when we picked up the shovels

I had a conversation with Nate, wherein we talked about our old blogs, and read choice bits to each other, digging up things that should only surface in the presence of people you've let worse things surface in front of.  It also helped that it was two in the morning.

He pointed out mirror selfies I took when I was 14, and had a weird swoop thing going on with my hair, and I read, out loud, his old description where he called himself a "dreamy 16 year old."
There's a lot on these sites that says a lot about us.  It's an archive that contains things that I've forgotten, & certainly things I hope you've forgotten.  Yet, I allow those things to stay because I can't bear to get rid of them for fear that I would forget forever if ever I wanted to remember and suddenly couldn't, because the pages would be bare.  So, I continue to wonder if any of my friends, or anyone who might know me in some way has ever stumbled upon an old page out of curiosity, or to dig up something I've said.  I know I had opinions at the time, and I can't help but cringe at the thought of what they were, not even knowing the reality of them.  This thought, is, 100% very narcissistic, but that's what a blog is, right?  Valued narcissism from days of old, that has a value extending beyond that which you give it. Shared value. True Value.  The hardware of the internet. (Figuratively, & best understood if you don't have an Ace in your town.)

A few years ago, I used to blog on a page that was shared between myself and four friends. We would each post once a week, and our posts would be on a set theme. It was fun, of course, and it's made a pretty nice archive of what we were then. At the time, we would all talk a lot outside of the blog, so it was only natural that we took some of our thoughts and made them public in a place such as that.  However, it would be safe to say that group communication between all of us has deteriorated a bit.  Individual, not too much. Group? The Parthenon.
Here's the deal.  I can't help but wonder what it'd be like if we were to post there again.  To post there as we are now.  Is that healthy? Perhaps not, but it'd be interesting, and it would, if nothing else, add to the archives that are old blogs, serving as something to look at in a few more years, like a really, really weird scrapbook.

Get out your shovels, dig & unearth old words. But, don't, please, don't be afraid to plant.

-Ranger

Summer Angst 2014 Pt. 1 of Many, at Least In My Head

For the past few summers, I've had this grand aspiration that I will have some sense of who I am bestowed upon me, that I'll be around a fire with friends and we will slip into a conversation that when I emerge gives me this knowledge it's foolish to want that easily.

It's while sitting in the swing in my backyard, cold, tired, that I wonder more than I have this year what I am going to do in these months.
Right now I find myself struggling to keep this post feeling the same from beginning to end, to be consistent, I guess. I'm piping music into my ears. "Killin The Vibe" is one of the tracks. Ironic, because I am trying my hardest to keep from killing the vibe. Excuse me, Killin The Vibe. Really, I think I've brutally murdered the vibe with a Bag of Hammers.

But back to that false illusion of group realizations that comes about in YA novels and is very much a factual thing to those who do so little socializing that actual factual interactions with people in a fantasy void situation is a thing that is still very much foreign, therefore I exist solely on bitter tea, barbecue chips, and idealized everything.
I go days without leaving the house and that is fine but I cannot drive yet, with nobody but myself to blame and that is perfectly fine because it is good that I have nobody to blame. Besides, I'm so cheap anyway that I would not leave the house because gas. And putting on pants. Putting on pants is no fun. (Which is why I have two pairs of pants on right now?)

Every spring I tell myself that I will see friends, I will live out some movie, and as the summer draws to a close we will all have some sort of collective revelation as to how our lives will play out, or at the very least, we will somehow in that moment, or collection of moments figure out how we at least want our lives to play out, discussing our plans to make that a reality as the fictional night draws to a close. (Or until someone falls asleep.)

But as that probably won't happen, I have to think of what will happen. 

I will probably see my friends. I will probably spend time with my family. Those things, hopefully, will happen.  

I don't expect to live as if I am in a novel that is planned by the mind of someone else to appeal to the mind of everyone else, and I'm fine with that. I am so very glad of that. But if I do have an adventure, have excitement, I won't complain.

I hope you've had a good day, by the way. Thanks for reading this far. It means a lot to have people read this, and I hope that maybe something could be taken away from it?
If you can think of anything you'd like for me to talk about, there is a comments section below, so don't hesitate to post a thing there. 

Thank you. 

-Ranger

When It's Late and Ideas Don't Come but This Does

I don't mind the chill, honestly I don't, I just need to hear you make sounds sweetly as I flail around freely with deliberate intent, planned as one isn't to be had. You're like a banjo string and he's your bow and sometimes other strings get played but you, I wish so greatly to inform you, produce the sweetest melody and I wish so bad I could tell you that, to tune you and hear you bend to understand but I can’t. 

The skin, the sound in this place where your voice resonates provides for those who need it more than I, although that’s not true because I can convince myself of anything. Don’t let me grip your neck as we glide through this, dissipating as i watch you travel. 

Paper Gowns

I don’t think anybody goes to the dermatologist happy.
I mean, you have to strip down to your underwear and shiver in the cold, dead hospital air as a nurse takes pictures of you in said questionably disrobed state, marking the dots upon your back with her eyes, great intent for your dermal demise gleaming within them.
I arrived this morning to find that the office had moved from its previous location, so my deep and intense knowledge of the office from that one time I came with my parents many years prior was washed away and irrelevant.
Perfect.

My mother was called back first, leaving me to discuss things with the receptionists, who had previously been discussing cysts that had not been properly drained on patients who I assume are now moderately famous in the social sphere surrounding this delightful department.

As I was sitting, happily tapping away at my iPod like some stereotypical teen in a commercial advertising safe texting, i.e. not driving, a receptionist leaned over the formica countertop, and asked if I was on any medication. “Uhhh…” I managed to reply. Better than my usual stare.
"Well, do you have allergies?" (She was very helpful on my journey to self discovery.)
I replied telling her that I believe I am on Zyrtec, but I don’t know. It’s there, and I take it.
A+ answer.

"Do you smoke or chew tobacco?"
"I don’t think so." (Once again, fabulous reply.)
"Do you drink at all?"
"No ma’am, not that I’m aware."

I clearly know a lot about myself as evidenced by these answers.
Moments later I was to find myself in a room, instructed to take off my clothes and put on a gown with a thing that is supposed to be tied in the back. I didn’t realize that this feature was even there. It’s times like this that I am amazed by people’s ingenuity, you know? I mean, what a time to be alive, when the gowns have little things you can tie to show only select parts of
yourself.

The waiting continued for a good while, and it was at this time that I began to wonder what would be the end result of these reference pictures, should they take them.
Would they get sold to a creepy trucker for $50 a pop? Is that what my body is worth?

Obviously I don’t do well in small rooms alone. Unless it is my own, and I have a computer. Then I can express my greatest fears to my friends through the internet. It’s more comforting to complain to people who can’t physically walk away from you. They can just say they have to go eat or something and you would then have no reason to not believe them.

Then, it happened.
They came.
The reference pictures were taken, and I smiled and was polite.
All in all it was quite uneventful.


If anything, I regret not having a selfie with the dermatologist greatly. He looks strangely like Rainn Wilson. With white hair. He also sounds like Rainn Wilson. And acts. Just. Like. Him.  
Perhaps he labels his yoghurt?

But alas, as quickly as it happened, it was over, and I was once again sitting in the waiting room, my mother finishing paperwork as I pored curiously over the pamphlets displayed for me to admire, and I guess learn from.

“Oral retinoid therapy.” (I’ll have to google this, because I’m curious now.)

“Young people and psoriasis.” (Should I ever feel flaky, I’ll read this further. Or maybe I won’t… or will I?)

“Hair loss and restoration.” (If I should lose my magnificent mane I will not be needing a slip of informational paper to console me. I will take much more drastic measures.)

And then there was one simply called “Warts.”   (I can’t completely say this wouldn’t be worth looking at.)

Let my tale of the dermatologist comfort the souls of all of you. May your skin be clear, and your moles be ever so consistent as I have been told mine are.

Have a good rest of your day.

-Ranger. 

let me write about you

Let me write about you.

Let my mind that won't shut up hold its tongue as your presence provides an escape I must apologize for. 

Remain silent, hum softly, be, and let me write about you. 

Let my muse borrow yours for a while and watch as they run off to go do something i can't imagine but feel physically so vividly as the power to be more than in the precise moment escapes both of us. 

Literally i beg you let me fill my head with air and scrawl my treasured nothings upon the yellowed paper dredged up from a basket of professionalism. 

Can I hum along too because i rather like the song that swirls around your mind. (And when I do get around to writing about you I promise that I will let you peek, but I don't want to because then I think you'll want yourself back.)

Thank You.

Today I am using this place for the rightest of reasons. 

Today the internet lost a pioneer and a good friend. 

And that seems like such concrete fact. 

I should say who it is I am talking about, too. 

Mr. Peter Oakley, perhaps better known as geriatric1927 was, and in a sense, still is, one of the most influential YouTubers, as well as someone who inspired and encouraged me to create and write and make music and to keep doing whatever it is that I do and upload it to the internet to somehow be shared. 

And I didn't get to properly thank him. 

But then I know that even if I did, I still wouldn't feel as if I did. 

And that says a lot. 

I don't really feel sad. 

Of course I feel sad for his family, and I will miss him, but I don't feel sad. Not in a way that perhaps I should. 

Had I known Mr. Oakley in a world where he didn't have his YouTube channel, I would be incredibly sad, in a way that perhaps I should. 

I would feel that the world had lost someone, a perspective filled with history forever. 

But I don't feel that way. 

His YouTube channel has 434 videos. 

Videos in which he tells his life story, from the past and to the present, an archive from someone who was so honest and genuine and kind to so many that even now his creations can inspire others to do the same, to get those who they want to share, elderly or young, to  make accessible their lives. 

To make the world perhaps better. 

To make knowledge truly global. 

To make personal lives shown honestly and truthfully to others in a way that will give an understanding of connection in a connected world of disconnect. 

To simply be, and still inspire. 

I think that is what the internet is for. 

On so many levels I feel that and I know it has its seedy underbelly and things that are damaging to all involved and yet I forgive it wholly because there are so many great things and people and things that can build us up and cause us to crumble and stories that will sweep us up and reconstruct us and anything imaginable. 

Things that without people like him, would not exist. 

Thank you, Peter, for all that you did, have done, and continue to do. 

-Ranger. 

different

Something feels different and i don't like it ---

i don't like that the sameness feels different.

i don't like that i know that the sameness feels different, 

different than the actual different which is me shoving you out of a chair in the middle of the night, spinning around, tripping over stuff we dropped wherever we felt with a pillow draped over my head while wondering how horses sleep that way. 

It's different than hearing you read things i adore that make me smile weirdly like every character of so many books that i hate, hanging onto every syllable that you let slip forth from wherever it is you get those words. 

This difference hurts because it's not sameness no matter how much i want it to fit the label of that weird clump of letters, because i'm too damn scared to see if it will, so i'll just let it exist as it has and hope that when i'm ready to peel that sticker it'll stick. 

Oh look, a blog post.

I wish that I knew how to blog in a way that doesn't seem like I am blogging, but rather blog in a way that is me speaking to you and you listening to me speaking to you so fluid like the words of someone you love that you don't think you'll ever see, trickling into your ears like syrup or something you find delectable, stickier than this prose that is not. 

I guess I could try that here.  It is possible that I will be able to make words you will enjoy and share, and return to consume. But, it is more highly possible that my lack of grammatical skill and shoddy syntax will leave you with a lingering bad first impression. 

I will of course cling to the hope that something comes of this though. 

Know that if you do find yourself following this page, I might potentially persuade others to contribute, preventing you from having my presence flow onto your feed whenever my hands feel inclined to slap they keyboard in a manner pretentious enough for this site held dear to those who post tea mugs, fandoms, and blogs with yiff in the name to sound edgy, not to mention the blogs that contain all of these things in the same post containing only one image drawn by a single hand. 

This is a blog with a layout blander than a hospital wall, the contents resembling an OIan Mills background. 

This is a blog on which I wish I knew how to blog. 

-Ranger. 

hai

swggity swupdate it's an.. update?
that didn't work.

Novelistic thoughts; or where big words attempt to impress.

Although it probably just seems really silly, I think I have a fear of dying alone.   

That's it.  I don't want to die alone.         

Another thing is that I surround myself with too many thoughts like these when I am alone.  I can't let them take over my mind, so I have to find someone to take them away from me.  Yet, it seems like when they leave me, they return them as if they are a morbid memento of what once was, as a parting gift, and when I open up the box that holds them, I find out that they have multiplied.

~A small sliver of my novel, still a mere collection of words yet to be completed.

-Ranger.

I treat my friends like mismatched tile cleaner bottles.

This was originally written on an iPod touch in the middle of the night, so that should tell you a bit about the state of mind that I was in when writing this.

As of the time of, well, writing this, I'm about 1/3 of the way into The Perks of Being a Wallflower.
A great book, or at least, it is so far.
I've been told that it is sad, which I don't doubt it is, because it has had some sad moments that seem to...draw me in...that make me feel like I can relate and sympathize.
The way the family gathering was described reminded me of my own family gathering experiences, albeit with less alcohol and abusive remarks. I'm talking about the way Charlie felt awkward in that situation, mostly.

As a preface to this part of the post, I would like to start out by saying that I am one of those people that would love to be OCD and organized but at the same time has no idea about how to go about that whatsoever. As Adrian Monk would say: "It's a gift...and a curse." And as I would add, "a hellishly annoying one at that."

I think what I am getting at is that I also apply this to people probably more than I should.
I don't like this at all.
I find myself wanting to categorize friends, often unfairly, sometimes paring down on my contact with people I would like to, deep down, talk with all the more.
And then, at the same time, I find myself forcing my presence onto my friends that I might not even want to talk with all that much, or even be around, for that matter because I simply want to achieve this perverse sense of symmetry.

I can't think of any good ways to describe it. Are there benefits? It doesn't help me keep or make friends.

I guess it's something for me to think over, and maybe you guys can...see if you do this.

-Ranger

Extruding prose like icing from a frozen pastry.

I often wonder how normal it is to stress over each paragraph written.
I am a perfectionist, and if I don't become happy with something I have created, I either destroy it or never do anything with it.
This is sort of relavent to me at the moment because I am going to be 15 very, very soon.
And I sort of had a pseudo-conversation with a friend about this, but for some reason I can't help but feel like I am going through some humorous existential crisis.
As selfish as it sounds, I can't help but regret not doing something...notable until now.
Does anyone else share similar feelings?

So today I have been sick.

this once was a post

now it is not

Christmas 2012

Hello!   It's been a while since I've talked to you all.   Way too long in my opinion.   Over the past week or so I've been filming and editing this year's Christmas video.   It's let me see the Holiday from a 3rd person perspective, which is neat, and I've been able to capture some memories, which seem to be flying past quicker than ever.  People are getting older, close family friends seem to be dropping like flies, and the whole...season has felt sort of..sad.  But the video I made tries to capture this year in a happy light.  So, without further ado, I present it to you.


-Ranger ^^;

New MySpace?

Well, the new MySpace layout was just pumped out to users worldwide, to the excitement of many. And at first I was skeptical, unsure of whether I would even enjoy this radical change.
After just 5 minutes with the clean layout and the new side scrolling design, I was hooked, posting statuses one after the other, and just now, I've changed my cover photo.

Unlike the old MySpace...this feels...natural.  It feels like it should have all along, or at least in my opinion anyway.  Although, I don't think this extreme minimalism would have been all that popular back, oh, say, 5 years ago, when FaceBook was beginning to usurp what MySpace had.

Another thing that seems to be changing the site is it's people, mostly creative people who have a great dislike for FaceBook, and want to use something radically new.  This is much better than what we have seen in the past, which was primarily 16 year old girls with hair extensions and duckfaces with emo friends.

It's quite the refreshing change from what the normal social network is.  

Have any of you joined?

If so, come nag me on my page!  CLICK HERE
It's a public page so feel free to post comments on my posts.  I'm on there quite a bit, so I will reply in a timely manner to most things.

----------------------------------

In other news, I made an intro of a sort for my videos.

It took quite a while to edit, actually, and it's only half finished.   Oh well.


Thanks for reading.

-Ranger ^^

((As an added bonus, I present to you some doodles I have done on an iPad))

Holiday Hair-Fail.

Every year, often the weekend after Thanksgiving my mother begins dragging out the holiday decorations. For many this is an incredibly happy time, for me this is a time in which I want to crawl up in a corner and hide.  You are now probably wondering why this is...and if you're not, you need to leave, because thats what this post is about. Well, from years past, I have been the subject of quite a few Christmas Tree ornaments that consist of a creative little frame, usually implementing my head/face in some sort of way.     Now, go look at the title, and look back down.  Yup. That's right.

 This picture to the right is from 2002.  I was in preschool, and the picture "frame" is an angel shaped paper plate creation thingy.
If you notice, the hair I was donning was...rather...bowl ish. But not like a normal bowl, but instead, it's...sort of like a pitcher.  And there may or may not have been a rat tail back there.

 We're going to jump 2 years right now, and zoom on over to 2004 for this photo. At this time, I had met a large amount of my current friends, and I was 6 years old.  I was as happy as a homeschooled clam who had just met a bunch of his long-term friends and all could be.  (Seriously, I still keep in touch with about half of the people from my 1st grade class on a weekly basis.)  But that's beside the point.  Let us discuss this hair. This was basically a shorter version of what I had in the previous picture, but with crooked, thin, and strange bangs and a little fluffy thing on the side.



Next we have yet another 2 year jump, bringing us to 2006, the year

in which I was 8.  Here we have...A variation on a theme, for the only noticeable difference is my hair colour.
I wish I had taken some pictures from the odd numbered years...I always had short hair in those.

Welcome to fall of 2006.  Here we have quite the mutation from what we saw before. This, my friends is full blown helmet hair, something that takes...I don't know what to achieve. If both ends of it were a bit more extreme I'd have Billy Ray Cyrus packing and feeling jealous of MY hair.

 ANNNDDD....this. This is 2008.
I can't...///

 And just for reasons I have my little brother looking like the joker. (2008 as well)

 AND. As a finale, we have my christmas tree..which...for some reason...shakes. 0.o

'















-Ranger

Holiday Irony and More.

That video.  Yeah, that one up there. Why don't you click on it, it's got my friends and I in it.   That's usually enough to get you minions to click on the nonsense I upload, right?
If not, I'm going to have to rethink a lot of things.  And that would involve actual work, wouldn't it. Yeah...not going there.   Not to say that I'm a very lazy blogger, I'm just quite tired at the moment and don't feel like opening final cut again and re-editing the video.

In other news, or lack thereof, tomorrow is Thanksgiving, and, provided that we can all ignore the Nicole Westbrook song that was recently dropped on our unforgiving ears, we should be able to get on with the day like any other normal human would.
And, while we're on the subject, was the black guy in that turkey suit from the aforementioned video the same guy that was creepin' the limo in "Friday"?   Coincidence, I think not.

Yesterday I went to a local mall, spending about half an hour perusing the Apple Store.  This usually leads to many things.  First, I stare blankly at my now 3 year old iPod, partially hiding it from the employees in shame, whilst part of me wants to hold it in the air, proud of having it so long.   The latter applied when I proudly brought my then 12 year old laptop to the genius bar one day.     Now my current computer is only 2 years old, and compared to what I used in the store, it's already feeling sluggish.  Either I have a virus, or Apple's reality distortion field is kicking in, big time.
Even my dad fell in love with the new iPad 4.

After that portion of the outing we made our way to the Whole Foods, which, for someone who has to eat Gluten Free is a dietary Mecca.  Need I say more?

There wasn't a whole lot I did after that, so, I leave you, with a short sub par post, and the hopes that I will film my family's antics, or lack thereof tomorrow on the holiday in which we are supposed to give thanks, but instead pass out on the couches of relatives with a headache and a burnt hand from when *insert relative here*  dropped that pot of coffee on you.

Thanks for reading, and supporting my internet existence, or whatever it is that you do.

-Ranger :3

Reddit Discussions

So this post is going to be a bit different than usual, focusing more on the interaction of the readers, rather than me sitting, trying to think of something to post.  These questions were submitted to the blog from Reddit, a very popular internet locale built upon content sharing and intelligent discussion...well, for the most part it is intelligent.

If you want to be part of these discussions, and have your topics featured on this blog for me to elaborate on them, and bring them into the spotlight, submit your thoughts and ideas to discuss with others on our Reddit HERE.

Well, if you had given me a bit more information, maybe I could have taken this one seriously. Honestly, the only reason I allowed this one to go up here is because it will lighten the mood, hopefully  preventing the rest of you from being driven away like angry little beings. 

Before I depart from this question, you should go on your local craigslist and once you're happy, come back with something truly thought provoking. 

Mastry, I applaud you for your questions!  These are just what I was looking for when I created that post.
This topic, and point that you have made, frustrates me. Not your views, of course, but the way that the rest of the world acts about this, as you have pointed out.

From the research I have done, I have noticed that there are no middle grounds when regarding the treatments and resources available.  It's as if everyone has severe autism, or is nearly lacking in symptoms altogether.  
And the few resources available for, well, anyone afflicted with this are very... poorly constructed, in the sense that the treatments are like placing a stick on bandage on a gunshot wound.

I could bombard this post with links, but I would like to cut this off here, and allow the discussion to continue in the comments.

Thanks for the topic!

I too have noticed this, and it's quite annoying to think about the fact that people have become too impatient to sit down and enjoy a story, or even a biography.  I think part of this is because of how readily available immense amounts of diverse content has become.   Think about it, 30 years ago, sometimes the only way to gather information on someone you might be studying about on a report  was to sit down, a mug of tea in hand, and plow through an entire book about said person.   With today's resources, we have tools like Reddit, Wikipedia, Yahoo Answers, and many others at out fingertips, therefore making the immediate need for prolonged attention spans less necessary. Although, I feel that those who are that way will see soon enough that it will come back to bite them.  

Thanks for the topic that you have provided for this post. 

Click here to go to our reddit where you can leave topics and questions, and carry out these discussions with others.

-Ranger :3

Fleshy Thoughts with a segway into Menially Mundane Musings.

Provocative titles are quite entertaining, are they not?
Well, at least sometimes.
It's rather humorous to see how your mind immediately reacts to such titles, for sometimes you perceive them as completely innocent, and other times you view them as hilariously inappropriate.
I am sorry to announce to you that this time it is quite innocent, for this post will focus on ideas, and how to stretch some skin across them, subsequently fleshing them out.

Over the past week or so, a creative dry spell has been broken, the jar containing its contents bashed upon the ground like a ship carrying secrets is dashed upon the rocks, spilling the contents into the ocean.
I have been bombarded with ideas, which is a wonderful thing, an idealogical godsend.
To a certain extent.
What I mean by this is that I am now befuddled by the copious collections of thoughts traveling, making their way across my brain all willy nilly, and with this many epiphanies erupting all at once, I have no way to effectively prioritize and organize them.  As silly as this seems, for me, at least it's true. Yes, I could write them all down, and then go from there, but unless I comb through every single idea and ride that horse into the ground, I will never know the full importance of it.  Lets say...each idea contains 5 tasks, and each task takes 48 hours to complete...and I have 67 ideas.   (That's not true, but at least it serves as a good example.)   So, I now have no choice but to trek through these potential creativity caverns in hopes of finding something good.

Now, I know what many of you are thinking, I WILL be able to know what the really bad ones are, just by thinking about them for about 5 minutes.

And this is now the perfect segway into the second realm of this post.  

People who feel the need to tell the internet and their friends every little thing they have ever done just because they feel like it is a good idea because of reasons unknown to the majority of the people that they are around. 

I know I am not the only one bothered by this, and I have caught myself participating in this horrid act quite a few times, which is, I guess slightly justifiable since I bide my spare time building an internet audience that is here partly because I am some sort of an internet personality.  (Which puzzles me quite a bit, since I rather lack a personality.)

One thing that I would like to clarify, is that this rant only truly applies to those who feel the need to post every single mundane task or everyday emotion that they encounter, racking up 10+ posts each hour.  COME ON. We've all felt that way before.  

Now one group of people that this doesn't really apply to is the daily vlogging crowd out there, because they usually know where to draw the line so that things stay interesting, like the ShayTards, or CTFxC.
These are two of the top daily vlogging channels, and I think that these people that post all too much, could learn a lot just by watching 1-2 videos from each channel.

That said, I shall end this rant, and go on with my life.

Thank you for reading, and if you want me to write something for your site, shoot me an eMail at bytemindedbrain@aol.com and we'll work things out, and I'll have a post ready for you within your given time constraints.  (Also, I can work much faster if you can set a few post guidelines/think of what it is exactly you want me to post.)

-Ranger :3

For once...a tag that doesn't itch.

TAGGED BY Nate and Lilly

Rule 1: Post the rules

2: Answer the questions the tagger set for you and then make 11 new ones.

3: Tag 11 people and link them to your post.

4: Let them know you have tagged them.

Theowlofgallifrey’s Questions:

1:If you had to choose one event in time and change the outcome, what would it be and how would you change it?
This is an odd question, for if I changed anything but the present, I could majorly screw up the future.
Which would be bad...if the "future" is now...and...I might wind up not being born. Any real Time Lord Sunflower would have thought that one through. ;)

2: If you could live one day in the life of anyone (fictional or not), who would it be?
Well, I am...very...reluctant to adapt to new things in general, so having to live the life of someone else would be weird. Very weird. I'd hate it.

3: Where do you hope to see yourself in five years?
First of all, the fact that I will be 19 then is rather horrifying to think about at the time. But I hope I will be well into college, and maybe even close to being done. I also hope that I will be in good health, not burn any bridges with the girl I adore, and have a good job.

4: What would you title your memoir?
In which I actually thought for a second that people would want to read about me. 

5: What was the first book you truly “read” on your own after learning how to read?
Charlotte's web, I was 3, and I loved it. 

6: What’s your biggest fear?
Right now...it's that I'm going to say something...that will...hurt someone I love very much.

7: Do you ever wish you were famous?
Not in a normal sense, because I can't change myself that much for other people...because I do have a little bit of self respect, contrary to popular belief. 

8: Do you play an instrument?
Yes, the Violin and Mandolin, and I want to try the Guitar, Bass, and Piano, so that I can flesh out my creations to a more refined point.  I have so may ideas floating around that if I could, on my own, at least begin to stretch some skin on their musical skeletons, It'd be very nice.

9: What’s one book you wish they’d turn into a movie?
None.  How about that. They always get ruined. Now, if you want to give me 1,000,000 quid and some willing actors, I might agree to making a movie after a book.

10: What is one of your favorite childhood memories?
Well, I quite enjoyed trips to the Alabama coast, where I would get up to all sorts of sand coated shenanigans.

11: If you could teleport anywhere in the world at this very moment, where would you teleport to?
I think 90% of you know where I'd go...now tell me what you think in the comments. 

PaperDollBox’s Questions

1. What Do You Wanna Be When You Grow Up
Well, I hope that I will be content, yet, content in a way that makes me want to strive to be better. 

2. What Planet Would You Live On If You Could Choose.
Gallifrey  ;)

3. Top 2 Favorite Names (One Girl One Boy)
Why are you asking me this?   *noodly arms* 

4.  Whats Your Favorite Scent and Why?
Nothing...clean nothingness. 

5.  Whats You Spirit Animal and Why?
Any animal that is sarcastic and is a sociopath.

6. Whats You Favorite Outfit?
Whatever is clean.   AKA Blue wool socks, camo crocs, blue jeans, a random T shirt and a weird hat.  

7. How Many Fingers Am I Holding Up? (hehehehe)
1.  The third finger from your left on your right hand. 

8. When Do You Think You Will Be 100% Happy?
How will I ever know if I am? 

9. Favorite Type Of Ice Cream 
Mint Chocolate Chip or Cherry...with the cherry bits, because one of my favourite childhood memories is when I'd walk over to my Great Grandmother's house in the summer, and she'd put down whatever garden tool she was using, and get us some cordial cherry ice cream from her well-stocked freezer. 

10. If You Could Have One Super Power What Would It Be?
To choose infinite super powers.

11. (Stealing This One) What Tattoo Would You Get If You Had To?
Something nasty written to someone in Circular Gallifreyan.

Ranger’s Questions

1. What is your favourite website? 
2. What is your favourite sound?
3. What is your favourite type of music?
4. Who is the one person you could be around for weeks on end and not get annoyed?
5. Do you like...TURTLES? 
6. What is your least favourite book that you have read? 
7. Do you have any siblings? 
8. What is one of your phobias? 
9. Mac or PC? 
10. What’s your favourite video game? 
11. Where do you like to go on holiday?

PEOPLE I'M TAGGING.  

(click the links to go to their pages)

~To those I have tagged:  Leave links to your finished posts/videos in the comments below, and I will add them to this post~

ALSO---Lilly and Nate, consider yourself Re-Tagged, even though you asked me these to begin with.

Ejler  (Bettenetzner Studios) 

Zane  (MindlessGuyStudios) 

Zealun (SmileyZdude) 

Elizabeth (TheJabberwocksDen)

Virginia (firebreathertheodore.tumblr.com)

Michael (hackerue.com)

Ryan  (Kdude900   on reddit)

Lindsey (aefs.tumblr.com)

Marina (slap-that-vessaliass.tumblr.com)

Jennifer (youtube.com/magiccatjenny)

Ellen 

(Lovely Wanderlust Dreams) 
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I hope you all enjoyed this tag!    

Feel free to do this tag, and post your adaptations in the links below, even if I haven't specifically tagged you.   I TAG ALL OF MY READERS. 

VIDEO FOR THE TAG:

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-Ranger :3