What Keeps me Writing pt. 2

I am what I write. I write what I am.

Writing is not simply putting pen to paper, it is more. When I write, I do not simply etch my pen to whatever pops into my head. No, I sit there ready while faceless shadows creep up and tell me their story. They slowly become people, wondrous, terrible, people. The Brutes, Judas, Ephiliates, Benedict Arnolds. The Hercules, Ceasars, Aragorns, knights in shining armor. The Achilles, the Romeos, Odesyus. They whisper in one ear, dictating their tales. In the other, Shakespeare, Tolkien, Carrol, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, guide my mind, my hand, my pen.

These people, the shadows, and the grand Authors, they strike when least expected, but when they do, it is wonderful. When they leave, they leave a void that aches to be filled. It must be filled. And so I must write. They return when I do, They return to their grandeur, to their prime.

They live in the pen, the ink, the page. They live forever, if but I only give them a chance. And so I write.

And I will write. Until I can no longer feel the pen. Until I no longer hear the click of the keyboard. Until I can no longer smell the crispness of a new book. Until I can no longer see the pages, the letters. I will write. I will write so that I can live forever, to join the ranks of great authors, writers, poets. I will write

One of my favorite quotes ever:

"There is one rule, above all others, for being a man. Whatever comes, face it on your feet."
— Robert Jordan (The Great Hunt)

Bicentenario

Tonight is the 200th anniversary of Mexican Independence. There's a big party going on practically right outside our hotel, but my family is boring and think it will be more fun to stay inside and watch the tube. Oh well, At least I might be able to see some fireworks.

The Nacho Cheese is a Lie

And so are sombreros.

I've been in Mexico for almost two whole days and I have yet to see any form of nacho cheese or sombreros. What the heck is up with the American visualization of Mexicans? 

Oh well.

My new house is pretty awesome. Especially my bedroom. Even though it is about the size of my parent's bathroom, it has some pretty cool features:
 
  1.It is like my own personal Man Cave. It is the only downstairs bedroom.

  2.It is right next to the secretive back staircase.

  3.The AC and Fan actually work, making mine one of the coldest rooms in the house. This is especially important when under the hot Mexican sun.

Remember Me

For any of you who still read the blogs, this is for you:

While the time has come for most of you to say hello, I have come to say goodbye. Chances are we'll never meet again, but for at least once in my life, I hope against probability, pray against logic and try to look beyond the rational. This school has changed me, shaped me into who I am. I will remember each time I passed anyone of you in the hallway, each joke, each time we sat and laughed, I will remember you. So I ask just one thing: Remember me.

I don't know if anyone even checks the blogs anymore, but I pray that, even if you haven't been on blogger since we stopped in English class, even if you never will again, you will feel the urge to look up my blog one last time. this time. I want you to read this heartfelt farewell because I don't want to be the kind of person who fades away and is forgotten, that one kid from eighth grade science, so I ask one thing: Remember me.

Through my years at this school, I have learned friendship, and the very though of leaving any of you, whether we were friends or just acquaintances. Whether you worshiped me or hated me or even simply knew me. The anguish that I feel every time I think of leaving is tearing me apart. I know that I cannot hold on, but I will not let go. So please, do just one thing: Remember me.

It's not the move that I am worried about. I don't mind moving to new places and going on new adventures, its you that I am terrified of leaving. All of you, any friend that I have made here. If I could, I would pick up the school and everyone in it, and take it to Mexico. But I can't so please do one thing: Remember me.

Today I went to Meet the Teacher day, I kept a straight face, but it was simply a dam to hold back the tears, the memories of four years of living here, I looked into everyone's face, knowing that this could be the last time. It was all I could do to hold back the flood of emotion that threatened to burst through my straight face every time I saw a friend, a familiar face, a teacher, a fellow student. with each goodbye I felt my soul being torn to pieces, being ripped by greedy claws, being cut with a dull blade. I couldn't stand it, but I held back every tear, every last one, but behind my emotionless face, everything I have ever done here sloshed around in turmoil and chaos.With each piece of my soul that was torn by this chaos, I felt something die inside. This world is dying to me, and I watch the end through dying eyes. But some memories never die. my memories of all of you will be pushed around and strained to their limits, but they will not be lost. So I beseech you: Remember me.

All is lost again. But I am not giving in. I will move on. I will keep going. I will not bow. I will not break. Every piece of my soul that is torn off will be replaced by many others ready to take in and love a new world. This pain is so familiar and close to the heart, but no matter what, No more, no less: I won't forget you. So Remember me.

Show me where forever ends and I will be there of this wonderful life that I have lived here not forgotten. So Remember me.

Now, there is nothing left to lose but memories. I pray that I won't lose too many. Don't lose any of me. Remember me.

If I have wronged you in any way please forgive me. I have already forgiven and forgotten any thing that any of you have done to me. I don;t want to become nothing but a fleeting memory, so Remember me.

This is my farewell. My last stand.. Remember me.


Some lines were quoted from the Breaking Benjamin songs Hopeless, I Will Not Bow, and Without You