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All right, so I did this MSN Myspace thing. Which is probably good if you want to know more about me. Also, I’m writing a blog there. I still haven’t figured out what the hell that is. What is a blog? What am I supposed to say? I mean, this a journal. I know what I’m supposed to say here. I tell what’s going on, and then I do other random stuff. That’s easy. But a blog–I don’t know, man, it just has me confused. Regardless, here’s the link. Check it out.
My MSN Space
And since I know that no one really goes through and reads the poems from the poetry section (either in books or art), I figured hell, I’ll show you some of my cool stuff here. And by cool stuff I mean poetry (perverts).
Here’s a poem that I wrote during some pretty tough times. (That was clarification in case any of you are kind of slow. It’s okay, I understand, I am too). +Mod if you like it.
The thundering torrents and waves of fear
among a million other thoughts
swarm and envelope, fighting for supremacy.
Now I understand the symbolism of sleeping beauty.
I woke from dreaming to far greater dream,
yet after my salvation, I must fall to pain.
It seems my only hope is sleeping once again.
I suppose there are advantages,
to these, my darkest days.
If I survive, IÃ¢â‚¬â„¢ll have empathy to everything.
At last, I understand real pain.
A broken heart, a thousand callous screaming voices
drowning out the soul.
And the way your wrists can hunger.
I suppose, then, the question that remains is
will I make it through? Is it even possible?
Where will I make it to?
Where is this prophesied path?
Where will it lead?
I walk on, tired and weary,
hoping only that some day the darkness will disperse,
my fear will dissipate,
and whatever path I find myself on,
will be something less than this tormented hell.
Yeah, I think that’s it. Message me and stuff. As of yet, I haven’t denied a friend request (though I try to at least talk to the person and figure out who they are, first). I’m pretty damn cool, so you should probably + mod me and worship me and stuff. I don’t know, though, it’s up to you.
So, my life is very good right now. Is it really? Well, not according to the details, but let’s take a look, shall we?
1–I’m on leave of absence for work.
2–AKA, I have no money and am behind on payments, and severely in debt.
3–I had surgery like two days ago and am in constant pain.
4–I’m living with my parents for the time being.
1–I just talked to a girl I like for about two hours (a bit less), and we’re planning on throwing her a toaster warming party.
2–My parents are totally taking care of me, and pretty much submitting to my every whim.
3–I just got some sweet birthday presents (Darth Tater is the best Mr. Potato head on the planet)
4–I’m totally getting legal drugs! Whee! Go percaset!
Yeah. So, in conclusion, though it may not seem that great, my life totally rocks right now. Hope all yours are going as well as mine! Have fun!
This is proof that my life is sad. I have no one I feel I can talk to about this, so I come to you, anonymous strangers (and Jeremy) here at RvB, to whine about my problems.
Regardless, it wasn’t a bad day. I woke up, and I was exhilirated. I said “Yay! It’s my birhday!”, and I thought about it, and lent some time to reflection and how far I’ve gotten in my life, and I thought to myself “today is the one day that’s just for you, Rob. Today is your holiday.” And that thought made me happy. The day was typical at best, though. I couldn’t afford any fancy meals, the people I know and care about were all busy, no one really seemed to care too much that it was my birthday, I got the sum total of two presents, one of which isn’t even a present (but I’m not materialistic, so that’s cool. Plus, they were sweet gifts). It just led me to think that, you know, no one really cares. No one wants to get excited for me and my accomplishments. Guess it’s just not worth bothering over. Kind of has me depressed.
*sighs* Yeah, so enough of that. On to my next subject.
Breasts. There is nothing truly pretty or attractive about breasts. A woman’s eyes, a woman’s smile or lips, that’s attractive. No, what the breasts are is mesmerizing. It doesn’t matter who you are, if you’re a male between the ages of thirteen and sixty five, even if you’re driving down the road going sixty, if a woman starts jogging down the sidewalk, your eyes will not be on the road. They will be making the McDonalds sign and silently rooting the woman on. Seriously, you can’t look away! What they are, are these floppy things. Essentially like the chest of a man, only fatter and with larger nipples, but it’s impossible to take your eyes off them! Seriously, it’s hypnotizing. Women, you should try that. Go into a crowd of men and try spelling something. B-O-W D-O-W-N, you would move, and the entire crowd would bow down before you, except for the one confused guy in the crowd, scratching his head, and saying “Boh down? Like a bow in your hair? What the hell?”
Anyway. That’s it for this special birthday edition of my Journal. And–my birthday just ended. What a great use of the last ten minutes of it. *sighs*
Okay, so randomly sometimes, I get these cool little scenes playing out in my mind. They usually don’t have anything to do with whatever is going on in my life, but they can be really cool.
Here’s my one from today:
The silver blade could hardly be seen behind layers of blood. It was being held by a man with long black hair, who wore flowing black robes. His face had apparently been intentionally mutilated, demonstrated by the scar below his right eye–a scar in the form of an ancient celestial symbol.
A second man burst into the room. “Krydan!” he yelled. He held a sword. “Krydan, you unholy bastard! How could you do this!”
The man in black robes turned to him, holding his sword in a non-threatening position. “You know why I did this. You know perfectly well.”
The second man’s face showed two things: that he was furious to the point that he was no longer human, and that he was holding back the desire to throw up. He tightened his grip on his sword, then yelled out “Your twisted sense of vengeance is nothing less than demonic! You’ve destroyed everything! My . . .” his eyes were starting to overflow with tears. “wife, my children, my servants, my home! All I did was–”
“You do not understand what she was to me, Aedan,” interrupted Krydan calmly. “When you sacrificed my daughter for your sin, you took my life, and everything I ever cherished. All I did was return the favor.” The man in black looked with pityless eyes at Aedan.
Aedan looked back furiously, but there was a trace of doubt in his eyes. Apparently overcoming this, though, Aedan charged. He swung the sword for a verticle blow. Krydan simply side stepped it, his sword still at his side. Aedan slashed for a horizontal blow, and Krydan flipped up his sword, parrying it easily.
“YAAH!” Aedan came in again, and again, and blow after blow was easily side-stepped or blocked. Aedan’s frustration was apparent. He continued for several minutes, and then stepped back, clutching his chest from the exhaustion of it all. Krydan began walking towards him, twisting his hold on his sword so it was in a more offensive position. Krydan swung a diagnal blow. Aedan threw up his sword, attempting to block it, but his sword was forced to the side, and the blow went across his face. Blood was dripping in high degrees, but Aedan was still alive and conscious. “My sin is not worth this,” he said.
Krydan never broke eye contact as he continued to slowly walk towards Aedan. He was completely silent. Aedan began to quiver. Krydan continued to make small, un-fatal blows, which Aedan simply could not block. Then suddenly, Krydan kicked him hard in the stomach, and he fell onto his back. Aedan’s blood formed in a pool from his many injuries, and spread across the wooden floor. Krydan stepped into this pool.
Aedan choked on blood, and looked up at Krydan, his image blurred with the deep crimson liquid that was flowing down Aedan’s face. Aedan’s face was now filled with doubt. “God hates me,” he muttered.
“No,Ã¢â‚¬Â said Krydan, lifting his sword. Ã¢â‚¬Å“No, Aedan. God does not hate you. I hate you!Ã¢â‚¬Â Krydan swung the blade down hard . . . .
Yeah, so that’s the image. I guess, if you check this out and don’t get impatient (like you guys always do, ya punks), comment on it.
So, yeah, people complained because I wrote a long intro in my last journal entry. I even made compressed versions for the impatient! But alas, y’all suck, so you couldn’t even follow simple instructions.
As far as what’s goin’ on? I’ve got all but one episode of RvB now (which isn’t including Sponsor only episodes), so I’m just waiting for Sunday for that. I’m also eagerly awaiting being able to upgrade my account, but the Sponsor option still hasn’t reappeared (even though a staff told me it would be back by mid-July. *shakes fist*). Other than that, there’s my real life. What’s goin’ on there? Drugs. I love getting morphine legally. It feels so cool, and completely warps any sense of time, or any ability in short term memory. Apparently I kept repeating to my dad that he needed to do yoga (my dad was there to give me a ride home).
Yeah, so as a short summary, waiting and drugs. Story of my life.
Probably not yours,
One more rotation and all I’ll have to nab are the PSAs and episode 8 (which was corrupted). Then, of course, when I upgrade, I’ll get all the hi-res. Bwa-ha-ha! On a side now, how the fuke do you get mod points? (For the fuke comment, see my pic comments.)
(To help you out! I’m going to put a paragraph summary in bold at the end of each thing! That way all of us impatient folks can find out a little about me, too! I’m using a lot of exclamation marks! I must be excited!)
So, as I look at this site, my little home page in particular, I realize that I don’t seem like that interesting of a guy. Why should I be? Besides the fact that I have a cool pic of cloud (which is pretty sweet looking, admittedly, but not even something that could be called unique), I just seem like any other RvB fan out there. So, I think to myself, “how can I solve this?” Not that being ordinary is necessarily something to be ashamed of. As was said in Garden State (awesome movie if you haven’t seen it. Story of our generation and our struggles), “I’m okay with being unimpressive. I sleep better.” Anyway, back to my boring little story. I decided, hell, what I ought to do is tell these people who I am, where I’m coming from. After all, no way to tell if I’m interesting or not if you have no clue who I am. Plus, there doesn’t seem to be tons of space in my profile for most of this information.
(I’m going to tell you about myself.)
So, about me. Who am I? My name’s Rob Young, but I usually go by Rob Faeth. This second name started as my pen name, but I ended up using it so often that my two names became interchangeable. In all honesty, it doesn’t matter to me what people call me. I simply refuse to believe that names hold any validity, aside from a sort of place marker for people.
(My name is Rob Young or Rob Faeth. I really don’t care what you call me.)
My profession? I’d like to say that I’m a succesful writer, but alas, I would be lying. I write pretty frequently, and according to everyone I’ve spoken to (college professors, friends, family, etc.), I’m very gifted. Previous room-mates have requested signed copies of my short stories. I’m an “international award winning writer”, which means that I wrote an essay in high-school that won co-third place. There were thousands of entries, so I think that’s pretty cool. The short story I entered won an honorable mention as well. So, when I feel like sounding like I’ve had some degree of succes, I tag that on. As far as how I earn money, currently, I don’t. Generally I’m a caretaker, helping take care of mentally handicapped people. However, due to an extreme illness (long story, and not something I want any pity for, so no need for details), I was put on leave of absense. This means, among other things, that I’m completely broke. Over the past few months I’ve been volunteering to act at a community theater (another something that people tell me I’m quite good at, but I don’t necessarily hold an opinion. I know a lot of people who are just as good, if not better, then I am). I aspire to become a teacher, here in the US. Why? Why would I return to the public school system? Because the only thing that is any good about it is the occassional good teacher. I had three in my high-school career, and they’re the reason I finished it. I’d like to be able to do that for other people.
(I write, but haven’t published. I have, however, won awards. I work as a caretaker for mentally handicapped people, but I’m currently not working due to circumstances beyond my control. I act on the side, and hope to be a high-school teacher some day)
I’m a very non-typical person. I’m LDS (mormon in the common tongue, but I don’t consider myself a “mormon” per se). I believe very strongly in God, and am not ashamed of that. However, I don’t desire to force that belief on people, and consider myself very open minded. I love the study of all religion and philosophy, and practice meditation and yoga as well as the beliefs of the LDS religion. I love taoism, and most eastern culture. Yoga and meditation, opening chakras, etc, have been the only cures for clinical depression. Oh, and screaming to loud music. My study of philosophy, and quantum physics as well, has led me not to believe in several things. Time is one of them. Labels are another.
(I’m LDS (or mormon), but not a typical judgemental kind. I love all sorts of religion)
I’ve been into RvB since the beginning of season three, when the site was recommended by some friends of mine. I’ve been addicted ever since. It’s hard to find something to lighten your mood quite as well as these episodes can. In my beliefs, RvB is a sure sign that God loves us. “And God so loved the world, he gave us the creators of RvB” or something like that.
My life has been interesting. Tougher than many people’s, I think, but I know people who’ve endured ten times as much. I look forward to the experiences that life brings, even the hard ones. I love art (including the stuff found in literature, movies, video games, etc.) Life has infinite joy, if you’re just willing to look for it. Many times, I think people just forget to live. If we remember that this is all we have, and that if we push ourselves, we have infinite capability (after all, none have proven otherwise), then we can have an incredible experience in life.
(Life’s pretty cool, too.)
As far as what I want to accomplish from this? Hell, I don’t know. But seriously, guys, I wouldn’t mind having more o’ you guys as friends online here. So feel free to send those friend requests. I really don’t mind.
(Please be my friends!)
I look forward to it. Have fun, all.
Copyright © 2018 Rob Blair Writes