really don't care. I have a room I can go to.
The date for me to go to california is slowly drawing neare, although it feels like the last days of March are goig to crawl by with reluctance. I wish they would hurry up though.
I just got the decemberists discography, which I've been looking for for a long time. I had one album, but I want the entire thing, I'm selfish. So I finally found it yesterday, now I just have to get it to upload. I also found one of the Verve Pipe albums that I wanted. I would like the discography, but I haven't found a torrent for it.
Thats the poroblem with liking indi and underground music, its hard to find the discographies for it. Like, Death Cab for Cutey is coming out with an album in April, and it won't be in any stores here, I'm pretty sure of that. So I'll have to hunt it down. Luckily, I'm going to Michigan in late april, and I know a store there that will have it.
Oh yeah, thats another thing. I'm definantly going to Michigan, and mom is definantly paying for it. Which both make me happy. Two weeks away from my parents, and I don't have to pay a red cent to do it. Who can complain about that.
I found out that Jack's Manequin is going to be touring this summer, and there coming to San Diego in August, which is when I'll be there. So I'm looking in to getting tickets and transportation. I turned Bianca on to them a long time ago, and she wants to goI think. Now I've turned BP onto them, so she might want to go too.
Easter is fast aproaching for me. Since I'm greek orthodox, or my parents believe I am, my easter is usually different then western easter. Its based on some lunar shit I can't remember to details of, and its not really important to me.
My mom and I had an argument last night because she was talking about how I had to find a nice Greek girl to marry, because we aren't allowed to marry outside of the church. I flat out told her the church can kiss my ass, I'll marry who I want, be they Greek orthodox or voodooist. I don't marry for religion.
So she got mad, it was kind of fun actually. Her yelling at me because I was being blasphimus. Which is the reason I don't agree with religion anyway.
I hate the fact that it blinds people to reality. I saw a show the other day, when I was flipping through channels, it was this televangelist, who was reading letters from sick people. the couple that I stopped to hear were as follows:
letter,
dear televangelist person,
I have breast cancer. I've known this for severalmonths, but I don't want to go to the hospitl. I'm afraid to have an operation. What do I do?

televangelist:
Dear letter writer,
You don't need to do anything. God is healing you. Doctor's are nothing but tools of God. He is telling you, through your opinion and fear of doctors, that you don't need to be treated. Just pray to God, and he will heal you.

Now is that not bullshit. Basically he's saying, so you have cancer, who gives a fuck, sit there and pray and you'll be fine. Forget the fact that they could probably heal you with a simple operation. Forget the fact that this cancer is eating your body from the inside out. Forget the fact that if it spreads to your heart or your blood, you'll probably die. Forget the fact that doctor's can save your life. Forget all that, just sit on your couch, watch my television show, and pray. Oh, and send me money.

the second one was this:
letter writer
dear televangelist,
I am an elderly women who fell down the stairs in my home. I have a broken hip. What should I do?

televangelist:

dear letter writer,
God is healing your hip. He is also garrantying your safety. This will never happen again. You never have to fear falling down your stairs, because God is protecting you. You don't need to be afraid, you just need to allow God into your heart, and he will heal your hip.

Is that not a pile of crap? I mean, I was taught that God created everything, which means he also created gravity. Which means that, if she steps down her stairs and slips, she's gonna fall. Its not like God is going to come down and beat the gravity away with a stick so that she will float gingerly down to the ground. Its not like she's gonna draw a sword out of her gurdle and beat the gravity back with it like, "there can be only one gravitational pull, you canot defeat me and my titanium hip! Fuck you gravity."
Look, if you have cancer, fuck praying, fucking giving money to televangelists, go to the hospital and get treatment. If your an old lady who can't walk down stairs and can't swordfight with gravity, then buy a house with only one story. Oh, and get a titanium hip.
I just think its pathetic that people honestly believe that they can speak into thin air and a miracle will happen. I can't believe that no one has noticed that, when good things happen, it because of a human intervention. A doctor saves your life, a policeman shoots the guy raping you, a fireman grabs your burning baby and throws her into a net before jumping himself. These were all done by people with special training and equipment. The doctor is trained to heal, the policeman is trained to shoot rapists, the firman is trained to leap on top of burning babies. Its not god, its people.
However, if a bad thing happens, like your son dies in a fiery crash when he was drunk, you blame God. Its, "oh God why did you do this to me?" God didn't do it to you, the fifth of Vodka your son had before getting behind the wheel of a car did it to you. Maybe you should yell at the vodka, maybe it can perform miracles. Maybe the vodka can bring your son back.
People should start believing in people, not some book that they can't even agree on when it was written, and facts they can't prove, and baseless events with no evidence that they blindly put faith in. Question thing people, question things. Its fun, question everything, if it doesn' make sense, don't do it, don't believe in it, ignore it.
And for those of you who will read this and say, "Cody your going to hell for this" I say, "your vission of hell is wrong, its not fire and brim stone and burning forever, thats a metaphore. Its just a world with no god. But since I don't believe there's a god here, I'm already in hell, so what the hell do I care if I go to a new hell."
So, thats my views on life and religion and all sorts of things you didn't really care about.
OH, and as for politics in african countries, we have enough problems in america to be concerned with other peoples problems. You guys have the biggest popuation of animals in the world, if your hungry, kill something and eat it like the rest of us do.
So, I hope you enjoyed my ranting, as pointless as it was. This is the point where I say, goodbye, and have a nice day.

Ok, I was sitting on my couch and I was struck with these questions. So I decided I'd write a poem.
I realize I'm not a frost or a dickinson. But hey, I never claim to be, so bare with me.
Now, if you wonder why I don't use punctuation, read E. E. Comings.
So here's the poem.

Why do we love

Why do we lock our hearts
And not let anyone in

Why to we fail to feel what we feel
When it doesn’t feel right

Why do we build homes in our hearts
That fall apart, yet we still live in them

We do we cling to the last vestages
Of a life we once loved
And never really see the life we love now

Why do we deny the ones who love us
Wsimply because we fear we can’t be loved

Why do we love blindly
And yet expect to see what it is we love

Why do we lock the door to our hearts
Yet look to see who it is that is knocking

Why do we love
And yet fear to love at all


So, enjoy it, think about it, reread if you have to. See if you can answer the question. I can't, I don't think they have any answers.
Leave a comment if you like it, or if you don't. Just give me some feedback.

Ok, I'd like to start this entry out by saying hat I am, amazingly, in a good mood. I usually get this way at night, when the house is quiet and I have the run of the place. Which is now, so I'm in a good mood.
I'd also like to sy, yay for torrents. I can't tell you how many things I've gotten off of them, things it would have cost hundreds of dollars to get. And who spends money on music anymore?
So, I told my parents that I am moving to california, they didn't like the idea. They started saying that I was abandoning the, and if my going there partly because I simply don't want to be within the same time zone as them counts as abandoning them, then I'm abandoning them. However, thats a very small reason for my going. I could go to OU and not be in the same time zone, but I would be near my father, and have very few resources. Los Angeles has many resources, so yay for los angeles.
Well, it turns out that morgan still has feelings for me, this is my surprised face. That girl never lets go. I won't talk bad abot her hear, if you want me to do that, send me an email. However, I heard things about her that make it impossible for me to be mad at her, so I'm not mad at her. Eventually she'll get bored of liking someone who hardly talks to her, so I'm not worried about it.
Anyway, thats about as much as I can dredge out of my life a this point. Perhaps later my life will become more interesting and you guys can actually enjoy these posts. Until them, read them anyway, for my benefit and my self esteem.

It is difficult for me to begin this entry, as it is difficult for me to know where the story begins. I can't really list the events in order of importance, as they are all important in there own way. So lets just write and see what comes up.
First, I'm not going to California in may. Caitlin decided against it, which I knew was a risk from the beginning. I won't say that I wasn't disappointed, but I understand why she, and her mother, made the decision they did. I hold no grudge against them for it.
However, as if in consolation for that disappointment, my sister invited me to go up to Michigan ad stay with he for a while. So, I think I'll do that. My mother is willing to buy my plane ticket, which is good, as I am trying to save my money. So, I will at least get the break from my mother I was looking for.
Next, Bianca and I are dating again. I was wrong to do what I did, I know that now. I didn't give her a chance to fix the situation. I should have done that from the start. She was willing to, I just didn't give her the chance to do it.
So, we're trying again. She was willing to tak me back, I was lucky enough that she did. So, we'll see what happens this time.
As for my family situation, its getting worse almost daily.My mother has taken to crying and drinking because she is feeling unapreciated at work. Now, I know it must be difficult to deal with that, no one wants to feel unapreciated. But the things she complais about are just not worth what she does.
She usually complains abot people being stupid, well that just isn't worth gettig depressed over. So, I find it hard to muster a lot of sympathy for it. Maybe because, when I was in the same situation, she didn't listen to me. Maybe I have a slight grudge there.
Also, she is complaining about my stepdad being gone all the time. Which, I admit, I have absolutely no sympathy for. She knew what the risks were going into the relationship, now she has to live with them.
Honestly though, I think I'm just tired of listening to it. I listened to her complain in Michigan for four years. Now I've listened to it in florida for three years. I'm just tired of it. I don't think she'll ever have nothing to complain about. C'est le vie I suppose.
Next, I've made a decision. I'm moving to california. More specifically, to los angeles. My friend, BP, whose name shall remain a mystery, has offered to rent me a room for a rate I can afford. I'll live near both a small college, and to CSULA. If I get in to the latter, then so be it, bt I honestly don't think I will.
I think I'll end up at the community college, which doesn't bother me in the slightest. If I get a two year degree from the community college,I get a pick of the cal state universities. As for which one of those I would pick, I don't know.
So, at least for now, I ha ve a little bit of stability. I have something I can look forward to in the summer.
I think, however, I'll try and compromise with BP to move in in the middle of June. She might say no though, and I would understand that. She is getting married in June after all. She might not want me there before that. Either way. I'll be there for the wedding, and for the national braille challenge. Which is when I'll get to see Bianca and Caitlin. Along with some other friends.
So, that is my life as I know it. For the moment at least. HOpe you enjoyed reading about it, as much as I enjoyed writing abot it.

So, I first created this journal for things I felt I couldn't tell anyone, save for a few people. However, somone pointed out that it would be difficult to keep up with two journals. Then I realized, I have no secrets to keep. So, this is the new journal.
So, my life, lets start last week. It was filled with soort of arguments. I say sort of, because I don't think I can cal them full fedged arguments. they were between Bianca and I. I'm not entirely sure why, but we seem to be kind of pulling back from each other alitle bit. Its strange that I can't remember a conversation when wedidn't end up in some sort of debate or minor altercation. I really can't explain it any better than that, I realize how abstract it is.
So, college, that is a very interesting subject. As many of you know, I had an aplication in to cal state LA. I found out last week that it was denied because I didn't have enough classes. So, I am working on fixing that since, in reallity, I did have enough classes, the application just screwed up. So, then, once I had that kind of figured out. I did a little more research, because I still didn't have a good enough score to get in. I found out that I actually didn't meet requirements to graduate from high school in the state of florida.
So, I did some research as to how I got a deploma. I found out, that about four years ago, the president of FSDB, sent a letter to the governor telling him that the students did not have the mental capacity to graduate under normal circumstances. So, the florida government, lowered the standards for FSDB, so, I graduated, but only because I went to FSDB.
For example, everyone has to have foreign languages in high school, but FSDB doesn't offer any. Everyone has to have a performing arts class, but FSDB doesn't offer any. And why don't they offer these classes. Well, because they have to make rom for the prepartion classes, that don't do shit.
Literally, I had a class where we did nothing but sit and listen to our teacher talk on the phone. Everyday, se was on the phone, and we sat in her room talking to each other. I think I might have done three assignments in that class. But it was required for every single senior to take.
So, basically, I have to throw myself on the mercy of every college just to try and get in. The only college that knows, is a little college in ST. Augustine, that is just down the road from the school.
Now, the blind readers might be asking, how can someone just let that happen. And I don't have an answer for you, but I am considering writing a letter to thegovernor. I just don't think it will do anything. I'm also considering alling the newspaper and reporting them.
I don't think the school is going to last much longer, at least not as it is. They've been reported four times in the last two years. But, its not my problem anymore.
So, thats my life, as it stands now. Nothing is really happening, nothing is really going well though. Somehow though, I'm still cheerful. I do miss Caitlin though.
So, this isthe new LJ, hope you like it. Feel free to post an comments you feel like posting I can actually be notified when someone posts now.
Thanks for reading, and have a nice day.

For now, only one person will be reading this, but as that was what this was made for, I'm not all that depressed about the lack of publicity. Perhaps, one day, I'll reveal it to the public, but for now, its the domain of me and one other person. I will do my best not to write this as if it were a letter to the girl who will read this, but I might slip at some points.
Let me begin by introducing the premiss. First, the thesis, I like Caitlin. I've liked her for two years, and now she knows it.
She knows it because I finally got tired of not telling her, so I told her. Now, most people would cheer and expect a fairy tale ending, but that isn't a easy in real life. The prince doesn't always get the princess after he wakes her with a kiss. I learned that long agao.
Now, for the complications. I'm dating a girl, who is not Caitlin. I'm dating one of her best friends, which just makes it look even worse. However, I have to end it. I can't go on thinking that I'm happy where I am, because I'm just not. I'm simply and finally not happy in the relationship I'm in. It is not working, and if I wait, I will only be hurting me and her more than is necessary.
So, Caitlin and I have reached a lose agreement, to use a lose term. We will be friends, we will be the best of friends that we can be. Just as we have been for the two years I've known her. That was the spoken part of our agreement. The silent part, or mysilent part, was that I would wait. I will be strong, and I will wait until she is ready.
I fully realize the difficulty of this promise. I've been told over and over again by trusted friens that I shouldn't, that I should forget it, and forget her, but I can't. I haven't been able to forget her for two years, and I am too logica to think that I could do it now. It isn't going to happen, so I wait.
As for Caitlin's silent agreement, I don't know. Maybe she hasn't made one, maybe she is more relaxed then I am. I admit this is more probable, as I usually over complicate things.
Now, for the mistakes. I made the mistake tongith, of reading back in Caitlin's live journal. Back to the times when I would read her new posts, and my fist would involuntarily clench, and a knot would form in my gut. I would read the words, the words that she uses so eloquently to show her feelings. And I could see her in my min, and usually, for some reason, she would be crying.
I culd hear the conversations she had with her friends, and every time it would anger me, but I couldn't do anything about it, which would anger me evenmore. Those were the times that I tried hardest to forget, I tried hard not to see the beautiful girl in my mind, not to hear the beautiful voice that I heard. I tried and tried, and failed. The one thing I did succeed in, was convincing myself that it was my good nature that was causing the anger. It was just because she was being hurt, not because I liked her, and wanted to protect her. I managed to convince myself that I didn't like her. I lied to myself, and to her, and to everyone who knew me.
But, I can't do that anymore. I can't lie to myself, and blind myself to the fact that I like her. I can't reason my way to the conclusion that I am just being a nice person. It doesn't work. And I don't want it to.
And so, I told her, I told her how I felt about her. And we talked, and we agreed to be friends. I'm not complaining about that, I would rather be friends with her than anyone else in the world. I am also not saying that I wasn't hurt.
I can't say, honestly, that I didn't sometimes imagine myself as the one she lied. I can't say I never imagined us together. And I can't count how many times I had to erase the word Cdy and replace it with Ryan. Only to notice that I had writtne Caitlin in the place of Melissa.
And so, that is where I stand. As disjointed as it sounds, is as disjointed as I feel. Or perhaps, incomplete is a better word, I don't know. But it is how the wrold stands for me.
But that is only the past and the present. There is still the future, and that is the real subject of this post. As the future is where my true feelings are most easily expressed.
I will not say that I hope to move to california and that I believe she will be waiting for me with open arms. I'm not that naive. It is not that future that I am in reference to.
At the present, my thaughts of the future are completely inveloped by the first weekend in May. When I will fly to California and accompany Caitlin to her senior ball.
And when I think about that weekend, I fear it.
I am not afraid that I will be hurt by that weekend, I am prepared for that. It is nearly inevitable. No, what I fear is that I am not strong enough.
I fear that when we dance, if we dance, I will lose my self control. I fear that, if we are alone, I will lose all self control, and I will do the thing that I fear and want most.
I fear that, we would get home from the dance, and I will open the door for her, and she will thank me for taking her. I fear that, I will reach out hor her, and I will draw her in, and I will kiss her. I fearthat above everything else, because that, would most likely destroy it. It would probably destroy everything, the friendship. her confidence in me, and most importantly, her trust. I fear that I will sacrifice everything for that one blissful moment.
But above all, above all other fears I have, I fear Eric. I hate admitting that, and it is not out of jealousy or malice that I far him. It is because of what he has done to her. I fear that he will say the words that she has written about. The words that will bring back the memories, and that her spirates will fall. I fear the helplessness that I would feel at that moment.
What would I do in that instant? What would I do if he hurt her?
Honestly, that is my biggest fear of all, that she will be hurt. I care about her too much to let that happen, and yet I don't see anything I could do out of respect for her.
However, even with these fears, and the possibility of them coming to pass, I will be in California the first weekend in May. I will take her to the dance, and I will do everything I can possibly do to show her the best time I can. I owe that to her, and she deserves it.
I couldn't back out because of that, I would never forgive myself. I couldn't bare the thaught that I had disappointed her.

And so, I wait, I have waited for two years for this chance. I may not be strong enough to resist her, I may not get a moments sleep that entire weekend because my thaughts will be swirlig with thaughts of her, but I am strong enough to wait. I must wait. And I am willing to wait. I am willing to be the friend she needs, I am willing to be a shouldedr for her to cry on, or just someone she can talk to. I am fully prepared to fill that place, and I will do it happily. She deserves that. And I will wait.
that is all I can do at this point.
Perhaps, things will change, perhaps something will change her mind, and she will allow me in. But I won't push he to do anything she isn't ready for. Any decision from this point on, will be hers; and that is a promise.

And so, I've said where I stand. If my feelings about her are not clear, it is because I am not sure of there extent. But that is simply how I feel. I've said it, for better or worse, it has been said.
And now I end this. For her to read, and I hope. And that is that.

Dear readers, or reader, as the case stands now. I created this journal, so that I can put into writing, the thaughts that I cannot say on my other journal. It is a way for me to communicate without having to worry about people I don't want, reading my thaughts.
I needed a place like this. So, hear it is, for all of you to enjoy. Or, anyone I want to enjoy it.
And now, on with the emotional entries.