But They Had a Bad Day!

"I don't know the key to success, but the key to failure is trying to please everybody." - Bill Cosby

---

Often, when a person is rude for no apparent reason, the reason ends up being that the person had a bad day, or something of sorts. That may float certain boats, but I think it's a poppycock excuse for poor social conduct. If I were an adult and had a no-show day for a corporate job, would my boss take "I had a bad day" for an excuse? If I have to go to a funeral, that is one thing; but simply not feeling like being decent enough to show up to work or to be sincere to peers is a crappy reason if I ever heard one. What if Barack Obama did not show up for a war council (or whatever) because he mentally didn't feel like it? Precisely!

Part of this, I think, is what many people seem to feel: the need to be dramatic. I'm rather certain a lot of people do it because they can, expecting me to shrug it off and say, "Oh, it's OK." I may be a bit of a bottler, but I would agree that if feelings come out, they must do so in a nonexplosive manner. Channeling is the best way, and whoever accuses the output of appropriate channeling of being "dark" or what-have-you ought to be ignored, because people like that will always exist.

Anyhow, I need my tea. I might come on later....

--- Lewis

I Love You

My good friend Olivia had a post about different kinds of love, infatuation, and so forth, and how the general public can't seem to distinguish them. (I'm blogging this because the website won't let me comment on anyone else's blog - "Sign In" keeps taking me to the dashboard and it signs me back out when I go back to another blog - grr! So, Olivia, feel free to correct me if I misquote or anything.)

I wholeheartedly concur with the idea of the post, as it were. In my own circles, such as Printz and my writing group, I can freely say to a fellow member that I love him or her, because I do. It doesn't mean anything of the romantic sort; they are amazing people who are not only incredibly talented at writing, art, music, acting, and so on, but in addition to that, they are all kindhearted people in my opinion, and that's what earns them my greater wells of friendly love. Now when I go to school, there are also good people (whom I also friend-love intensely) and the other people. The others are average-to-low intelligence conformists who couldn't think for themselves if I paid them to do it. I'm sorry, but it's true. Still, I love every last living thing to some degree, hate none (that's an evil emotion), and if I mention my standard love to any male member, he assumes I am gay. Now, I see gays, lesbians, bisexuals, and so on as people just the same. I love them just as much, but I personally happen to eb straight. I don't need romance to survive; I'm single and happy. But I am attracted only to females. Still, that by no means prevents me from being equally friend-affectionate to boys and men. There are certain fellows at my school who are not afraid to hug me, and I commend them.

But I may be digressing.

My point is, people seem to think that love is primarily romantic, as well as the only stage of feelings between intimate partners. I love my friends, but I am not in love with any of them. And (sorry Olivia, I sort of found a tangent) I recently heard a request call to a radio station by a woman who confessed her [feelings] to a man and he just wanted to be friends. The woman made it clear that her heart was broken., and needed a song to soothe her hurt.

I find that my heart is strong (my loving mind, actually, but for some reason people place feelings metaphorically into one's cardial muscle). At the end of eighth grade I had it broken when I confessed my feelings to a girl (who already said she loved me in one way or another a couple of years prior to this) who freaked out and spread rumors that I was a stalker. She probably wanted attention; she's also said to be a strumpet in the literal sense. That hurt me, but I healed and built new cardiac barriers so I'll be more careful in falling for infatuation, and to not put it on myself if a lady turns out to be a monster like that one. By the way, she's really nice in person, but not so much on Facebook. Says something about the harlot's backbone, does it not? That is to say, mentality of cowardice; backbone is no more thinking than heart.

I don't need romantic love, but I don't deny it if it appears. To be honest, I currently don't have any special feelings for anyone. If a female agrees to remain friends, however, and there is no awkwardness, I'm fine with that. That is how it should be handled. It just doesn't happen often enough.

So to Olivia, Ezra, Hannah, Emily, or whomever else from my circles may be reading this: Congrats, you've been awesome at being my allies. I love you people. That is to say, I have a massive store of respect and admiration for your talents and personalities as well as you yourselves.

Some sort of love for whoever reads this,

- Lewis

What are you going to do? I'm gonna do the best I can!

For those of you not aware, the above title is a quote between Santa Claus and Oogie Boogie from Tim Burton's The Nightmare Before Christmas - very clever movie. But the post itself is relating to the musical I am currently in. School House Rock Live! is actually rather a dull play, and my friend Ezra (who is more learned than I in the ways of the script) says the script is not very good. I'll have to take his word there. The conflict is not altogether fascinating, just a teacher who doesn't think he/she is prepared to educate - but it's what we have. Would I prefer to be in Dracula? Hell yes! But I cannot change that bit (although I can be in a different Dracula play sometime, I hope), so I will have to make do with what I have. Many of the kids here, particularly some of the younger ones, don't take acting seriously. They legitimately concern me. But this is my first non-school production and sort of a practice run for me. It can be compared to a rough draft in writing, or to a napkin on which to clean up. I'd prefer to make my inevitable mistakes here than to make them in a great work of art.

I consider myself an optimist, and if one does not agree with that statement, one ought to chew on this thought: I say an optimist does not pretend things are better than they are, but acknowledges the pain in the world and makes the best out of it. Otherwise to be a positive person, one would by definition be stupid and ignorant. And I prefer not to be either of those, although there is some debate as to whether ignorance is truly bliss; Olivia had a good post about that a while back.

As they say, when life gives you lemons, you make lemonade. Of course there's the question of sugar and water, but I have to leave soon for a SHRL! rehearsal. Good-day.

Wishing the best to most,

Lewis

The Writer vs. The Writing

"The worst tragedy for a poet is to be admired through being misunderstood." - Jean Cocteau

   You have clipped my wings

   And now I cannot fly.

   I am a lonely bird

   Imprisoned in this cage.

- "Clipped Wings" by me. I didn't think the poem was long enough for its own post, so I thought I'd include it here. Of course, it's also on Figment.

My Creative Writing teacher from this past school year made a post a while back (which I just discovered) about how a girl's parents were worried about her mental well-being due to her dark poetry and bloody stories. Mr. Nantz's reaction is equal to mine: while there is such a thing as artistic expression, what comes up on paper - or screen - by no means necessarily reflects the writer. I mean, has Thomas Harris been arrested for cannibalism? People often wonder if Stephen King is disturbed and/or insane. I even had a therapeutic instructor once who told me not to write dark things. I didn't listen, of course. She also said that she appreciates King from a distance; she would not go to his signing for fear of his slashing her throat. With all due respect to Miss Anonymous, that's codswallop. This is someone whom also believes that gays choose their sexuality and that it is wrong. I guess if she chooses to appreciate me, it will be from a distance.

Anyhow, I think it's good to be able to seamlessly blend expression with fictive feelings. After all, fiction is called fiction for a reason, and poetry can reflect fictional viewpoints. Mr. King is one of my all-time favorite writers, right up there with Jo Rowling and Mary Shelley, and I have no issue with him as a human being. I know that he once had a drinking problem, but that's not my business. That's one cost of fame: the whole world monitors your affairs.

Be yourself!

Signed,

Daniel Cole Phelan

Lewis Mason Winter

Charles Evan Blackwood