Tuesday, October 26, 2010

Fuck

I'll use swears however i want to. If i want to say, "Fuck off" I shall say, fuck off.

I have found out I have a real problem with people trying to control my language. I'm particularly loquacious, and when someone tries to stopper my expression, it bothers me to no end. If i say, "Paint her face blue and white, and then add a big ass scar." thats what i mean. Trying to alter the adjective takes away my ability to express myself, because instead of using the term that i think adequately describes the scar, I have to rethink my entire system of size, avoiding words that do the scar justice.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not dependent on foul language. My vocabulary is quite sufficient without the use of curses and such. Thats what makes their usage so efficient and important. When i choose to use a cuss word, then i have chosen it for a very specific reason. For instance, When I am chumming about with my mates, if i happen to call on of them a "Pickled Cunt-Knuckle", I did so for either two reasons. One, they did something of colossal stupidity, and deserve to reprimanded in an equally spectacular manner. Or two, I did so jokingly, and, using such provocative language, encourage a laugh or two. Replacing the word, "Cunt" with "Silly" renders the joke humourless, and unintelligible.

I'm going to branch off the main topic a little in this last paragraph, so hold on to your thinking caps. What bothers me the most about people trying to deny the usage of foul language, is that they dislike the word, simply because it is considered a "swear." The don't look at the context in which it's used, simply that it has been said. If my friend makes me squirt apple juice out of my nose, by telling a hilarious story, and i proceed to say, with a smile on my face, "Bitch!", should the use of that word be deemed taboo? I'm using it to express my surprise, awe and respect for the situation, and my friend. That seems to be perfectly harmless. Lets flip the table. I run at one of these people, who disagree with the use of unpleasant language, with a large knife while screaming, "SUNFLOWER!!!!" Even though this is an innocent word, it is filled with malice. Should the word "sunflower" be associated with genocide, torture, and starving children simply because of the emotion it is said with? Replace "Sunflower" with any other word, it's the emotion and the intent of the word, not the word itself, when dealing with adjectives and adverbs.

Hopefully that made sense. Btw, if your offended by this language, stop reading. Its not that tough. To emphasize this point, FUCK COCK MOTHERFUCKER SHITFACE DICKHEAEDED BITCHWHORE GIRL ORANGE ORANGE BANANA HEADPHONE EXPLOSION!!!!! If you just read that to the end, you obviously see that i don't need swears to be angry, but if you stopped at the swears, then who will never know. You also won't be reading this. Muahahaha.

Thursday, October 21, 2010

SERIOUS ALERT

We don't fit. It's simple. It's painful. It's true.

You learn as you go through life. Every experience is another lesson. And every mistake you make, you learn. Hard as it may be, you must bear every bit of pain, and walk away alive. That is life. Every action has it's consequence, and all of the consequences must be borne.

I broke up with a girl in edmonton. We don't fit. We don't, it's a simple fact.

She showed me love. If you go through life, picturing yourself as a funny guy, devoid of attraction, and someone shows you love, you assume its a sign. You jump at that person, filled with hope and excitement, that finally, you have that completing piece of the puzzle. Little do you know, it's not about love its self, but the person who is giving it. Love is a byproduct of a person. Not the end goal.

I have to justify being a bastard. But, no matter how disgusting or ignoble I seem to the girl, I must follow through. Because, to lie to her is the worse of two evils. Better i leave her heart bruised, then shatter it a year down the lane.

Saturday, October 16, 2010

How young am I?

If i play my cards right, I can be a wild youth till i'm 30. Seeing as I began partying 2 years ago, that means out of a potential 15 wild years, I still have 13 years of them. Pow, I am young and far too concerned with myself. I should accept that at 17, I have an explosive amount of potential, yet absolutely no training. Therefore, the best path that I can currently see, is the either, A) Blindly create with an extreme disregard for what my head tells me is garbage, or B) Hold this creativity close to my heart, so that the day i have a ravine of my river of creative thought, it shall flow like no tomorrow.

Seeing as apathy and self-concern is too overpowering at the present time, option B seems to be the most feasible. However, I am once again not factoring in the fact that i am stupidly young. In 5 years, I'll have a crap load of training, yet, hopefully, I'll still have most of, if not more, of the creative thoughts.

Right now, I'm seeing talent explode around me, and it concerns me. I see fireworks, which burst forth into the world with brilliance. It frightens me, feeling like I am no firework, and therefor no artist, no creator. It is my deepest hope and wish, that i am instead a candle. Something that will go on and on into the world, with a sustaining light, that guides others.

So, in short, I will not let my sloth disturb me. I am not lazy, because of apathy. I am timid, because of fear of impotence. The system has ingrained such fear of technical correctness, that any and all attempts to do something in innocence, and ernest, are hampered considerably.

I feel like I'm mumbling in lofty ideological terms. But you know what? I like using lofty ideological terms. It gives my petty thoughts a feeling of grandeur unbecoming of their position in life. I think thats what being an actor is all about.

Friday, October 1, 2010

Direction and Musing

Nostalgia. I'm not a fan of it. That, and pointless longing. Both of them are basically say, "This fact can't change, but lets waste words talking about it" Whenever i find myself facing overwhelming amounts of these two, I feel the need to change the subject. I just don't like wasting my emotions on irrefutable facts.

I also like the direction this blog is taking. No real pressure to post, just thoughts and ideas. Which is what it should be.

Thursday, September 30, 2010

Three brief things

One. i'm a whore and a gossip. I'm cool with that, so no worries. I'm also a flirt, but i'm proud of that.

Two. I'm acting. I feel a determination that will carry me to the end of the earth. Look up the beatles. I feel like them.

Three. Even though i can get sad, I'm mostly happy. Which is good. I think a person needs to get horribly depressed and pull out of it, to really appreciate happiness. You realize how much of a gift it is.

Monday, August 30, 2010

Bueaty

Why is it so seldom found? So few things reach us. Is this the mass desensitizing of the younger generation that we've heard so much about? Or are we just simpler then our elders? Whats worse though, is that once we've found it, we can't put it down. We can't keep it, or reflect it, or harness it. We simply feel it, and are moved to such lengths, that we strive to express it, in a form just as wonderful as how we received it. Yet, we falter. We can't. I want to know why.

New train of thought.

It's funny. We can't appreciate ourselves, for who we are. Have you noticed that? I cant properly explain it. But it's true all the same.

Saturday, July 10, 2010

One Moment

I'm taking a rare moment of self reflection. Please take the window into my life, and do as you please with it. I'm going to attempt to be as thorough as possible. I apologize if many/all of these facts seem inconsequential. (HA, i didn't even have to use spell check.)

WoW, (world of warcraft), is working again. It gives me hope that the computer is not completely bombed out. Not to mention, it's a very relaxing game. This has comforted me.

Artstrek is tomorrow. On that I have little to say. It is what it is, and its a huge part of my life. Therefore, the lack of excitement/concern i'm feeling is disconcerting. In the end, If i live in the now, it will all work out.

Maybe due to artstrek, I felt very hypersensitive this night. There was a moment where i noticed everything about myself. It was very trippy.

I'm looking for music. I tried Muse, but they're not really hooking me in. I'm sorta disappointed. If you know any good bands, please inform me.

This summer has been very good. There is a lot more human interaction then i'm used to. I feel like i'm changing into a different person. Recently, i looked in the mirror and noticed..... something. Its a slight shift, but it means the world.

I'm worried/resigned about school next year. I feel like my drama teacher is sucking the soul out of me, but i suppose thats just who i am v.s. who she is. I have to be ready to push through and preserver. I'm planning to produce my own little show every month. It may be a challenge, but i feel that if i do it, i'll be a thousand time more secure in my future.

And i wonder about people. You know, you never know yourself. Your image of yourself is marred by self doubt and worry. The people who truly know you, is everyone. They see you, not your diluted self image. But as well as they know you, they don't understand you. Only you understand yourself, because your you. And you struggle trying to understand people, and yourself. But it's very simple. Trust, that you are who you are, and that people do not hide who they are to you. That brings you to the closest you can get to understanding someone, and that allows everyone to understand you, as best they can.

P.S. I'm at artstrek from sun to sun, as such, i'll be writing little baby posts in my journal. They shall be plopped into one mass post on the sunday of my return. (or the monday, i don't quite know which one would be more symmetrical)

Friday, July 9, 2010

The Truth

Is not.
Because no one will admit to it.
Honesty is a tailor.
Suited to an individual.
People are just dams.
Holding back.
Changing what you say.
To what you think.
Making the glossy screen.
Seem to be paradise.
Listening, and telling.
At the same time.
But there is no recluse.
Because, to tell the truth.
To a computer.
Is the same as lying.
In person, With the wrong tone.
The urge to split.
Is beyond any other.
But buckling under the pressure.
is just that.
Breaking.
The soul and mind.
Are just a ship.
Without the push of the sea.
The bottom is the only end.

Hideous, Grotesque and Disgusting. I can only imagine them as beautiful concepts.

I DEEM THIS POST, POSTWORTHY. LOOK DOWN, AND READ.

Forgive Me, Luke, For I am your Father

I, Graham Phillips, stand trial for two grievous sins, that hurt my soul and my face.

First, I have not upheld a solemn oath, to post every day of summer, and for that, i am truly sorry. However, This problem is easily rectified. I'm posting now. That makes up for it. I win.

Second, I have look upon another performers work, and i have scorned it. These performers offer there art, in blessed innocents, wanting no more then the pure unfettered adoration of the audience. Looking upon this gift, this offering, this idea of beauty and love, I have spit on it. Not openly, I have some polite urges left within my stomach. But, none the less, I understand the shoes of critic, and what a pain it is to walk in them.

Now, i think this poetic confession counts as a post. Hmmm, if only there were some way to measure if something was post worthy. If only i had some sort of moderator, someone who understood the criteria of this blog, the point, if you will. Something like a creator, who, by knowing the original purpose behind the blog, could therefore validate the validity of a post. Someone like...... Oh, right, Me.

I DEEM THIS POST, POSTWORTHY. NOW GO ABOVE AND READ ON!!!!!

Wednesday, July 7, 2010

More Writing, THIS TIME WITH 50% MORE STRUCTURE

The man sat in the lounge, with a cigarette in his mouth. He was, what you would call an average man, short dark brown hair, slightly over weight, around forty. He was dressed like every other tourist, beige shorts, with a floral shit. His eyes stood out, not for there color, which was a light brown, but because they flickered nervously around the room. The room was simple, and unassuming, with three black leather chairs in a row, a counter facing them, and a door beside the counter. No tables with outdated magazines, no sickly potted plants, this room implied business and didn't disappoint. Across the counter, the secretary, a man, dressed in a suit and tie, despite the heat, worked studiously.
Breaking the silence, a phone rang shrilling in the room. With practised ease, the secretary answered in smooth spanish. The tone of his voice immediately turned from pleasant to hushed apprehension, as he glanced nervously at the man, sitting across the room. Hanging up, the secretary got up awkwardly, and gestured towards the door.
"Ms. Hovetais will see you now", he said in rough english, "last door on your right"
The man gave a brief smile to the secretary and quickly went through the plain wooden door. He found himself in a hallway with full-wall windows on his left. Outside, he could see rocky shores, and the brilliant blue ocean. Keeping a quick pace, he went to the end of the hallway, and knocked gently on the last door.
A cold voice answered "Come in, Mr. Stevens" in clean, unaccented english.
With a sharp twist of his wrist, Mr. Steven opened the door to a spartan office. The only defining feature was a large wooden desk and a chair that was before it. On the other side of the desk, Ms. Hovetais sat. Her striking red hair contrasted with her leather outfit. White walls, carpet, and roof, seemed to close in on Mr. Steven.
Crushing his smoke on the floor, Mr. Stevens sat, his eyes still flickering around the room. "Can you tell me why the hell I'm here?", he asked, his voice tight.
"Here?" she asked innocently, one eyebrow arched, "I thought you would have already figured that out". She stood from her chair, and the cold edge began to creep into her voice. "You have been sent to me because you can't seem to respect your countries wishes. Your nation wants you to remain silent, and you refuse to comply. After three tries, you get a more serious punishment" Smiling, she told him, "That would be my department"
Mr. Steven sighed nervously, and stared at her. "Look, the citizens of America have every right to know what there government does. I shouldn't be put on trial for telling the people-".
Putting on an innocent face, Ms. Hovetais chided him gently, "But, Mr. Stevens, this isn't a trial" Reaching under the desk, she pulled out a black pistol, and pointed it at his head. "This is a sentence" Without hesitation, she pulled the trigger, putting a round into Mr. Steven's head. Blood, bone and brain splattered the door behind him, as his body slumped in his chair.
Placing the gun on the desk, Ms. Hovetais reached into her pocket and pulled out a celled phone. With one click, she brought it to ear and said, "Problem solved, Mr. President. Mark Stevens was tragically killed in mugging during his vacation in Spain" Her voice dripping with sarcasm, she added, "A tragedy, I know"

Tuesday, July 6, 2010

An introduction to Mr. Shnuffle Pop

Mr. Shnuffle Pop is a being that lives in the sewers and collects information on people who don't want to be known about. He is very successful in business, and advertises on every u-pipe he can find. He doesn't keep records of costumer interaction, Mr. Shnuffle Pop prefers to handle each transaction as a clean slate. So, if one of your meetings with him doesn't go to plan, fear not.

Mr. Shnuffle Pop is around the size of a baseball. He has two antenna which end in orbs. He is covered in a close shaven fuzz, often coloured in dark greens. He has two terrible eyes and one oversized mouth. Mr. Shnuffle Pop has a pair of rather stubby legs, which he only uses for meetings between clients. When traversing the pipes, he uses bodily ocsilationary organs that propel him. This gives his skin a disturbing crawling feature. It is rumoured that he has a retractable pair of claws. This claim has only been brought forth once, by Ms. Winters, a witness of a Mr. Shnuffle Pop "incident". Apparently, slime covered arms no thicker then pipe cleaners, can extend from his side, with claws about the size of Mr. Shnuffle Pop himself. These claws are very sharp and very dangerous, as told by Ms. Winters.

To organize a meeting, all is required is $20, in change or bills, and a full understanding of the proceedings. Mr. Shnuffle Pop is a very patient being, and will allow for 5 infractions to be broke before he refuses the current business transaction. 10 infractions will cause him to terminate you. Unfortunately, Mr. Shnuffle Pop does not advertise the the proper proceedings, as he would consider this impolite. As such, all meetings do have a slight risk factor.

A person need only send the $20 down the drain, and between the hours of 1am-3am, Mr. Shnuffle Pop will crawl up from the drain in which the money was inserted. He will wait if you are not present, for a maximum of 30 seconds. If you do not arrive within those 30s, he will keep you money and leave. Once you are present, the timer begins. Mr. Shnuffle Pop organizes 5 min sessions. The first minute is for the discussion of pleasantries, and other subjects. After the first minutes, you may ask any question that is within his right to answer. At the end of the 5 minutes, Mr. Shnuffle Pop will leave without hesitation.

So, call Mr. Shnuffle Pop. Gather information that you never thought you needed. Mr. Shnuffle Pop will give you polite service at a rate no one can beat.

Monday, July 5, 2010

Broken pieces of my mind

If you don't exercise your right to think differently, then you never will.

Muse is just word. It's the idea that matters.

Brilliance isn't a thought. It's a natural reaction.

Who am I? It's a better question then, Who are you?

Beyond illness, is a place where the broken wander perfect, but forever flawed. Where tragedy is a state of being. Where beauty is non-exixtant, and pain is common place. Everything is horrific, thus stopping it from being. Everything is a pale shade of green, and nothing is clouded. The world is clear in it unhappiness. Hope doesn't exist, thus making it unnecessary. It is not hell because it is not punishment. It's merely sadness, and all it entails.

White is a canvass. It's nothing until acted upon and then it is what it is. Black is everything, while being nothing. It's an idea waiting to be thought.

Beauty is neither good, nor evil. It is pure devotional neutrality.

This is not a question, because it has no answer.

Sound is universal.

Odd. Crystals mean calm, despite any other persons opinion.

Sunday, July 4, 2010

Questionaire

1. Have you ever wanted to sleep in the middle of the day? Why?

2. Whens the last time you thought about purple? If just now, Why haven't you been?

3. True or False: I relate more to plants then a mannequin

4. What frightens you? Describe the reason.

5. If you had to choose between a rainy night, or a snowy dawn, which would you pick?

6. Look up. Describe what you see.

7. Are you flexible? Do you think you are?

8. How often do you change your printers ink?

9. Please describe your recovery method when you are ill with the common cold.

10. Whats you view on technology? good, evil, necessary?

11. What is your first thought when you hear the word, "Cellar"?

12. If you saw an apple with a bite taken out of it, what would your reaction be?

13. True or False: My hair is a point of concern every few days.

14. What is your most prominent physical habit? (ei. I crack the lowest knuckle on my left hand every 5-10 min.)

15. Have you ever felt the desire to break something? What, and why?

16. Your opinion on orange street lamps.

17. Your current opinion on this questionnaire.

18. Your reaction to that last question.

19. Use question 18 as the answer for, "Did that bunny harm you?". Did you find that humorous?

20. What do you think this quiz is evaluating?

Please answer in incomplete sentences. You will be graded according to a first come, first serve bases, crossed with an alphabetical cataloging. Best of luck, I intend to see you all again next year.

Saturday, July 3, 2010

Continuation

1234567890
2345678901
3456789012
4567890123
5678901234
6789012345
7890123456
8901234567
9012345678
0123456789

words are never ending
ordsw rea evern ndinge
rdswo ear verne dingen
dswor are ernev ingend
sword rea rneve ngendi
words ear never gendin
ordsw are evern ending

P.S. something that just happened.

I appear to have become too old for random, nonchalant, flirting. Every time i do something or say something that is totally over the top, and completely absurd, (in the flirting department), everyone feels the need to tell me that they have an existing relationship. Either people think thats the way i actually flirt, or i'm desperate enough to believe that might actually work.

Silly people.

Friday, July 2, 2010

Writing

Picture a dark night atop a hill. Nothing, but pitch black in every direction, the wind gently tugging at you. Now, see a light blossom in the distance. It's casts an orange glow, and you quickly gather it's a street light. While you were focusing on that single light, another sprung into existence near it. Soon, hundreds of light begin appearing, varying from an almost red-ish hue, to clean white florescent. Within minutes, you are standing on a lightless hill, surrounded by illumination. They shine so bright that they stain the sky, making the once mysterious night both safe and undesirable. The wind has picked up, and now pulls at you wildly. Picture now, that you are kite, flying over the hill. The wind above the hill is now like gravity to you. It's pull, although rough and buffering, is what sustains you. You are caught between two worlds, the sky and the earth. Before you can adjust to the wild wind, your string is cut. The dark hill that lay below you now twists and tumbles in your vision. The wind is leading out from under that patch of black, and into the ten thousand lights. You are out of control, veering into an orange nightmare.

Please now go to youtube or itunes, and listen to the song, 15 step by Radiohead. While listening, think of the veering kite over the glowing city.

I have always had this image in my head, about this song. Atop of nose hill, seeing all the city alight. I thought i'd share that with you, and try my hand at writing in the same instance.

Thank you.

DAMN!!!

I missed yesterday. Which makes me a fail. Thats why i'm writing this in the morning, so it almost counts as writing it yesterday. Also, to make up for the lack of post, today will be particularly non-sensical.

(lights up)

(The scene is a fast food restaurant. John is sitting in a corner, wit ha burger and a notepad, crying.)

(enter Sally)

S: What wrong?

J: I'm suppose to be writing a comedy

S: What?

J: But i'm crying so it won't work

S: Um, why are you crying?

J:Because of.... her.....

S: Oh, sweetie, are you having girl problems?

J: Oh, god yes. She said..... she said.....

S: Yes?

J: HAVE NICE TIME AT WENDYS!!!!! (breaks down in to hysterical sobbing)

S: ....... is wendy another girl?

J: No, it's here. The restaurant. Wendys.

S: why are you sad about that?

J: Well, it means.... you know, that.... and she....... I KNEW YOU WOULDN'T UNDERSTAND!!

S: Alright..... i was just trying to help....

J: LEAVE ME ALONE, WICHY WOMEN!!!!

S: Whatever...... Psycho.....

(Sally exits)

(John stares dejected into space, then realization shows on his face. He begins writing furiously.)


TADA!!!!!!

Any good? Sorta weird. Get over it, this is my blog.

On a side note, Life is really good. Isn't it really awesome when your slightly worried over something, and it turns out that the worry wasn't necessary, because the something turned out marvellously?

CYALL!!!! until later today.

Wednesday, June 30, 2010

Derp

It's been bugging me.

WHAT DOES THE WORD DERP MEAN?

It is life's greatest question. It is used frequently, to great comedic effect, and yet what is its meaning? The scarier thing is, that I actually know when to use it.

EXAMPLE

Friend: So, I just beat the last Level of halo...... on legendary.

Me: DERP DERP DERP (while clapping like a dolphin)

EXAMPLE 2

Sad Awkward Loner Friend: and thats how my mom died.......

*Silence*

Me: Derp

Less Awkward other Friend: Derp Derp Derp.

SEE? these may not be prime examples, but it gets the point across.

I figure Derp must have a secret nature, like how Super Man has Clark Kent, and Spider Man has Peter Parker. But that raises the even bigger question of, is derp, in its displayed usage (see above examples) the milder manner alter ego, or is it the cosmic word o' power?

Oh, how you infuriate me, Derp.

If you have yet to understand the power of Derp, I'm giving you homework. It's going to be step by step, so i won't lose anyone.

1. Find a mirror
2. Contort mouth
3. Contort eyebrows
4. Cross eyes.
5. Think of the funniest voice you can make
6. Say, "Derp"
7. If you have not laughed, do this in front of another person
8. If they haven't laughed, disregard this article. it's too awesome for you.

So ends Day two of summer.
I will continue my non-sensicality until it is at an amount worthy to display to the world.
Then i will smile.

Good Knight to all, and to all a King Arthur.

Tuesday, June 29, 2010

New Beginnings

So, here i am. It's been ages since i last posted, and i figured i might as well post some more. Actually, there is some grand design behind this simple little thought. (or figure if you prefer)

It is the first day of summer, officially, and i got the brilliant idea to post every day. *said by the screaming hoard of fan girls* "WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT GRAHAM?" Good question, fan girls. I had a slight revelation today. It was seeded at a party I attended a few days ago, and it came to light in the past few hours.

Nobody hates me. Well, not right off the bat, anyway.

Knowing that i won't be shot down at the first sign of brainular independence, it spurred me to think further on my rather interesting brain. It is filled with a lot of stuff, funny and not so, but the key thing is that it's a brain filled with unique stuff. Unique stuff should be shown to the world as to encourage younger generations, so that they may be filled with thoughts of uniqueness and therefor all be the same.

So, without further ado, I will post my interesting and insane comments, thoughts, and bubbles of cerebral cognition. I hope you enjoy.

Second revelation, (slighter then the first), blogs don't have to be about a person. DUUUUUUUDEEEE!!!!!!