Back for a bit/Your Make Everything Ok Button

Tonight I found myself sitting at my computer. I was trying to write. It's been a while and I'm rusty. Word was open, but nothing was there. Just a white screen and vague title in my head. Word is not a creative environment. Microsoft definitely didn't have poetry in mind when they designed that thing.

I caught myself thinking back to this thing. This page. You guys.

It's a lot easier for me to write here. I feel like it has purpose. That what I'm writing isn't just going to end up as a a bunch of ones and zeros shoved into a folder that doesn't really exist on my laptop.

Instead it's just a bunch of ones and zeros slightly more accessible to the rest of the human population with an internet connection.

So bear with me, this wasn't really meant for the internet when I thought of it. It's for someone in particular to be read on a certain day. Feedback would be nice.

I hope they don't remember the URL to my blog.

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Your Make Everything Ok Button.

I watched your hands move on the keyboard.

click

click

Thump went my heart.

click

You were having a bad day. I remember it.

click

Those fingers I know moving slowly. Fluorescents shining off the rings you wore.

click

You needed it to be ok.

click

I needed it to be ok.

click

I needed you to be ok.

click

We'd run out of ideas.

Watching

click

Listening

click

Waiting

click

click

click

I've got to find something.

click

Try something different.

click

I haven't tried everything.

click

thump

.

.

.

You've stopped typing. Hands resting back where they were, but not where I want them.

Your eyes still brimming with liquid pain. Threatening to spill over at any second.

I look up.

Blinded by you and the bright screen in this dark room, I try and focus.

Make everything ok the words read.

Make everything ok.

thump

Theres no secret. No formula. No line of code. No combination of words that do that.

That's not what this is about.

I can do this. I can make it ok.

I can.

Me. Just me.

No, not just me.

Just us.

Everything is ok if we're still here.

No secret. No formula. No line of code. No combination of words is going to stop that.

Everything is ok.

And it'll always be that if we're together.

Real Talk

Commencement Speech

Welcome Class of *glances at banner* 2014.

I'll keep this short for all of you who have some party to go to.

Many of you are probably wondering who I am right about now.

No, I'm not your valedictorian.

No, I'm not famous.

No, I have no idea who any of you are.

Yes, I did wander up here looking for the bathroom.

Yes, I'll shortly be removed by security.

But before that. I have something to say to all of you people.

Pretend you're in a movie.

Just do it, be the main character.

The one that takes risks, jumps out of planes, drives fast, loves the girl/guy, etc. You know, that one.

*UNFINISHED SECTION*

This is your call to adventure.

Can't you hear it?

Go, run, do, fly, sleep, hell do something you've never done.

All the seasons of your Tv show are over. All four years.

Now it's time for the movie to start.

So please, silence your cell phones, stand up, get out there, and hold on tight.

*Get's tackled by security*

That Feeling

Can I just write (say) something here?

Out of all of this. Every day I've had this thing.

I just want to make you feel something.

I want you to feel that feeling I get when I hear, read, sing, or see something that leaves me thinking.

You know what I'm saying, right?

Lights, camera, action, satisfaction. That's what I want you to feel.

It's the same feeling that makes me write these words. I don't even know where it comes from, but I want you to have it. That's all.

Because I'm here. And I feel it.

the moon.

i wanna feel alive.

I also want to know what that means.

Now, I'm not saying I feel dead.

…Because I don't.

I'm just not sure what feeling alive is.

is it every time i take a breath or feel my skin touch something?

is it adrenaline?

is it something that i haven't felt?

is it the feeling i get when my eyes reach hers?

I don't know. But I'll find out. Maybe.

I'm Jealous

He writes the things I wish I could say.

Yet another sad chair

How To Graduate From Highshcool

Step 1

-Enroll

Step 2

-Do whatever you're assigned to do (preferably well). Don't procrastinate.

Step 3

-Repeat step two until someone hands you a diploma.

I remember.

I remember wishing I could remember more.

Ever felt that?

You know, you go back and think about something from the past. Good or bad, doesn't matter. But you just can't quite remember it the way it deserves to be. 

The past is the past.

Memories are smoke from the fire. You can tell where it comes from, but it can never be the same again.

I remember Pokemon on saturday. Feet up, head back. The proximity of the TV close enough for parental objection.

I remember seeing the stars up close for the first time. They were painted on my bedroom wall. Not nearly as hot as I imagined.

I remember a square NES controller and a rocking chair. AKA Grandma's house.

I remember a forest that went on forever, but I wasn't allowed to go past the creek.

I remember that first girl. Pink and cartwheels. Not even a name.

I remember meeting said girl years later by chance. Still can't remember her name.

-FLASH FORWARD-

I remember feeling like I could't breath. Side effects of living at sea level for three years, I guess.

I remember being momentarily suspended between the mountains. Nowhere to go but up.

I remember longboards and pizza. At least I can remember that girl's name. You know, because she's my best friend now.

I remember feeling like I was drowning. Side effects of living at five thousand feet for three years, I guess.

I remember the day I realized that up there nothing matters. It's all just a show.

I remember being puzzled by how a few feet could make such a difference to the rate my heart beat.

I remember being devastated by the inches between our lips, because I knew it would never be the same again.

I reme-

Stop.

You have to stop remembering. If you keep going like this, you'll never quit.

Stop paying attention to the smoke. It can be intoxicating, I know. But if you don't stop the fire will.

And without the fire,

there's no more smoke.

If you don't start looking forward and living, there won't be anything worth remembering.

I remember.

Black Out Poetry

Phobophobic

fear.

I fear i'm fearing i'm afraid.

i fear that i felt that i found the answer to my never ending question

What am I afraid of?

where is this fear that i feel coming from

Why am I afraid?

in a forest of few i feel a fraction of fear following me always fresh and never free

I'm finding things out I didn't want to know.

like feelings filling my heart as they form and I fall

They're staring at me. Why are they doing that? Why do they care? Why do I care? Do I care?

I'm afraid I do.

the fear that fills me comes from itself

Identifying is magnifying the feeling I feel.

i'm afraid of

I'm afraid of.

i fear being afraid

Hey you.

Hey you. You know who you are.

I just wanted to tell you some things about your insecurities:

They're irrational.

You are smarter than Einstein.

You sing better than that one fat lady who seems to get the gig singing at the end of everything.

You're skin is so smooth and perfect that if you were in a TV show they'd fire the makeup artist. You know, because they wouldn't need one for you.

You're spine isn't straight? I think that's awesome. Straight is boring.

You're voice is like the sound of sizzling bacon. Beautiful.

That nose? Cuter than a button.

You can out-dance MJ.

Your hair (whatever color it is) is silkier than some rich dudes bath robe.

Awkward body shape? That's like saying "well this Ferrari has a different body shape than that Lamborghini. Therefore it's awkward."

Personally I like girls with pale skin.

You write better than I do.

And your painting? Just because you listed that I know you're good.

Your ideas are your own and you're beautiful. Therefore, by default, so are your ideas.

Music. Unless the music you're listening to is WWII Nazi propaganda, I can guarantee it's great in comparison.

You? Boring? After all of this you think you're boring?

You're anything but boring.

Interruption.

We interrupt your regularly scheduled programming to bring you breaking news.

30 seconds into the intro of Pokémon episode 2 you remembered you have to blog twice.

Yes, that's right. Let the coming wave of panic engulf you.

Now blog. Blog like you're life depends on it, Miles.

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Here's a video:

Brick walls and rainfall

I'm gonna be honest with you here:

I have no idea what this post is going to be about.

But hey, let's find out together.

The most prominent thing I can remember from the past week is Rain. It's just confusing me for some reason.

Why is it raining in February? I mean, I love the rain and all. But it doesn't seem like this type of precipitation should be participating in the almighty season of Winter.

Winter. Win. Ter.

I wanna win something. It's been a while since I've had a notable achievement. My résumé could use some spicing up.

Here are some possible achievements I could be nominated for:

1. All time record for consecutive days I've procrastinated my blog posts. (see "I put the pro in procrastination")

2. General laziness.

3. Most Netflix episodes watched in a day.

Wait, pause.

I just found out the original Pokémon is on Netflix.

Here's a game to play. Spot the guy in class tomorrow who is bleary eyed and sleep deprived. That would be me. Why? I'm about to watch many, many episodes of the nostalgic hit of my childhood.

Goodnight, everyone.

Being Different

This.

The look I get for being different.

I put the Pro in Procrastination.

Well hello again. Long time no read.

Have I ever mentioned to you guys that I just can't stop procrastinating?

Of course I haven't. I've only made three blog posts.

Long story short, it's one of my many shortcomings. It's both a curse and a joy. You can have an awful lot of fun procrastinating, am I right?

Anyways, for your and Nelson's sake I'll try to stop it.


Hey, let's think of some of the many things we all procrastinate with.

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1. Homework (duh)
2. My love life.
3. That one thing you were supposed to do.
4. My dad has asked me like 12 times to take the garbage out, and instead I'm blogging.
5. Going to sleep.
6. Getting help with my procrastination problem.
7. I'm running out of ideas.
8. But I can't stop until I get to ten. (I'm working on goal setting)
9. Someone should bring cookies to class.
10. Phew, that was hard. I'll count that towards my exercise today.


#LazyBlogging #ImNotaTouristIpromise

Welcome to Humanity

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-Welcome to Humanity. You are currently running version 2.14.

-Who am I?

-Whoever you wish to be.

-What am I?

-That has yet to be determined.

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How do I know I'm human? Sometimes I don't.

Then again, sometimes I don't know whether or not I can eat the whole box of donuts, but I do anyways.

So yeah, I'm probably human.

Though everyday I run a program. I'm coded to wake up, designed to fulfill my own desires, and written to be anything I choose.

So I could be a robot.

I think people are capable of being both. You can be a robot, and still have a head and a heart. Blood in your veins, etc.

You become human when differ from your programming.

I need to wake up and update. Change my life. Bring myself out of beta and into production.

That's what growing up is for, ins't it?

You scream, I scream, we all scream

-Because we are terrified.

I fear growing up, getting up, living up.

And that fear of change makes us Human. It Makes me Human.

#Stolen

I'm sitting in the writing lab with you right now, but I can't seem to focus.

So what do I do? Blog about it, duh.

Combing through everyones blogs is an interesting task. It becomes even more interesting when my express purpose is to steal your mental musings.

Wait.

I'm realizing why I can't focus.

I want to know you.

- I can't stop looking around.

- I can't stop trying to figure out who you are.

The things you say are brilliant. I'm reading your personal Paris, and all I want is to see it with my own eyes.

-Miles H.

Intro, not short for introduction. More like introspective.

I should probably use this post to explain who I am. You know, what this blog is going to be about, etc. Stuff like that.

I might do that, maybe. I have commitment issues.

You know, writing helps me gain a different view of life. I wish I actually did it more often, so this'll be good for me. Writing offers me (and maybe you few readers too) an introspective look on the rarely seen world I call me.

I called this blog "Behind the wall of casual." Meaning I'll occasionally write about things I wouldn't normally say aloud. That's good, right? Actually the "goodness" of what's to come has yet to be seen, so I guess I shouldn't jump to conclusions.

Anyways, how are you all? Good? Bad? Utterly apathetic? (This is me attempting to get comments)

Great. I'm already off topic, and talking to inanimate objects.

Woohoo.

This will definitely be interesting.