Problems

Gene is dead. Two friends are suicidal. I wrote this for one of them... Hopefully he listens....

You threaten to leave,
But do you even know what that would mean?
Do you understand what that would do?
What it would do to me.

It would rip me,
It would tear me apart.
It would cause the greatest pain.
It would push me over the edge.

I would want to join you,
Challenging the abyss.
Can it hold us?
Would we completely disappear?

I want to jump with you.
But you see my dear,
I cannot join you.
For what would that do?

It would break others.
Others would break themselves,
Just to get me back.
Just to see me once again.

And its those lives that I value more.
I don't stay here for me.
I stay here for you,
And the people who need me.

So please dear,
Don't jump just yet.
Don't leave me here alone,
Broken and weeping.

Age

True age is such a difficult concept. A person might be in their mid-20s as a physical age, but their true mental/spiritual age could be many years older. Or younger.

I am 17. Already, I have seen death, disease, and other horrors. I have listened to friends talk about suicide and about killing others. I have met those that are too young for their body, and those that are too old. I have experienced things that I wouldn't wish upon anyone else, and others that I wish everyone could experience. I am at least slightly older than my physical age.

I know a man that has a hundred year old eyes. He has only lived on this planet for 23 years, but his eyes seem to have seen thousands. He has already seen the violence and destruction of war, and experienced some of the worst physical pain in existence. He has experienced love and heartbreak, along with betrayal. He has put the pieces of himself back together, even when others hid the keys. He is starting to find himself and become whole again, after many long years. He is much older than his physical age.

Another man I know has defied deaths grip. He is 28 years old, but has eluded death many times. He was born a twin, but his other half was stillborn. He used to ride a motorcycle, until a car hit him head on and caused many injuries, one of which should have been death. He had appendicitis a couple years ago, That went fine, until his intestines didn't wake up. This man should be dead, and that is one of the things I admire about him. He keeps his stability and strives to acquire even more knowledge than he has already. He is at least a bit older than his physical age.

My best friend doesn't want to grow up. She is 18, and alternates between acting like a child, teen, and true adult. She has the knowledge of a person many years older than her, but she doesn't want every aspect of the adult life. She enjoys many things that would be deemed 'too young' for her, but she doesn't care. She shows professionalism when needed, but also laughs at the little things. She is a general average age, matching her physical body (although she is a bit odd).

And my beloved, he is 24. He can be divided into two halves. Mental and emotional. Mental includes knowledge and thought processes. Emotional, well, thats obvious. His is a very logical person. He can think problems through and solve them in the way that makes the most sense to him. But he has trouble understanding why people feel what they do. He also has some troubles understanding why people look at others how they do. He understands some, but not all. Due to the lack of idea of responsibility, he is slightly younger than his physical age.

So as you can see, age is but a number. Granted, most people hover within a few years of their real age, but you can never judge a book by its cover. Take the time to learn about the person before you evaluate their personality. I hope I have not offended any of you that I mentioned but that is how you are seen. I look up to all of you.

Imagination

In my head, I see amazing things. Things that will never make it onto paper. Why? Because my hands are incapable of creating something even close to what I see. Maybe writing it out will help? Probably not.

A figure approaches you. Its roughly human in shape, though it has some features that are far from human, even from the silhouette. Wings extend from her back. They are currently folded behind her, but they are far from hidden. They stretch from half a foot above her head to her waist, with a small claw on the top where the three supporting bones connect. Her tail is long and slender, trailing slightly above the ground as she walks. She finally reaches you, and you notice that her skin has scaled over. The scales on her arms and face are the same deep color as her wing bones, the deepest purple in existence. Her tail wraps around her legs and rests on her feet. There is something peculiar about her legs. They have one extra joint. It appears that the knee has moved up her leg and the extra joint faces the other way. The tail flicks, a spade on the end, when she asks your name.
"Huh?" You ask, too transfixed to hear what she said.
"What is your name?" She smiles at you, and you notice that her canine teeth are slighly longer. You marvel at how little the scales on her face are, and how they still manage to be as deep as the rest of them. She laughs a little.
"Well, at least you arent staring at my chest." As she mentions it, your eyes flicker down to her chest and notice that from her chin and down her front, it is a toughened skin of a lighter shade of purple. The underside of her tail is the same way. "Come on now, my eyes are up here." You move your eyes up and see the feline pupils and the deep blue irises. "Thats better."
"Where... Where did you come from?" You stammer.
"Oh, ive been here all along." She reaches her hand out to shake yours, you briefly notice that the fingers are clawed. "The name is Kiyah." Kiyah... Thats the short girl, and she didnt have wings yesterday.
"What happened?"
"Nothing, you're just seeing all of me now." She snaps her fingers, causing you to blink. Suddenly, she shifts back to how you remember her. "I'll see you tomorrow."
"Uh. Ya. Sure."

And I wish, I wish that I could draw her.

Another portfolio from Creative Writing

We just finished the story portion of Creative Writing! Each of these stories has a specific topic and/or prompt.


We were told to write a very verbose description of something.

What is it?

    It is a staple in plans of some villains, and helps both children and adults learn. It allows teenagers to cause death to all that cross their path, but also to make friends far and wide. It is taken for granted when it works, but people panic when it fails. It has no shape or form, but is a concept. The only physical form it has is when it is combined with other technology. It is seen as a highway, and also as a web. What is it?



We were given a list of objects, and were told to use them in a story that takes place in a hotel room. 

The Doctor and the Cube Remote

    As I walked down the hall, I heard a curious man shouting in my hotel room. He was point a glowing thing at a cube.

    “Drop it!” I yelled as I pulled a gun. He looked at me and came towards me. I didn’t understand what he was doing, so I did the first thing my dad taught me to do. I pulled the trigger. He fell to the floor, and I stepped over him. My foot accidently touched the cube, and I was seemingly transported.

    “How hard is it to get freaking sharks with freaking laser beams attached to their freaking heads?!” I found myself yelling.

    I was in a movie. Austin Powers to be exact. It was playing when I had come in. Thinking I was hallucinating, I tried to move. My foot twitched, and I was suddenly the smartest person in the world.

    “Chuck! We need to get that computer chip out of your head!” I recoiled, and found myself on the floor of my hotel room. The man was missing, and another was in his place.

    “I’M FRIENDLY!” He yelled.

    “Wha.... Wha...” I couldn’t get the words out. Where did this orange haired man come from?

    “Yes, yes, I’m an alien. Here, hold this, Careful, its a sonic screwdriver.” I was dumbfounded, but followed when he took off running. “This cube was supposed to distract me while they planted the bomb.” He tried to explain.

    “A bomb?!”

    “Yes. And it did a good job. Where is the emergency switch?”

    “Huh?”

    “The button. To turn everything off.”

    “I don’t think...”

    He stopped suddenly. “Give it here!” I handed him the screwdriver, and he pointed it on a piece of wall that slid open. “Ah-hah! The Master!” As he finished the man in the room pulled a pen out and shot him with a laser. I was in shock from the things I’d seen before, so I took a pogo stick from the corner (I still wonder how it got there) and knocked the man out, or so I thought. I hit a big red button, and I suddenly saw a crowbar headed towards my face, and everything went black.

    I sat bolt upright in bed, and relaxed. The Doctor Who marathon must have stuck in my head last night.

ALL the poetry!

I just finished my poetry portfolio for Creative Writing, so I thought I would put the poems here. Its a lot! Let me know if you like any ^.^ The collection itself is titled...

Pieces of my Soul

Insanity

(Sensory/Imagery)

The taste of insanity is a recipe,
One that has been altered.
The package lists it as the same,

But it is clearly unique.

The sound of insanity is the man laughing,
With someone that isn't really there.
Laughing with the friend that has always been there,
But nobody else can see.

The smell of insanity is the natural perfume,
That has gone past its time.
At one point it was certainly nice,
But now could not be passed as pleasant.

The look of insanity is the genetic birthmark,
That has been there since birth.
It has surely been on her face since birth,
But now makes the model unsuitable.

The feel on insanity is the everyday joy,
That nobody else will know.
They hide from things that are deemed inappropriate,
But you find joy in what only you can feel.

I Hear the World Singing

(I hear...)

I hear the world singing,

      So many songs I hear.

Those of the British,

      Singing proud and loud.

The Germans,

      Tempo as fast as the Autoban.

The Swiss,

      Singing a song to please them all.

The Japanese,

      Praising the newest advancements.

And I hear the Americans singing,

      Singing of freedom.

Each sings a song of what belongs to them,

      And to everyone else.

Elemental

(Poet-Tree)

The air rushes past,

      always willing to change direction.

The water flows down the stream,

      carrying its woes downstream.

The fire dances on the logs,

      never slowing its pace.

The earth holds steady,

      not letting others bring it down.

And the spirits flow free,

      bound by nothing other than dreams.

Imagination

(Free-Write)

As the world spins,

I find myself spinning with it.

As the band sings,

I find myself singing with them.

As the performers dance,

I find myself dancing with them.

As the audience cheers,

I find myself cheering with them.

And as I look around,

I find myself surrounded with imagination.

Stage Fright

(Haiku)

As the fear builds up,

Remember what you're doing.

You are here to shine.

Magic

(Found)

Magical sounds filled the room.

Swallowing my nervousness,

I moved in time,

Making little

Turns and dance moves.

I'm not clumsy,

But not Ms. Cheerleader.

Its easier than imagined,

With the beautiful, lilting beat

That celebrates the night.

Appropriate for tonight,

It carried me,

Gracefully around the room.

Loren's voice recited the poem,

Echoing the cadence of the music.

And together,

We made magic.

Betrayed

Page 205

The magical sounds of Enya's orchestral song “Aldebaran” filled the room. I swallowed down the last of my nervousness, and began walking forward, tracing a path around the outside of the circle, like I'd watched both Neferet and Aphrodite do in the rituals they'd led. As they had, I moved in time with the music, making little impromptu turns and dance moves. I'd been really freaked out about this part of the ritual-I mean, I'm not clumsy, but I'm also not Ms. Cheerleader/Pom Squad. Thankfully, it was lots easier than I'd imagined it to be. I'd chosen this particular music because of its beautiful, lilting beat, and because I'd Googled Aldebaran and found it was a giant star-and I thought music that celebrated the night sky was appropriate for tonight. It was a good choice, because it seamed as if the music was carrying me, moving my body gracefully around the room and overcoming my initial nerves and awkwardness. When Loren's voice began reciting the poem, he, too, echoed the cadence of the music, just like my body was, and it felt like we were making magic together.

Belief

(Sonnet)

A religion is a means of escape.

A way to express your faith and belief.

The strength of faith will leave their mouths agape.

Expressing yourself can be a relief.

A million events can test your strength,

But a true believer never gives up.

Keep your friends close, and bullies at length.

Keep yourself as kind as a pup.

The world may appear to be on your side,

But be prepared to deal with things gone wrong.

If you are true, your doors will open wide,

And people will hear your beautiful song.

Believe in yourself, and live every day,

For it could not be your last, but it may.

Theme for English B

(Theme for English B)

The teacher said,

Use your time

And write a masterpiece.

Let it come from you-

And it will be true.

Is it really that easy?

I am seventeen, living in Owatonna.

I have gone to school here and in Blooming,

But here is my home.

I am one of the many teens here,

That identifies as a nerd.

A block or two from here, I head towards Main.

And I pass Main,

Instead taking Broadway.

And down the street,

I stop at my second home.

The Shop.

This place is home for a reason.

Around me are my brothers and sisters-

Too many to count.

But here I can name a few;

Theres Andy,

      Eccentric and expressive.

Theres Ryan,

      Not afraid to imagine.

And Kyle,

      Accepting what he is.

Along with Mike,

      Showing the world who he is.

Theres Brent,

      A lovable oddball.

Theres Jerry,

      Determined to succeed.

And once upon a time Keith,

      Too afraid to fail.

Every once in a while there's Nick,

      Who shows me love.

And Luke,

      Always curious.

With Caitlin,

      Awkward and intelligent.

And with everyone I share a part.

I am me,

And I have found happiness.

And that is my theme for English B.

The Fox

(Free-Write)

I saw a fox walking home,
Head down and all alone.
He raised his head to look at me,
And looked as sad as one can be.

I saw a wolf walking home.
I asked him "Why's he alone?"
"He once had a mate,
But she was not in his fate."

I saw a dog walking home.
I asked her "Why's he alone?"
"He had love once upon a time,
But he can no longer call her 'mine'."

I walked home in despair,
Feeling his loneliness in the air.
I looked in the mirror,
And what I saw was fear.

I want to walk him home,
So he wont be so alone.
But I cannot help him,
For I fear what I am.

I am a dragon,
The fiercest predator of all.

Welcome to the League

(Free-Write)

A young girl is thrown into battle.

Bright pink hair and kitty ears,

Along with her little stuffed bear.

All she seemingly wants,

Is to play a game.

But dont let the young green eyes fool you,

This girl has the strength of magic.

One kind glance, one misstep,

And you can find yourself surrounded,

Surrounded by fire.

As you peer through the fire,

Determined to survive,

You see a shape, tall and looming.

“It's my bear Tibbers!”

The little girl yells.

Annie is a girl of nightmares.

One born in a magical land.

And as she laughs,

You hear a familiar sound.

“You have been slain.”

Charms

(Object)

In my drawer,

      I find charms.

Charms missing their chains,

Charms that once had a purpose.

One in particular catches my eye.

A heart,

      But with a piece missing.

A piece in the shape of a key.

I know who holds the key,

And it brings me to tears,

Engraved in the back,

      There are two names.

'Alec + Kiyah' the charm says,

And I know the key says the same.

Why do I torture myself like this?

It didn't work,

      We both know this.

Yet little things will make me remember,

Remember what I have done to him.

And what he had done to me.

I set the charm down,

      Letting the past go.

I tell myself that it was right,

It was right to save myself the grief.

Although it broke his heart.

Kiyah Jeau Riggleman

(Acrostic)

Kind and loving

In every way,

Yearning to assist

All who come in need of

Help and love.

Joyously keeping

Everyone who comes to her with

A problem positive and

Ultimately happy.

Ready for you to cry

Into her shoulder,

Gladly supplying support to the

Gracious and kind.

Loving the kindness of

Every one of her

Many friends

And acquaintances,

Now and forever.

It's Her!

(History)

In a small town, back in 1692,
Seven young girls formed a bond.
A bond that killed many,
And lives on through history.
Betty Parris, Ann Putnam, Elizabeth Hubbard,
Mary Walcott, Mercy Lewis, Mary Warren,
and Susanna Sheldon all claimed,
“It’s her! It’s the witch!”

As the seven girls contorted,
Everyone watched in fear.
Who would be convicted now?
Who would they say lived a life of lies?
Swift and cold,
A winter wind in the endless summer,
Women and men were convicted.
“It’s her! It's the witch!”

It all started when young Betty,
Only six years of age,
Fell dreadfully ill.
And to the devil the blame fell.
Slave Tituba baked a cake
To help the young girl recover.
But the children cried,
“It’s her! It’s the witch!”

With Tituba, the girls sentenced two more.

Sarah Good was a beggar,
Sarah Good was a misfit.
Sarah Good did not belong.
Sarah Osborn hasn’t attended church,
At least for a year.
Sarah Osborn has to go!
“It’s her! It’s the witch!”

From June to September,
Nineteen men and women
Traveled to Gallows Hill.
And none came down.
One man, Giles Corey,
Denied to go to trial.
He was pressed to death.
“It’s him! Its the witch!”

The accused were rich,
The accused were powerful,
The accusers gained wealth and power,
If the accused were to die.

The witch hunt started in June,
A runner jumping out of the gate.
And in September, the trials ended.
“It’s them! They’re the liers!”

Linder, Douglas. "An Account of the Salem Witchcraft Investigations, Trials, Andaftermath." An Account of the Salem Witchcraft Investigations, Trials, Andaftermath. N.p., n.d. Web. 25 Feb. 2013.

Warring

(Free-Write)

There are two sides of me,

      Constantly warring.

I should help that girl,

      I could use her later.

I'm so glad hes nice to me,

      Wonder if he will lie for me.

It's not right to worry them,

      But my parents deserve it.

My boyfriend is so faithful,

      Doesn't mean I have to do the same.

The first side wins out,

      While the second stalks my thoughts.

I am good, I am kind.

      I am manipulative, I am evil.

I embrace the light,

      But I understand the darkness.

Dear Colin

(Letter)

Dear Colin,

You lived a life of love,

You lived a life of laughs,

You lived a life of happiness.

In your death-at such a young age-

People have mourned.

People have cried.

And yet, people laugh in your memory.

People find happiness in your memory.

People show kindness in your memory.

Colin, you are missed.

We miss your laugh,

We miss your love.

And yet,

we live on,

laughing and loving.

I hope you are happy in your special place,

      Kiyah Riggleman

Life of a Gamer

(List)

A gamers life is never dull.

For the lonely ones,

      The Massively Multiplayer Online.

A group of like-minded individuals,

      You must be compatible with one.

For those who have a boring 'real life',

      The action adventure.

So many places to go and things to do,

      How can life be boring?

For those with the sharp mind,

      A puzzle game.

So many different combinations,

      It can keep you entertained for hours.

For those longing to command,

      A strategy game.

When all those people listen to you,

      You must surely be right.

For those with the active imagination,

      A role-playing game.

Everything is fun and exciting,

      You can escape from a boring life.

And for those itching to go to war,

      The First Person Shooter.

When you get a headshot,

      Its a feeling of power.

For every type of person,

      There is a video game.

And a persons video game

      Can tell you a lot.

Eugene Barber

(Acrostic)

Engineering in his spare time,

Unleashing the ideas

Generally only the

Eccentric can think of, he now

Needs himself and

Every member of his family.

Brought to his knees by

A very viscous

Respiratory cancer, he

Battles with

Every ounce of his being, attempting to

Remain happy for the sake of his loved ones.

Today

There are so many things running around in my head. Tumbling, jumping every which way.

Today, I am attending a funeral. This funeral is not for any family, or super close friend. This funeral is for a student in the 2013 class named Colin Piper. On Sunday, February 3rd, Colins mom went to wake him up, and found him not breathing. During the night, he had a severe asthma attack. He was airlifted to Rochester (best hospital in the area). They did CPR for 15 minutes and put him in a medically induced coma. Once he was breathing better, they started lowering the medicine to wake him up. But he didn't.

On February 9th, Colin was taken off of life support and died at 1:29 pm. Everybody in the school has been effected in some way. I knew Colin in elementary school, and he was fun to joke with. I also have this thing called empathy. When someone around me is sad, I am sad. I can block it off, but its uncomfortable. So today, I will cry. I will cry for those who cannot cry anymore. I will cry for myself. But most importantly, I will cry for Colin and his family.

Today, I am getting my asthma retested. I havent been taking my daily inhaler, and it feels like it has gotten worse. I know I at least need a new daily. That will be fun, as part of the test requires me to run around triggering my asthma.

Today, I am missing my boyfriend. It is Valentines day, and my other is in Florida... 1,600 miles from me. I miss him so much, though I am glad he is having fun out in the sun and warmth. Its too cold here!

Today, I see my mentor and friend. Hopefully he can find a way to make me feel whole for the first time in my life.

Today, I grieve and love. I will do my best to help those around me. But also keep myself well. Today is a day of rebirth.

More poetry

Me and Caitlin have Creative Writing together, and its poetry unit right now.

The taste of insanity is a recipe,
One that has been altered.
The package lists it as the same,
But it is clearly unique.

The sound of insanity is the man laughing,
With someone that isn't really there.
Laughing with the friend that has always been there,
But nobody else can see.

The smell of insanity is the natural perfume,
That has gone past its time.
At one point it was certainly nice,
But now could not be passed as pleasant.

The look of insanity is the genetic birthmark,
That has been there since birth.
It has surely been on her face since birth,
But now makes the model unsuitable.

The feel on insanity is the everyday joy,
That nobody else will know.
They hide from things that are deemed inappropriate,
But you find joy in what only you can feel.

I have felt so different lately. I can look at myself in the mirror without disgust. I can accept compliments genuinely. Finally, I am healing. Except for this whole boyfriend thirty minutes away. But hey, you take what you can get. He loves me and treats me well, and I dont want to part with him ♥♥

My dear friends...

My dear friend, my dear sister. I love you so much more than I think even words can express. You talk about me being your shining star, but you must also look at it from my view. No matter what life issues I am going through, you are here for me. You are here to awkwardly hug me and make me feel loved. As you did tonight. I have been feeling really down, but tried to hide it. Though nothing escapes you for too long. You are amazing, and I am glad that you are here for me.

And its not just her. There are so many people here for me, and I am greatfull for every one of you.

My loving boyfriend... Where would I be without you? Probably in some horrible place, wasting my life away. You help me be stable, you help me shine as bright as I can. And I love you. As much as I can. No matter how different we are, we are still drawn together. We fill the gaps in each others lives. I show you the beauties of emotions, while you show me the wonders of logic. I love you, dearest.

Oh Twin, is there much I can say? If I were to be ten years earlier to this word, I may have been your biological twin. Without you, I would be lost in this spiritual sea. I am so glad that I found you. You have shown me so many things that I would be lost without.

And a new one to add to the list. My brother? Spirit father? Mentor? Teacher? I have no formal title to call you, but I know friend works. You said that I have been a better friend to you in two days than one friend in two years. Wow. I am so happy I met you. I am so happy you have taken me as a student, even though you hate that word a little.

I LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH! Each of you in your own way, but its still there. Thank you everyone, thank you for being here for me.

Poetry

As the world spins,
I find myself spinning with it.
As the band sings,
I find myself singing with them.
As the performers dance,
I find myself dancing with them.
As the audience cheers,
I find myself cheering with them.
And as I look around,
I find myself surrounded with imagination.

Bouncy

I am bouncy.
Not a good bouncy. Not hyper and happy, at least not all the time. I bounce between moods.
One minute, I am hyper and as happy as can be.
The next, I am pissy and angry.
And another is fear. Of what? No way to tell.

I wish this would stop. But alas, it will not. So I have to learn to deal with it.

I met a new friend recently. He has been trying to help me with my self esteem and confidence, along with my religion (I may talk about that at some point on here). I hope he can help where others have failed...

My Mind

My mind is a confusing place. Nothing makes sense, but everything makes sense. I can be brought down by the little things, but also brought up by the little things. I can love, I can laugh, I can spread joy. But I can cry, I can hurt, and I can be the source of sadness. I want to be that source of love and laughter, but I know I cant control all of it. And thats normal. That normal, and thats me.

There is nothing wrong with me. The only thing wrong is how I view myself. I need to be happy, a source of inspiration and hope. And I try. Trust me, I try. And for those loved ones reading this... I try for YOU! I try to make you happy. Because when you are happy, so am I. I want cuddles, I need cuddles. I want hugs, I need hugs. I need smiles, love, laughter... And my loved ones, you give it to me. Please dont stop. We can make it through the bad times. I can make it through.

Depression and Fighting

My depression has been kicking up a storm. I can barely go one school day without crying, let alone the night too. Ive been crying a lot the last few nights, and I feel bad for my boyfriend who has been trying to counsel me through it. I go from feeling sorry for myself, to thinking im worthless, to becoming irritable and pissed off at everything. This has partially emerged as me and the boyfriend fighting.

We fight about whatever comes to my mind. Jobs, life, choices, whatever I can rant about. Recently that has lead to fight after fight. I dont know why I feel the urge to fight with him. I dont know why anyone ever wants to fight with a loved one. But I do. And it always gets me more depressed. I wish so much that I could stop it. I wish that I could control urges such as these. But as much as I wish, I cant. I know he understands this. That I dont want to fight with him. But it gets so so hard on him. I know this.

And its not only him. Other than basically one friend that I try my hardest not to fight with, I am snippy and testy. I have irritable responses when people try to talk to me. I snap at people that mean me no harm. And I argue with people that value me. I cant stand it. And I cant seem to stop it. I just want to be better!

Please, can I be better? I want to rise out of this dark place and shine. But its hard when it keeps me sucked in.

France

I possibly have the chance to go to France! It is not definiate in any shape or form, but just an idea. My friend Caitlin travels to France periodically to visit her grandparents and wants to take me with her this year. I have to save up my own money, but I will be happy to try that if I am able to go. More info when I find out, but it would be awesome!

Struggle with ADHD

I would like to share with you an article from a man named Dave Martorana.
This article hits heavy with me and several of my friends. Have fun.




I have medically diagnosed “Adult ADHD.” But I can tell you pretty definitively it’s really just plain ADHD, and I’ve had it all my life. As a quick note, medically speaking, there is no more ADD – just ADHD (I have no idea why they did away with the differentiation) – even though I’m hardly hyperactive. Let’s say that the “H,” in some way that makes no sense, stands for “Shiny Object.” I have Attention Deficit and Shiny Object Disorder.
This is my story.

Lemme try to explain this to you…

I spend most of my day in my head. It is an odd place indeed. It’s filled to the brim with tens of thousands of often unrelated thoughts ranging from the truth of consciousness to why it is that I’m attracted to coffee mugs as if they were grand works of architecture. I also think about architecture.
These thoughts speed through my head at an outrageous rate. They’re more often fleeting than not, but they can at the same time be crippling, debilitating, and completely freeze me in my tracks. The thoughts worth further consideration often don’t get the time they deserve, and are pushed out by new, incongruous, or tangental ideas.
It’s a noisy place to say the least. Worse still is that my brain often gives equal weight to the seeming randomness of the voices in my head to the real-world outside stimulus that should probably carry more weight. As quickly as “that building looks top-heavy with the odd window arrangement on the top floor” passes out of my head, so too can the letter sitting next to me on my desk that needs to be mailed. Placed there mere moments before by my wife for me to mail, the next time I think of it will be when I happen upon it tomorrow. There’s no “on no!” moment in between, there’s no nagging thought of something I’ve forgotten. The place the letter occupied in my short-term memory has been requisitioned for other needs – like wow I need new jeans.
I’ll take you on a quick tour of how my brain works. Let’s go with the coffee mug example. What is it that my wife is washing so intently, I just washed the dishes? I don’t like the yellow color on this brochure. Wait, I’m writing a blog post.
Sorry, coffee mugs. This is approximately how the coffee mug thought played out when I first typed it up above.

I oddly like coffee mugs. I like the shape of the mug that Life Is Good makes. It looks best in white. It’s heavy, feels good in the hand. I wonder if that makes it keep coffee warmer? My coffee or tea always cools off too much when I’m drinking it. I need a hot plate. Double-walled glasses help. I have a double-walled coffee mug. It was cheap. Parker wanted the link. It was on Amazon. I just bought a heater from Amazon. It’s amazing how little their design has changed over time. I wonder what Bezos spends his money on? Books? Space heaters? He always looks nerdy. I was a total nerd. Wait still am. My knuckles need cracking. The sink just turned on. That’s right, Jen’s here. She’s making a roast. I need water. Wait, did she just call me? Now she’s mad I didn’t respond. Damn that was too long of a time to respond. How did I forget she called me? I wonder if her voice travels better than mine? I hear I have a low timber. I should listen to a recording of my voice. I have a program that does that on my Mac. Wait, I’m typing an article. I should mention coffee cups. Wait, I forgot something. Answer Jen.

That my friends, took about 3 seconds of my time. It’s like that almost my entire waking life.
There are three absolutely broken parts of my brain engine that I can declaratively state contribute to the odd hobbling forward of my daily life.

1. My thought queue is massively volatile, prone to catastrophic failure. A single sound, a passing wind, a glint of light, a new stimulus – any of these things can completely and totally wipe both the queue of thoughts ahead of me, and the short-term memory bucket of previously processed thoughts now behind me. It’s a killing field, only it’s less like napalm, leaving the charred remains of the decimated masses behind it, and more like the epicenter of a nuclear explosion, where instant vaporization is almost guaranteed. I will say there are, many times, the shadows of those thoughts, temporarily ghosted in to my brain like a plasma TV placed on pause for too long, but they’re often too faded to make heads or tails of.
    
2. I can only process a single thought at once. Oh how I envy the multi-taskers. Able to watch a TV show, cook, and check Facebook all at the same time. I can’t come close. If you were talking to me – right to my face – and someone dropped a spoon on the ground from somewhere out of sight, I would struggle massively to remember what you were talking about while trying to process what you were still saying. It’s worse when I’m talking. Sentences take way too long to escape my pie-hole, and mid-way through a sentence, I’m 3 thoughts further down the road – probably admiring someone’s new coffee mug. I’ll eventually realize I’ve stopped talking mid-sentence, and yet – what was it I was talking about? I literally can’t remember. I feel embarrassment at what is obviously an awkward silence that I try to fill with a meaningful “um…” as if searching for a word. It’s like being Spider Man trying to stop the speeding train. Making it stop is hard enough, then reversing it to back-track to what I am in the middle of saying – it’s damn near impossible. I can eventually get my thought back, but doing so is actually physically strenuous, and has an unfortunate side effect. See #A.
    
3. I have a massively underwhelming prioritization engine. This letter – the one I was asked to mail – should be much more important than the fact that I have two of the same identical Apple keyboards, and yet this one seems to almost have more traction on the keys than my other one. Although this one feels smoother than before. I wonder if I wear the keys down – or maybe my hands are sweaty or greasy. My head certainly gets greasy by the end of the day. I don’t mind “greasy Italian” jokes, they make me laugh…
   
   But it’s not.

The struggle

There’s one other thing I forgot to mention. There are times that a thought will get stuck, and so completely block the single processor my brain possesses that even someone kicking me in the shin will have little chance of breaking me of its crippling grasp. This is often manifested outwardly as depression, distraction, detachment, and even rudeness. It’s as though I’ve entered a dream within a dream. Thoughts continue to stream in, but they are solely focused on this singular topic. My brain and body have been hijacked by this one topic. This can last anywhere from a few seconds to hours and hours.
I do struggle with the situations my brain often gets me in. Every day I ponder how it is that my head operates this way. Sometimes, especially after forgetting something as simple as mailing that letter, or what it was my friend just said to me, that the pondering becomes one of these blocking thoughts described in the paragraph above. I feel intense remorse, embarrassment, and disappointment in myself.
I struggle with it throughout the day. I have responsibilities – to my family, to my clients, even to myself. I have to force myself constantly to remember, to stay focused, to complete even the simplest of tasks. I have to make a concerted effort to remember that I just put a pot of water on the stove, and I cannot, cannot put on my headphones. If I did, I wouldn’t hear the whistle of the pot, and there is absolutely no chance of me remembering I put the pot on the stove – it’ll be gone in seconds. Only if by chance my brain were to pass the thought “It’s cold in here, I should make some tea” that I could be jolted back to the reality that 15 minutes have passed by, and my dear God I left the kettle on the stove. Digging in my heals is the only thing that allows me to look at the headphones and remember no – I’m not allowed to put them on. Ah, the pot on the stove. Right.
I struggle the most with my beautiful wife, Jen. She suffers me, especially in the most frustrating of times when my mind seems to be elsewhere, leaving her behind, as if I didn’t care enough to give her my full attention. She is more understanding about it than I care to think about. She forgives me this shortcoming, constantly. She doesn’t have to tell me, I can see her. I’m incredibly lucky.

Living with it

In many ways, though, I should note that I deal with my head, and have come to peace with it. It’s a lot easier for me to laugh off my brain’s odd methodology than it was 10 years ago. It also helps that I’ve taken a few steps to help mitigate my own issues.

• Calendars. Like, crazy calendars. I have several calendars with different basic purposes, and subscribe to other calendars (like my office’s calendar). I centralize them all in my Google account, which has a push-synchronization set up with my iPhone, and is synced to my computer’s iCal calendar. Every single thing I put on the calendar is put on there with at least one (if not multiple) reminders. If something is going to happen at a specific date or time, I get an alert on my computer, an SMS, and an email about it.
   
• GTD with Things. I use the “Things” software on my iPhone and Mac and am struggling to get in line with the GTD methodology of appropriating tasks and things to do. The main point I like is that you’re meant to be able to have a thought, record it, and FORGET ABOUT IT. The forgetting part is inevitable. The more I use GTD, the more I get done, so I hope to make it a more permanent part of my life over the next weeks and months. It does require discipline, but man it makes my life easier.

There’s one more thing.

I can drown out the voices.

I discovered something I still don’t entirely understand. I can drown out the voices in my head, keeping my brain clear of all but a single task. It’s what I assume normal brain processing is like – quiet, focused. How do I do it?
Music.
Music has always held an almost mystical like power over me, but if I put on headphones, removing distraction, and play music through them, I am placed in to an almost meditative state. It’s how I get things done. It’s often the only way I get things done. I wish I knew why it worked. Maybe I could be more meditative more often.
It turns out I can also drown out my thoughts with most media – TV, movies, art, etc., – but they don’t let me get work done at the same time.

Still here? A conclusion then.

I doubt many will read this. But writing this was more for me, really. I have friends who look at me bizarrely if I have a “brain fart,” those that suffer my odd way of processing thoughts kindly, even if I can tell they’re annoyed. Maybe this is for them a little too – a small look inside my head.
My charge continues. Every day I struggle, it helps me set up ways of dealing with it. The more comfortable I get with myself, the more safeguards I put in place, the more I can alleviate myself of negativity I feel towards this condition and embrace the brain that God, nature, evolution, chaos, order, or any combination therein have given me, the more at peace I am.
The teapot is whistling. I gotta get that.