Recessive Gene

I’m not who I was

Recessive Gene — Fri, 29 May 2009 23:36:30 +0000

When I look back on my past, I’m not proud. Not at all. But I’m trying, so very, very hard, to not be that anymore. I do well 90% of the time. I don’t feel the need to be mean or spitful or violent or rash or angry anymore. I try to be as happy as possible, and even though I still feel the same way about it all, I don’t do anything about it anymore. And that’s good! It’s really good! People who just met me this year think I’m nice and shy, which I really am. I’m very nice, and I’m extremely shy, but for some reason people can’t let go what I let show when I was younger.

Sometimes when I’m around people I haven’t seen in awhile who only know my from a few years back, for some reason, and God I wish I knew why! But for some reason, I restort to how I was…I’m teasing and mean, but this year, I am more gental with it. I also don’t know how that’s possible, but they aren’t as offended, they kind of get it. So that’s the basis – I’m a very changed person, and I’m glad most understand that.

Now here’s the problem: my friends. They’re the only ones left. They love me, that’s why they’re my friends, and for some God-forsaken reason, they think they have to “overlook” my meanness and accept it and me. I don’t understand! My friends are supposed to be the ones who get me the most, yet they get me the least! Constantly I hear from them “Your are so mean!” and “Be nice!” and they mean in, not like in a kidding way at all. It’s usually because I’m joking, but they don’t understand that because of me past and you think they would seeing as those are the people I hang around all the time. Why don’t they get it? I’m not who I was, can’t they understand that? I guess not, but I wish they would…

Death

Recessive Gene — Sat, 16 May 2009 05:45:31 +0000

I’ve never really thought about death seriously. I just figured it was a part of life. See, no-one has ever died that is really close to me. But, recently, I’ve found something out. Something terrible, and unfair, and cruel, and unfair, and heartless, and unfair! Greg (which is, again, a cover name) is dying. He has had a heart condition for a long time, and he probably won’t even make it to 30. Years old! He is already more then half way done with his life and he’s MY AGE! How is this fair? I ask God this all the time, I cry about it all the time, I pray about it more and more as the day nears. See, Greg is not just my friend, but he is the very most important person in the entire world to my best friend, the very most important person to me)

My best friend’s best friend…dead in a shorter amount of time then we’ve been alive. It’s not like we’re forty! WE ARE FIFTEEN! What the fuck is wrong with this world? He is the sweetest boy you’ll ever meet. He treats everyone right. He is all his mother has! He has done nothing but be the best he can be in school, and life, and friendship, and love… Why, then, does he have to die? Why can’t he live with us, for just twenty more years? Ten? Five? Two? One? I just want him to be here for her, just a little bit longer. God, why?

Why must there be death?

Thank You

Recessive Gene — Sat, 16 May 2009 01:47:03 +0000

Whom this is intended for will never read this – he doesn’t have to, because he has heard it from me before. Of all the people who talk to me, all the things each one could say, he is unique. He says what needs to be said, and means it too. So, of all the things I can return, there is one I want the whole world to know I am saying to him. What he deserves is a

Thank you.

Worst Week Ever

Recessive Gene — Sun, 10 May 2009 02:50:20 +0000

There’s some point when it just turns to pain.

Everything I’ve been through the past weak has been tolerable. Light teasing by friends, duh, that’s what you do as friends. A little trouble at school, duh, it’s supposed to be tough. Old things not working out, fine, it’s in the past…But when it’s incessant making fun of my roots, where I come from, how I speak, and how I look, when I’m doing so poorly in my classes that I want to cry whenever I’m adding another assignment to my load, and when a childhood friend won’t even give me the time of day, not even one sentence, it’s like constant waves on the wall surorunding your city. All I’ve been through in the past week went from tolerable to unbearable. Those are my ocean waves. My wall is the concrete shell I’ve built around myself to keep from being hurt by anyone. Just keep everyone else out, perfect. And my city, my center, by being, my heart. At some point it’s so hard to keep that shell up, ignore everything that’s happening. I want to break the wall from the inside nad scream and cry, and i won’t. I’m far too strong for that. But, honestly, how long can someone as strong as me hold out? It gets really hard.

And there’s some point when it all just turns to pain. Everything morphs into a swelling knife stabbing you from the inside out. Pain is all I can feel at a time like this. Betrayed and failing myself.

Waiting, waiting, waiting…nothing

Recessive Gene — Sat, 09 May 2009 04:02:23 +0000

I’m going to have to say, waiting is a terrible thing to endure. It’s one thing to be standing in line at Starbucks begging for the oaf in front of you to decide on her drink already, but its quite another to have your hope and happiness dangled in front of you with a sign saying “Please Wait” and just hovering there for weeks. You want to cut the strings holding the sign, or just erase the words and make them your own. Give up on the thing maybe so you can stop living your life around it.

I know it’s hard sometimes to let things go, but sometimes you have to. The problem is there are so many things worth waiting for. An application back from college, a phonecall from a grandparent, a little note from an old friend. How long can we wait? As people, the most impatient species alive, how long are we capable of waiting? A lion can creep after a deer for hours, but humans struggle to wait five mintues for a cookie at lunch time.

“It’s been awhile, how’ve you been? I can’t believe I found you.” It’s so short, so simple, yet so meaningful, and what you get back as a response matters more to you then anything. Trust me, I know. Waiting, waiting, waiting, no response, no messege, completely ignored. I probably deserve it, it’s my fault anyway, but it hurts all the same. How long can I wait? What do i do when i’m tired of waiting? Become pesty, angry, sad? Yet, I refuse to do so. Don’t I? Please, please.

Another Poem

Recessive Gene — Mon, 04 May 2009 03:54:19 +0000

This poem is kind of personal, but I’m posting it anyway, because only one other person in the whole world knows who its about. If you don’t realize this on your own, let me tell you why there are two colors. The blue is the sad side of the story, the current side, sadly enough. The purple stanzas match the blue ones perfectly but what I wish I could say, and do, sad aren’t I? Oh well, tell me what you think:

“I’m Sorry”

I beg of you
My one friend
The one I first saw
The one I first met
Don’t forget
Who I was to you

Will you leave me?
Insecure
Remorseful and lost
Crying out your name
Answer me!
We were so close

Don’t you remember?
Why don’t you remember?
Remember me!
You are my all,
Am I still yours?
I was.

It’s my fault
I know.
I cry everyday
I left you
Left you alone
To fend for yourself

You were so young
But so was I
How was I to know
What the consequences
Would be?
What I would lose?

I’m sorry!
Hear me!
Calling for you!
Calling for you.
Hear me.
I’m sorry.

So, come back
Come to me again
I never wanted to leave
I never wanted to leave
Believe me
I love you

I beg of you, love
My truest friend
The one I want
The one I need
Please forget
What I’ve done

Don’t leave me
I’m insecure
I’m sad and so very lost
I cry out to you
So answer me, love
We can be close again

You remember
Don’t you?
I can see it
You’re still my universe
Let me be yours
Like I was.

I blame myself
You can too,
I don’t want to cry
I want to come back
Let me
Protect you

We’re older now
Mature, we can handle it!
I didn’t know!
I swear to God, I didn’t know
What I was doing.
I didn’t lose you, did I?

I’m so very sorry!
Can you hear me?
I know you can!
I know you can.
Can you hear me?
I’m so very sorry.

Come back!
Come to me, please!
I wanted to stay with you
I wanted to stay with you
You know that now, right?
I really do love you.

A Song, and A Poem

Recessive Gene — Sun, 03 May 2009 03:35:47 +0000

Please give me feedback (and please don’t like steal these or something , that’s plagerism)

SONG TITLE: White Nights

I was a shooting star
Then you broke me
I tried to shine
But you made my night
To bright to see me
All that’s left of me
is a long-forgotten shadow,
A faint imprint on the sky,
a marking on a cloud

White Nights
It’s so hard to sleep
White Nights
The light is blocking
My thoughts
My mind is clouded
I have doubted
Myself over everything

What am I hiding from?
Behind the foggy glass
My own breathe
Your fear instilled in me
You knocked me down
Kicked the dirt
Dropped the wet leaves
All over me
I am dark now

White Nights
It’s so hard to sleep
White Nights
The light is blocking
My thoughts
My mind is clouded
And I have doubted
Oh ~ myself over everything

Now I won’t even walk
Won’t even breathe
Won’t call your name up
From my memory
It’s all I want to hear
That you are with me
Not…Against…Me
But you’ve chosen sides~
You’ve chosen sides~

MY THOUGHTS ARE CLOUDED
I HAVE DOUTBED
MYSELF~
OVER EVERYTHING

White Nights
It’s so hard to sleep
White Nights
The light is blocking
My thoughts
My mind is clouded
I have doubted
My integrity
And dignity
Myself
Over everything.

POEM TITLE: Corrupt

The leaves of the waves
Rustling, Shushing
Running amuck
Wanting, Troubling
Minds are a-barred
Waiting, Taunting

Night of the Stars
Shining, Whining
Craving Attention
They never could receive
Paying for the hurt
They never knew they did
Falling and Stalking
And Crashing and Dropping

Floating atop
Destruction, Faith
Everything coming to a deadly stop
Cradle the one thing
They can never have
Pacing, Leaving
Giving up the Hope

Draining, Shaking
Anyone who’s ever held them up
They are spinning
Down a Black Street
Watching, Resurfacing
Killing and Blooming

Frosted Roses
Atop a casket
Drifting, Flaking
Never keeping promises
Stuttering to the ground
Melting into the arms
The Earth swallowing whole
Turning, Lighting
Flames burst, Fighting
Punching, Kicking
Reverse and Sipping

Nails of the hand
Piercing, Bleeding
Fingers Uncaring
Blistering, Subtly
Callous of Him, isn’t it?

Running, Cunning
They’ll never escape
What they Fear
But perhaps what they fear
Is what they feel
The least scared of
What they’re proud of
Smiling, Crying

Truth is terrible
Lying to get what you need
Existing, Threatening
Hand in Hand
Walking, Suffering
One movement at a time
Thriving, Reaching
Clawing, Sparkling

Everyone’s Base
Is unstably corrupt
Heritage, Culture
Incurably corrupt.

Coming Soon to RG!

Recessive Gene — Fri, 01 May 2009 22:48:20 +0000

Soon, I will be posting some songs and poetry that I’ve written. They are only rough drafts, and may not be my best work, but i want to share it anyway. If you will post comments telling me what you think when they’re up, that would be very helpful for the final drafts and editing, thank you!

Extraordinary Part I

Recessive Gene — Wed, 11 Mar 2009 22:59:16 +0000

I’m basically here to prove that all outcasts, loners, freaks, weirdoes, and abnormal people in general are actually what we as a human race have dubbed extraordinary.

Anyone said to be normal, is just that – NORMAL. So, who is not normal? Who is better than the “average” person? Those who are strange, weird, and lonely, that’s who. The minds of those are the ones we should be tapping into, not the others!

Such as standardized tests. Standardized tests are for those normal people, because they are just that – STANDARD. Where is the test that draws out the already ostracized, and uses what goes on in their strange minds to change the world?

(Was that too dramatic for you? Because those of you who have read my other blogs know I hate drama, so you know I would never over- dramatize! I’m dead serious.)

What those outcasts are thinking is probably nothing like anything in history, and are highly-likely to be freakishly brilliant. Even those “losers” who flunk their classes and never speak have passing thoughts that are truly extraordinary, and simply have no-one to share them with.

I don’t know when Part II is coming, and I don’t know how many parts there will be, I just know I have a goal. My mission is set – I will prove that OUTCASTS ARE EXTRAORDINARY!

Drama

Recessive Gene — Wed, 11 Mar 2009 22:37:54 +0000

Oh goodness, drama-much? Am I alone in saying that people who over-dramatize things are the most annoying brand of humans ever to exist ever? I hate drama-queens with a passion. I am so mad, if you couldn’t tell at the way I’m typing this, because of all the non-drama turned drama in people’s heads around me! Obviously, I’ll use false names in the following story/rant, so as not to call people out.

So “Kitty” decided to not hang out with “Jenny” one day, and hung out withe me instead. OMG right? Huge deal that they don’t spend every minute together! That’s what Jenny thinks. She now refuses to talk to Kitty at all, and is being a jerk because of one lost weekend. Sad, isn’t it? Not to mention Jenny is wasting so much energy being dramatic at this. Now, the problem is that Kitty is being over dramatic about Jenny’s over drama. Kitty is freaking out over “losing a friend” and “dissapointing everyone. Am I wrong in saying that they are both being ridiculous?

And another case. “Rachel” is a huge drama-queen for the attention. Now, everyone loves attention, but she’s addicted to it. Needs to be the center of attention all the time! Anyway, it was a very important (and exciting) day for “Via”. So Rachel walks over to Via and starts talking about this terrrible experience she had and then, when everyone got tired of the story, they began to pay more attention to Via again. Noticing this, Rachel bursts into tears and runs away. Obviously, some of us knew it was drama and way over done. But, obviously, people became concerned, and Via, on this important and exciting day for her, faded into the shadows.

So, for those of you drama-queens and those of you who know or are frequently annoyed by them, I just want you to know: It’s not cool, it’s not funny, it’s does not at all have the reaction you intend, it needs to be stopped. Over-drama has ruined a lot of days and friendships in my experience.