Halloween!

Hey Guys :D
Happy halloween! Or Hallow's eve if you will. Time to dress up and scare little children. Fun stuff right there, folks. Oh, and free candy.
So guess what tomarrow is.
November 1st.
I guess that doesn't really mean a lot for a lot of people, but for me, it's the start of the month of insane writing, also known as Nano Wri Mo, where you write 50,000 words, or basically it's a whole novel. So yeah. I think I could do this.
So I guess that means I wouldn't be blogging for a while...so I guess this is goodbye for a while blogger, but I'll try my best to write on here as much as I can during the month.
Here's my nano wri mo profile:
http://www.nanowrimo.org/en/participants/nattbarletta
Come see my progress and stuff! 
Yeah...
Or not.

Happiness is.

Lately, I've been thinking about how one can be happy, and I've come up with one conclusion. Happiness is stuffed snoopies.
I can explain that.
In life, things are way too complicated. Like we need all of the designer things and the big things to make us happy, alongs with big things that makes us sad. So, I guess maybe little things such as snoopy stuffed animals ( I mean really, how can you not like a dancing beagle? Like seriously, he's sooooo freaking cute. I mean he can cook, dance, fly an airplane, write a novel, and fly an airplane) Snoopy is like a boss. It's just so damn cute to see. That, and the one that I just bought is sitting right next to me. He's a World War One Flying Ace. I swear thats the best part of the show.
I guess maybe cartoon beagles are just that awesome.
Maybe we need to watch more dancing beagles to be happy.

To Reach Out.

Ever feel so sad that you feel like no one is there to hear you cry, no one is there for you to hear you scream, or to help you up once you have fallen?
Yeah that has happened to me. Like for the past week.
Ever feel like everyone is barking at you to do something, like demanding something of you that you can't give, something that helps you become weaker and weaker, until the point you want to snap.
Yeah that sounds about right.
I feel like no one's listening to me.
Or caring.
I understand that people have lives, and want to live them. I just wish that they would, if they can be able to make me feel better. I try to pick myself up, but when I feel lonely, it would be nice if you could answer your phone. I never felt this weak, I never felt like I couldn't move on from day to day.
I hate it when people say that they want to be your friend, but then talk crap about you and tell you what to do. You aren't the fucking boss, you stupid bitch.
I wish someone could help me out of this hole.
Because I need help.
Like a lot of it.

A bunch of things Composed...

HEY THERE BLOGGERS...
I be back.
Well sorta.
I got some free time.
So. Hi.
How ya doing? Enjoying the weather? That's good.
SO I have had some interesting things to write about. So I've composed a list of what I like, and what I don't like.
Yay lists.
Lessgo.
Things I like:
My good friends
Memories
COOKIES.
Silver rings.
Things I Hate:
People ignoring me.
People thinking that they are all that.
DRAMAAAAAA.

And that's allll folkss. (yes I realize that this was crappy, but I really don't care. I wanted to post something, because...well yeah.)

Devotion.

Devotion. Three syllables.  Eight letters. But what does it mean? It’s no black and white answer, it’s purely gray, meaning that there is no exact definition, but we could find a definition through example, not through words. There are people, more mature than I am, who show this word, rather than define it. The definition of devotion, in my book, is being there for someone, through thick, and thin, through the good, the bad, and the ugly. When I see devotion, I think of my grandma taking care of my grandma. When I see this, I see someone who truly cares about that other person. Devotion is something that means love.

When I hear the word devotion, my mind takes a little trip in time to when my grandma took care of my grandpa, who was a victim of Alzheimer's disease. When he couldn’t walk, she used to lift him into a wheelchair. She changed his diapers, and did whatever she could to take care of him, including sacrificing her own sanity, by not getting out much, unless it was a hundred percent necessary. When he didn’t want to take his pills, she would nag him, until he said somethings that I will not repeat (he wasn’t a violent man, it was the dementia), until he would break down, and take them just to shut her up. When he was confined to live in a nursing home, she would race up there as soon as she can, and leave when the nurses would tell her that visiting hours were over. This is devotion, because she was focused on him, through the good times in their marriage, and through the last five years, which involved her personal sacrifices, just to keep him happy, and healthy.

When I see the word devotion, I think of someone who actually cares about the other person. Marriage, is an example of this. Nowadays, I feel like that people don’t take marriage seriously. Devotion, is part of the marriage. The older couples, would do anything to take care of the other, which is devotion, whereas some of the younger couples would leave their spouses when they have other things to do, or they find someone else to do the things that their previous spouse was unable to do. Caring about someone, and being devote to them, is part of a loving marriage, and one that lasts.

Devotion is part of my definition of love. If you are in love with someone, you are devote to them. You will do anything for them, you will go to any lengths humanly possible to make them happy, even if it involves not being able to do something that is more fun than what you have to do. When you love someone, you have to be there for someone. There has to be more than just the physical, and the “hey you’re kinda cute” thing. Love is truly making an effort for them.

Devotion. It’s something that we hear about it. Maybe we will see it, but it is rare, a once in a lifetime kinda thing. It’s something that I saw with my grandparents. It involves you caring about them. And it’s called love.

An Eulogy.

Today, we buried my grandpa, a man that means a lot to me. My cousin wrote a eulogy, although I always thought I was going to do it. But then, at the alter, I choked. So, here's an eulogy, although none of my family will get to read it:
When I went to write a paper about the people that mean the most to me for expository writing, there was one person in mind that I could possibly write about. That person is my grandfather.
From as long as I can remember, my grandfather ran for me, and my cousins. Whether it was the hockey games, or the constant hospital visits that we all had to go through, my grandfather was front and center for everything, good or bad. Family is something that he always thought was important, to the day he died.
My grandfather loved all of his grandkids, me especially. I remember after being safety patrol in sixth grade, we would go out to coffee at Dunkin Doughnuts, however I wouldn't have coffee.
Sonny taught me most about love. He loved Millie more than anything. He taught me that some men are good out there, whereas others not so much. Everyday, while spending my childhood with him and Millie (who he often referred to as King Pin), he wouldn't be anywhere without her. As she wouldn't be anywhere without him. I personally think the reason he hung onto this life for as long as he did was because he truly didn't want her to be sad of his passing, or that he loved her so much that he didn't want to see her move on.
In life, Sonny was never serious. I always remember him being one of the kids, while my grandmother was watching the troops, and keeping the things in order. I remember him being happy, loving yellow, and talked about the gold old days when he was in the army. He always had a joke in tow, and enjoyed the company of many people, whether he just met them or knew them for years. He was everyone's friend, and loved by people.
Sonny Mansi was a son, brother, veteran, a husband, father, and grandfather. He was a man of many things, delivered bananas for a living, and was Millie's personal chauffeur in his old age. Although he never went to school or did scholarly things, there are things that he taught me that I feel were important. He taught me to never refuse money, to never complain, and to be happy, one of the last phrases that he said to me, and my cousin before his death. And, although I'm sad to see him leave this earth, I know that he is smiling upon us, probably saying "why are you crying, let's eat!", and spending the time with his long lost friends, and relatives, his beloved mother, father, and siblings. I remember him as being a happy individual, someone who never complained, and enjoyed his black1970 Cadaliac devile, which to this day, remains in amazing condition.

I honestly Don't Know What to Say.

Writing lately is not a fun time, because I can't think of anything to actually write about. So, if you like to help me with that topic, that would be great.
I don't know what I'm feeling right now.
I don't know what to say right now.
I don't know what to think right now.
I don't know anything.
So, I guess that these things are the kind of things that are hard to say. I guess that when things happen, it's just the case.
I feel lonely.
I want someone to talk to.
I want a cookie.
I'm dreading tomarrow, not because I have disrespect, I just don't want to say goodbye. Goodbye is the hardest thing to ever say to someone when you know the next time you see them, you'll be gone. It feels like it's unreal.
I can't believe it.
I realllly feel like talking to someone right about now. So, if you have my number, maybe it might be a good idea to text me. I feel like having a friend right about now. And maybe, some french fries. I want some of those too. And with cheese on it. Lots of cheese.
Just saying.