On Syrma

Syrma
(n.)
A long dress, trailing on the floor, worn by tragic actors in Greek and Roman theaters.

A name chosen to reflect the human attraction to tragedy, how we as human beings take delight in reading or hearing or seeing of the misfortunes of other people. No calamity can ever be so catastrophic as those revolving around ourselves, but in discovering them, we can take solace in the fact that they have not happened to us. We do not enjoy them because we enjoy suffering, no. We are just thankful that we are not the characters in that play, the bits in the horror story, the victims in the car crash. We drag along behind such tragedies, staying as close as we possibly can, immersing ourselves as much as possible, without actually becoming involved. The dangerous proximity just adds to the thrill, we say. That could happen to us, we say. We hope it does not, we pray. Is that the truth?

A moniker selected to push through the facade of everyday tragedy, acted out as convincingly as possible, to garner the largest audience we can. Human beings constantly thirst for an audience, attention, and so may, every once in a blue moon (we say), exaggerate a recount of what was surely just as terrible and emotional as our words make it seem. No catastrophe could ever be so calamitous as what happened to me!, we think, and in this thought, we allow others to comfort themselves in our supposed misery. All we wanted was some comfort, some proof that though cosmic forces may spit on our shadows, human beings still care for our well-being. It is not as though we are really acting, really pretending to bear suffering, we say.



A pseudonym
picked at random
because I liked how it sounded.

The end.

A Day in the Life of a Teenager

First you're like -_-

then you're like -_o

then you're like x_x

then you're like -_-

then you're like -_- again

then you're like -_- some more

then you're like o_o finally

then you're like >_>

then you're like ,_,

then you're like ¬_¬

then you're like -_-

then you're like o_-

then you're like ~_~

then you're like @_@

then you're like ¬_¬

then you're like o_o

then you're like $_$

then you're like ^_^

then you're like O_O

then you're like x_x

then you're like ;_;

then you're like v_v

then you're like ._.

then you're like ._.

then you're like ¬_¬

then you're like ._.

then you're like -_-

then you're like -_o

then you're like -_-.

A Letter to Nobody

Dear Nobody(s),

It has (not) recently come to my attention that I have lost touch with something. Be it myself or myself, I cannot honestly say, but minimally growing effort is expending itself to the rectification of this problem.

What is going on in here? What has happened whilst I was meaninglessly departed?

I'm walking around for the first time in months. Is anyone still here? I was away before...and alone.

How was I, in the absence? Wonderful. Horrible. Responsibility has reared its ugly head, for realsies this time, and I can't shake it off any longer. To say I've been busy is a bit of an understatement, but I'm here now, at the tender time of 3:51 AM, on a Saturday morning. I'm actually supposed to be waking up in six hours or so to do some volunteer work at school. Did I ever mention that? Despite my misgivings about the Hypocritical honor 'club' at my high school (which Mel happens to be a VP of), volunteering is actually pretty fun. Not really in the so-called 'discovering new parts of myself and growing as a person and having the self-satisfaction of helping others' vein of fun, but just because it's enjoyable to do things with friends. Isn't that funny? Whether it be bowling a worse game than the president, or cleaning up hundreds of cigarette stubs in the streets, or playing Halo off the school network, or sitting like idiots in the blood donation clinic half an hour after closing time, it's still fun. Inner discovery my ass, that's just common sense. That does remind me though; my blood type is O-. I'm a hero o: There have also been school, with my grades and standardized testing and advanced placement hoohaa. That pretty much explains itself though. Serious business.

This place is different now. The lights have dimmed, the chair now uncomfortably stiff. The books are now covered with a not-so-thin layer of dust, and the fire but dead ash in the dark. The young birds once nested in the window have now long since flown away. The pen lays quietly, forlorn but not forgotten. The pile of things to do piles ever higher, but the ink has dried.

Truly,
Will

12

Observe


That is the ruler of the world. You cannot escape.


Change its form. It matters not. You can't escape...


...from the rulers of the world.

Philosophies

Some say:

"Early to bed and early to rise makes a man smart, healthy, and wise."

Others say:

"Early to bed and early to rise makes a man weak and blind in the eyes."


Personally, I think the second hits it spot on.

In The Gloomy Darkness

As I lay here in the gloomy darkness, I wonder...

Why is the night sky yellow?

Roses

They're waiting.

Why aren't you smelling them?

Dance

Dance

under the stars in the sky

with the full moon at your back

feeling the fire in your soul

on through the night.

Just dance.

The greatest risk...

...is not taking one.

A Comparison from Twit

Confidence

It's like gas. Too much, and nobody likes you. But you'll always need some to get where you're going.