This is just me again. Venting. Why can't I state my opinion without getting beaten up over things I have said or inferred. Even when I admit that my opinion is wrong people still bash mine in with rocks. I'm tired of this. I feel I might need to just get away for a while. I don't know.
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Here's something annoying. The world went nuts over Apple presented their first major software upgrade since they launched the iPhone. I went through my Facebook wall reading status after status about how awesome iOS7 was. I'm not going to delve too much into that, but the thing is that Apple users for some reason are allowed to boast, brag, flaunt, and show off how wonderful their phones are. Yeah, companies like Apple, I understand that. For that reason, Apple has the largest app store. I also understand that. What I don't understand though, is why Apple users; the devoted Apple people hear or see Microsoft and seem to cringe. Microsoft releases one of their biggest releases which in a sense creates a tablet and a laptop experience in the same device. People all over the world ragged on this because they don't like Microsoft. Now the thing that is truly annoying is that after all of the flaunting and continuous bragging about iPhone and Apple, Microsoft release the world's best phone with a camera, a second installment in their huge upgrade and even one mention of this on the internet and Apple users go crazy. Why is it that a person can be shouted at and insulted because of honest critique of iOS7, but the second a Microsoft user posts a comment about Windows Phone 8, all those Apple users that shouted coming running to dump trash on the user of the Microsoft device? If I can't comment on your devices, you absolutely cannot come and negatively trash my devices. The majority of Apple users have never tried some of the innovations produced by Microsoft. The thing though, is that Microsoft, while small and disliked by the world, is innovative, clean, inventive, and is found in a broader spectrum of electronic devices, software and entertainment. Microsoft is simply the technology for the creative thinker. I'm not saying I don't like Apple, I'm saying I don't like the attitude brought about by several Apple users. I don't user Apple simply because my past experiences have rendered difficult, frustrating and financially devastating.
I'm sorry if this offended anyone or wrought anger. I was just venting. She never liked to dance. However, in this moment, I stared at her, no romance in my eyes, just fear. I watched as a marble-sized tear streamed down the outside of her cheek.
Was she really crying right now? She was the one that chose to leave. Over a year ago. Maybe, if she'd stayed, none of this would be happening right now. "Quit crying!" I snapped at her, which only induced additional tears. I glanced backwards at the men suited in identical uniforms with large guns pointed at me. I only wondered why. Even if they were to kill me right here, right now. It wouldn't make a difference. I had nothing to live for. She pushed the officer in front of her away with great force and ran up to me. Her face just inches below mine, gazing upward, staring lovingly into my eyes. She didn't touch me, not yet at least. I could tell she was trying so hard to speak, but emotions held her back like binds on her words. She pulled her gaze from my eyes and looked away. "I..." she choked out struggling to maintain control of her voice, her eyes, her body. She didn't want to she weakness, even though she already had. "I'm sorry." I wanted so bad to laugh at those words in that combination. I was the one that was obsessed. I was the one that was vulnerable when our relationship, our connection, our friendship had been terminated by the very person uttering those words now. I tried on several occasions to understand what I had done to ruin our relationship. Even with all the irony of this confrontation, I couldn't laugh; in fact, I looked at her, without the anger. With all my strength to prevent myself, I still responded with, "I'm sorry too." Out of nowhere, I felt a tug at my emotions. Was I crying? I wouldn't allow it. I coughed to rid myself of the emotion, but it only made it more obvious. She looked up at me, noticing my breakdown. A warm, loving embrace brought me out of the moment and back to a time before. I was no longer in police headquarters surrounded by half a dozen soldiers aiming at me. That embrace brought me back to the time when we sat on her back porch and stared at the sun as it descended into the night. Her warm body pressed against mine as light faded to a calm summer night; the only sound were the crickets, chirping in the distance. As quickly as I had been taken to a moment of nostalgia, one of the soldiers grabbed my shoulder and yanked me back away. I was faced towards the exit, pushed to my knees with a handgun placed against the back of my head. Then I heard her the last words I would hear her say, "I wish we had one more dance." A tear rolled down my face. This is the end. Today, I guess I'll give a bit of a background for my story, since a lot falls into that story. It is something I've been working on for several years.
Caleb Park is the main character who resides in Coronado, California. He is grieving over the break up between him and his ex girlfriend from over a year ago. Dreams haunt his sleep of the once potential, but lost love. The dreams become so intense, Caleb loses track of his life. He can't seem to find the balance between real life and the nightmares. Then, suddenly, real life and the dreams collide as Caleb rolls his car and winds up in the hospital. When he awakes, his life is suddenly playing out as a complete disaster. Blood stains his home and he must search to find out what happened. As of lately, I've felt ridiculously exhausted. I think a lot of it is that I'm exhausted with work. I'm terribly sick of people taking advantage of me. In the past three jobs, I've been the person everyone else relies on either for duties or to place the blame. Over a year ago, I worked for a company that within one week of work, placed me as closer and then constantly told me my job was terribly done. Several times in that job, I showed up and was immediately left alone. Nothing had been done all day, so of course, I had to pick up the slack of others. The next day I'd get chewed out for not doing everything I was supposedly supposed to do. Later during my time there, I checked the list they gave me and did each item exactly how I'd been shown and only the items on the list for my shift. The next day resulted with the same consequences. My next job was a complete set up from the first day I worked there. My boss obviously didn't like me just from body language. The management skills were terrible. My first day of training was two and a half months after I had been working there, my orientation was one month after working and I was constantly yelled at about my ability to work. During my four month duration, I was transferred twice, one time with another manager. While working under the manager, I noticed his work was lazy and missed several points I had been yelled at for. He spent several hours waiting, and I had to wait for him. He would complain about other workers in different areas of the campus. Then several of his workers would show up hours late. After my transfer back to cleaning toilets on my own, I began receiving complaints about my work again. Soon after, I received a call and notice that I was being fired. The reason for my termination was because I left fifteen minutes early. My reasoning for this was that, I don't smoke and essentially just worked my shift and then left. Each employee was allowed a fifteen minute break to smoke and do whatever. I skipped that and just worked until I was done. It was only a four hour job. I mentioned it to my manager while working with him. When I received the call, I was given no chance to explain and my former manager supposedly told me not to leave early, which I never received any sort of notice. Also, refer back earlier when I mentioned the several employees who showed up hours late. My most recent job upsets me merely because with so many mishaps, they still haven't hired any new people and I am becoming trapped into a corner. I have set out a certain schedule which they agreed to but I noticed them slowly sneaking around that schedule by slowly scheduling me on days I'm not available on. It's just a bit frustrating. Okay, I've rambled on. I'm sorry if I wasted your time. Not only work, but several other things cause me to be stressed, exhausted and used. Good night.
I'm excited. The end. Just kidding. I'm excited about a lot of things, whether that is a positive or a negative connotation, it depends on the topic. I'm excited for music, writing, school to end, to travel, to maybe even disappear. Music is my life. A phrase so often coined without thought of what that even means. To say that music is your life would mean that you breath, sleep, dream, exist based on music. Now, I hear this from three types of people most often: you have the top 40 lovers that know only what's played on the radio, but know each of those songs perfectly. Well, I don't know how you couldn't. Anyone that owns a radio could know the songs verbatim. The second group are "emo" kids or the "goths". These are people that dress and act according to the music. They tend to express to any person anywhere that they feel the emotion of the music. Okay, but anyone who listens to music can feel the emotion of the song. If a song is a ballad, people feel love struck or very sensitive. Whereas, if the song is a loud, aggressive song, people will feel tense and angry. It's really not that hard to feel the emotion of music. I think, in my own opinion, that the people that the phrase, music is my life, can most correctly be attached to is the people that actually do it. A musician isn't someone that knows the songs by heart, or dresses to portray the feeling, a musician is a person who works for years on understanding the concept of music. They play the music in their soul and with all their person. They literally live off of the music, people who personally or as a unit create the words, instrumentals, and emotion of songs. People that have spent hours upon hours composing pieces, editing and revising, play garage shows to just let people hear what they have to offer. That's a musician to me. I'm excited about music because my life has been surrounded by it and my band of seven years is soon to take off again and do some awesome stuff with our talents. For me, writing is an escape. I love to write. I love to create stories of things that haven't happened yet. Since I was maybe ten, I have written. It may not have been professional level; even now I'm not even close to professionalism, but I keep writing. If you haven't noticed, I have been writing on this blog, but I also have several stories I'm currently working on. It's probably not the best idea to work on various pieces at once, but I am. I have ideas and if I wait until I'm published and have all of the stuff I've thought out before I take my ideas down, I will not accomplish anything. I'm excited for writing because I figured out how to tie together three of my stories that will make up a trilogy. Much like this page says, I tend to dream in monochrome. The black and white. The paper and pen. Everyone hates school. Very few people are in school to learn. Most go in order to achieve a greater life career. I won't say there aren't people who love to learn because there are. I; however, am not one of those people. I graduated high school (12 years), immediately left the following fall for my LDS Mission to the Philippines, came home after 2 years, late two weeks for fall semester of school. I studied at S.L.C.C. for a semester, then at Snow College for a semester, then at BYU for a summer semester, then at Snow College for another semester, then the University of Utah for two semesters now and I just want it to end. Technically, I should have my Associates by now, but because I failed three classes at Snow College and one at the University of Utah. I decided to myself that I go as far as my Bachelor's which I'm also very close to getting. I just need to pass a couple classes to obtain my degree. After I graduate, I'm traveling for years. I'm excited to travel. It doesn't matter where, but I just need to leave. I would love to live in the Philippines and I've considered it. I often compare people to stars in the sky. There are billions of stars and also billions of people. Maybe I'll be like a fading star sinking beneath the horizon of some other world; just disappear for a while.
Lately, it feels like my mind is extremely distracted. I don't mean being unfocused on the task laid before you, but in all aspects. My homework, school, friends, music, projects, work; they all seem just there kind of. It's a hard thing to explain, but that's how I feel. I love my friends to death and I love playing music and writing, but I feel like I'm at a block or in a rut or something.
For an example, I have been writing a story for the past five years. I've gotten all the way through it twice, unfortunately, one of those times the file got a virus and I lost the project. My writing is so good, I feel, on some days, but then others it seems like complete shit. I don't know what I'm doing wrong. Also, last year I was able to consistently write each day. Now I can barely get one hundred words in in even a week. Music I will admit is not nearly as bad, in fact, we wrote some really good stuff recently. I'm really hoping music works out because honestly, I don't know what to do with my life. I kind of want to just pack up my life and move to the Philippines or Japan or something. I am slowly losing my mind staying here in Utah. And as much as that hurts, it's what I've honestly been debating for the past two years. I only realized it last May when I traveled back to the Philippines. I realized the time I was happiest since I've been home from my mission was back in my mission. I don't feel happy here unless I'm creating music. That's the one thing that keeps me going each day. I am one of those kids that tried to write poetry at the age of ten and fell asleep with a radio since I was at least eight. Music is a big portion of my life. I just wish school was done and I could use my money for something besides paying for class. If I was done with school, I'd probably travel the world for a little bit and then wait until I meet the one, as it's said. I don't know when that is, but all I know is that I'm ready. As I write this, I'm listening to a playlist I created on Spotify. My playlist is entitled "Beauty in Disaster". Music, to me, has changed meaning over the periods of time throughout my life. For several years growing up, music is merely an enjoyable experience, hearing only the way a song may sound. Although nothing is wrong with this, it is extremely shallow and thin top layer of what immersing one's self into the musical experience. I, later like many others, became a rebellious soul chasing loud, aggressive, degrading music. Most bands which included the words "death", or "hate" in the titles. This was also a very shallow experience, seeing I only breached the next layer. I listened to this music based on the stylistic sound and energy. I barely understood the lyrics. As time progressed, I began exploring different genres and devouring the various artists within each genre. Soon, I began to appreciate a deeper side of music. This especially occurred due to the fact that I myself was in a band and because I was taking several music classes discussing theory. Now, much of my music is deep emotional songs about life, trials, pain, and real life. The reason my playlist is called "Beauty in Disaster" is because many of the songs discuss sensitive subjects but do it in a beautifully musical way. First off, I'm going to apologize for my last post because it was one of the worst posts I've ever made anywhere on the internet. It was terrible. The other night there were two people that were in an accident in the Philippines. They were driving a motorcycle and were loving parents and friends to many people. In case you didn't know, I have a strong connection with the Philippines because I spent two years there serving my God in a mission to share the Gospel of Jesus Christ. The two people that were in the accident were leaders and caretakers in a stake of the church. Unfortunately, they passed away due to major injuries from the crash. It's terrible to think of death. Many people wonder why death happens too quick for some people, even great people, and yet, why it is slow with others. Death is a chance of fate and a decision of God. Sometimes God finds an individual so special and wants to keep them free from the terrible chaos of this world that he takes them sooner than desired by those that love him on the earth, but God loves all of us the same. It's not that he's choosing them over others, it's just that he misses them, much like a father whose child is far away. He has special missions for certain people that have an especially powerful spirit and faith to them We never know when or where or by what circumstances we may pass. With that said, we should cherish every moment we have on this earth, learn as much as we can, and grow among others through friendships. Death is a sad thing that inevitably will find each one of us at a point in our lives. Live for your life, enjoy each passing moment, and see the world. That's what life is about. It's about living. (R.I.P. Brother and Sister Lugo) Sometimes, I think myself a bit strange. I've written for some time now, in a recreational form, and noticed a seemingly similar topic. With each piece I write, there's a similarity. People tell me to write about what I know, but the thing is it's nothing I've ever experienced, but I wonder if it means I would want to experience it, or maybe it means I feel satisfied by the torment of others. All my writing seems to focus on the tragedy of love or blessings. In several of my larger works, I discuss death, murder, darkness. I guess I could contribute a bit of my inspiration on the ancient myths. Some of my favorite stories include the fall of Troy, Icarus, Oedipus, etc. Each one of these stories follows a similar pattern. There seems to be a blessing of some sort like in Troy. Paris is given a chance to possess love and chooses Helen. Consequences include war, and fatality. Another story I've followed was The Inferno by Dante; the story of a traveler journeying through the gapes of hell. On the contrary, if any writing were to glitter up all the hardships and trials of life, it would be boring. If we simply skipped over "A thousand sails approaching, sent here in her name, to reclaim the one I stole and destroy the walls of Troy"
-"The Third Temptation of Paris", Alesana |
AuthorMatthew Petrucci characterizes himself as a kind and friendly person. Writing, music, and any sort of artistic hobby suits Matthew as entertainment and enjoyable. He embraces close friendships and remains true and loyal to those who take him in. Archives
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