Enter The Abyss...

In sickness and in health

2004-04-02T13:12:00.000-08:00

In sickness and in health i promised to write this blog. I am doing so in sickness. My allergies are catching up with me and made me miss school today.

This week was full of fun. On Monday, we had to write about River, an intelligent Iraqi woman and her account of the war, and an American soldier’s account. That was a fun way to start the week. On Tuesday we began a fishbowl discussion that we finished on Wednesday. I had never heard of one, but the idea was simple enough. A group of people outside watched and could ask questions but nothing more to the conversing group of about five in the middle. We talked about war and if we needed it. The class was spread out evenly and I enjoyed being able to speak my mind for two minutes. I said war is not necessary, it can be an easier alternative, and I mentioned some things that could not be classed as open warfare; such as bribery, sabotage and slow working underhanded methods. It was a mere technicality that separated my advice from acts of war, but it was still true. Thursday was quite fun, as the quiz was not so hard and I had time to catch up on all my work from other classes. I look forward to more weeks like these.

Spring Break is Over

2004-03-28T07:37:00.000-08:00

Since Spring Break is over, I can successfully tell it as a memory. I choose not to. Not just yet I mean; I might need a topic to write about later :P. Instead, ill recount to you the Spring break of 2002.

It began at four in the morning. That is, the trip began. My mother and I sat on the tourbus. Only less than twenty hours till we would have fun the sun. It was the normal tourbus trip. Restroom breaks every few hours, picnics every 6 hours, standard stuff. We climbed the Appachlians and took a one night break. We stopped at some motel. We tried to get in but the electronic keycards were fried. Finally after our motel room could not be opened, we had to get another room. There was only one other room available. A smokers room. We had to air it out for three hours till it became bearable and slept with the door slightly ajar. The next day we headed out after a free breakfast (continental of course) and we reached our hotel in Daytona Beach. The IvanHoe. The next week was just fun in the sun, illegal fireworks, jellyfish catching, sand stealing, walking and swimming in the Atlantic.

The Week Before Spring Break

2004-03-19T09:49:00.000-08:00

This week was quite a fun week. The movies we watched in class were pretty funny. I enjoyed the reduced Shakespeare company thing and I hope that you "Will" show us more videos of Will's Wonderfuly Witty Works. The spelling competition video was okay, but it was pretty boring after a while. In other words, it got real old, real fast. The article given about the war was very well written. At first I thought it was an article but then I reread the intro and found it was a journal. It was exciting and made me realize just what some soldiers are up to there in the war zone. We didn't really have too many education orientated discussions, unless you can count the conversations about the borderline between Funny and JackButt. I hope that the next videos will be more fun and have much less educational values in them.

56k bloggin

2004-03-13T22:56:00.000-08:00

Boy oh boy. I sit here posting my blog off a 56k connection and boy is it fun.
I remember the days of 56k and how I would struggle just to download a megabyte. Today I realize that i take my 1.5 megabit connection (roughly 1500k) for granted and that I should be more grateful for my high-speed internet. I used to play WARCRAFT 2 and sit there, waiting to connect to every server. It would only be okay if my enemy and I lagged at the same speed, so it would even itself out, but when it came to a fast connection over the slow one, it was the fast one that won. Using a 56k modem seemed to be pretty fast at the time compared to 26k modems, and I thought that what I was using was top of the line. I sit here, trying to Blog and what do I get? A filthy blue bar with icons missing and Blogger does not seem so user friendly anymore. I pray for this to end and then I cringe as I remeber Ms. Hsing telling us of her slow 28k connection. What has the world come to? How can anyone even use this kind of Internet! But this is a good lesson for me; I shall no longer be ungrateful for my dsl when it lags. Well, at least for a few days. :P .

An event just barely qualified for being a memory.

2004-03-06T18:31:00.000-08:00

March 5, 2004. Oakton Street. This is the last place my dear departed friend will ever visit. A fine week had passed and I was amazed at how well things were going. I woke up late everyday, but somehow arrived to school earlier than usual. I did well in my typing class and I had not missed a single episode of Family Guy, and watched a satisfying Justice League. Life was grand. Well, until friday that is. I woke up at 6:47 a.m. and brushed my teeth, ate breakfast and my mother and I began to leave. She pulled out of her spot, and onto Oakton. We drove and a few mere blocks before Niles West.
The terrible, unmentionable thing happened. It was an event that made me change how I looked at my mom, and will never look the same way at her again. She ran over a squirrel. "Boris! Look back! Is it okay?" She gasped. I foolishly looked back and I instantly regretted it. It was lying there, twisting violently. I looked at her and said no with tears wellowing up in my eyes. That was how my good week would end. With a bang, buy not with one I would expect.

Another Memory

2004-02-28T23:52:00.000-08:00

I rather enjoy writing about memories, because they bring back memories. I bet you would have never thought of that metaphoric and wonderfully put statement.

I am writing this at my dad's house, so it would seem fit that a memory be derived from this location. I usually visit every few weekends and the frequency rises in the summer. In the summer, we would have BBQS and chill on the lawn. After a while, my dad and I would play Chess and we would usually quit when there were 2 or three moves left to decide the victor. Summer here is fun. A little too fun sometimes. Especially toward August when the beetles come.
Every year, beetles attack the private garden in the back consisting of a large vegetable patch, a grape vine patch and a few cherry, plum and peach trees. They arrive in the thousands and we try to kill them off the day before, but it never works. If you look at a single leaf, you can see millions of them crawling around and millions more eggs unhatched. It is almost like a scene straight out of a horror movie. We have put Milky Spores to kill them this previous summer and we hope that it will get rid of them this summer, but we have to wait. The day after they all hatched, there were millions of them everywhere and the attempts to wash them off were fruitless, much like the trees at this point. Finally, I became so sick of them and the little crunchy noises and I took a metal pole and my dad put an old shirt around it and wrapped it around real good. We soaked it in gasoline and the fun started. I held the pole close and the beetles dropped. Around half an hour passed and I do not know how many we had killed. We stopped and we looked and there were still a large number there left. The beetles had won. I went home and eventually they died or flew away. I still am not sure if they plant eggs in the ground or fly there and eat. That mystery shall remain.

First Memory Post

2004-02-19T15:38:00.000-08:00

Today, as I sat down to my blog, I read the "hsing's freshman assignments & reminders" and looked at the possible choices I had for writing. I skimmed down the list and I have chosen Memories. This got me thinking. What memories did I have? Then it hit me, Memories! Exactly! I now remember that night in Shubert Theatre. Ah, good times. It was my first trip to that theatre and it was a good change from the normal shows I mostly attended; Operas. I was going to see "CATS". At around 5:00 pm, I left the house (really a condo) and walked with my mom towards the train station. Ten minutes later, we arrived and we waited for the train. It arrived, we boarded, and after a bit of a ride, we arrived in downtown Chicago. Plenty of walking later, we arrived at the Shubert theatre with fifty or so minutes to spare. My mom led me into a "fancyish" restaurant and we ate at a quick pace. The food was okay, but the best was the chocolate pie. It was time for the Broadway performance and we hustled inside. My mom flashed the tickets and was let inside by a security guard. She gave up her tickets and received a pair of stubs. She put them in my coat pocket and we went inside. The show began and the performers had such wonderful costumes. There was a beautiful reproduction pf a junkyard and the makeup and special costume accessories almost made you wonder if those were humans up there. Then, the best song arrived. Memory. "Memories, all alone in the moonlight".... "I was beautiful then..." I almost cried. It was so awesome. It was sung so well, and it was so sad. I loved memory. I still get sad when I hear it. Memory is the best song ever.

100 Things About Me List

2004-02-05T05:49:00.003-08:00

A hundred things about me.

I enjoy long walks on the beach.
I own a rock.
I enjoy the smell of wet dirt.
I like bacon.
I like chocolate.
I like chocolate-covered bacon.
I have brown hair.
I have hazel"ish" eyes.
I love SEVEN NATION ARMY by White Stripes.
Im Blue, Daba dee daba Die.
I have a small knowledge of HTML.
I have family members.
I think that perfume smells good.
I like Armani Mania.
I play Counter-Strike.
I am fourteen.
My birthday is March 9
I was born in the Soviet Union.
I came to America when I was a wee baby.
I can't be the President of the US.
While I could be out doing something great, I am sitting here lettin my braincells bask in the dull glow of the monitor.
I own a Playstation 2.
I have made a promise on Thursday, February 5, 2004 at 3:26 p.m. I would start minimizing the amount of periods in my blogs
I collect batteries
I have crystals shaped like bugs, pacifiers trains and other objects that my mom purchased for me from Svartsky Crystals.
I hate sunglasses sometimes
I bruise easily
I sometimes get a nice tan, but mostly a nice burn
I have 2 half-sisters and a half-brother
I like bubble gum
I love watermelon flavored bubble gum
I like breath mints
I watch TV every night
I like Alternative music.
My favorite radio stations are Q101, the mix and the loop. I also enjoy XRT
I have just broken my promise of no periods^^^^^
I play computer with a headset
I have an interest in setting fires
I love pyrotechnic displays
ay ahm a gewd sphelur
My favorite tv channels include Cartoon Network, Nick, Disney and Fox.
I hate fast bugs
I enjoy the great taste of Miracle Whip
I make a mean Deviled Egg
I love cats
Cats love me
I am fascinated about the reaction between foil and microwaves
I have cell phone
Im a Pisces
My Dean is Mr. Tarjan
I have an english teacher. Her name is Mrs. Hsing
I like jokes.
Why did the gum cross the road? It was stuck to the chicken's foot!
An old man was dancing next to a bridge singing "Om Fa Om Fa 23 23 Om Fa Om Fa 23 23" and a stranger passes by and asks him why is he singing. The old man throws the stranger over the bridge and into the water and sings "Om Fa Om Fa 24 24 Om Fa Om Fa 24 24".
I like spongebob
I want to add meta tags to this site.
Blogger doesn't allow it! :(
I want to add a custom cursor.
Wah, blogger wont let me :(
I like ASCII
ASCII is art in the form of characters generated by the computer.
ASCII isn't hard, but you need practice, determination and strong will.
Who am I kidding, ASCII is HARD!
I have some ASCII at the top of the page.
Now I don't, it was deformed so I got rid of it.
My list almost 70.
Im using ol and li tags while everyone else is writing out their numbers one by one! HA
Help!Ican'tfindthespacebar!
Oh, here it is.
Welcome to the world of tomorrow!
Life without almonds is like... life without almonds!
I like ~~Eggs~~, no wait, ~~homework, Sneezing~~ Ugh, deciding what I like is tough.
What is the capital of Springfield?
Dear Abbey, Whenever I drink water, my throat gets wet. What should I do?
*Sniff, I did'nt get an answer back.
George Dubayah is too cool.
A hundred waves are like 3 dozens.
Whenever I cut my oragami, it won't come right. It comes out in tatters. I wonder why.
I am no good at keeping promises about certain punctuation marks ----> .
This list was really challenging and helped me develop as a person.
YAH RIGHT!
Mrs. Hsing is the bestest teacher. Now where is my Extra Credit?
Why did the orange stop halfway down the hill? It ran out of juice!
She ate the whole box!
Isn't it sad when clowns cry?
A picture says a thousand words, but a telemarketer gets payed for it! HA not funny.
Alas, my time spent with this list shall soon come an end.
Like all good things.
Sadly, all good things must come to an end.
Except oranges.
They last forever.
Or not.
What is a prisoner's favorite punctuation mark? The period, because its the end of his sentence!
I have less than ten list items left.
Now even less than before.
I don't want to end this list.
I like shampoo.
Would you like to know the meaning of life?
The meaning of life
is:

The Beating Of The Planks

2004-02-03T06:24:00.000-08:00

Perhaps I am overreacting as I share with you my tale of woe, but nervous, very, quite dreadfully nervous I had been and am; but why will you say that I am mad? This disease had sharpened my senses, not destroyed, not dulled them. Above all was my sense of hearing acute. I could hear all things in the heaven and in the earth. I hear many things in hell. How then am I mad? Hearken! and observe how healthily, how calmly, I can tell you the whole story.

It is impossible to say how first the idea entered my brain, but, once conceived, it haunted me day and night. Object there was none. Passion there was none. I loved the old woman. She had never wronged me. She had never, not once given me an insult. For her Jewlery and fine lace I had no desire. I believe it was her eye. Yes, that was it. One of her eyes were that of a raptor--a filmy dull green eye. Whenever its gaze fell upon me, my blood ran cold and by this, I decided very gradually, quite gradually indeed, to take the life of the old woman, and rid myself of the eye, for now and forever.

Now at this point you must fancy me mad. Madmen do not know. But you should have observed me and my actions. You should have seen how cunningly I proceeded -- with caution -- with foresight, with what guile as I went to work. I was never kinder to the old woman than during the whole week before I rid myself of the eye. Every night around midnight I turned the latch of the door and opened it. So gently. So quietly, so as not to disturb her peaceful slumber. Once I had made an opening sufficient for my head, I put in a closed dark lantern, shut so that not a ray of light shone out. I thrust in my head and oh! you would have laughed to see how cunningly I thrust it in!

My head moved slowly, very slowly, so that I might not disturb the old woman's sleep. An hour later I had placed my whole head within the crack so far that I could see her as she lay upon her bed. Ha! would a madman have been as wise as this? When my head was well in the room I undid the lantern quite cautiously -- so cautiously -- cautiously as the hinges creaked. I dared to open it so much that a lone thin ray fell upon the raptor eye. I did for seven long nights. Every night. Just at midnight. Alas, each time I found the eye was closed, and it was impossible to do the work, for it was not the woman who vexed me but her Evil Eye. Every morning, when the day broke, I went boldly into the chamber and spoke brightly to her, calling her by name in a hearty tone, and wondering how she had passed the night. So you see she would have been quite a profound old woman, indeed, to suspect that every night just at twelve, I looked in upon her while she slept.

The eighth night I was even more than normally cautious in opening the door. I smiled as I realized a watch's minute hand must have moved more swiftly than did mine. Never before I felt this. The extent of my own powers, of my keen perception. I could hardly contain my feelings of triumph. There I was opening the door little by little, and she not even to dream of my secret deeds and thoughts. I chuckled at the idea, and perhaps she heard me, for she moved suddenly as if startled. You may think that I drew back -- but no. Her room was as thick with darkness, with shutters closed; fastened for fear of robbers. I knew that she could not see the opening of the door, and I kept pushing it on oh so steadily. So steadily.

I was in, and was about to open the lantern, when my thumb slipped on tin fastening from the lantern , and the old woman sprang up in the bed, crying out, "Who's there?"

I kept quite still and said nothing. For a whole hour I did not move. I did not hear her lie down. She was still sitting up in the bed, listening; just as I have done night after night. Listening. Listening to the death watches in the wall.

I heard a groan, and I knew it was the groan of mortal terror. It was not a groan of pain or of grief! It was the quiet stifled sound that arises from the bottom of the soul when filled with awe. I knew the sound well. Many nights, just at twelve, when all the world slept, it has welled up from my person, deepening, with its echo, oh so dreadful. I knew it well. I knew what the old woman felt, and pitied her although I chuckled at heart. I knew that she had been lying awake ever since the first slight noise when she had turned in the bed.

Her fears had been ever since growing upon her. She had been trying to believe them causeless, but could not. She had been saying to himself, "It is nothing but the wind in the chimney, it is only a mouse crossing the floor," or, "It is merely a cricket which has made a single chirp." Yes she had been trying to comfort herself with these excuses ; but she had found all in vain. All in vain, because Death in approaching her had stalked with his black shadow before her and enveloped the victim. And it was the mournful influence of the unperceived shadow that caused her to feel, although she neither saw nor heard, to feel the presence of my head within the room.

I resolved to open a little -- a very, very little crevice in the lantern. So I opened it -- you cannot imagine how stealthily I opened it. A single dim ray like the thread of the spider shot out from the crevice and fell upon the vulture eye.

It was open, and I grew furious as I gazed upon it. I saw it with perfect distinctness -- all a dull green with a hideous veil over it that chilled the very marrow in my bones, but I could see nothing else of the old woman's face or person, for I had directed the ray as if by instinct. Precisely. Precisely upon the damned spot.

Have I not told you that what you mistake for madness is really only over-acuteness of the senses? I say, there came to my ears a low, dull, quick sound, such as a watch covered in cotton. I knew that sound well too. It was the beating of the old woman's heart. My anger rose as the beating of a drum stimulates the soldier into courage.

I kept still. I scarcely breathed. I held the lantern motionless. I could steadily maintain the ray upon the eye. Meanwhile, I began to hear her heart. It grew quicker and quicker. It grew louder and louder. The old woman's terror was quite apparent. Louder at every moment! -- do you mark me well? I have told you that I am nervous and so I am. At the dead hour of the night, amid that old house, so strange a noise as this excited me to uncontrollable terror. For some minutes longer I refrained and stood still. The beating grew louder, louder! I had begun to think the heart must burst. And now a new anxiety seized me -- the sound would be heard by a neighbor! The old woman's hour had come! With a loud yell, I threw open the lantern and leaped into the room. She shrieked only once. In an instant I dragged her to the floor, and pulled the heavy mattress over her. I then smiled happily, to find the deed so far done.

For many minutes the heart beat on with a muffled sound. This did not worry me; it would not be heard through the wall. It ceased. The old woman was dead. I removed the mattress and examined the corpse. Yes, she was dead. Cold and beginning to stiffen. I placed my hand on the heart. I held it there many minutes. There was no pulsation. She was now dead. Her raptor eye would trouble me no more.

You still think me mad? You shall think so no longer when I describe the wise precautions I took for the concealment of the body. The night waned, and I worked hastily, but in silence.

I pulled up three planks from the flooring of the chamber. And after I had dismembered the corpse, I deposited all between the scantlings. I then replaced the boards. So cleverly, so cunningly. No human eye -- not even hers -- could have detected anything wrong. There was nothing to wash out -- no stain of any kind -- no blood-spot whatsoever. I had been too wary for that.

It was four o'clock -- still dark as midnight-- when I had finished the labors. As the bell sounded the hour, there came a knocking at the street door. I went to open it with a light heart, -- for what had I now to fear? Entered three men, who introduced themselves, with perfect suavity, as officers of London Yard.. A shriek had been heard by a neighbor during the night. The suspicion of foul play had been aroused and information had been lodged at the police office. The officers had been enlisted to search the premises.

I smiled, -- for what had I to fear? I bade the gentlemen welcome. The shriek, I said, was my own in a dream. The old woman, I mentioned, was absent in the country. I took my visitors all over the house. I bade them search -- search well. I led them, to her chamber. I showed them her treasures, secure, undisturbed. I brought chairs into the room, and offered to them to rest from their fatigues, while I placed my own seat upon the very spot . The spot where beneath resided the corpse of the victim.

The officers were satisfied. My manner had convinced them. I was singularly at ease. They sat and talked. I answered cheerily. They chatted of familiar things. Before long, I felt myself getting pale and wished them gone. My head ached, and I fancied a ringing in my ears; but still they sat, and still chatted. The ringing became more distinct : I talked to get rid of the feeling: but it continued and gained definitiveness. At one point, I found that the noise was not within my own ears.

No doubt I now grew quite pale; but I talked more fluently, and with a heightened voice. The sound increased. What could I do? It was a low dull, quick sound -- such a sound as a watch; a watch enveloped in cotton. I gasped for breath, and yet the officers heard it not. I talked more quickly, but the noise steadily increased. I arose and argued about trifles, in a high key and with violent gesticulations; but the noise steadily increased. Why would they not be gone? I paced the floor to and fro with heavy steps, as if excited to fury by the observations of the men. The noise steadily increased. Oh God! what could I do? I foamed at the mouth. I began to rave and still the noise grew louder.

I swung the chair upon which I had been sitting, and grated it upon the boards. The noise continually increased. It grew louder -- louder -- louder! And still the men chatted pleasantly. They smiled. They laughed. Was it possible they heard not? Almighty Gawd! They heard! Yes, they must have heard; they must have suspected; they must had known.

They were making a mockery of my horror! Anything was better than this agony! Anything was more tolerable than this derision! I could bear those hypocritical smiles no longer! I felt that I must scream for fear of death! Now and again, now and again, and now and again. I could no longer take it.

"Villains!" I shrieked in a mad fury "I admit the deed! -- tear up the planks! It is the beating of her heart! Her hideous heart!"

Day One

2004-02-03T06:18:00.000-08:00

This is a sample post to test out my blog.