unique?

So because of the worldwide rule that after 12:00 midnight, the day changes, it looks like i'm posting twice for today, but thats bologna.

i don't quite grasp the concept of individuality yet, being as though it has become extinct nowadays. it's more of a history project now, than a way of life. even though i may leave the house with not one item of clothing matching another, there most likely is someone wearing the exact same outfit as me, because nobody has the ability to think for themselves anymore. not even just reguarding style, but ideas too. it's impossible for anyone to copyright anything anymore because everyone steals it before the ink on the page has a chance to dry. and it's those warm sheets of paper, fresh from the printer, that are the only specs of light in this foggy, plagiaristic world. because for even that fraction of a second that a sentance remains unread, it has a purpose, a history, and the ability to enduce change. and then it's duplicated, and becomes less important. then its twisted, and the meaning makes no sence. so all of you aspiring writers, please don't feel disrespected, or attacked when you find your thesis on the side of a bus tomorrow, followed by a picture of a half naked woman which in no way relates to your idea on how the world became the way it is. it's mearly a perfume ad now. i guess we all need to just get over it now. but when i do find that one special peice of writing that makes me stop and think, because i have never heard it before, i will be sure to hide that book in the sci-fi section. right next to the alien vs. preditor xbox game guide, because let's be honest, the person looking for that book, will breeze right by your's. and your idea will stay warm, and untouched. And that, my friends, is a promise.

the science of sam.

There are days where I question why i'm even here. And then I see you and know why. I dont know if it's quite normal for me to be feeling the way i do just yet. (um...by the way, ive decided that uppercase "I" is too much work for me. deal with the dotted one, people) Then again my body is legitamately being pumped with hormones like an over inflated balloon.* So either i AM dealing with things beyond my maturity level, or its just scientific. i'm hoping its love. Cause i'm not into sci-fi. Let's keep with romantic comedies por favor. In light of my new found outlook on hormones and them screwing with me, i looked at some colleges today. As soon as the initial excitement subsided, the nagging, overbearing, aggrevating old woman sitting on my shoulder reminded me "oh shit, you actually have to grow up eventually, and this free meal ticket has an expiration date." Ok, i'm NOT even going to continue talking about it. i'm getting all worked up just thinking about it. DIVERSION: Charlene Derer* who will one day be famous and STILL love me, is one of my nearest and dearest (judge my rhyming, i dare you) friends. I believe our record phone call is up to 3 hours now, and let's just say that these calls should qualify her for an M.D. in phsycology. Even though she's a bit older...a bit...im just a shorter version of her. pretty much. OK A VERY SHORT VERSION. Excuse me for being vertically challenged. Truth of the matter is that even though i go through random periods of time where i dont stop and chat, i'll always know shes there for me, as i am for her...even though i should grow a bit before i'm taken seriously. NO, REALLY, IT'S OK, I'M OVER IT! Char totally just wanted to be on my blog. But when she IS famous, which she will be, everyone will know how kickass i am cause i'm friends with her, cause i still will be when she has her very own "people". Char, u could be like Oprah! Only, u have to wait until u can afford to buy some schools in third world countries. Starbucks soon. Kidnap me. Anyway, back to my initial thought before i was so necessarily diverted, if i'm not supposed to understand the way i feel by now...maybe i shouldnt be feeling this way. any input?

In your arms I want nothing,
No one, nowhere, no reason.
In spite of all the hatrid,
I Love You.