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Randomness in its true form--not unintelligible, just inconsistent. Archives  
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11.28.2007
An update from my last update. I have now changed blogs again, but I think this time it might be for good. Odd One Out: Reality with a refreshing slice of aspie Labels: aspie, blog, lastcrazyhorn, lch, odd one out (0) comments 9.03.2006
New DirectionI have decided to change blogs. I wanted to start blogging again, but I didn't want to have to completely revamp this one. So I just uprooted to a new location. It's called stoP And Inch North. Weird much? (0) comments 9.02.2006
NostalgicEvery now and then, I think about this place, just sitting here . . . doing nothing. It makes me sad, I guess. I mean, incredible as it seems, I started this blog back before 9/11. And since then, I have graduated high school, graduated college, written a book (currently being edited), made several lifelong friends, extended my horn range from 2 and a ½ octaves to 4 and a ½ octaves, found my soul . . . among other things, and discovered that life is worth living. Madness. (0) comments 11.06.2005
There was a point somewhere in my life where the phrase, "I'm thinking about taking my own life," took on another meaning beyond the self-centered one that I had previously known. For although I never heard the words out loud (personally or otherwise), they had always held a certain kind of charm for me. That is of course, until April 4th, 2005. My friend, really one of the only friends I had had in high school, was found dead in a bathroom . . . with a gun. And I couldn't go to his funeral, because I was out of town at the time. So I wasn't ever officially able to say goodbye. . . . Except online. I wish I could see your face once more. That's all I want. I swear. I'm sorry I couldn't have helped. (0) comments 4.04.2004
(0) comments 1.27.2004
Have you ever felt like all of your creative juices have been sucked out by the weight of the world??? I swear, I haven't written poetry in over a year. I've been too busy with college and life . . . Life, now there's a funny thing. I didn't used to have one. Now? Now it's just very busy. Sometimes I wonder why I'm a music major. The rest of the time I'm just glad that music exists, because it makes damn good sense to me! You know, I could become an alcoholic if I wanted to. Why would I want to though? It's not like I got up one day and said to myself, "Self--I think I'll be an alcoholic when I grow up." Neh. I just sort of think that I have the sort of personality that could definitely become addicted. However, as long as my schedule is so packed full that I barely have time to sit, eat, sleep or breathe . . . I certainly don't think I'll have enough time to do something like become addicted to alcohol or whatever. I've closed myself off to poetry. I don't think I can easily get that deep anymore. What the hell happened to me? Maybe I'll get it back someday. (0) comments 1.01.2004
Creative WritingJust a thought I want to try out . . . The vine pressed into my arm. Its thick green leafiness had already cut bright red welts into my skin. I had been fighting it for the past half hour. It had me by the arms and the legs; and now it was trying to loop a strand around my neck. Sweat dripped into my eyes, for I was unable to lift my hand to wipe it away. I noticed, with yet more unease, that my feet were losing purchase on the wet ground. I was creating two parallel muddy tracks as I was dragged backwards into the awaiting mouth. "No!" I shouted out. "I'm not ending my life like this! I won't be food for some homicidal plant!" I fought and cussed and kicked; but it was for no avail. The plant fought back by raising its sharp thorns and battering them down on my head and arms. Now, instead of sweat streaming down my face, it was now blood. I was nearly in its mouth and I knew I couldn't hold out much longer. I knew this wasn't a fairy tale. There was no happy ending here, ladies and gentlemen. And then suddenly I was in its mouth. I could feel its teeth begin to rip my warm flesh into bloody chunks. I screamed as I felt my arm ripped from its socket. I saw the blood stream down what was left of my skin and body and bone. And then, before I left the world as I knew it, I swear I heard the thing laugh and shout, "My, what a tasty morsel we have here!!!" And I shrieked--and everything went dark. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Interesting columnsOdd One Out Rubber Ducky, Still Holding On Common Sense for the Masses Bok Choy Gurl There Is No Spoon These come from Backwash.com. Cool place. (0) comments
Contact me at: lastcrazyhorn AT gmail DOT com |
