The Ranting Stephen: Glad to See I'm Still Here

Current mood: calm

Ranting Stephen: Glad To See I'm Still Here

I don't intend to write too much tonight but knowing me, I might end up writing a book.

Hey! I've got over 1500 blog views! That means somewhere out there people are stealing my feelings. Bastards. (not literally though, in the insult way)

I won't go into details about the situation because It's not entirely my story to tell, and so without permission from the involved parties, I will not give away their identities. It's the code of honor I try to live by. So I'll be as vague as possible without obscuring the point of my story in the fog.

Recently, I offered up the use of my body as a gift. I had planned to use it to bring physical pleasure to the person(s) the gift was intended for. Not sex, but for everything else. Up to home base, but getting out on a fly ball and having to touch up on third again. (wow, Stephen making an analogy using sports) I had planned it for three days, working out all possible angles and solutions to any problems that may arise. I didn't want to get caught, but then who does?

Now my reasons for doing this was none other than to fulfill my own carnal desires. (Carnal: pertaining to or characterized by the flesh or body) Yes, even I give in to the urge sometimes. figured it would work out both ways: I'd be giving a unique gift that would be nearly impossibe to forget, and I'd pick up some experience points as well. Books and porn can only teach you so much after all.

The day to present the gift had arrived. I was supposed to get to school at 745 so we (said person(s) and I) could have plenty of time to mess around before classes started and the chances of being caught would sky rocket. I was running a little late (as I do 50 percent of the time) so I rushed to our meeting spot. I was alone. I checked my phone and sure enough , I had received a text message almost a half hour early saying The person(s) would not be arriving. No big deal right? Just try again tomorrow.

And so we made plans to try again the next day.

Then later on that night, the other party decided they did not want to go as far as third base anymore. Some"shyt" happened during the day... blah blahh blahhh. When I read it, somewhere inside, I was relieved. Only I hadn't realized that's what I was feeling. I responded by saying (paraphrased) "As you wish" . A short conversation ensued, and what I wanted to do somehow came up in the conversation. I said that personally, I'd prefer to just present a picture that I would draw because it requires hard work and dedication; something lost in just hooking up with someone. The party responded "Fineee... just draw me the picture"

I responded by saying I would still go through with the original plan because that's what they wanted, not the picture.

If you heard those words like I did (I hear written words in peoples' voices)then you'd understand why I got upset from reading it. To me, it was an insult. It was I who offered to give my services and it was my choice to go through with it. How could you be upset that I thought a hand-drawn picture would be a more meaningful gift than that? Then, you should be happy I even planned a gift for you, regardless of what it was.

I decided I wasn't going to give a gift at all anymore. It would go unappreciated. And I began thinking of how I would break it to the party why I wouldn't give the gift. Amidst these thoughts, I came to a realization: I felt guilty.

I felt guilty about using the party as a tool. I felt guilty about stringing along the party, knowing that the only reason they'd go through with it because they liked me. I felt guilty because I like a girl who I think might be a good girl, and this would only add to that feeling of me being wrong for her. And most of all I felt guilty for asking myself to go through with it. I couldn't do it with all of that on my conscience.

And so I didn't. I got to school late.

And that's what this was all about. Despite my constantly adapting personality-which disappoints me just as much as it amazes me- I've still managed to retain my original personality. As much as I wanted to ditch it and change it to improve myself, I'm still there. That's the one I grew up with, and It's the one I'll never forget. I thought I'd lost sight of who I was, and I haven't.

I'm glad to see you're still here Stephen.

The Ranting Stephen: I Want to Sleep Again

Current mood: exhausted

Ranting Stephen: I Want To Sleep Again

I know that the title sounds weird but that's what Titles do. I did some thinking over the last few days and I realized that I'm almost always tired. And in the last few days I haven't been having a good nights sleep. I'm constantly waking up and turning over and going back to sleep( like in the commercials) I am a light sleeper, too. At least now I am. I can hear my phone vibrate in my sleep and wake up to answer it.

But the bed isn't why I can't sleep... not entirely . (I'm sure it would help to get a Serta sleep comfort bed or Posture Pedic or something...) The reason I don't sleep is because I have conscious dreams. When a person who isn't me goes to sleep, they have dreams just as everyone does.(Even you, whether or not you remember it, you do in fact dream) But when they dream, they watch their dreams. They are in their dreams, but it is more like a movie to them. Usually. But then there are dreams that are called "Lucid Dreams". These dreams occur when the dreamer becomes aware of their dream and become active in it. They turn from a movie to a video game, so to speak.

My problem is, I don't start off watching my dreams. I'm already in my dream before I get a chance to sit down and enjoy it. I haven't NOT had a Lucid dream in years. Lucid dreams are great, don't get me wrong. In Lucid dreams, you are in control. Depending on your skill level, (oh yes, it does take skill) you can control yourself to anyone and everything in your dream world. You control their actions, who you want them to be, what you want them to be wearing.... You get it. There have been dreams where I've stopped time and relived some of the events that went on in the real world. And I can do it just about whenever I want sometimes. I get a lot of practice, what can I say.

But that's just it. When you have these kind of dreams, you don't get to relax. If you just turn yourself off and pretend you are not having this dream, you stand still, but the dream goes on without you doing anything. You don't get to sleep because you automatically interact with the dream as though you were awake. Even your 5 senses are active at this point. (that is to say, you consider yourself only to have five...but that's a completely different topic) That's what I mean by a conscious dream. You're awake, but you get to enjoy all the freedoms of being asleep. Except for the sleep part.

The Dreams I have are devoid of all meaning. You know flying dreams? Where you fly the whole time and you soar through the skies and all that stuff? never Had one. Never. I can fly in my dreams, but only for a limited time. Like in Superman 64 (WORST GAME EVER!!!) I don't even have nightmares anymore. No really. I've got to much control. The last nightmare I had, a demon fell out of my ceiling and on top of me. I was scared, but then I changed it into a sex dream. (Nasty, I know) I raped that demon till I woke up. The one before that, I was in a black void and monsters were attacking me. (probably Demons again.) Using my dream control powers, I started narrating my dream as though it was a book. I said that I was Cloud Strife (FF7) and I used omnislash and killed all of them... but I lost my pants somewhere. Where is the deep voice of my subconscious trying to tell me something? It's not there. My consciousness killed the beasts, not my subconscious.

I need sleep. Sleep is an essential part of the life cycle. There are 4 stages of sleep, each taking place at different interval during the night. The final stage, REM sleep, is the most important. This stage is when you are your deepest sleep and you are dreaming AND(most important) you are refreshing your body and restoring energy. When you wake up without enough of this final stage, it could actually have the reverse effect where you wake up tired and cranky (sleep and emotional balance are one in the same). I don't get that last stage. I'm still in either the second or third stage where you are aware of your environment, can still activate movement in my body (I sleep talk, but not walk), and you can easily be awaken. I've not a good night's sleep in a long time.

I just want to sleep again. And I don't mean sleep as in "sleep", I want to be at peace. My mind needs to be asleep. I want to be like Joseph in Joseph and the Technicolor Dreamcoat. Meaning is key. I've got none. I've got no sleep either. I'm so tired. I just want to sleep. I just want to sleep. Don't put me to sleep, but let me sleep. Maybe Lunesta helps. I Want to Sleep Again.

The Ranting Stephen: The Poetry In Pain

Current mood: crushed

Ranting Stephen:The Poetry In Pain

As I sat, staring at my imperfections in the mirror, I wondered why I am this way. Why is it that I can only write poetry when I'm sad? In fact, it is not what has been written that is the essence of poetry, but the language being spoken. It is the infinite romanticism that entwines my thoughts, betwixt the sorrow and the vexation.

When the world brings me down, I find that I over dramatize its already harsh blows and make it harder on myself. i find myself using vocabulary that is uncommon even for me in my normal speech. But from whence does it spring? What causes these utterations of pure fantasy to release during these episodes of animosity towards my surroundings?

As I sat and stared at my imperfections in the mirror, I asked myself, Why do you feel like crying? Is this something worth crying over? Why don't you cry then? Why can't you cry? You sit here, alone in your room and you can't even cry in front of yourself? Why is it you choke back your tears when there is no one here to see them?
I never do get an answer.

As I stood and saw the mass of imperfections that only I could see, I realized... It's not worth it. That's why. I've been through worse. Then I see that I've lost the poetic voice in my head. The sadness is gone, the anger has passed, and the tears have dried up again. They lie in wait, for the next time I over react. But as for me... I need a book. I call myself a crybaby, then laugh, and move on with my life. Such is the Life of Stephen.
Now, as I stand in awe of the reflection of imperfection I see in the mirror I say... "Your so Vain"
I feel better now.