here is the video that I worked two, very long months on. I drew everything my self. This is also my first movie/video in flash. Music by Sunrise Cassette.

My mom and little sister came up to visit us this weekend. We had alot of fun. I hope they come visit more often since it’s only a 3 hour drive….

Here is a video of melissa being ridiculously hilarious. enjoy

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3MrFCxkNaeg

I must be a pretty strong person for keeping it together as well as I do. It takes alot of control not to just lose it and hit the road. I think about it too often, but thinking about it just might be all I need to let out the pressure. I’m a good person, but I wish I wasn’t. I’m also very good at pretending. Its getting harder with age, but I can still do it. The only problem is when I can’t decide between what is real or  not. Then things start getting messy.

This summer has almost been the most depressing summers of my life.  I can think of a million reasons that have contributed to the depression. Most of the depression has been the wave of realization of what the world is and what I should expect from it. Part of all this is just growing up, I think. I keep finding myself unable to get out of the mind set that I grew up believing. Now, I have found out that everything I once believed was all  a lie. It seems that now that I am older, I am finding out the truth in everything and I don’t like it. I fight with myself on what I want to believe and what is the truth. I understand why Micheal Jackson was a fan of the story of Peter Pan. I have always loved Peter Pan and even from an early age, I saw the movie and knew what it meant. It’s not about being a kid or doing what you want and it’s not just about the adventures. The story has a deeper meaning. It’s about being innocent, unaware, and immune to the cruel world we grow up into.

I need to listen to the lyrics
of the songs that play in my head.
I need to clean out the closet
and stop piling everything up.
I want to get out my oil paints
and paint what I feel.
My body is the canvas
and my thoughts will guide my brush.
I like to think that the rain comes
when I hold back my own tears.
I like to think that nothing
can hurt me.
I like to think that I am winning the game
that everyone else is watching.
I am afraid that maybe I am
just like you.
Memories to me are like
treasures of the mind.
I like to make memories
and I try to make them
so I never will forget.
Sometimes things are better
when they are only memories.
I don’t choose the things I remember
but I wonder why I remember
the things that I do.
There are a few memories I try to forget.
I am trying hard to forget YOU.
But for some reason, I cannot.
Or maybe because deep down
I really don’t want to ever forget that.

Rainy Monday lyrics by shiny toy guns

I don’t mind
You’re someone that ain’t mine
But someone that I’ll get
And you don’t know how
Hard I’ve tried
To convince myself that I
Can easily forget

[B-section]
But you left this feeling
Here inside me
One that never fails to find me…

[Chorus]
On a rainy Monday
…a feeling inside me
Like the days of summer

On a rainy Monday
..I feel it inside me
In the hopes of one day

I won’t lie
I still can’t say that I
Admit we went too far
And you won’t see me change my mind
But I really wish that I
Could forget the way you are

[B-section 2]
But you left this feeling here inside me
The battle in my mind still fights me

I can see that you’re not beside me
But I still feel you shine inside of me

I drove past this building on Glenstone countless times. I think that it’s just asking for a really awesome prank. If I could repel, spraypaint, and get away with it then I would totally paint the cup to look like Master Shake. That would kick ass. I think I will just settle for a little photoshopin’

When I see you,
I know I need you.
when I think of you,
I hope to see you soon
when I hug you,
I can’t let you go.
when you’re not here,
I wish to be there.
When you look at me,
I hope you feel the same
When I look down
I hope you look at me.
When you say you love me,
I am speechless.
When I am speechless,
I want to say “I love you, too”.

by:Tracy Roberts

The lights, blue and red, flashed around through the darkness of a small, country town’s fields. A young man drove home alone from his cousin’s new home, only a few miles away from town. He glanced in his rearview mirror, to see a highway patrol car on his tail. His first instinct was to push the gas pedal and go faster. He hadn’t been speeding. He didn’t even know why he was being pulled over. Was he driving on the right side of the road? Surely he was, but how could he be sure? He was so nervous that he couldn’t remember the very moments before he saw the flashing lights turn on, so he figured maybe he had drifted off a little and his driving was affected. The dark road stretched far and it was very late. He remembered being warned to not let the rhythmic humming of the car put him to sleep.
Pulling to the shoulder, he fumbled with the lights on his white Ford Contour. automatically, his hand rose to his mouth in an attempt to bite his nails, but he caught himself. Chewing on his nails had been a hard habit to break since he was a kid. Unsure of really what to do, for he had never been pulled over before, the man turned off the car and glanced at his side mirror. The moments seemed to drag on as he waited for the patrol man to depart from his car. The young man reached for the glove box and retrieved the papers he needed. When the officer finally arrived at his side, he turned the key two clicks forward, while wanting to turn it one more time and speed away from the scene, and rolled down the electric window. The officer was handed the man’s license and registration. The man’s shifty eyes caught the officer’s attention. When the officer started shining his mag-light into the car windows, the man’s throat began to tighten. He combed his blond hair through just out of habit, even though his hair was fairly short. The man was aware that he was very nervous and his breathing was coming in short, uneasy and quiet gasps, causing him to feel dizzy. His legs began to shake. The man felt shivers run up his spine and as the officer went back to his car to check out the information, the man’s teeth began to chatter. He told himself to keep cool and to relax, but his muscles tensed even more. A chilly wind blew through the window. Why was he so nervous? he began to think back to what happened to him today.
The first memory was waking up in the morning after staying up late and doing homework with some of his college buddies. He had met them in his psychology class. They were a crazy group. He was always a well mannered and shy boy, but these guys really brought out a different side in him. He started to get into drugs and alcohol with them. They accepted him and this feeling was very important to him.
He remembered eating breakfast and finding some aspirin for his killer headache. Once the day got started, his headache would subside. These headaches came and went. They only started recently, but he never had them checked out. Later, his cousin called him. She had recently moved from California to a new home outside of his town. He discussed when and where they would meet up to hang out and see her at her new house.
The patrol man tapped on the glass of his window, which he had rolled up. The cold, fall air was making his trembles worse. The tips of his shoes where so cold they were numb and his fingers were stinging as he gripped the wheel tightly. He hesitated before pressing the button to roll the window down, again. The cop shined the light in his eyes, waking the man from somewhat of a daze. The officer asked what the man was doing out there, away from home so late. The man explained how his cousin had moved from California and he had met up with her and helped her unpack a few things.
The officer stared blankely at the man. The man told his story without doubt, but as the officer stood and stared at him, he began to wonder if that really was what he had been doing. He couldn’t remember when he actually arrived at her home. He couldn’t even remember what her home looked like. If this is what he had been doing, then why couldn’t he remember anything? He remembered how to drive home, but where was he coming from?
The cop started searching the backseat with his eyes, while asking the man if there was anything in the car that the man should tell him about. The man started to get really confused. He was feeling sick to his stomach, probably because of how he had been sub consciously squeezing his stomach muscles. He felt a stinging sensation across his forehead and down the front of his ears. He was lost with words. He couldn’t stop searching the blank memories in his mind. He was starting to feel crazy. He wasn’t sure of anything anymore. His own name slipped his tongue.
There were more lights flashing now, and the man felt a sudden rush of adrenaline pump through his body, willing him to jump up and run for a very long time. Emotions streamed through him, throwing his mind off course.He felt extreme sadness, and then hate, then the sickness came and went. He almost vomited but held on to whatever may be in his stomach, for he couldn’t remember eating anything after breakfast.
What happened next, happened so quickly that the man didn’t see it coming. The cop coaxed him from his car, a ghost among the darkness of the field beside it and in the flash and reflection of the highway patrol cars, they stood.
In such a moment, the man heard his rights read to him. It was much like rehearsed poetry of a television show. It was so unreal, that the man smiled as if he was only watching someone else. He looked up to the sky and watched as the stars shone and then moved in circles all above him. The stars reminded him of the fourth of July and the fireworks exploding in color and great emotion. And then he remembered his day.
The police cuffed the man and walked him to the first patrol car. They opened the door and he willingly ducked into the backseat in a trance.
He remembered driving down the bright country roads. The leaves falling around him and the car rustling them up as he drove to his cousin’s home. The directions were written on a gum wrapper easily before he left. He drove up the grace driveway, dodging a large pothole. The house was fairly new and two stories tall. He parked his car behind his cousin’s bright, green, mustang. The man knocked on the door and found it open as it creaked and moved forward. It was something to be forgotten and almost was.
It was like some kind of freak accident. There were boxes everywhere. The kitchen was dark, but the body was recognizable. Her hair was hanging over her head, which slumped to the side over her body. It appeared as though she had been murdered. There was a knife stabbed cleanly into her chest. The man looked around to find a clue or even to see if this murderer was still in the home. His heart began to race and fear took over every thought that came to his mind. He left the house, running to his car and hitting the pothole on his way out. There was a scraping sound to the bottom of the car. Glancing back in his rearview mirror was the last picture of his tire track molded into the pothole.

I have recently fallen in love with this song. It will definitely make my list of songs for singing in the shower.