Blog Entry for AILD

Darl’s character has a very important part in this story as a whole, using his “madness” as a way to narrate large portions of the novel that would only make sense to other wise be told from an omniscent narrator in third person. His strange and seemingly unnatural ability to understand and see into the minds and event of others allow him to know several key pieces of the story that have large effects on characters like Dewey Dell. Darl, having known Lafe got her pregnant, was able to make Dewey Dell fear for him telling Anse. Darl’s ability to narrate the entirety of Addie’s death scene as well was a hint to his strange ability and madness. He uses this knowledge to tell Jewel as they’re on their delivery trip, making Jewel very upset. Darl seems mostly unaffected by Addie’s death, as he sees this as her simply moving on. His insanity is finally acted on by the others when they discover he had burned someone’s barn in the end, which were his efforts to burn the coffin with Addie inside. This burning not only threatened the life of many farm animals, but caused Jewel to suffer horrible burns as he had went in to save Addie in her coffin, escaping from the burning fire. Darl was sent to Jackson for this, and in his final chapter, his insanity is made clear to the reader as he narrates this scene in both third and first person, talks of himself from the minds of his siblings far from him, and repeating the word “Yes” on his ride to Jackson.


Howdy. Why do I still have this app? I do not know. We used it once for a simple writing assignment at the start of the year. Then I did a leg giveaway. Still never got to give the winner the leg though. This has been a long night, but I’ll give it to them once I wake up. Oh, the horrors. And every little daydream that has followed. I haven’t counted, but I feel confident in the fact that I’ve been daydreaming this entire year. School year, that is. If not, I’ve spent at least a weeks worth of time dreaming. It’s march now. Pretty scared. Always scared. Constant fear. There’s only 3 months left and I’m not sure if I can handle the end too well. Things will come though. Good things? I can only hope. Bad things? I can surely expect. But I’ll be awake then. I’ve only so much time left to live out the dream. It’s funny, I think, that this is the final semester of my senior year. Of my high school experience. Of my entire school life. And it just so happens to be one of the most stressful. But maybe that’s because I’m currently in that stress. Maybe it doesn’t compare to earlier stress, but since that is gone, it isn’t as bad.

Did you know there’s more to graduation than just college? It’s crazy, I know. Maybe just plain stupid. I wish it were stupid. Ignorance is bliss, and my only wish is to live life in the comfort of someone’s arms. Speaking of which, love is a part of that life. I feel so stupid already, not logically, but emotionally, for pushing away opportunities involving love. Involving someone else. Nobody knows me too well, or I don’t think they do. But I’m super passionate. A dreamer. A lover. I have this strong desire to just be with someone. And I have this image, this perfect world, this daydream that I’ve been living out for such an insanely long time now, that there is someone for me. And that they’re flawed in only a way I can see them to be perfect. 9 long years. Or was it 7? I spent the majority of my life having a crush on someone. Puppy crushes and genuine love. Girls and guys. Very few people know that I’m bi. I’ll tell them eventually, if they don’t read this. If you are reading this, please keep it a secret for now. The closet is very comfortable. Did I mention these crushes were constant? I went all these years, non-stop, having this incredible love for someone. And then it ended. 10th grade. I felt so dead for so long. I had never realized what it meant that I couldn’t daydream of that special someone anymore. And that’s all I ever wanted to do. And still do. I just want to dream. Love. Hope. That’s what it was to me. Every stupid crush I’ve ever had was genuine, necessary hope. The hope that one day I’d have someone to wake up to and tell them I love them. And at night, I’d tell them the same. I lost that hope, that summer after sophomore year ended. I eventually got it back, but it’s been on and off. I just want that hope back.

I’m so scared of failure. Hell, I’m scared of everything. Look at me. Stupid, emotional, sensitive little crybaby. Stop hiding your feelings from everyone, Drew. Stop bottling them up. But how? I’ve got a big ass bottle. Haha. So funny. It’s been years. I like to think I’m good at hiding emotions. Really good, in fact. I’ve done it quite well. I cry, just not in front of people. Maybe it’s a fear of being seen as weak, but I don’t think it’s that. No. I want to be seen as weak. I let it be known that I’m weak. I want people to know about me and how I feel. It’s not fear of being seen as weak, it’s fear of being seen. Scared of judgement? Duh. Idiot. Scared of everything. Go ahead, name something you aren’t scared of.

Is it too cheesey to say I’m not scared of the dark?

Okay, so you’re scared of being seen. Then why are you doing this? Exposing yourself to whoever lurks in the dark on his website I haven’t touched in months. None of us have. Hopefully the random guy who followed my blog knows this was for an english class. I’m talking to my friends. Hi friends. Why am I doing this? I think I forgot. I just feel, I dunno, unerappreciated? Maybe that’s the word. Maybe not. It’s not a new feeling. Maybe it’s misunderstood. But I have to understand that it’s nobody’s fault but mine. I’m not understood because I don’t help people understand. I don’t talk to people. How will they understand if you never explain? Is that what this post is? An explaination? A very long vent, it seems. I think it will make for a great explaination. I want to be understood, but I hate the confrontational aspect of this. I will gladly throw up my troubles and emotions on a social media site for all the world to see, but I’m afraid I would literally throw up trying to speak in reality. I’m so bad at social things in general. I can’t hokd a serious conversation or interaction with someone for crap. I feel like absolute garbage because of my poor social skills, and I have no desire to fix them. I feel like I get across just fine if I can have the freedom of the internet to express myself. But I can’t in reality. I choke up and cry when I’m upset or angry, keeping me from speaking how I feel. I blush so freaking much when literally anything happens to me. I smile when talking about something bad, but I don’t want to. It’s so bad, and I can’t hide it. So i hide the conversation entirely. I don’t talk about serious topics because my body doesn’t allow me to. And then I daydream. I dream of the day when I can say with confidence and in a completely normal way that I love someone with my mouth. Or that I can speak to someone about their negative experience without a cheesey grin on my face. That I can tell someone why I’m so hurt without having to stop and swallow the tears. Maybe it isn’t my fault for bottling up my emotions. This bottle isn’t that big after all. It just has a really tight cap to keep the emotions inside.

There’s probably some typos in there. Not gonna read it all to fix them. This is a vent, not an essay. I don’t care if I screwed up, I just want to feel better. Get some things out of the way. It’s really funny just how much I wish people would read this and understand me, but I wouldn’t wish for a second that soneone knew all this about me. The second I post this, I will regret it. If someone is reading this, which I doubt greatly, don’t make me regret it more. There’s a reason I’m posting it here, where nobody from our class has been active for months. I am also praying that this doesn’t send out some kind of notif or email to everyone. That’s about it. If tou actually read this whole thing, I apologize for wasting time you could have used to do anything productive. I try to be genuine. It’s almost 1 in the morning. Thank God it’s a friday night. If someone reads this soon, they’ll probably forget it by the time they see me monday. I’m gonna drown out my constant fear of failure with my well developed, yet awful taste in music now. Maybe daydream to some songs.

You’ve discovered the world is a simulation.

You find out the world is a simulation. The discovery was shocking. You yell at whatever god- whatever creator- had lied to you. Profanities. In a fit of rage, you cry for freedom. This creator listens. This creator takes pity on you. This creator acknowledges your request.

They decide to set you free.

Things start to become nothing. Things that you would have called part of your world are no longer things to call on anymore. The clothes on your back. The grass under your feet. The signs on the street, and the cars under their rule are no more.

The place you called home. The places of true comfort. The music they made purely for your world. The aesthetic of everything. What you would have called artistic was only part of your simulation. Beauty has been removed.

Then they take the people. Slowly, your family starts to vanish. Neighbors, pedestrians, they all become nothing. Your closest friends. Your not-so closest friends. The person you were destined to find true love in. The people you weren’t. They slowly disappear from the existence that never existed to begin with.

You watch as the body you have grown to know fades. Your skin, limbs, body. Your size, your texture, your color. Every aspect of you was purely simulated.

And then yourself. You start losing interest in the things of the world, not because they are gone, but because you are too. Your personality begins to die as you, a person, are no longer a person. Your taste, your desire, even your emotions fade, thus being the reason you don’t cry when you realize your memories are dying too.

You wake up. Everything is unfamiliar. You see the people- the creatures that gave you the world you loved. That gave you the ability to love. You are now a part of the society they hid from you.

You found out you were being lied to. You asked for freedom. You are now free. Welcome to the real world.

I want to be a rock.

Just a rock. Wouldn’t that be cool? No stress, no responsibilities, no sadness, no loss or worry of loss, no anger. Nothing but the comfort of the ground to hold me up. Grass, soil, maybe even other rocks? It doesn’t matter. I lie on top of all of them the same. I get stepped on, but face no negative effects. I am simply a rock. No need for love. No need for dreams. Rocks don’t have dreams, therefore, they have nothing to work for. No work. Nothin’, I say. I’ll just be a rock and that is all.

It is Grandparent Day.

im going to be an old dude someday i guess. hopefully i will have a child by then. hopefully that child will also have child. maybe that smaller child will consider me to be a worthy enough grand parent. maybe the larger parent will conider me to be a good dad.

i wanna be a dad. i just like the idea. “haha hey dad that was a good joke you just told” “yes thanks son they are called ‘dad jokes’ i am glad you enjoy my company and less than decent taste in humor”

: )

Dorian’s game is weak.

Come on dude. I kind of expected you to be weak when you went fron a category 5 to a 2 in less than a day, but then you bumped back up to a 3? And made us all think you were actually something? But nooOooOo. Dude had to send tornadoes because he didn’t wanna touch us. Tornadoes, seriously? Leave that to kentucky. I’ve had my fair share of those and they weren’t anything either. Whatever. I was at least expecting a a flooded yard and the power to cut off. But you couldn’t even manage that? All I got was a flicker, and the ground is just wet. This is weak. Matthew, Irma, Florence. They were hurricanes. They knew what they were doing. But you couldn’t even budge Florida! Literally the easiest target, and you did nothing. They’re literally asking to be hit, and all you could do was a little bit of power loss and wind. Just sad. Poor Bahamas tho. They were just chilling. You could’ve left ’em alone. 1/10 worst hurricane experience yet. Only good thing did was make us buy more water. I was ready to lose power you pathetic little wind tunnel.