More…

I feel like there’s so much more to life than just waking up, going to class, then doing homework. We just need to get out and find that “more”. The world is a pretty big place. There must be something outside of the daily routine.

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Friends and Hard Times

The last few days have been difficult. I’ve been restless and irritable. It’s been the beginning of a manic phase that hit its pinnacle last night when I had a strange attack. It was like a mix between panic and anxiety attacks but without the feelings of panic and anxiety. I think it was a mania attack, if anything like that exists. It drained me. Today I’ve been feeling the aftereffects of it.

That’s not the point of this post, though. I need to say thank you to my friends. They know who they are. The one who told me where to go, the one who walked with me even though he was tired, the one who said she was there for anything I needed, the one who sent me one of my favourite songs to cheer me up (even though he didn’t know how much I loved it at the time), the one who kept me talking all afternoon, the one who just let me listen to her because I didn’t want to talk too much, and the one who is always looking out for me, my wonderful sweetheart. Without these people, I don’t know where I would’ve been. Last night certainly would’ve been different.

To everyone, I say thank you. Thank you my friends. Thank you for being my friends. Friends truly are one of the most important things anyone can have.

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Random Story Fragment

I meant to post this yesterday but just didn’t get around to it.  A random story fragment.

Pretty men. Music blaring. Dark streets. The hunt was on.

Her name was Nancy. It was an uncommon name, but not one that would’ve garnered her unwanted attention. She was always on the hunt for a new companion, a new “escort”. She’d escort them to the next world.

She was tall and had brown hair. Simple farm girl looks that kept her under the radar. No one thought much of her until after it was too late. Until after they realized she was connected to the killings. By then, though, she’d moved on to the next city. The next city that was a victim to her slaughter.

Why, though? Why would she slaughter innocent people? The reason was simple. She enjoyed it. It was fun. The looks in their eyes as they realized how much trouble they were in. The way they screamed for mercy and prayed for an escape. When she slit their throats, the blood glistened on pale skin. Even the darkest skinned men turned as pale as death before the last fragments of life ebbed out of their paralyzed bodies.

Her most recent kill was still fresh in her mind. This one had been a very special one. She’d chosen him very carefully knowing that this would be her last kill in Pittsburgh. He’d been walking along a busy road at night, a pair of headphones on his ears. She snuck up behind him and tapped him on the shoulder. When he turned around, she tried to ask him for directions, but he couldn’t hear him. After a few seconds, he took off the headphones and asked what she needed.

She had her first doubts about her plan at that moment. They faded within seconds, though. Those bright blue eyes, the colour of the ocean and clear sky combined, were innocent and full of good will. Nancy stared at him, words stuck in her throat. She choked for a minute before repeating her request.

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Sound of Silence

By Simon and Garfunkel.  I love this song.  It was just playing on my Pandora radio station, so I thought I’d share it.

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Fraternity

If you do a Google search for the word fraternity then look at the news section, there are many articles that come up.  Several of them have to do with date rape drugs, several have to do with fraternities being forced to be coed, some are about hazing and students dying…not very nice stuff, really.  I have yet to see an article about a fraternity that sheds a positive light on it.

See, despite all of the bad things that the news highlights, fraternities aren’t the worst thing in the world.  They do good things.  For instance, they have philanthropy projects that they support.  They create networks that span the world.  They give men a place to belong when they might not otherwise have had one.  People don’t look at things like that when they read the news.

What place do I have defending fraternities?  I don’t know.  I’m not part of one.  I have only my experiences to rely upon when I speak of them.  I have been welcomed by AEPi and have been made to feel pretty much like a member even though there are things I can’t do.  I joke around that they adopted me (after being orphaned by a sorority), but it’s true.  These guys have made me almost one of them.

Sure, there’s a lot of bad stuff that happens in Greek life.  Parties and drugs and horrible things that are so frequently brought up (for both fraternities and sororities).  There are also good things, though.  The group is what the members make of it.  Here’s what I think.  Instead of blaming the fraternities for bad things that happen, why not blame just the people?  They shame their letters and, honestly, don’t reflect the Greek community that exists across the nation.  Because of the news, so many people who are involved in Greek life face a stereotype that they don’t deserve.

It’s not the fraternity’s fault.  It’s the fault of the people who do stupid acts.

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Friends

Regardless of what else happens in life, there are some things that are constant.

Gravity is the weakest of the 4 fundamental forces.
You need darkness to show you what light is, pain to show you happiness, and clouds to show you sunlight.
Friends take care of friends.  That’s why we have them.

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Poetry

Pieces and fragments remain
To question them is to bring into doubt
Everything, from the rain
To the stars
To the sky at night.

I only have slivers of poems floating around in my head.  They don’t make much sense when they’re put together, but individually they have some small meaning.  Each one is inspired by something different from the one before it.

The pain exists
Rarely ceases to desist

Covered up and masked
Never doing as tasked

I can’t seem to write about happy things.  My boyfriend noted that I never write happy endings to stories…and then I realized that I really don’t.  It seems to be a recurring thing.  Ah, well…

I know
I see
I feel
I am.

There is little else to say.
This is existence.
This is being.
This is life.

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