`` LEAD ME . t o . { the truth && i will follow you with my whole ; L - I - F - E . ``

Mumford and Sons - "White Blank Page" 

You stare out before you.

The waters are cold, cruel. They lap over your exposed feet, taking advantage of your warm blood, your remarkable nervous system, and your apparent, distracted state.

They quickly recede to their reinforcements before you can even react - before you can lash out to stamp at them and send them sprinkling about. You are forced to retreat as well, though they do not seem to understand your apparent disinterest.

Foaming and swiveling, the waves spray, presenting their selves as nothing more than rolling water. Delicate crashes, cushioning claps - it all seems so very enticing. It all seems so very inviting.

The sand is beneath your feet.

You look down and find your foot print where you once stood. In the grooved grains, you found where you could have found solid-footing, didn't feel as it all came out from underneath you to flee with those receding waters.

The chills at your ankles made you want to either dry yourself off or to submerge them in the water. They'd adapt the temperature, you quickly rationalize. With haste, you take a step forth, over your fading footsteps, and feel as the waters return. This time, carrying the grains you once sought as solid footing upon the banks. The open space before you, solely blanketed of the waters which swirl around your ankles. You look to find your feet, only to see their hazing shapes conform with the layers of sand which pile atop.

You sink slightly, but use your will with ease to regain your footing.

"I came here to go into the ocean," you tell yourself.

You wade a bit further.

This time, water is up to your waist. Merely something you can control and moderate upon your choice of going deeper or returning to the drier sand grains.

Through the bubbles of resurfacing air that the water has captured and released, unaware to you, you find there are a litter of shells, smooth and powdery-looking all around your feet.

The wet sand feels nice.

You step upon a shell, feeling its jagged edges bring your soles discomfort.

"It is only a shell. No blood. It's part of the ocean."

Another reassurance to bring yourself to fun.

Fun is when the larger majority of your body is submerged in the water. When it dances towards you in its fin-like curtail and collapses as it approaches you. You find that, due to your natural buoyancy, you sway right over it if you kick your legs and wave your arms with enough force.

Turning back to the shore, you keep your legs working to find that the sand is no longer beneath you. The shore is further than an arm's length away, that's for sure.

You're not so sure about being so far from the shore.

Especially when the sun has finally gone down after your entire day in the water. Your body is getting cold.

"Time to go," calls a familiar voice.

A wave comes up from behind you and dances under you, catching you off-guard like that one from earlier in the day had. It had only tucked your head under for a moment or two, though you sputtered and wrenched your fists clean of the salt water to wipe at your eyes.

Deep breaths.

"Okay," you tell yourself, turning your body to look at the endless horizon. "Time to go."

Your head is drenched, as is the rest of your body. Eyes red, nose searing, jaws chattering - it is about time to go, very well then.

You start back for the shore, the lavender, cotton-filled skies overhead calmly settling in for the duration of your stay, in your stead. With each sweep of your arm, each heave of your lungs, the water is displaced behind you, though there is still much, more to wade through. It doesn't truly go anyplace as quickly as it merely moves around you. As you would move through it.

A simple notion, truly.

Your muscles begin to fatigue. After having made it your way close enough to the shore, you take another look out to the horizon, feeling the sand your feet just touched down upon dissipate beneath you.

Another look back to the shore, and it turns out that it was much farther than when you had first looked at it.

The waves lap at you frequently, the ominous darkness of space beneath and all around you creeping into your bones. It's unsettling, truthfully - "The Great, Deep Blue" as it is called to hold such unknowns. Unknowns that could very well swallow you whole.

Your breath grows sharp.

There is a boat of sorts that dances between you and the horizon. It is closer than either the horizon or the shore, but even as you keep your gaze on it while trying to fight to keep your tired head above the surface, it hums farther off from you.

You gather a breath in your lungs, though they burn with the intensity. Your body trembles from the chill seeping into your bones.

Any longer and you'll catch a cold.

With as much effort you care to muster, the arduous trek to get back to shore seems a bit more exhausting than it needs to be. There's a distant, piercing alarm that spans for the duration of a man's entire breath. Resembling a bird as it calls out in danger, the tone hovers over the sloshing of the waters, every creaking of your bone echoing into your ears.

You dunk your head under the water. A revitalizing shock to the system is just what you need.

The bubbles blur your vision, though you shut your eyes just as quickly as you had opened them.

After wiping at them and pedaling forth with your legs, you find the grains of sand on your fist. A hindrance of safely clearing your vision, you dunk your face down again, continuing forth.

No clue if you're steering off course - but what does it matter? Each way you go, the shore stretches along and beyond.

Finally, you set your feet on the rising bank, toes scratching at the slope. You teeter out, tired beyond recompense and soaked and shivering.

You return to your heap of belongings, where everyone else was waiting for you.

You turn to look at the horizon, the sun finally setting, and find that the sight is worth it out on your own two feet than it was out in the water, out under the water, and before you had even gone into the water.

The sight was the best after you had returned from the water.


<3 ~ Monty.
=]

FEAR THE CUTENESS ;

Cute Roulette

Just enjoy it.

=]

`` Phlebotomy Potpourri ``

Bahaha. The intricate matters of my life, eh?

Currently, this is what's going on;

Well, that was very entertaining. 8D
Now I see why everyone loves ms paint sillyness. Hahah.

My laptop's broken. It's been broken for a year and a half, now.

But, actually.

Hahah. The fan was just screaming at me after its perpetual month-long silence. Of course, not too much I can do, since it's broken and all. Take it in, maybe? Maybe not. Don't feel like it. Nor do I have the money.

BUT I'LL GET A NEW ONE! Hahaha.

Onto number two [ top-right panel ].

My mom's school is this medical, vacational vocational university.

I've been "interning" / "working" there and all. And I've mentioned it a few times in this here blog. Well, seeing as how it's practically mine, I've got to tend to it and all. My mom's best attempt at getting me into the medical field are these:

[ No, I'm not drawing another MS Paint Sillyness. ]

. . .

Okay, maybe I am.

So, at first, I was really lazy and didn't color it. But then I realized that it it looked really weird without my hair, shirt, and tie. 

So, yeah. A Pharmacy Technician Class [ I got too lazy to fill out the rest of the "Technician" ], and an entrusting tie that reads "Boss" with Spongebob's face on it.

No, she didn't actually give me a tie, but it's basically the same thing.

The course is, like, eight weeks, and it's pretty much a guarantee for a pretty good outlet of a job. On campus, I'm sure people will be in need of meds and stuff, but if they've employed specialists for that, even better. I'll find a job somewhere else in the town. And, of course, having the certification helps even when I'm out of college and ready to get out into acting.

Because, you know, actors need medicine too.

All of them are crazy.

And the boss tie.

If you can read on my tie, it reads "D. Shmellow", the name Goldie gave me when she made me a while ago.

That sounds so weird. Just. Here.

This. Remember it?
I remember she added an egg for Easter.
Good times. =]

So, yeah. My paint skills aren't nearly as good as hers, obviously, but you'll have to make due.

Anyway, the tie is a metaphor for the responsibility of the school. Like, when she retires, it's all on me.

I said that before, but, y'know, it's kind of a big deal, whether I like it or not.

So, we're gonna start small. With this PT class, I can go into college, get myself through with the smaller expenses while she hammers out the remainder of the tuition [ hopefully my FASFA crap gets sorted out ].

THEY'RE SMILING LIKE IT'S EASY.
IT'S NEVER THAT EASY.
KAUDHFFJIAHANJ

...

Yeah.

And, with me out of college, I can teach her classes and help her while being a board member or something like that. And then I'll boot her out so she can fly to Jamaica and I get stuck dealing with what she left behind.

Love you, Mom.
8D

Anyway. Next would be Pandora Radio.

If you haven't noticed that there hasn't been mention of a song yet, well, thanks. Means that you pay attention to these things a lot, eh? Thanks. Yeah, no. Just sit there and think about what you were just about to tell yourself.

"Oh, I do pay attention!"

What was the song in the last one?

No. Don't cheat. Don't go and open another tab or scroll down. No-- You did it anyway, didn't you?

I hate you.
= - =


I don't mean it.
=]
<3


So, yeah. Pandora's my new best friend.

Yeah.... I didn't know how to break it to you.
Even though I say it, like, every time I talk to you. Hahahah.
And you don't seem to care. So. Thanks. </3

Anywho. Pandora's amazing.

Music Genome Project.

They said something about it, and I found it a bit interesting, but I'm on a MS Paint Binge right now. Hahah.

. . .
Yeah. Maybe I should stop.
. . .

Not in the slightest.
. . .
Where was I going with this?

So, yeah. Pandora's fantastic. If you haven't already, go run and check it out. You won't find any need for, like, anything else in your life ever.

. . .
I have way too much time on my hands. Bahahah.

NEXT.

My life.

Okay, I'm done drawing pictures.....

Yet I still have Paint open. Haha.

-closes-

So. Yeah.

It's been, like, crazy as of late. And I don't even have school anymore. Well, like, High School-school. Yano? Whatever. Just going through all of my "feels", as my friend Stephanie calls them.

Okay.
NOW.
I'm done.
I swear.

So, yeah. My little brother's graduating from the Fourth Grade of my Elementary School tomorrow. =D
He asked if he could wear my grad cap.
I told him to get a life.
8"D How sweet.

[ That would have been a perfect MS Paint moment, right there. ]

But, no. I actually pondered it. And I was like, "Ehh, #yolo."

And then an awkward silence befell the car.

I continued to drive happily. I disliked it when people talked. = - =;; Especially people who were people.

No, I'm kidding.

. . .
>___________>

He's reading this now.
Very... interesting. Anyway.

Where was I?

Oh. Yeah. Life.

It's just, yeah. Really weird. A lot of things have been going wrong left and right. My mom's office is in shambles, struggling to stay afloat and all the niceness. But we're our own pillars, as much as I may disdain the idea, because we were the foundations from which it was constructed. We're not bettering just our own selves, but impairing our financial statuses to help the world.

How noble.

But, something interesting came from our lovely receptionist, whose daughter is also graduating tomorrow, from the Fifth Grade.

"You know what I've been told? It always gets worse before it gets better."

- Lubby, the lovely receptionist.

That woman's awesome. Probably one of my favorite receptionists yet, and my mom seems really fond of her, so she may be a keeper~!

But, yeah. With my mom disheveled, having to deal with it all on her own and such, she's been lashing out at everyone and everything. She has to realize that it's not really that healthy, especially in her state of incessant insanity - I swear the lady's got too many loose gears. But she's doing what's best for her business, and what's best for us.

As much as I may dislike what she tells me and expects me to do [ which are, at many times, completely different things ( the confusion of parents as a constant experience in our lives ) ] I couldn't stay upset with her while she taught our class of two people.

Fuh. This woman. Absolutely infuriating.

Regardless, she's my mom.

And just like she's come from walking barefooted and biting open soda bottles from her youth, I'll become a prosperous professional in all of my fields, as she has.

Not a Jack of all Trades, but a Master. Just a Master. Hahah.

I'm willing it.

She always says, "speak it into existence," so that's what I'm doing here.

Oh my God, Pandora, you are fantastic.

Be nice to your mothers. Hope you all had a nice Father's Day - for those who couldn't celebrate with their fathers, my blessings go out to you. Just consider those who haven't had the opportunity to experience many of the things with their fathers, and if you're one of them, then you're not alone. By no means do I aim to belittle anyone's filial complications, but I intend to prod you into turning to glance in the rear view mirror.

Look at where you've been, what you've been through.

It's all been worth it, every single second.

But who's got you through it?

Each meal, each nicely coordinated outfit you slip on in the morning or night?

Be sure to thank them whenever you've the time.

And smile.

I'll try myself. That's how you know I'm serious. Hahah.

YAYAYAYAYYA
<3
[ it was a special occasion. don't you hold me to my word! D< ]

My New Best Friend. Listen to him.

<3 ~ Monty.
=]

can you feel { can you feel [ CAN YOU FEEL ~ ?

♫ One Republic - Made For You ♪

`` Can you feel all the love, like it was made for you ? ``

Who knew apparel could make such amazing connections?

It was black with white print.

Well, you know, I want one of those shirts that say "Free Hugs", or something nice like that. I just want to run around with apparel that sports the sincerity of my essence [ or what I'd like to consider as such: ] compassion. But, until I can, I sport the wristbands of my cause.

[ The dog's Franklin, my dog. <3 ]
Most incorporate financial support upon purchase for what I can't directly effect and benefit - though, there is one in particular that is a non-profit organization wherein wearing it does nothing but spread the word.

The image at the top of this blog, with that book - "No One Belongs Here More Than You: Stories by  Miranda July" [ I never checked out what it was about, though when I Google'd it, I found this link; I'll give it to you at the end with a favored means of therapy from a friend of mine ] - links to this mentioned, non-profit organization.

You Are Loved
And so does that~

I have the pleasure of saying that I am friends with the founder of that organization. If you click it and read through, you may feel obliged to disregard what is said there. But, surprisingly enough, if you sit there and actually follow her instructions, it can change your life. Just how I aim to change your perspective here, she aims to mend your life there.

I hung out with her and a batch of our good friends on Sunday at the beach. One of our friend's friends tagged along, introduced as Erica Lynn [ shout out to the new baby of our group~! <3 ] and she became part of our family easily. We went to the seaside - and, as a Scorpio, she declared that she won the scuffle over dubbing our location a universal "seaside", as opposed to the inquisition of the specific location of "Seaside [ Heights ]". But, I digress, for that is not the point [ even though everyone agreed with her and I was left to sulk in her perpetually, infallible ways. ] Sunday, we went on our ventures, had a blast.

Being good friends and spending quality time with one another usually does that.

By the end of the night, we had gone through our ups and downs and had easily become closer than any of us would have anticipated. We were weary, tired and spent, having been on our feet all day. As par standard, people stand by their shops, attracting attention to what they're selling.

One woman in particular was wearing that shirt above - it was black with white print that read "Google Me". When Solomon was appeased with the offer of a sample of ice cream, alongside Tori and Erica, Nicole and I having our sporadic heart-to-heart and Matthew over fetching a coffee, we were carted over to speak with the lady. She invited us to get one, and so Solomon did. He had some kind of green [ pistachio or mint, most likely ] with sweetened milk. It sounded nice, but I declined his offer - wasn't much in the mood for any ice cream.

She then offered us a water for seventy-five cents.

Wanna know where this place is?

Well, if I remembered, I'd be able to tell you. Whatever the case, I'm sure they won't be going out of business anytime soon, so no worries.

Right, so, while we had our ice cream and water, Nicole - being the social butterfly she is - challenged the lady's shirt.

"If I Google you, what will pop up?"

I, honestly, wasn't too enthralled with the notion of another adventure with another individual for another length of time. I was ready to curl up in Matt's car with peeps and snooze for the rest of the ride back home.

Interestingly enough, the woman responded.

"Let's find out. My name's Shelly Gates."

Go ahead and Google her. Now keep that tab open.

The first thing Nicole went to was the LinkedIn site. Unfortunately, that wasn't where her information could be found.

"You should Google me, too," Nicole casually suggested. "The first thing you'll find about me is my organization."

Yep. She's the one with the non-profit organization. That is, of course, if you didn't know about it already.

"It's the Facebook link right?" [ Nicole  ]

"Yep." [ Shelly ]

And so we inspected her Facebook details. She is apparently a promoter for some famous record labels and, by Google-ing her, we made a spectacle of what Nicole's all about. It was an outlet, and Nicole wasted no time in making the connection that she does with everyone. Not only for her life's work, but because the woman, Ms. Gates, shared her vision.

The one line I recall distinctly [ thankfully for my marvelous memory of everything ] was Shelly saying:

"... This sick, twisted world we're living in - I'm tired of it. I don't want my children to have to grow up being afraid of the same things I was. I want to make this world a better place - and, as I always say, you don't have to do anything big to change the world: you change one person, you change the world."

- Shelly

I know that message resonates with Alex very strongly. =]

So, Nicole and Shelly went back and forth, speaking of the world, and Matthew and I were standing alongside, observing and occasionally engaging in the discourse. It was interesting, to say the least, because she said she was a promoter for Hip-Hop and Rap artists who performed down on the boardwalk at the shows they had. They weren't rapping about the asinine and ridiculous habits our famous "idols" tend to gravitate towards to appease our simple pleasures:

"They're out here rapping about real stuff that's actually happened to them and that they want to stop - that they want to change."

- Shelly

Shelly was passionate in her statements.

Nicole was just the same.

Nicole readily shed her lone bracelet, brandishing her organization and offered it to Shelly.

Shelly whole-heartedly accepted it and inspected it.

"The reason I chose the hearts to be like a ribbon is because it looks like a ripple-effect - the love flows from one person to another."

- Nicole

And, I realized in that moment, that I had never even acknowledged that before.

She was much more clever than I had made her out to be, that lovely Nicole.

So, I google'd Nicole.

"Nicole Pastore"

And look what beautiful little treasure I found. =]

To say she's been a huge influence on me and my life is an understatement. I may have only known her for just about a year or so [ oh my God, Nicole, it's only been, like, a year what is this? Hahaha. ] but I feel like I've known her from my youth.

And, for me, that's a rarity.

Just watch it. It's five minutes. And if you don't smile once, it's because you don't know the kind of person she is.

"Anything you do will be up there. I used to Google myself all the time - if you do one stupid thing, your five-minute-act of stupidity will land you up there with all of your personal information, your address, your family: everything. That's why the way to go is to do positive things and change the world around you."

- Shelly

This is all feel-good stuff. The song's about everything being made for you in particular; Nicole's organization is to help you realize that life's not only bigger than both you and I but for both you and I; the world is about learning, living, and loving.

And it's amazing.

So, go ahead and Google yourself. Find anything?

Is it good stuff?

Don't you want to make it better?

Oh, and before I go, here're those links I promised. I'll be checking out this "No One Belongs Here More Than You" myself, so I can see what it's all about; and the site that a good friend of mine [ she says her name's Michelle but I call her My Angie <3 ] showed me is this: Calming Manatee [ so go spam that button at the bottom. ]

When have I ever said we couldn't make the world a better place?

And when have I ever said you were never loved?

I wouldn't write it if it weren't true.

Thank you Nicole for helping exact these points.

<3 ~ Monty
=]

[ and you left me shimmering ] . . . LIKE * d . i . a . m . o . n . d . :: { weddingrings//

I was lazy.

I said I wasn't going to do anything.

It's the Summertime. Why in the world would I do anything productive?

School's out, I'm no longer in High School, and all I have to worry about is getting ready for Freshman Year of college.

Makes sense that all I would do is prepare for the eons of sleep I would miss during my college years, right?

My mom woke me to go to the office with her.

I went every day this week while she was busy being more than one important aspect of the school. This week she was being a clinical instructor. Next week, she would be the administrator to get accreditation for the courses and supply us with a better foundation, a better establishment.

I would have to wake up, regular school hours, to tag along with her to drop off my younger brother at school, and then sit in a chair for a handful of hours while she was nowhere in sight.

The week after will be the same thing, though this week, she said something that lit a spark in my mind.

Most of my teenage years, I was apathetic to most things. I was confined to trying to figure out who I was and wouldn't like any particular influences that didn't coincide with what I wanted. Truthfully, we're too similar of people in certain aspects, so our astrological horns ram together, signifying the plenty clashing experiences we share.

But this week, she told me something that made me rethink my future.

No, Mom. I'm not quitting on my dreams, because that's something even you wouldn't advocate.

"This is your inheritance. Since your older brother isn't capable of taking care of it, and your younger brother is just a baby, it's all in your hands. You need to learn the ropes so that, should anything ever happen to me, you can run the business. People may know how things operate and what we do, but I need you to be able to take control and keep it going."

This lady here said that.
This picture was from the Graduation Dinner and stuff.
Nevermind my face, look at hers.
. . .  I suppose I got the weird faces from her, then.

If you have a first- or second-generation parent,  you'd understand the motivation and dedication these people have to efficiency. It's.... admirable, to say the least.
Even after my four years of studying what to do on stage, on film, and how to write about the world I've been neglecting and hiding from all the same for so long, I would need to return to this place. I would need to be one of the standing pillars that she could rely on, lean on without abandon and trust that she could leave the business in good hands in the later years of her retirement.

It made me think about the back-up plans she's always been goading me about. I mean, I did it because it was practical, and, as the person I am, being practical is the best way to go about planning futures, but this... this made me change my resolve to aid her.

If I couldn't directly appreciate her efforts as a mom, as a provider and couldn't stand her guts as a person, the least I could do was give her the slice of peace of mind she needed.

I was there all week to get a drop in the mouth - to taste and feel it out. A crash course in managing a business.

And the iota of responsibility I garnered was proportioned to me was more than enough to wipe me out.

How she did it every day and, on top of simply sitting there and doing the tedious errands she needed to, she taught classes, associated with her students, communicated and networked with complete strangers, putting  her neck out for the business she founded, and the works.

I've got to buckle down and realize that, whether I like it or not, I'll have to endure the same thing, if not a better rendition.

Because she's weathering the brunt of the storm right now.

Thankfully, she's her husband and my younger brother to give her some kind of company.

Talking to yourself isn't always unhealthy, sure - but the spiels this woman goes on about has me wondering what a filter really is.

Heh.

SO.

My resolve to help her strengthened. And she talked today about giving and helping and what I'm all about, basically.

One of the first students who gained a scholarship to her school was one of my siblings.

My sibling couldn't follow through with the studies and therefore lost the scholarship.

Years later, my mother resolved to offer scholarships to five different high schools and give the high school students opportunities to better their futures and better the world.

I'll admit, that's something I was surprised to hear she had in her.

But, then again, if I didn't make it myself, where did all my great qualities come from?

. . .

My grandmother, I'm convinced. <3

Lookin' good, Miss Flo. <3

Anyhow. That was nice to hear her say. And she kept looking to me, the tacit reference of my sibling having tinged the conversation's focus to stay away from open wounds.

To say the least, the two sides of my family aren't likely to overlap other than in mention of one another.

To me.

It's okay, really.

It's just, like, a schism of sorts.

When you have two polar opposites, you can always find the happy, middle ground.

=D

My resolve infected other things today. As I was running about, driving the car and such, I stopped by my school - my Alma Mater. I should start calling it that. Second home away from home and all that niceness. Hahah.

I dropped off the cards for our classmate, Robbie, and got to see the teachers for what would seem to be a bit of time. It made me think about the dream I had about him the other night, and then, when he finally communicated with me, I was beyond elation, to say the least. That helped my resolve to help and be active and do stuff, so I went back to my mom's office.

We were busy tending to the loose ends left while she was out of the office. Then we tried at communicating people for college.

Surprisingly enough, the easygoing path to college wasn't so worry-free for me. Financial aid and all.

Oh. Yes. You know all about that, you say? Well, have mercy on your soul. Hahah.

They didn't respond.

So, we went through the daily grind and picked up the work where we needed to. She got me to type up this Affiliation Agreement which was relatively tedious, but not all as bad as I thought it would have been. Then we got home, I showered, and decided to clean up the room my brother and I share.

I mean, I'd much rather not do it while they're not here and I have no reason to move out of my bed other than to open the office and then come back and sleep until the next day.

Sounds like an immaculate series of evenings for me. Haha.

But I got home and I cleaned. And I've been drawing for the past few days. I've also been working on resuming work on my novels - yes, books that authors write ( it's tons of fun, let me tell ya ). And, and, and, well, thinking of the covers.

I've been talking with Erik, and since I'm the only one of the two of us who's as busy as I am, we're resolving to figure this thing out. It's Summertime, and we don't really have much of an excuse to not do what we need to.

So we're gonna start cranking out songs.

The song at the top isn't one of them. This is just what I've been listening to, but forgot to mention and ended up putting at the top to cheat.
So. Yeah. Enjoy it.

I'll come back next week with something actually insightful, I guess.

For right now, just stop complaining and do what you're supposed to.

It'll make everything a lot easier for you later.

I promise.

<3 ~ Monty.
=]

we got all these words [ we can`t ] - WASTE THEM ON EACH OTHER .

You know what's always strange?

Surreal moments.

The greatest ones are when you realize something you already knew, but.. like, it's settling in. Y'know what I mean? You get comfortable with something, and then when it's all changing, you take a step back and take a breath and take a moment to gather your thoughts.

And then - just like that - it flashes right by you.

It doesn't feel like just yesterday when I walked through those double doors, practically intimidated by all the strangers, all the individuals who were larger than I, greater in numbers than I. I didn't anticipate that my path would go along the way it is. Take me down the lane of experiences, throw me into the bounties of people I would soon learn to cherish and guide me to the light at the end of the tunnel.

To say that I'm ready to take on the world would be both the truth and a full lie.

♫ All This Time ; OneRepublic ♪

The days when I listened to nothing but OneRepublic and Paramore were most certainly good times. And, incidentally enough, I think it was around Freshman Year when I was crazed over them. I mean, I still am, but my horizons have broadened.

Evidently not nearly enough, though.

"Freshman For A Day."

It's basically the experience wherein an individual is injected into a prospective learning institution and paired with a current student to feel the ebbs and flows, to see if they like the school or not.

I had quite the legend at Oratory; Jared Littlejohn.

To say he is the man is quite the understatement.

Well, I found no complaints with Oratory - I had been wearing khakis since my youth and being surrounded in an atmosphere of brotherhood and companionship would simply be carried over from both my family and middle schooling. Not to mention it was a great, arbitrary fail-safe.

Yep. You could just as easily call it an accident.

"Everything happens for a reason."

Well, I most certainly don't plan on recounting every waking moment in the last four years, but I can easily say that - from the first day I nearly shit myself of sheer nervousness to the last day where I was berating the clock for allowing another waking second pass by to end my career - it's been quite the adventure.

I... I really don't know what happened.

It's all gone by so fast; you and I both realize this, fellow Oratory Preparatory Graduate of 2012. We've shared our laughs, smiles, disappointments, struggles, and burdens alike to the finish line. Don't think that I've forgotten too many things, though.

Going through the Yearbook, which is pretty legit, might I say so myself - shout-out to Mrs. Gribbin and her awesome Yearbook henchmen for being amazing at what they do - I found a lot of good memories, a lot of faces that I wouldn't actually miss [ because I'd think about them nearly every day ] and the like. I went through most of the Senior Pages, and I couldn't help but smile at nearly every page.

Each one is a person. Each person is the son of two individuals. Each one of those sons have spent the years here at Oratory - be it two to the full six - and... Well, hell. You tell me.

What was your worst moment at Oratory?

Was it really that bad?

Well, keep that thought there.

What was your favorite moment at Oratory?

Can't think of just one, right?

Oratory's been our second home away from home. Say what you will, but for a batch of adolescents with raging hormones, irrational, developing minds and indignant personalities that make sparks fly, I think we turned out pretty amazing. If it weren't for the faculty and staff, I don't think any of us would be who we are today. We've each progressed in our own way or form - that is the one thing I admire about nearly everyone in our class.

In fact, if I had the roster of Seniors from the Class of 2012 in my lap right now, I'd be able to go down the list and relay my sentiments. Of course, I'm far too lazy to pull over the Yearbook that's within arm's reach.

If you're really that curious, you can ask me yourself. Hahah.

My friends, older and newer, I feel like I've developed great bonds, made great friendships and solidifying the fantastic memories - from Biology Class, Freshman Year to the simple luxuries of Senior Privileges.

It's a bittersweet moment for us, just like many others experiencing the same thing, having already experienced such or going to experience it all in their future - parting ways. After all we've been through, after all we've trudged through. The exams, the social buffers, the ice-breaking, earth-shattering, pivotal moments in our lives - all of it matters just as much as these moments of the weekend where we become official members of the Oratory Prep Rams Family.

Again.

I've been jamming out to this song. I want to just sing it. It may not hold the same significance to you as it does to me, but, trust me, if you sit long enough and think intensely so, you'll find something.

I'll be the first to admit, I wasn't overly fond of knowing everyone's name or of even speaking to a lot of people. But, that's life - things change, people change.

Even as we grow to be different people with different paths, don't let our bridges - quaking and craggy in our wake - completely crumble. Call up some help and go back to the good times, and patch up the holes. Or, better yet, knock it out and start anew.

You've got the rest of your life to make new friends and make amends with the old ones.

Let's see.

As I'm typing this, I'm wearing our Alumni sweatpants. They're somethin' else, huh? Kieran suggested that I should try them on, and now they're super warm - a bit too warm. But, I'll live. Hahah.

Ah! The Yearbook! Here it is.

It's called the Aries - like the Astrological sign.
Which is a Ram. Because our mascot's Stevie the Ram.
And, as an OP Ram, I think it's pretty important
that it is known
that we're the best.

This book is filled with tons of goodies. I didn't bother to scan it all, because you've all got your own, and if there are people who wanna check it out, I'll tote it around wherever.

It's so weird.
I'm trying to be insightful, but all I can say are these things that barely make any sense. Am I making sense? I hope I'm making sense. Whatever the case, I need to buckle down and actually get serious with this thing. Okay. I think I found something pretty good. Here we go.

It's my Senior Page.
I mean, I dislike the picture for plenty of reasons, but that's besides the point;
the content holds it all.

And I mean every single word of it.

I've had my own struggles with some of the guys, and it was the same group of individuals grinding my gears who made me feel like I had a reason to wake up every morning. It's funny, really - we're more like a family than we would admit to being. You know, I noticed something: there's a spectrum in our class - not just financially, ethnically, or what have you, but just a general spectrum.

There are cliques, as par standard high school order, but the spectrum I'm talking about is inclusive. It includes all of the fifty five [ right? ] of us in the class. It deals with our personalities, our backgrounds, our mindsets, and our futures.

If there's a generation of OP Alumni to do something for the world, I think we're the ones to pull it off.

There are so many strong leaders, so many intelligent guys that don't oft get recognition as much as the "elite" do, but there isn't a weak link in any aspect - each one of you is a great influence to me and who I've become, so I thank you for that.

And, of course, the atmosphere of Oratory wouldn't be what it is if it weren't for us. I don't know if it's the religious ambiance being instilled in the school and its body or simply the humble and selfless souls that have grown stronger. A batch of young men that are the embodiment of a bright future and great potential to promise the world.

The Program to the Baccalaureate Mass for Oratory Prep Class of 2012.

You know what I find funny?

I was thinking about a crap load of things to say for this entry while I was getting ready for the mass. And... none of them have yet to surface. I figured I'd end up forgetting about them anyhow, and I had this great idea to try and write the entry in the back of my Yearbook, but the dinner was too much of a delightful experience.

Selflessness. And St. Justin, the Martyr for Sunday.

I gotta look him up.

Wikipedia: Justin Marytr

Oh. I should have figured. His feast day is the first of June. Makes sense now.

Well, Oratory has not only made a name for itself in the academic and athletic departments, but its service to the less fortunate is something that I've found myself most in tune with. Seeing you guys, along with the younger students, out there helping people always makes me think if I were in their positions, I'd be insurmountably grateful to the school for raising awareness and encouraging such partnership. I know they may not seem like much to us when we're on the bus to or from, but for the people who have little and find it hard to keep their heads above the surface, I'm sure it makes the world of a difference.

I'm definitely going to miss you guys. As you go off to college and further your studies, I do hope you'll remember the things Oratory taught us, and having allowed them to be embedded within our memories, I think what Mr. Crum said about the Alumni Commandments could very well be feasible - going out and spreading the word of Oratory Prep and all.

These segways are horrible, but it's okay. I don't think any of you care anymore by now.

So, yeah. I definitely anticipate seeing a lot of your faces even after we're settled in other states. I look forward to catching up on the amazing things you've all done, hearing the crazy stories about your individual sojourns of your unique lives, and I'm proud of each and every one of you, just like our parents, families, friends, and Alma Mater are of us.

I keep hearing mention of Graduation being for someone in particular. Sure, it's for us, or it's mostly for our parents, but Graduation is inclusively ours - both yours and mine and theirs to experience together.

It doesn't take one person to make a Graduation and its processions what it is.

It takes an entire group of graduates - and, in our case, an entire group of young men with bright futures and blazing trails.

This is our high school graduation.

Our only one.

And this brings me to the aspect of our graduation wherein our religious teachings have instructed us - goaded us, more so - to act with the goodness in our hearts.

Our classmate, Robbie as he is affectionately called, is missing his High School graduation - missing our high school graduation. It's a sad thing, really; especially because I don't think there's a single person in our class who can bring themselves to say they dislike Robbie in any regard. Let our prayers be with him and his family in these hard times, because I don't think any of us would be as distraught as they are for the incidents to have lined up like this.

I was following along with the line of posts on his Facebook wall, and one of the ones that stuck out the most to me was Gerry's. All personal strings attached to the name, I respect Gerry for what he said.

"Hey kid.

Just wanna say that it really upsets me that you're not gonna be there with us tomorrow. You earned the right to walk up there and get that diploma.

It's been a great four years getting to laugh at your hilarious ridiculousness and awesome sense of humor and I can honesty say you would always brighten my mood when I was having a rough day. Hope you're doing alright and get better soon.

And if it's not too much trouble crack a smile when you read this, and maybe I can brighten your mood for once.

- Benign Lamb"

Robbie is a rather eccentric character, so his affection came in... strange nicknames.

As you can see, Gerry's is "Benign Lamb".

Regardless, the line that stuck out the most to me was " You earned the right to walk up there and get that diploma. " It doesn't help to think that it's the same with everyone else - everyone endured the five days a week, everyone did what they could to get where they are, where they wanted to be.


And to see the circumstances rip one of our own right out of our reaches, it's completely disheartening.


But, like one of my good friends, Tim Kelly said, "We take care of our OP Brothers. <3"


And I began to think about it.


And the symbiotic, complementary relationships we all have - despite the angst and drama that guys admittedly have - stay true to this setting of a Brotherhood.


Robbie, you're quite the character. It's indeed a shame that you're not going to be present when we're all either outside or inside, receiving our diplomas, relishing the bittersweet moments of another step in our lives with us. But, do know this - we've been thinking of you every step of the way. You're with us somehow, and that's half a step, I suppose. You can use the rest of your abstract mind to come up with a way to make sense of that and the rest of it all. If you're not feeling up to it, that's just as fine. I'll just use my recollection of all of your greatest moments - all of your Prime in Oratory - to my benefit. Like, perhaps, become a better writer by becoming as flexible as you permit yourself to be or become a better person by learning from the experiences we've had and will have. Regardless, don't lose sight of your goals.

If you really wanna rub Phillip Seymour Hoffman's stomach and blow out a candle while you're at it, I'll be the one to hold him down for you.


. . .


That sounded really wrong, but it's okay.

Everyone who's read his page would understand it. And that's all that matters.


I love you, Robbie. <3 Don't ever stop being yourself and don't hesitate to come and find me if you ever need anything. You already know all of the tedious, fine-line work is of no concern to me, so even if you just need to talk about anything ever, I'm your man.


I promise.


I'm honored to be able to consider all of you brothers of mine.


Especially with the exposed nerve I've got in regards to my very own family, brother in particular. You've all helped like I've been able to patch up this typical, maimed life I've somehow found myself in. Though, with each of us leaning on each other, I think it'll do better for us to carry on than to try and take a knee for a rest - we're an unstoppable force.

"So I'm straight in a straight line, running back to you."

All in all, it's been a rough four years filled with so many things that I don't want to start listing because I'm pretty sure they're not actually in there but we can pretend that they were and then the people reading this and not understanding anything [ probably including a lot of you ] will be very confused.


And let's keep it that way. =]

Congratulations, Oratory Preparatory Class of 2012.

"Know, Learn, and Serve" to "Prepare lives." 

" With Gratitude, we recall times past with friends;
With Joy, we celebrate this present moment with all we love;
With Hope, we anticipate the future with the entire world. "

"One by one."

Your brother <3

- Darin F. Earl, II
=]