~niedec

Hey guys.

Got back from a road trip to Disneyland with all of my friends recently. Here are some of the pictures from the trip: [link] I'll probably have more a bit later.

Also, I have a Facebook account now: [link]

It's just "Caleb Niederer" if you need help finding it.

In other news, I feel a bit melancholy. 4 1/2 to 5 out of 10 on my "how are you feeling" scale. Hopefully, that'll pass soon.

Also saw Batman. 'Twas excellent. The Joker was sweet.

Hi everyone. I said once I turned 18, I'd tell everyone my first and last name. The reason for the 18 rule is 1) I'm paranoid, and 2) once you turn 18, everything you sign is in your name. It's on-file. If you wanted to stalk me, you could do it whether I kept it a secret or not. So, since my cover's blown and I'm an adult now, I figured I'd mention it.

It's Niederer. Caleb Niederer. It's pronounced "Need-er." The extra "e-r" is in there for no reason whatsoever. Something about it being a Swiss pronunciation of a German name, or visa versa. That said, my username is pronounced "nee-deck." It's the first five letters of my last name plus my first initial. My old school ID name, minus the number they gave us pertaining to grade level. Not very creative, but I liked the way it sounded, it was easy, and it stuck.

Oh, and I have a lot more pictures from my trip to the Caribbean up on my flickr account. It's rare that I'm in so many photos, but at least now I have a current picture of me.

FLICKR ACCOUNT: [link]

EDIT: Oh, I decided to take 's advice and record myself reading a few poems. It's kinda fun. I'll probably do a few more of these (as well as redo "Destroy This Poem"'s performance.) Hope people like this.

[link]

EDIT AGAIN: okay. It should be working now. Don't consider this any sort of website I plan on making. I'm really just using it because DA doesn't support HTML and player embedding.

So, apparently, I was tagged by
These are the rules:

1. Post these rules.
2. Each tagged person should post 8 facts of themselves.
3. Tagged people should write a journal\blog about these facts.
4. In the end tag and name 8 people.

This seems unfair, since I've already shared facts before, most of which are way more personal than the ones I'll list here, but whatever. Here goes:

1. I want to be a writer, professionally. I refuse to take any other full-time job that would impede me from doing this. It's literally "write or die" in my world.

2. Connected to that, I'm a risk-taker, but you'd never know it. No, I will not ride the ferris wheel (childhood trauma.) No, I will not get drunk at a random party. No, I will not have casual sex just because I can. Thing is, most people are just asking the wrong questions. Yes, I'll probably get drunk with friends. Yes, I will fight you for no good reason. Yes, I will get up on a stage and tell jokes or do slam poetry. Yes, I will tag the side of a building. I like taking risks, but I'm very picky on what risks I take. There are fun risks and stupid risks that have no upside whatsoever. If I enjoy it at the time, I'll do it. Otherwise, no.

3. "Wait, you'll fight someone for no good reason?" Yes. Because to me, fighting is an art. There's a sort of talent and skill to it that I love. Blame it on getting beaten up a lot, but the more you do it, the more you grow to love it. You have to in order to survive. I don't like fighting to prove some point. Use words for that. But if you just want to punch me because you can, have at it. I'll hit you back. I'm a pacifist in that I don't like people doing things just because they're angry. That shows immaturity and a lack of control. On top of that, I'm a pacifist in that I don't like hurting people emotionally, and I don't like killing things. The way I see it, if I punch you, you'll heal. You'll get over it, and I wouldn't mind being punched in return. If I point a gun at your head, things are a little bit different. You're not going to get back up. I've ruined a perfectly good life, and that's not fair.

4. I no Mo-mo no mo'. XD
Yeah, I'm not Mormon anymore. Not really a huge fact, but whatever. Sadly, I'm still probably more Mormon than half of the Mormon kids I know.

5. Half the time I say I don't care about people, I'm lying. I probably care more about them than most, and definitely more than I let on. I really can't stand to see others hurt emotionally, and have this odd urge to try to protect everyone. I don't want to see anyone sad or upset. I always try to help, but sometimes that becomes overbearing and obnoxious, and I worry when I probably shouldn't.

6. I am absolutely paranoid. Some of the things in my mind late at night scare the shit out of me. I can't even draw them or write them down. The images are just so messed up that I can't think. I'll wind up having tears streak down my face just from sheer fear. It's that bad. I'm also paranoid of hurting myself, hurting others, doing something considered morally wrong or bad. I've always followed all of the morals and standards people said they did or were supposed to follow. I always thought everyone was good, and tried to be some shining beacon for them--be a role model for everything they said they were trying to do. I'm just now realizing that they're full of shit. Nobody but me followed those, and when I did it, I wasn't happy. In fact, the guilt and fear of failing made me miserable. I'm still paranoid and feel guilty for no reason. It's not just a religious thing, but just how people act in general. All the hypocritical things parents, teachers, family, and strangers tell you that don't really matter. I hate it.

7. Other people scare me. I'm afraid of them. I'm so freaked out about not being accepted, mainly because so few have accepted me in the past. It's like prison--the more you stand out, the more people try to tear you down. You want to survive, you shut your mouth and lay low. I've always kept about a three-foot distance rule, even with friends and family. I don't like to be touched. People just instinctively know not to put their arm around me or slap me on the back or anything, and I've learned to do the same with others. Even a friend hugging me feels awkward and makes me uncomfortable. It's like I don't know what to do or how to act with that sort of thing. Possible explanations? Getting beaten up, having people make fun of me because I'm different, bad sexual experiences as a child, seeing my mom get mistreated in the working world because she's a woman, and probably a few others.

8. Sometimes I sound depressed when I'm not. I can talk about a lot of stuff without getting very emotional. Other times, I'm emotional at the drop of a hat. Really, I prefer it that way, though, because I hate this weird feeling I get. It's like a defense mechanism. I get numb. I physically cannot seem to feel. My dad (who I've never actually met and was apparently a huge jerk) could walk through my front door, say "I love you, son," and blow his brains out, and I'd feel nothing. I'd just say "well, that was weird," and close the door. It's like I become a psychopath. I just can't seem to feel or care, even when I try. I can't laugh, I can't love, I can't cry, I can't be angry, I can't be anything. I'm just a robot. And then I'll get really tired and go to sleep and dream of blackness. It'll just be a coma, and when I wake up, I don't feel like I've actually gone to sleep, but several hours have passed. The people that want to drink themselves numb or wish that they could forget and not feel anything, stop it. You don't mean it. And if you do, let me tell you that it isn't that fun. I'd drink just to feel the hangover, because I don't feel like I have a physical body sometimes. I'd want to hurt myself, even just a little, so that I know that I'm still alive. Numbness sucks. It scares and it worries me.

So those are my eight facts or whatnot. I tried to pick some interesting ones, and while some of them may sound depressing, they're really not that bad. It's just that I couldn't think of any simple ones, so I included a few more personal ones.


As for who I tag, I tag:

, , , , , and...screw it, that's all you're getting. I can't think of any more. XD

If you want to still do it, and you're not on the list of people I tagged, just consider yourself on there and do it anyway, okay? Okay.

Sup beetches,
er, I mean Hello,

My mom works at a dentist's office right now, and the dentist that runs the business is absolutely loaded. That said, he does a really nice thing for his employees once a year: he takes them and their spouse for a cruise; all they have to do is pay for their family, and they're set. Sooooo...that said, I'm not going to be on here for a while. Not a huge amount of time, but from the 15th to the 23rd, I'm going to be on a big, big boat out on the blue, blue ocean. I've never really been on a vacation like that before. I haven't even left the state in years. And, considering the only other "vacation spots" I've been to are Salt Lake City, Utah; British Columbia, and Tijuana, I have no experience on such amazing ventures. I want to travel, though, so this could help me see what it's like to see the world, or at least an awesome part of it. I might put some pictures up after I get back, too.


Goodbye everybody!



Ooh, and a random note about Valentine's Day:
I don't mind it. I think it's good to have holidays where you tell friends, family members, and loved ones how much they mean to you. I honestly believe that without them, people might forget. It's funny how we wind up taking things in life for granted. That said, it's still pretty hard sometimes. It's supposed to be such a happy holiday, but it's kind of exclusive if you don't have anyone to spend it with. That, and the obvious marketing ploys that come with it. So while I'll probably spend the day thinking "it's okay. Tomorrow, I'm going on a cruise," I can't help but look at that logic and see it as a form of escapism. It's cool escapism, because it's a freaking trip to the CARIBBEAN, but still. It makes me a little sad. Oh well. All I can do is hope for the best. Maybe something good will happen tomorrow. And at any rate, I just can't help but think that one day, I'll be glad that there's a holiday like that--that I'll finally have someone to share it with and it will be the coolest holiday in the world. And that moment will be amazing. In an odd way, romance bothers me. I have no idea why, it just does. Even still, that's going to be my logic for now: it'll be cool. Maybe. Someday. So to all the people celebrating it or pretending it doesn't exist, I hope the day goes well for you.

Hello again. I thought it might be a bad idea to keep my last entry on my main page for so long. It's odd, but although I obviously don't mind people online reading it, the thought that absolutely any stranger (or worse, people I know from school) could stumble upon it and read it is frightening. It's not that big of a deal, but I figured that I shouldn't make it easy for them. I want to talk about my life sometimes, but I really don't want to hurt people in the process. Better to just let certain people read it and then write something else. Oh, and no, there isn't some elaborate event that's made me consider this. I just felt like it was a good idea.

So now that leaves me with a question: what do I write about? I guess the main thing would be my poetry style I'm working on. I have a few more quick pieces that I'll probably put up soon. Some of them are ones from last year that I'm not too happy with. I sort of go insane from time to time. I'm not sure how literally you can take that, but at times, my mind seems like it pops. Not snaps, like a cable, but more like it is snapping with such force and ferocity that it's actually shooting forward somehow--it's popping. That means that I'll wind up laughing for no reason or getting depressed at the push of a button (like the play button on my iPod, for instance.) I'll also get really obsessed with various projects. At any rate, on two different occasions, I've written something that apparently was really deep, but upon gaining full consciousness, makes me think "what the hell?" I'm sort of amused by my own apparent insanity from time to time. How that can happen without the aid of drugs is kinda funny. As Salvador Dali said, "I am not on drugs, I AM drugs." There's also a few serious ones thrown in there, too. Nothing major. Just things that I thought were interesting.

Another concern of mine: sometimes my writing is funny. Sometimes it's serious. Sometimes, it's mixed. The only problem is that I get the best and worst critique ever when I write a serious piece. If the reader expects comedy, they'll find it in the weakest lines. It kinda sucks when you write something and get "ha ha. This part was especially funny" as a response. Not a huge deal, I'm just saying. That also means that I'm trying to write more serious stuff. Not necessarily emo, but I want to capture the bitter and cynical and mix it with the uplifting and whimsical--something special that holds some personal meaning. That said, there's an interesting Valentine's Day short story I'm working on. I'll try to finish on time. I call it "The Black Heart Manifesto." It should be good. Czarewich read a little bit of it already.

Oh, and here's something that I think is really important:

Luke 12:2-3, KJV-- For there is nothing covered, that shall not be revealed; neither hid, that shall not be known.

Therefore whatsoever ye have spoken in darkness shall be heard in the light; and that which ye have spoken in the ear in closets shall be proclaimed above the housetops.

This is taken from the Bible. I've always loved this part. Ever since I heard it at age 10 or so, I had a much different interpretation than most. I always wanted sins to be shouted from the rooftops, and for secrets to be eliminated, at least to an extent. I hate how people have these elaborate double-standards. Can't swear in front of the kids. Can't let them see anything too graphic, despite the things adults see on a regular basic. Can't let them see reality before a certain age. Kids are always said to be innocent, but I believe it's only because we force them to be. I don't think adults are really that much more mature than children, and if placed in the same positions, they'd wouldn't act too differently. So to have these secrets and hypocrisies eliminated, and to see that we don't need to feel as guilty as we do--that everyone makes mistakes or has their own secrets and vices--we might be better off. And while I'm not going to share my vices at the moment (not a good idea, although maybe I'll do that later), I figured I'd share some secrets. They don't really bother me anymore, so I might as well. That, and it just may help someone later on down the road. Basically, I'm listing five personal things that are somewhat uncomfortable--a variation on the usual internet "share five facts game." If you want to, you can do the same. But really, this is just for me:

1. When I was six or seven, there was this kid named Scott. He said he'd heard of this thing called sex and asked if I'd do it with him. He said that if I didn't, he wouldn't be my friend anymore. Even as a kid, you have a vague idea that what you're doing is wrong, but you don't know why, or what to do. Probably that whole "let's shelter them from life" aspect. I said I didn't think I should, but he said that if I didn't, he would leave, and that he'd give me a day to think about it. Then he walked away. When you're little, friends mean a lot to you. They mean more than anything in the world. Life seems so much bigger than you, and all you really want is just to be noticed--to have that same level of love and affection that your parents used to give you, or maybe compensate for a lack of it. Scott was my best friend. I didn't have very many, and the ones I did have lied to me a lot. I didn't want to lose him, so I agreed. The next day, he set it up where he'd get a bathroom pass at school, then I'd look at the clock and wait five minutes, and then get a pass as well. Then I'd go to the bathroom and join him. Looking back on it, I'm surprised he knew as much as he did. It was essentially everything you could do in a school bathroom. I'm not sure if it happened three or four times, or even more or less. I know it happened at least twice, though, and I hated the burden of that secret. I told my mother one day and she called the school and explained. Scott was forced into time out, and had to apologize. I tried to mention it to him, and tell him that I was sorry for telling, but he said he didn't want to talk about it. I remember talking only a few times after that, and then I had to move away. All through school, I was always really nervous and fidgety during the "just say no" speech on sexual harassment every year. Too little, too late, and all it did was tell me that what I had done was wrong. Even now, at 17, I'm still a little bothered by sexual things. I'll make a ton of dirty jokes, but even someone putting a hand on my shoulder is very uncomfortable. I guess that's another reason why it's hard for me to trust people, too. Just so everyone is clear on this, I don't think I'm gay. I'm 99% sure of it. When you're little, words like "sexual preference" and the like don't mean a whole lot. You don't know how things work, so it's a bit different. Sadly, I ignored gay people for several years and was also against gay marriage because of this. Not because I hated them, but just because their presence made me uncomfortable due to past situations. It didn't help that in junior high, everyone seems to be homophobic, and just the fact that I wore sandals to school made people spread rumors that I was gay. Wonderful feeling, really. That said, I guess I should know how badly homosexual people are harassed sometimes. Even though I wasn't, I experienced the same level of insults. I was also LDS from age 10 to now at 17, so the policy that homosexuality is morally wrong didn't really help me feel that much better about what had happened.

2. This is sort of tied into number one. I like to consider myself an asexual creature. I joke sometimes that I have the sexual drive of an earthworm. That's pretty much true. The thing is, although I've been in love, and wouldn't really mind if that girl put her hand on my shoulder or whatever, it's hard for me to be naturally attracted to people. I notice physical beauty last, if I notice at all. The thing is, I don't like guys. I know that for a fact. But then again, I also don't like girls. They're pretty much equal to guys, if not slightly higher. So I guess I'm the opposite of bi: I'm not attracted to anyone. A part of me knows that's a lie, but it isn't easy. People bother me, and the thought of being closer to people, especially after them using and abusing me so often, is a bit too much. No matter how much I care about them, it's hard to show that I care. It took years before I even knew what some of my friends' eye colors were. So to this day, I'm still not sure what I am as far as that. I like people, I can even love them, but physical attraction and contact confuses me. I question if I'm capable of it sometimes.

3. I question God, my life, and my values on a regular basis. I'm an existentialist in that respect. I just don't care anymore. That seems bad, but I just don't care. I'd rather live my own way. Every decision leaves me feeling sad or guilty. And if that's the case, why bother with something that doesn't make me happy? At the very least, I'd rather be sad and miserable in my own way. Just the thought that it's my choice alone, no matter how stupid, makes me feel a bit happier.

4. People think I have low self-esteem. That's really not true at all. I don't value my life, but that's mainly because I have no reason to. I value the lives of others more than my own. I also nitpick and criticize myself, but no more than a complete stranger might due looking at me. Because I'm somewhat unattached from myself, I know my flaws better than anybody. And I don't mind mentioning those flaws, because everyone hides them. I hate hiding things. I do it to avoid this stupid justification everyone pulls. I want to be someone that knows their mistakes just as well as the person accusing them. Nobody can say that I don't try to admit my faults. I also believe that I should blame myself before blaming others. I should struggle to see if there's any more reasons why people should be mad at me before I turn and be mad at them. If they have a good reason for it, I should improve that part of me and do my best to forgive them. And if there's nothing wrong with me, then both they and I will know it. If I call someone out on something, I don't want them to think it's mere opinion or a quick outburst. I want them to know that I mean it, and that if I say it, it's most likely true. Basically, if I call someone an asshole, they've earned it.

On top of this, I either think I'll be really really poor, or ridiculously rich. There really is no between. With the amount of ideas I have, I either see myself living under a bridge (which I joke about, mainly just to get used to the consequences and reality of what might happen), or becoming a millionaire. In the middle of the night, I'll often pace around my house, talking to myself. I'll pretend I'm on a talk show, interviewing myself as if I was famous. I'll talk about my plans to an imaginary audience, and all the wonderful ideas I have in store. I'll look into the mirror and say "I hear you're good at music" or "I hear you're good at poetry" and then say that I am. I'll then ask myself if I'd be willing to share a piece of one for my audience. Then I'll make things up off the top of my head. It's these pieces that wind up becoming my best. Half of the things on my DeviantART page are created this way. I think I'll be famous one day. I think I'll have way too much money and often joke about what I'll do when that finally happens. But in reality, I'm absolutely serious. I seriously think that one day, I'll be a millionaire. The jokes about failure or living under a bridge are just to keep me from deluding myself. To remind me that it may not all work out the way it seems, and help comfort me so I can do it anyway. That even if I become a bum, that's okay. It helps me cope with the risk involved and helps me to move forward with traveling and all my ridiculous goals. Back in April, just thinking that I might not make it drove me to become suicidal. But nowadays, those thoughts don't bother me anymore. No matter how frightening they are, I want to do them. My "low self-esteem" is really just curbing my hidden optimism.


5. One of my biggest fears in life is that when I die, my ideas will inevitably die with me. I've learned that it's a lot like love. If you take that risk, you can never have that blissful ignorance back. And it'll be the best thing for you or it'll break your heart, or both. But that blissful uncertainty tears at you, and no matter how risky it is, you'll do it anyway. It matters that much to you. So if anyone ever wants to help me with a few ideas, that'd be great. I'd rather see them completed and not take credit than have them never be seen. There's too many to do, and not enough time or money for me to ever complete them. And this is my arrogance showing through. At times, I seem to consider myself the world's last hope. The world's one ticket to change, and that if I'm lost, everything will be lost. An entire future will be washed and drowned out. Technically, it's the same for every person, but I can't help but feel that I'm different--that my purpose is somehow special and unique. I really just don't want my plans and ideas to fail, or even worse, never be seen. Hopefully, I'll be famous someday. If only for 15 minutes, one day I'll be famous.