[Nite_Owl]'s diary

1011497  Link to this entry 
Written about Wednesday 2008-02-13
Written: (6127 days ago)
Next in thread: 1011559, 1011720

So, today after second period I had to go home for the fact that I basically could hardly speak or breathe my throat hurt so bad. Not to mention my headache (I don't usually get headaches, and when I do....well, they're bad). I waited for a full hour before my step-mother came to get me. As I was leaving, hobbling on outside with a hand clapped to my forehead like an idiot, this other girl that had been in the health office told me that she hopes I feel better and smiled.

It always makes me feel better knowing that at least one person still has a heart for strangers. Love and peace to whoever you are.

1009161  Link to this entry 
Written about Saturday 2008-02-02
Written: (6138 days ago)

So today we got to see GEORGE CARLIN! In person! In our own town! Crazy madness, it is! I have no idea why the hell he'd want to come out here at all, really I don't, but it's still fucking awesome.

It made me sad though, to realize that he's just turned 70 years old. All my favorite people are either dead or about ready to die. It sucks, really.

But yeah, he was hilarious. He had some guy start for him named Something Blaire, and he was pretty damn funny too. All in all, a decent day. But lots of homework so I can't stay too long. Just thought I'd put up a normal chillaxed diary entry for once :)

Love and peace.

1005171  Link to this entry 
Written about Wednesday 2008-01-16
Written: (6155 days ago)
Next in thread: 1005284

I exploded in Spanish today. For no reason. Danny (a guy that I secrety hate and wish to hurt, but I woudn't tell his best friend that) ran into me during a stupid pointless activity, probably actually by accident, but the way he didn't care anooyed me, so I threw the chalk down, slammed my hand on the chalkboard to erase what I wrote and smacked him hard in the back of the head shoting "Stop being a fucking asshole!"....literally, in front of the class. So we started yelling for a short bit, and after thinking about it for a few minutes, I realized I had no idea why I was yelling at him. At all. It just sort of came out, and I went for it.

This anger thing is getting worse. And it bothers me. It didn't use to much, when my anger was generally logical, but to burst out swearing and shouting for a little bump is not logical. I'm losing it. I can feel it in the pit of my stomach, aching. I wish I knew how to stop it. I wish I knew if someone could help me.

I need help.

994334  Link to this entry 
Written about Friday 2007-11-23
Written: (6209 days ago)
Next in thread: 994340

Things I'm Thankful For:

1. My perfect girlfriend that makes me feel very patient sometimes XP
2. My amazing friends who are just too complicated and quirky to describe
3. The people I've met on here, expecially people like Squee, Shining Light, Akayume, Cat-chan, and eveyone else. Love (and extreme rape where applicable) for you all! >:D
4. Elftown, for being the most amazing site ever, and for bringing out my best writing skills which inspired me to now become an English Lit Major/Professor :D
5. Stephen King for being alive and as crazy as he is--don't die before I meet you, you bastard!
6. Great Britan as a whole for multiple reasons, but especially Ireland, land of me fathers :D -- and Owlie <3 Wales (which is a country, btw).........(the irony of this particular number cracks me up a few minutes after writing it XD)
7. Canada for being Canadian and ignored entirely by everyone else, and for spelling correctly by ignoring Americans.
8. Nighttime, and sleep, which I'm off to do, so...

Happy Thanksgiving, Americans, be bloody grateful! XD

987138  Link to this entry 
Written about Saturday 2007-10-27
Written: (6236 days ago)
Next in thread: 987256

I guess I'm being punished. For what, I'm not certain, but I can't think of a better explanation.

I feel empty now. I've never felt such a true apathy before, and it hurts. I can't smile or lie or cry or anything at all really. I don't know what to think or what to say. It seems I just wasn't meant to trust people.

Funny. Just a couple days after I finally believed, here comes mistrust to ruin it all over again. And all I can feel is the self-loathing. Because it's always me that's in the wrong.

Because my own blame and hate are the only things I can control anymore.

986087  Link to this entry 
Written about Wednesday 2007-10-24
Written: (6239 days ago)
Next in thread: 986100, 986185

So I guess nobody cares enough to even possibly glance at the two entries below this? I realized that no one ever really talks to me of their own will any more. Kinda of depressing, really, and disappointing.

I'd say I'm sorry but I'm feeling too much like wenting at the moment about absolutely nothing right now, not to mention it'd feel like lying. Seriously, it'd be nice to have a comment every now and then, just on anything at all, even a simple "How are you?" would suffice. Just a few little words to reassure me that I'm not a complete fuck-up loner in life that no one cares about and stop me from thinking these thoughts.

Nevermind. Forget what I said.

It's not like you'll read this anyways.

985459  Link to this entry 
Written about Monday 2007-10-22
Written: (6241 days ago)

"Los Angeles County fire officials announced that several Malibu neighborhoods were being evacuated today, and local school district leaders canceled Monday classes at five public schools near the fire.

Elsewhere, fire officials said that the Agua Dulce fire has exploded in the Canyon Country area. They have ordered evacuations of 800 homes and say that evacuation centers have been set up at Quartz Hill High School and Saugus High School."


That means that we might not have school tomorrow :D Which would be awesome, since it's also me and my girlfriend's anniversary tomorrow. Though I do feel bad for the people being evacuated. We've been lucky enough to not have to (yet) but we almost have before, and it's not fun. Damn our severe winds and low humidity >:(

985220  Link to this entry 
Written about Sunday 2007-10-21
Written: (6242 days ago)

This is an excerpt of what may possibly be in my "novel" I'm writing this November. It was a prompt ("muddy boots") on one of the boards on the site. Came out rather nice, methinks, and longer than I thought at about 680 words. Comments please!! (I don't think anyone will, but it'd be awfully nice...please...? At least read it!)




   I can rarely recall any memory with such vividness with which I used to, when I could remember every detail of every dream and every memory that quivered by on even the most evasive and frail of wings. My brother’s face escapes me often when I try to think of home, but I do hark back to one lucid memory.
   He had just returned from the war. His hair was slick with oil and rainwater from the storm raging outside, and when he entered it was impossible to miss, not only because of his normal cinematic entry but for the wind attempting to siege our house as the door banged open with its force. Matthew grinned with a concise little chuckle, mocking sheepishness, as he shoved the door close on the desperate wind, his muscles, fruits of the many years of hard labor and toil and training and pain, straining in perfect unison. The reality stood clear and harsh as he stepped into the light, revealing an unshaven sharp jaw-line and hardened eyes of steely gray: the little Matty that left all ambitious and excited to do some good and have some fun was no more. In his place stood a man, a bold and brusque man with morals and ideals and a want to change the world in any way he could manage (and not necessarily to do good). Still that familiar smile shone through his rock of a visage and we crowded around him once the image settled in, eager to embrace him with us once more.
   He talked of his many travels, through snow and sand and clouds and mud and rain and blood. He talked of our letters to him and apologized for the ones he never answered. He talked of his sergeant and his officer, men as hardened as he was now no doubt, and of his companions of the war. He talked of wounds and scars, even showed us a few, and of how he lost his finger a year ago (an anomaly overlooked by yours truly, but certainly not by our mother, who always did have a rather compulsory attention to detail). Most of all, however, Matthew talked of the blood. Of it covering his hands, covering his gun and clothes. Of it splattered on the walls of the buildings they infiltrated. Of it on the bullets he shot. Of it flooding his dreams on darker, lonelier nights. And the unspoken: of the blood that filled more pleasant dreams and filled is very waking thoughts without ever provoking disgust, without ever causing a flinch of even minimal surprise.
   When the lights were dimmed and the family began to head towards their respected habitats for sleep, I followed my brother to converse alone with him on the things he hadn’t said. I guessed a few simpler ones, which he laughed at casually, like the good innocent brothers we once were. But when I questioned his true dreams, his true thoughts, he retreated subtly, those gray-ice eyes shifting away towards the hardwood floor beneath his feet. I provoked him, asked again; I wanted an answer. Finally he gave in, not from weakness but from his ties and unspoken allegiances to me.
   “Every day I see them. Their blood just...surrounds everything. It never goes away once you’ve fired that first shot. You’re always thirsty, always needing more of it, always searching for it. It never goes away.”
   I nodded solemnly, trying to understand as I rested my elbows on my knees to save my energy for thinking. As I looked for words to break the foreboding silence, I noticed he hadn’t taken off his boots yet; in fact, he hadn’t take off anything yet. Perhaps he had grown used to the feeling of a load on his back and on his heart. I commented lightly on the battered muddy state of his footwear, and we once more began small-talk, forgetting the question.
   Somehow, though, I think I knew that beneath the caked dirt and silence of his tales that stains of deepest scarlet threatened to reveal themselves. Perhaps he wanted it that way. Perhaps it was best to just forget.
979383  Link to this entry 
Written about Thursday 2007-09-27
Written: (6266 days ago)
Next in thread: 979921

They talk about the simple things: plants growing, babies smiling and waving, the weather and the dirtying of the pool out back. Nobody even attempts to mention it, except her. "I wonder why she has to go back to the doctor? I mean, anything they find is small potatoes compared to..." So close, yet she doesn't say it. The rest ignore the mentioning, or at least ignore it enough to not be noticed by others and therefore compelling them to acknowledge the thoughts. That train of thought runs rampant and out of control through each of our minds, destroying everything that gets in its way yet still the words come empty. We sit on the patio, discussing golf and swimming and the new bike, about driving lessons and physical therapy, about the baby to be expected in the following months.

But no one, not even she, mentions the cancer.

972608  Link to this entry 
Written about Sunday 2007-09-02
Written: (6291 days ago)
Next in thread: 972642

Guess whaaaaaaaaaat?

Tis almost Owlie's birthday!! (^,^)

Owlie's turning 16 this year, on Tuesday actually (the 4th). Quite a few of you are probably surprised at my age, since most of me buddies here apparently thought I was at least 17-20 :P Flattering, if rather incorrect.

Things have been rather busy around here lately, not to mention aggravating and angsty, but it seems that the storm clouds blew over and things are alright mostly now.

Also, I may be going to England and Scotland this summer! :D So anyone who lives around there should come hang out with us, cause we're awesome lulz. Not really...but seriously, come chillax with us peeps in London XD omg craziness

So anyways, those are the biggest things going on mostly. I'll be on very little tomorrow, and maybe Monday, and Tuesday......well, you'll see me eventually :P

Owlie--out!

967390  Link to this entry 
Written about Thursday 2007-08-16
Written: (6308 days ago)

Well, school has started once again, and already I'm getting plenty of homework. I have about three chapters of reading plus an outline for at least one of them, an essay to write, daily math hw (no surprise there though), and random other silly things. Fun fun. I have a very full schedulre this year, so I'll be plenty busy.

My classes (in order):
- Psychology
- Biology HL/1
- AP US History (a LOT of reading here)
- Mathematics HL/1 (aka Calculus)
- AP English Lang. and Comp.
- Spanish HL/1 (aka Spanish 3 IB)

No breaks in between those really as far as an "easy" class goes. Psych. and Bio. aren't that bad, but the rest are a bit stressful.

I'll still be on fairly often, but don't expect to see me 24/7.

Homework time :) Catch ya later, y'all!

966462  Link to this entry 
Written about Monday 2007-08-13
Written: (6311 days ago)

Why must endings in all the stories be happy, and all the endings to life be so sad? Why are there two such extremes, and never something to divide them? Endings can never be eaither happy or sad. Endings are determined by the choices we make--not the little choices, but the big ones in life. Endings can be changed; all life can be changed if one wills it to differ from it's original directions.

The only endings there truly are are the right and the wrong. Fate will not extend her arms toward any single person to change her plans. Only we can set things straight to set up for things to be right in the end. It is our duty as humans to push the plans aside in favor of all others.

This is what defines us.

959392  Link to this entry 
Written about Friday 2007-07-20
Written: (6335 days ago)

Just to let everyone know (and sory for the short notice) but I won't be on much if at all for the next two weeks. We're going for a drive up the coast all the way to Oregon to visit my grandparents. I might have some internet access for the first week, but probably not for the second week. To my RP: go on ahead without me if you'd like, though not too far. To Moira: I'll try to beta as much as I can while I'm up there :) To everyone else: Love you all and hope I talk to y'all soon.

Love and peace, mates!

(~,^) Owlie--out! (^,~)

951990  Link to this entry 
Written about Monday 2007-06-25
Written: (6360 days ago)
Next in thread: 952364

I write this diary in memory of Eddie, my computer. He died this morning on June 24 when I came home. He will be sorely missed. We had some good times and frustrating times, but he always pulled through.

A song in prayer:

"Dearly beloved, we gather here to say our goodbyes--here he lies, no one knew his worth, the late provider of my network--on these nights when we celebrate his birth...in that company called E-Machines, the day he crashed, when his screen flashed: Controooool Alt. Deleeeeete."

XP Ah, I have no life. If you don't know what that little song is from, it's my own version of the intro to RENT's popular "La Vie Boheme" song (^,^) I thought of it randomly.

Eddie, I'll love you always. No one stored my por--*ahem*--innocent photos and music like you did XD

<3 R.I.P. <3

930154  Link to this entry 
Written about Saturday 2007-04-14
Written: (6432 days ago)
Next in thread: 930156

Well this week has been somewhat interesting, I think.

Since I've actually been writing in this diary on a semi-regular basis (by no means whoring though of course) most of you probably missed the note I made about a week ago about selecting a good poem to read at the first annual poetry reading for my school. Despite my terrible stage fright, I ended up reading four of them--"Sing Me a Song", "Amid the Falling Snow", "For What It's Worth", and "Th King"--which everyone seemed to like a lot :D So that was nice. I'll be sure to go again next year :)

In other news it seems my depression is finally lifting officially. I know I've been saying that for months, but a little secret--I lied before :\ The last months have been absolute crap in it's worst form in my opinion, and just generally hopeless. But I'm feeling a lot better lately, I suppose, with many thanks to friends, not just here at school and such but all you guys on ET too :) I'll try not to be so depressed-sounding anymore.

I just hope that the hope and faith I've gotten back now isn't in vain. Please don't let it be...

928248  Link to this entry 
Written about Monday 2007-04-09
Written: (6437 days ago)

I was reading one of my old poems, titled "My Journey" (you can find it at Nite Owl's Poetry), and I've realized something.

People are always comparing life to a path with a series of forks, driving you closer or farther to your true destination. But really, what path is there to follow? Paths give no room to choose, just a bunch of twists and turns imagined by others. When I picture life now, I see a barren wasteland all around--no trees, no life, no path to guide. Somewhere far in the distance, in any and all directions, is perhaps only an illusion of life and fulfillment that we all strive for. We see it and head for it, hopeful, but after a few miles our hope dwindles and dies slowly, and we stop to make a new judgement--choose another random direction. We keep heading for this illusion at the edges of a wasteland, thinking them to be real all that time, until we are starved for love and life and die. It is then we finally see...the green oasis far off evaporates and flitters behind instead--all this time wasted, chasing something that didn't exsist so tirelessly and thoughtlessly that we miss the only real one.

It's so hard to focus on the things we need to find rather than the things we desperately want to find when all of what we see is the same, the same trials and decisions and comprimises over and over. Few find a place where they can stop running and looking and simply rest. Sometimes, that place is still only an illusion, but even so it is restful, peacful.

Nothing is truly hopeless. You need only see that where you are going is just an illusion, a false happiness that crumles with each step. Footsteps will lead you back to where you start, and sometimes that is the only real way, the only true way.

Everyone in this wasteland deserves a chance to go back and choose another way, to take a second chance. Everyone deserves at least that much, if only they make the journey back.

927879  Link to this entry 
Written about Sunday 2007-04-08
Written: (6438 days ago)
Next in thread: 928011

Hey, who wants to beat this guy into the ground with me? >:(



From: [Skylar J.S.]
To: [Nite_Owl] (New RP needs chars! Visit The Legion (^,^)
Sent mail 2007-04-07 22:46:21
Comment in 68277328


I like to fuck my dog. Just kidding. I like experimenting but that is too much for me. Your hot and think we should talk more. Blow me. Bye





Yeah, I had a few things to say to that one. Maybe he'll take the good acvice and not dare message me again (>,<)
926499  Link to this entry 
Written about Wednesday 2007-04-04
Written: (6442 days ago)

I finally found the song that was stuck in my head for a moneth :D I heard it in our school's production of "The Fantasticks" but couldn't find it anywhere. It's called "It Depends on What You Pay"....aka "The Rape Song" XD *roflroflrofl!*

Rape!
R-a-a-a-pe!
Raa-aa-aa-pe!

A pretty rape!
A literary rape!

We've the obvious open schoolboy rape,
With little mandolins and perhaps a cape.
The rape by coach; it's little in request.
The rape by day, but the rape by night is best.

Just try to see it.
And you will soon agree, señors,
Why
Invite regret,
When you can get the sort of rape
You'll never ever forget.

Chrous:
You can get the rape emphatic.
You can get the rape polite.
You can get the rape with Indians:
A very charming sight.
You can get the rape on horseback;
They'll all say it's new and gay.
So you see the sort of rape
Depends on what you pay.
It depends on what you
Pay.

The kids will love it.
It depends on what you pay!
So why be stingy?
It depends on what you --

The spectacular rape,
With costumes ordered from the East.
Requires rehearsal
And takes a dozen men at least.
A couple of singers,
And a string quartet.
A major production.
Requires a set.

Sounds expensive!

Just try to see it.
And you will soon si,si señors,
Why
Invite regret,
When you can get the sort of rape
You'll never ever forget.

(Chorus x1)

So why be stingy?
It depends on what you pay!
The kids will love it.
It depends on what you --

The comic rape.
Perhaps it's just a trifle too unique.
Romantic rape:
Done while canoeing on a moonlit creek.
The gothic rape!
I play "Valkyrie" on a bass bassoon!
The drunken rape.
It's done completely in a cheap saloon.

The rape Venetian
Needs a blue lagoon.
The rape with moonlight
Or without a moon.
Moonlight is expensive but it's in demand.
The military rape:
It's done with drummer and a band.

You understand?
I understand.
It's very grand.
It's very grand.
It's done with drums and a great big brass band!
Yeah!

Just try to see it.
I see it!
I see it!
And you will soon si,si señors,
Why
Invite regret,
When you can get the sort of rape
You'll never ever forget.

(Chorus x3)

So why be stingy?
It depends on what you pay!
The kids will love it.
It depends on what you

Ra-aa-aa-pe!
Ole!

926461  Link to this entry 
Written about Wednesday 2007-04-04
Written: (6442 days ago)

I'm thinking about speaking at a poetry reading this next Thursday (the 12th), but I can't decide on what poem I'd like best to read, or if I should go at all even. I'd like people's opinions on this one, if you can :) I might get a video of this reading, so if I do I might share it with you--but then again, I film terribly haha At least you'll know how I sound like then :P

 The logged in version 

News about Elftown
Help - How does Elftown work?
Get $10 worth of Bitcoin/Ethereum for free (you have to buy cryptos for $100 to get it) and support Elftown!
 
Elftown – the social site made for fans of scifi and fantasy

Visit our facebook page