I really haven’t been posting much on here, have I? How is everyone? Having a good life and all that jazz, I hope. Well, I’ve been busy acting in my first (and probably last) production, getting ready for a slew of concerts and such with all of the band classes and ensembles I’m in, and dealing with some drama. So, pretty much normal life for me, sans free time. Talk to ya soon!

~Zach

Please, please, PLEASE do NOT follow me if you don’t plan on at least talking to me once in a while. Yes, I realize this site is for blogging, but if I didn’t want feedback, I’d just write in a damn diary.

Sick of stupid people,

~Zach

I have finally broken down and done the one thing I swore I wouldn’t do until my life was sorted out: I’m back with Leo. The boy in Italy I’ve been head-over-heels for since we met, and that was my longest-lasting relationship. Period. He’s my everything, and I swore it was for the better that we waited…but I’m too damn impatient to stand by. I’m back with him and, by god, I’m staying there.

I’m finally about to be happy again.

~Zach

I don’t believe in God. One can hate me for saying it, but this is my message, and not one’s own. But just because I don’t believe in God, doesn’t mean I don’t believe in the people who do. It just means I don’t practice worshiping an almighty, omnipresent being that everyone tells me is guiding me. The point of the matter is that I believe in what I experience, not what others tell me to experience. And what I’ve experienced is this: humanity. I have seen the effects of the decadence of kings, and the diligence of vassals; the cruelty of churches, and the kindness of atheists; the lies of politicians, and the humble wisdom of paupers. I have seen all of these, and I have learned one thing: I believe in them all. I have hope for them all.

I believe in the opulent expenditures of the bourgeoisie; the rich of the state dressing in sultry gowns and gaudy jewels in order to flaunt their endowment of riches. I believe in this behaviour because, albeit excessively so, it signifies that taking pride in one’s accomplishments is imperative to contentment. However, I also believe in the philosophy of those who serve: diligence in the task at hand. I believe the working man, too, teaches us a wise tactic: focusing on the task at hand, and accomplishing one’s goals.

I believe that churches, too, are wise, and should be acknowledged. For while many know them as institutions which instill fear and intolerance of other men with differences of opinion, they also allow another light into our lives: hope, and the ability to believe in something. At the same time, I believe in the hearts and minds of Atheists, for they know with their hearts and minds what we, men, should also learn how to use: logic and proper reasoning in our everyday activities.

I believe, also, in the corruption of political forces, and individuals who hold power. I believe that the compulsory need to lie and obscure truths as an individual of authority is a wise lesson to teach our fellow men of lesser fortune: the ability to conceal one’s weaknesses from possible predators. The lowliest of beggars, as pesky and cumbersome they may seem to the less understanding, also present a benefit to man: self-interest. Taking care of oneself even when no one else will think of doing the same for you; the occasional putting one’s needs ahead of one’s brother…a lesson very much in need of being taught.

So, you see, I may have affirmed my lack of faith in a God that may or may not exist; but I hope I have proven that, if a god did create men, then they’ve provided every vital piece needed to unite man. If there were a brotherhood between leaders and followers; between sacred and secular; and the powerful and the destitute, we could achieve tranquility on this Earth—in the world. So, no, I don’t have faith in “God”; I have hope in man.

It’s it. You got Faith No More, and they tell you that. “It’s it.” It IS it. It is nothing, it is everything, it is me, it is you. It has no meaning other than it. I have no meaning other than I. And I am not you. I am not going to be you, and I am not trying to be you. I am not anything but clingy, and obsessive, and on the edge, and stoic, and excitable, and cynical, and sweet, and sour, and serene and collapsing in on myself like a solar body going supernova. Boom! I’m all over the papers and the screens as the next big nobody, and the future ex-someone. I will never be a symbol for any status other than being me, and a symbol is all I am: my body is just a front for my soul, which is a font from my brain, which is the heart of my head. Everything just kinda falls into place like puzzle pieces on acid—it all fits together in the end, even if it’s a little fucked up on the way down. Three times three is nine, and three times me is one hell of a party that’s heading for disaster. Call it a cannon, call me a blaster. The pastor of a rhyme that has nothing to do with time or God, because I don’t know if it’s even around. What’s up is down, what’s time is space, and what’s reason is just a bunch of words that I’ll pay attention to if I have nothing better to do. Who are you? Who WERE you? Who will you be? What will you see? I can assure you you were not me, you aren’t me, but you just could be me if you looked a little like me. And that’s okay—be me all you want. It saves me the trouble if I have a double, but it’ll just double the delusions society feels about what’s real. I am real. I am fake. I am just a pawn on some cosmic chessboard, and all of this keeps swimming around in my brain like a koi pond for a scientist born a bastard child of a hooker and a preacher man. I’m a blonde-haired, stormy-eyed mess with a pain in my chest that’s imagination just bursting to come out, but no one understands. They point and laugh because they’re too scared to admit I’m who they want to be, and who they never wanted to know.

I’m just a kid, man, now lend me a dollar would you? I just wanna grab a soda.

…all but 2 people and the staff. Why? Because I warned you all that I’d remove anyone who didn’t actually pay attention to anything I do, or talk to me. So, it’s up to you guys to remedy the situation. If you choose not to, that’s cool, I just won’t talk to you again.

Simplicity.

~Zach

…of none of my followers ever trying to talk to me. Or read anything I type. Or anything. I’m about to just start removing them all. So, message me if you want to stay. Also, I’m really not feeling a creative impulse to blog or write or anything anymore, so I probably will just stop logging in soon enough. Just a fair warning.

I hate having a borderline personality,

~Zach