So here I am, rocking out to Queen, sporting my full-brimmed black hat and singing along as though I am actually any match for the late, great Freddie Mercury. In my mirror, I look like a fool.

But damn it, it's fun!

So what if I look and sound like a fool? You know what? I don't care. I need this...just letting go and loosing my mind for a while. It's therapeutic. It's good for me. Everybody should just go nuts every now and then. Sure, we prefer to do so in privacy where nobody can collect photo evidence as blackmail, but we've just gotta do it. We'd go insane forever and for real if we didn't go insane temporarily and for kicks.

So go ahead. Sing along with that vocally astronomical song you adore. Dance your fool head off. Grab a broomstick and leap across the living room to save that damsel (or prince...?) in distress.

Hell, I do it. All the time.

I love Star Wars, so don't get me wrong. I was once a great Star Wars fan (read: geek), and the information I remember about the series allows me to still tangle with current aficianados (those that aren't afraid of the sun, anyway;) though the action figures, models and posters were all taken down a long time ago.

But seriously, Star Wars is such a massive marketing whore.

I can't escape it in my local grocery store, for Pete's sake. Everywhere I look, Vader is glowering at me from a bag of Cheetos, or I'm being told by Pepsi that Yoda will make me win something. Lightsaber here, starship there. Action figures, masks, toy lightsabers, book bags, clocks, shirts! And this is only a grocery store! I don't understand why George Lucas is afraid of not having funding for the artsy films he wants to do. The man must be rolling in money with the amount of goods he's pimping out to hyperactive eight-year-olds, and the creepy 35-year-olds still living at home in mom and dad's basement.

I intend to go to see the first showing of Episode III when it comes out. I may even wind up owning some of that new memorabilia. So I won't say I'm against it entirely.

But Vader? Get off my Cheetos, man.

I have decided that I hate leaving things unfinished. That not having closure is about the damnest thing in the world. I like to wrap my wounds and let them heal up real nice. I won't describe the situation or who is involved, but I will say that I have failed to find closure. Or, rather, closure has failed to find me. Whichever may be truer. This situation bothers me to no end, but I feel as though there is nothing I can do about it. I just don't feel like I can talk to the people involved anymore...there's just nothing there, y'know?

You are one of the more creative of the dictators. When not writing poetry you're devising your own version of communism. As over two million Chinese staved to death because of your little experiment you should have stuck to writing sappy songs! What tin-pot dictator are you? Take the "What Dictator am I?" test at PoisonedMinds.com

Ah, Chairman Mao. Were it not for the poorly thought-out economic plan and sic'ing Chinese students on their teachers, you wouldn't have been so bad!

Which reminds me: I have decided my father qualifies for being a tinpot dictator.

I was playing Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas earlier, when he decided to come downstairs, sit on the couch, and watch me play. Which bothers me to no end--he does it just to drive me off by making dumb comments so he can have the TV, since he has nothing else in his life.

A man as useless as this does not have a right to hold superiority over me. He should be overthrown.

What with all the bangin', bouncin', poppin', bustin', smokin', shootin', rollin' and all the hookers, ballas, gangstas and corrupt cops, I don't really care to play the game in the presence of my father, who takes way too much interest in my day-to-day activities (not as in keeping tabs on me but sticking around to bug me.)

So, Anyway. Forget him, for now.

I have failed in reformatting my hard drive, and I don't think it's going to happen ever. I can't get an XP disk, and everything else has failed. I need a couple thousand dollars to just go buy a new one and the software for it. Really, I'd like to build one, but that would cost about 5,000 dollars by the time I was done with it.

I'm not a cheap date.

Let me begin by saying holy good (expletive) god this (expletive) is so (expletive) (expletive) up it ain't (expletive) (expletive) (expletive) (expletive) (expletive) (expletive).

(Expletive).

Not a week after getting my internet back, the unexpected happens. My electricity gets shut off, without even a proper reacharound. I arrive home on Tuesday morning only to have my father tell me that it'll be months before it gets turned back on. Thoroughly sick of his shit, I walked out of the house, and took refuge at a friends house. Those wonderful people actually gave me a place to sleep for almost an entire week while my electricity was off. God bless them.

"But I thought you said months!" you say. Funny thing, that.

I come home from my AP US History exam Friday to change my shirt before going off to lunch with some friends, and I notice there is a TV on, and that the clocks are working. Apparently, my mom's friend loaned her the 800 bucks needed to turn the electricity back on. Good stuff, right?

Actually, no.

This really pisses me off. This kind of shit just encourages my dad, and I know it. Why would he get a job if someone is always bailing his sorry ass out? Mom seems thrilled that he did a lot of work yesterday (mowed the lawn, cleaned out the cars...), but no. It won't last and I know it. 800 Dollars won't keep the electricity on, put food in the cupboards, or pay for my tests.

I keep asking myself how long before I go off on somebody in this house.

To be honest, the only thing that really makes this place any kind of a home to me is my mother, bless her. She's a saint, putting up with my father and his family, my brother and his attitude, and everything I do that should be driving her nuts. Other than her, the people who gave me a place to stay for the week feel more like family. They've given me a home away from home, if you will, and I have nothing but love for those people. They're not reading this, but thank you, again, so very much. I owe you guys the world.

Right, onto other business.

My computer has come down with a nasty, nasty disease. I can't really do anything with my computer, and getting onto the internet like this is a loophole. I'm trying to reformat my hard drive and re-install Windows XP, but I keep running into problems. It's a real pain in the ass, but if I manage to reformat it'll be like buying a brand new computer. Without costing me a thousand bucks.

Until then, I can't really do anything with it. Sometimes my brower just crashes on me, or freezes up. It's a nuisance, I tell you.

So, where have I been? Off on some secret assignment for Her Majesty's government, wooing women in exotic locales and foiling somebody's plans for world domination? Maybe a much-needed vacation on short notice? A really long soma holiday?

No, nothing like that.

The cable company, who supplies my internet, decided 700 dollars of debt was justification to shut it all off. Not that I disagree with them, but I still hate them for it. So, I had to make do without. I still actually had my computer and the games on it, plus my books and my friends. I'd be fine, and I guess I was.

Sorta.

Y'see, it didn't really bother me until I had a major history assignment. My parents said I'd have my internet back before it was due, so I'd have plenty of time to research. Only, not really. Four days before the project was due, I knew I wasn't going to have it back in time. I managed to get one book out of the public library, but to be honest with you, books are terrible for this sort of thing. It's impossible to wade through them in a timely fasion to get the exact information you're looking for. I didn't have time to read through tomes of information and make myself an expert.

The result was a paper using little hard facts but a lot of drama to support my position.

I got my internet back two days after I handed it in. I was glad, but it could have been done a little sooner, yeah? But anyway...onto the question of how I've actually been.

Not very well, to be honest. I haven't really been sick or anything. I've been happier, though. A lot of thinking can be really bad for you, and I did a lot of thinking. I won't go into too much detail, only that I am very frustrated, angry and tired of the way things are for me.

I'll try to get back into the swing of blogging, if anyone still comes here.

I have been told on a number of occasions and by several different people that I fit the profile of the "nice guy". Patient to a fault, a sucker for a pretty face, willing to put up with all the ridiculous antics and BS of the fairer sex. I guess they're right, and I'll be damned if I don't feel like I suffer for it. I'll admit I don't exactly throw myself out there, but nobody's ever shown any real interest in me, it seems.

I have this brooding sense of never finding love in time. That by the time that girl comes around (if ever) I'll have become so bitter and cynical that I won't be able to hold down a relationship. I once argued that love is real, and not some imaginary emotion. How long will I stand on that side of the line?

I've been assured that one day that perfect girl is going to walk into my life, we'll fall madly in love and live happily ever after. It's a shame I stopped believing in fairy tales. Nothing has convinced me that things can ever change. For all my optimism, I have almost none for myself.

I am now fasting. For how long? Why? As long as I have to, and for world peace! Or maybe nuclear disarmament. Social reform? Still not buying it?

Alright, alright, there's just no food in the house!

That is, while there are edible substances (some of a questionable expiration date) I'm not about to touch any of them. This is ridiculous to the OMG degree. There's no money, no real food, and everybody is in a depressed mood except for me, because I make light of my own suffering.

I should come up with a religion and use that as my excuse. My own religion, with me as it's prophet! I wonder how many suckers I could rope in?

I think I'm experiencing some sort of emotional adjustment right now. I'm not quite sure in what direction, but I can feel it. A different mood has certainly presented itself. I believe I know some of the reasons for this; some of them are downright silly, I know...but others are geniune. Alas, even the relative anonymity of the internet does not give me the comfort zone needed to disclose all of these reasons. Silly, isn't it?

In part I can tell you that I've grown tired of being unfomfortable with myself. Part of this is physical...I am not in the shape I would like to be in. I need to lose some weight. Though I am not hideously obese, I am packing a few more pounds of fat than I am comfortable with. So, I've decided to change my diet. Exercise more.

Also, I think once winter ends I might take to biking to and from school again. The exercise is needed, and it'll give me freedom that the bus doesn't. I may even start doing my homework in the library, before going home. That'll certainly lighten to load in my backpack for the trip.

This posts sounds more angst-ridden than I intend, but I'm really not sad about what's written here. Yes, some of my reasons for this desire to change have caused me a bit of sadness, but I think wanting to turn things around is good.

I also hope to get a job soon. I've got an application out now, and I'm giving it two weeks before I call them up to see if they've looked at it yet. If prospects look bad, I'll get more out; this is the most likely opportunity, though. It's a good place to work, as well. I may even build better 'people skills'. Sure, I'm polite, but not very outgoing.

I would like to write a book. I have thought about it for a while, and I know that much. I would like to write a book. What kind of book? A novel, probably...but what about? I'm not sure. They say write about what you know, but what do I know? I'm only 17...not a lot of time under my belt to gain experience. What sort of point could I make? Anybody can come up with a story, but I want a story with meaning. A story that has a strong message to it.

Something worth writing.

So, a genre? Fantasy? I'd want to pour a lifetime's worth of work into it. Not a viable option. Romance is certainly a no-go. Suspense? Drama? Thrills? Chills? Spills! Oh, I don't know. Clancy or King? Whose footsteps will I seek to follow? Or dare I forge my own path through the untamed wilds?

Guess it needs more thought.

Anyway, I received my first two college promotional whatchamacallits in the mail the other day. St. John's and Long Island University. To be honest, it's kind of exciting. I look forward to going to college. I'm certainly shooting for the New York/New England area for my first four years, anyway. Political Science and History. I suppose after that it'll be either Law (most likely), or if I have a change of mood, journalism.

I've just gotta find a way to pay for it all.