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manionismyname
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Name: Andrew Jeffrey
Birthday: 6/16/1988
Gender: Male
Interests: I love my mother, and I miss being her son. As crazy as I was, I know I wasn't much of one. Sometimes I miss her so much, I want to hop on the next jet. I'm lonely, but I ain't that lonely yet.
I love my sister, Lord knows how I've missed her. I love her, and she knows I won't forget. Sometimes I get jealous of all her little pets, and I get lonely, but I ain't that lonely yet.
Are you my friend when I need one, I need someone to be one. I'll take anybody I can get. Sometimes I want to call you, but I feel a pest, and I'm lonely, but I ain't that lonely yet.
Message: message me
AIM:  dblebarreledduel
Member Since:
2/10/2004
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| Thinking about opening up the ole' xanga.
See if I can make anybody else do it with me.
Get some stuff off my chest.
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| The entire sr. grade is coupling up, like in the days of yore, when Sarah Manion walked the halls and called herself a high schooler. It's rather simple. We're older, more attractive, smarter, and more comfortable with ourselves, thus making -the vast majority of us anyway - more appealing to the opposite gender.
The school is turning into a game of musical chairs, and the last person to be left standing without a date has lost. I'll be beguiled if it doesn't make me feel like running out and finding a mate, too. I know it's folly, you silly knaves, but that doesn't stop me from feeling it anyway.
It's occurred to me that I've never really sought anybody. Sure, if I've liked them, I've eternalized it and admired them freakishly from a distance. But I've never really taken anybody out on a real date, or even asked, for that matter. Never went through the "getting to know you phase", because I'm always just friends or liking just a friend.
The whole dating process is something I've missed out on, partly thanks to my school, partly thanks to- well - my oddities, to say the least.
Now if I act upon this feeling of lonlyness, then I just don't know how I'll explaine it.
In other news, I know what I want for Christmas, and they are something I WILL have to help pitch in for. And I'll HAVE to obtain them while it is still pre-Christmas, due to their demand. I'll give you three hints.
It involves:
- The Raconteurs
- Chicago
- and New Year's eve.
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| If ever the mood should strike you, and for some incomprehensible reason, you wish to be completely overwhelmed, simply pull out the "Entertainment" section of Sunday's newspaper (Ask to borrow it, I kept mine). On the front and back are listed the impossible number of movies that are hitting theaters, between this weekend and Christmas. Google "video" search the titles you find, and watch the trailers. All of them.
Your interest in at least two dozen movies has been sparked. Not just sparked, but set ablaze. You must see these films, and you must see them now - or at least as soon as possible. There's at least two dozen of them. More than you can keep up with, even if you had the money to watch the new ones each week. Surely if you had the money, you would not have the time. But it is important! -To see the beauty, to know new stories, to have your heart and mind pulled this way and that.
And there is so much confusion in the world, and my head as well. Every single person out there is trying to convince you of something, and you are stupid. Everybody's selling, but you're not buying, and you don't know why outside of your gut. You just know, even if you can't rationalize it, and you don't know how to argue it. All you know is that everything is bull, and what you know, now that's the truth. But what the hell do you know?
Just confused...and rushed...and wanting to help.
It's fitting that someone who wants to help so much is so often helpless.
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| If I stop to think, I begin to stress. I make myself busy so I don't have to think. Wasting time like so many pennies you'll never get back, but make you wonder where and when you lost the dollars that add up from it all. As a consequence, I've done next to no thinking. Haven't been writing at all. Bummer, one of the few arts I have nearly mastered.
I love you, you stupid person. You're beautiful, and you know it. I may not act like I even like you sometimes, but maybe that's just the day, or you caught me at the wrong moment. The truth is I love you, and am utterly enchanted with your presence. If you're reading this and thinking in the back of your head, "I think he's writing this about me", the truth is, I am. You. Magical you. Give me a hug next time you see me. When you do that, I'll know you love me to.
I apologize for not standing up tall, the way I know I am meant to. I was called to be a defender of the people. "To sit in the seat of the wise, and snatch the cripple from the teeth of evil. I do not pack a sword the way I should, and often walk away when things look like a showdown. I am not brave enough to fight. I'm afraid of fighting for a false or lost cuase. I need to get into the game. Start something. Shake things up. God as my witness.
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| It's so funny that I can pick apart bad music by sighting faulty lyrics. My reasoning is that most times they try to be poetic, but fail. Or perhaps I sight good music for having very eloquent lyrics, which I specify as poetic.-I really cannot read poetry without difficulty. I used to write it, very poor stuff mind you, but the point still stands. More proof that I will talk all about something without actually getting it first. Figure it all out.
I think I want to do something revolutionary. Music is something otherworldly.
I once read that everybody would be a either a rockstar or a famous actor if they had the chance. I'd be a dingy blues guitarist, playing in seedy, poorly lit bars throughout the deep, bayou-ridden south.
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