BUM buh.

Date: April 9th, 2011
Day of Week: Saturday
Location: Home
Countdown: 63

Well...it's Saturday. I woke up at 12pm, ate a bowl of cereal, worked out, recorded songs, washed/dried my clothes, and picked up my room a bit. Ahh...routines. Some would call this a productive day, no?
Why does it all seem so phony to me? Yes, it has to be done. Yes, I need to know how to do most of these things for college. Yes, they're the basic essentials of living on your own. No, they are not fun. No, they do not make me grow as a person.
How can it be so productive to my parents and seem like a fall-back to me?
I don't want to sound like a spoiled brat. I don't wish anyone else to do the work for me.
Maybe I'm thinking about it in the wrong way. Maybe I should try to think of what's beautiful, fun, or funny about it. Hmm...
Waking up - to start a new awesome day!
Eating - to have energy for the awesome new day!
Working out - to be better prepared for what this new awesome day brings me!
Recording songs - I don't mind this at all.
Doing laundry - to keep me warm and protect me (a little) from whatever weather or surroundings this new awesome day brings me! Also the funny sounds the machines make. They kind of sound like they're eating very loudly. It must be really good food. Mmmm, Casey's clothes...yummmmmmmmmmmmMMmmmMMmmMMM!
Picking up my room - ...to make my parents happy and not yell at me more!

There. I guess it's really not so bad after all!
Looking on the bright side is hard to do in the moment sometimes, because you get so tangled in the "details" of that moment and never take a step back to see it for what it is. The battle once again...DEFEATED! But still...it goes on!

I like to think of life like a heartbeat sometimes. Not only does it represent life, but symbolically it's fun to interpret the "pumps" in this way.
So a heart as two beats, correct? Well, a healthy heart at least. You first have the BUM and then the buh. Push and release.
The BUM represents doing the work, getting it done, the action aspects of life.
The buh represents relaxing, looking, perceiving, viewing, interpreting, the thinking aspects of life.
For example. Let's say (totally hypothetical, mind you) you build a house in a day.
You work.(BUM) And once you've finished, you pause and look at this thing of shelter, wonder, and hard work. You take a deep breathe and smile. (buh)
Once you've done the buh part, you are ready once again for the BUM!
But see...people these days tend to skip the buh. Which leads to getting so caught up in your work and completely forgetting about the beauty of life! Look! You just built a house! Instead of worrying how to furnish it and paint it and the DETAILS, just RELAX. Sit down and breathe and enjoy and live and feel and think.
When I was little, after doing something hard for me, I was always told to pat myself on the back. It first I thought it was stupid. Who cares? I did it. It's done. But now I always pat myself on the back.
HEY PEOPLE! YOU ARE NOT CONCEDED FOR TAKING PRIDE IN THE HARD WORK YOU DO! You are simply appreciating yourself! If you can't appreciate yourself, then you can't truly appreciate others. Because others are JUST like you. We are ONE, remember?

Here. I will appreciate myself. Not out because I want to show you, but because I honestly forgot to yesterday.

Hey Casey. Hello me! Good job yesterday! You finished a bunch of government work before the end of the quarter, had a GREAT senior talent show, and had a good lunch with a missed friend. At the showcase, your voice was clear and didn't sound a bit tired at all and you managed to do all songs with only one mistake! Even still, the people laughed at the mistake because you turned the mistake into a funny facial expression! Good job! After that you had a good night with your friends and had a really good nights sleep!
Life is good. Thanks me. I really appreciate it.

Now, if you feel so inclined...pat yourself on the back. Talk to yourself if you want! No ones looking!

BUM...buh.

There's a reason why the buh is lowercase. For the people who can truly appreciate themselves and the world...appreciate the buh as if it were capitalized.


Today I told my parents that on my 18th birthday I would be getting a nose piercing. Immediate yelling filled the room
"Why are you yelling!? What does it matter to you?! It's MY body. I waited 18 years to do something I want to do. 18 years for MY FREEDOM and you STILL want to control me!?" I thought. I SCREAMED inside my head.

"We're not paying for your college!" said my dad.
Out of spite, "Looks like I'm not going to college. Why do you care so much?"
"I don't really." shrugged my dad.
I looked at my mom. Her face distraught.
"Okay mom, why do you care so much?"
"Me? Why do I care? Because it's not right. I think people who get their noses pierced don't do it because they look nice, they do it because they want to say, 'Hey! Look at me! I'm so cool with my nose piercing! Oooo!'" She was yelling by the end of her shpeal.
"Why are you yelling?" I asked.
"I'm not!! This is how I talk!"
"Yea that's how she talks!" my dad agreed.
"Well...whenever I talk like that you tell me to calm down and stop yelling! Sometimes you even walk away from me!" I felt my heart pounding through my chest as I tried my hardest not to raise my voice.
"Okay well. So what?"
Moving on I begin "Well let me say this. It could go the same way for ear piercings! You have your ears pierced! Are you 'so cool' with your ears pierced?"
"No! I actually think it makes me look nicer!"
"Well, I actually think a nose piercing makes me look nicer! How is there a difference? It's preferences!"
"Look, Casey, you can't change my opinion!"
Opinions are meaningless, I thought.
"Mom, I'm not trying to! I'm just telling you why I wa-"
"WHY DO YOU WANT IT?" My dad cuts me off.
"Are you kidding!? I just told you!"
"I know why she wants it! She wants attention! It's all for show! It's all for attention!" my mom mocks me.
"What?!!? ARE YOU KIDDING ME!?" I feel my chin wrinkle and a warm tear run down my face. I look into my mom's cold, careless eyes searching for a spark of warmth or solace only to be blocked by a wall and drowned.

I don't know why I started to cry. I guess it was mostly that fact that I always tell them three words, "You never listen!"...hoping that they heard me and will start to listen. But as it turns out they didn't even hear that. Or maybe they don't care. They just want to be right. At all times. So they'll lie to themselves about how I'm a spoiled child and all I want is attention...

All I want is to be heard.


I'm proud of myself that I kept my voice down for so long. I'm proud that even though my mom will think less of my and think all I want is attention, I'm still going to get this nose piercing. Not only do I honestly like the way it looks, this hole in my body symbolizes my first act of honest
freedom.