Ode to a ranch, house. Or Much can happen in twelve years (Tuesday, July 22, 2008 at 6:19pm)

When I wrote this I started with the intention or reflecting what I've done the past twelve years of my life, but it ended up pretty much being my life story. I warning you that this is much longer than you will want to read, if you make it all the way through I commend you. Also, this contains some personal stuff, so if you've never so much as talked to me, this will be of absolute no interest. And also due to the personal content, this makes up for everything I've never told you, and also, don't judge me I don't judge you. Enjoy.

In this house…
I have grown up, learned about life, discovered my beliefs, defined who I am and learned to be comfortable with it.
I have watched more TV than some people do in a lifetime, starred in and directed my first movies, and learned that there is music outside of the radio.
I have learned about sex and drugs and what really goes bump in the night, I saw and heard things I cannot comprehend, and I learned to learn from others’ mistakes.
I have been a millionaire in this house, I watched my family fall apart, I became a child of divorce, I watched this, coupled with corruption, bring me back to my original wealth.
I have learned to ride a bike, how to swim, I used these skills to bike for miles and swim for hours. I fell off my bike and was attacked by bats in the pool.
I have scraped my knee, possibly broken a toe, and almost blew off a few fingers. I was hit int the with a fireplace tool, and hit in the temple with a baseball.
I have watched my first good friend move away, with many others to follow suit. I learned what a good friend is by being let down by so many, and tried to practice it daily.
I have lost trust in others while learning to be a human vault, keeping every secret I’m told inside, and most of my own as well. I learned not to judge and try to give what council I can, always with the disclaimer that I can be wrong.
I have learned to hate my sarcasm, but fail to correct it. I tried to become serious but always landed back on silliness. I tried to change myself to become the role-model my heart desires to be, but my brain hates my heart.
I have had my first girlfriend and learned that I treasure friendship more than a relationship. I began to compare every girl to this one special someone, but learned that no one stands up, and given up dating because of it.
I have learned to take chances, least I want to be the break-up friend. I learned that I will forgive my friends, no mater how abused or abandoned they make me feel. I tried to find that one friend I can tell everything to, but cannot find the words to reveal my deepest thoughts.
I have been beaten and abused for someone’s entertainment, but still forgave until my forgiveness was gone. I have not only been beaten-up, but also beaten down for my looks, my weight, my hair, my clothes, my likes, passions, dreams, and personality.
I have discovered that I like to find my own path, I despised playing written music, but have suffered through it for seven years. I played trombone at an exceptional level until pressure killed the jjoy and the level diminished.
I have tried musical, visual, and intellectual creative outlets, all with little or no encouragement or even recognition. I have found my own ways of trying these outlets and kept the products almost entirely for myself.
I have made music in this house, one of the few things that I lose myself in. I created music that I have long forgotten and allowed most of it to die before reaching any foreign ear. I had my first musical instrument taken away from me because it was found annoying.
I have both excelled at math and slowly began failing at it. I went from academics being a top priority to putting them on the back burner. I tried to try again but found that for those that excel at it, it merely comes natural.
I have become the man of the house, having to do all the yard work and manual labor, after having two older brothers who helped out move out in a two month period. I enjoyed the quiet house, and my guitar playing flourished with more time with just my ears in the house.
I have been incredibly shy, just to become the opposite. I put on a different mask depending on who I was around, none of which I liked or have been able to change or get rid of. I found the person I am in my mind not to be the person everyone sees.
I have been addicted to instant messaging and online games. I found it easier to open up online than in person, which has brought much concernment. I have found it difficult to find those who can relate, in such a well-off suburbia.
I have fought, Communism, fascism, and PBS, with little to no avail. I have been idealistic and been disgusted by propaganda made by those trying to help. I tried to help in my own way, but found little support, only a few, truly good friends.
I have had many dreams and spent countless hours laying awake creating hypothetical scenarios of how something might turn out. I created entire conversations in my head, and learned that by thinking it, none of it will ever leave someone’s lips.
I have become slightly OCD, and learned how to manage and suppress some of what it entails. I washed my hands without worrying about it killing germs, but dirtiness. I became obsessive with my personal electronics, not to protect them, but to keep form others seeing who I am. I wasted much time creating shapes in my head with an odd number of lines, and used to not be able to do the Hooky-Pokey because I didn’t want to turn myself about, that’s what my OCD is all about.
I have seen and heard things I knew were not there. I tried to learn how to articulate when hearing everything as mumbled and unclear as it comes out of my mouth, all the while dealing with harassment for it. I watched as my eyesight slowly grew worse and had to stop playing baseball because of an eye condition, which wasn’t diagnosed until after humiliating strike-out after strike-out.
I have opened my home whenever my friends have asked or merely hinted, not always getting the favor in return. I have, however, showed up at peoples’ houses uninvited, something only a few have done for me.
I have had a few birthday parties, all of which were bad. I gave up on having birthday parties. I went to surprise party after surprise party for what seems like all of my friends. I wished that someone would do the same for me every time I attended one of them, and blatantly told some people so.
I have never had any substantial family traditions, or so much as been to a family reunion. I have never been on a family vacation just for vacation, always to visit family. I have sat in physical pain as people speak of being bored of exotic places that I can only dream of going to or comparing resorts, which is something I’ve never so much as set a foot in.
I have seen my over-active imagination completely die and have wished that I Could have some back for a little creativeness.
I have sang, danced, played, laughed, cried, sweat, bled, fallen ill, healed, lied, stole, cheated, been a bad friend, given good advice, lent a hand, listened when no one else would, stayed up late with friends, stayed up late alone, been happy and stable, been depressed and broken, told things to someone that I hardly knew I’ve never told anyone else or even knew about myself, changed a lot, thanked puberty many times for being so nice to me, learned to be thankful for everything, learned that everything that I truly want I can receive, solidified my faith, become disgusted with the Christian church, wanted to become the next Martin Luther, learned to understand why people are turned off by religion, shed my shell and burned it, been hypocritical, been electrocuted, been hit on by people seven years older, seen the scariest musical performance ever, had good memories, seen things I wish I could forget, written a list of just about every emotion I’ve had in the past twelve years, climbed to the top of the Statue of Liberty with someone who accidently brought a pocket-knife that didn’t set off the metal detectors, looked at the Twin Towers with awe and a desire to see them on the inside someday- three months before the attacks, played the guitar of my hero B.B. King, made good friends with an eight grader during my senior year, regretted, hesitated, made others laugh, done things I never thought I would ever do.
I have not done drugs, seen someone doing drugs, smoked a cigarette, been anywhere exciting except for England and Mexico, met a celebrity, been able to name all the major stars in any movie ever made, had sex, had a lasting relationship, felt love beyond family and friend love, been able to intentionally physically hurt anyone because my body turns to jelly when I try to fight, permanently vandalized anything, been completely honest with anyone- including myself, woken up feeling refreshed or awake, written anything like this before, listened to the lyrics of Zox’s song “Goodnight”- For the first time in my life I’m not afraid, because there’s nothing in this world that doesn’t change.
Sitting here, the last night in this house, in a near empty room listening to the rain hitting the roof, I can’t help but to reflect of what has happened in this house, as well as what has happened during the time I’ve lived in it. I have had some good experiences in this little house in suburbia, but also some very bad ones that some of you may be able to relate to, and some can’t comprehend what it’s like. But I realize everyone has their issues and I’m thankful I don’t know what it’s like to be like you. But then again if I don’t know it makes it harder for me to try to help you, which is a difficult task in the first place. The twelve years in this house comprise two0thirds of my life, all of which have been spent in Carmel. Isn’t it funny that I am the minority because I haven’t lived anywhere else? It’s usually the other way around.

Dearest reader, if you have made it this far or happened to stop here while skimming, I have a few last things I want you to know. I hate change; I just absolutely hat e and dread it and nothing in my life is the same as it was only a few months ago. I know I bashed my friends a lot in this note, but I love all of them and I doubt I am any better, back to me being hypocritical. In fact, dearest reader, I want to be closer friends with you. Yes you, whoever you may be, I want you to call met o hang out or just talk or send me a message or email me or whatever. Also for you phone shy folk, don’t worry so am I, I don’t mind if you call me for any sort of reason or small question, as long as it isn’t early morning or really late night. Also, as I sated earlier, I am a human vault; anything you eve r tell me will stay with me and I will not even mention the general idea of your problem to anyone even if I don’t give them your name. I have also been getting better at giving advice if you ever need any. I don’t give any guarantees but I do the best I can.

If you were never able to come to my house, I am deeply sorry, she is pretty awesome. For those who have, I hope you enjoyed it- now open your house because now we need a new default place to hang out.
As I bid my house farewell, I only hope that eh next twelve years are better, or that I at least meet as many interesting and awesome people.
-Kenny