Sunday, 9 June 2013

I tend to write a lot...

You know what I hate? Like, really fucking hate you know, like to the point of if i were if I had a wish, and could wish for anything in all the world and all of space and all of time, absolutely anything, totally rule free wish that would be carried out in a consequence free manner, well, I'd wish for a shit ton of money, because come on, let's be realistic...but I digress, yes, what I hate is having an idea that is just balls to the wall crazy and fun and exciting and real life just kicks it to the ground, then in the gut, and when it opens its mouth to drink, life pisses right in that mouth. I hate unrealised ideas, just the concept that it may never be fully, you know me, and if you don't, you should and so now or eventually you will, and so you'll know I am terrible for this. I can't stress enough that I leave things half (warning! half maybe be an exaggeration, may be less, may be more, may even be not even started!) finished ALL the freaking time, and I hate it. I really just find it hard to care at times, or rather, that I care too much about too many things, you know, I'll start one project, make progress on it, then be all "ooh! something else!" and something else will always be better, you know, because it's newer, and this world is so fucking terrible that at times (and I think this is something we're all guilty of on some level) that I'm constantly searching for the novel thing, just that new and interesting object, or show, or game to blot out real life but of course that's all episodic content, and hell, a lot of time I can't even finish them, just run through them, picking out pieces a la carte. 

But then, life is also episodic. If you think about it, there's this misconception that life is just a stream of uninterrupted consciousness, or at least that's how people perceive it. Mention to them that life is actually a series of events that are causally linked, and that the grand majority of their life is actually just taking place in a limbo between said events and you'll get some strange stares I tell you this now. Well, that and I probably should not have picked the girls locker room at my local fitness centre to spout my philosophies....well, I say that, but really, it was the only choice "what about literally anywhere else?" I hear you ask, with my mental mind powers of telepathy, nope, only choice, that's my answer, infallible in every detail.

I don't know though, I mean half, obviously this isn't everything, I mean, I finished school right? Well, kind of, I saw it through to the end, sure, but I was just so fucking tired of it, I stopped trying. It's so...infuriating...waiting for the idiots in the class to catch up. I'm not saying I was some massive brain, walking about the place freaking out people with my squishy, squelchy brain meats dripping about the place like some grotesque mockery of creation, but I mean the real know the fuckers, the ones who have no fucking hope of anything in their life outside of knocking some bitch up both figuratively and literally, and consequently, having nothing to live for, want to drag the rest of the class down with them...and there were a bloody lot of them, and that's fine, whatever, I don't care, go be the best you can be, you bottom feeding basket of arses, I just wish some teacher in that school had said "fuck all y'all" to the freaking retarded idea of only going as fast as the slowest student. I mean, I guess it makes sense if the range is relatively close to the median or whatever, but when you've got people who'll open a text book, look for the dirty words and go "hur hur, 'at's a durty", but really enthusiastically and over and over, because that's the limit of their small minds, there is quite literally nothing else there, it's just being a knob and talking about them, you don't really get shit done. The reason is simple, they're just not interested, and that holds the class back as the teacher has to deal with them, consequently I get bored because I've normally answered the question before the teacher had finished telling me it, and now I've got nothing to do but sit there and slowly bang my head against the wall in the vain hope that I'd die and reincarnate as a fucking tree or something so I don't have to put up with people anymore.

But yeah, mostly, it leads to me half arsing things. I don't know, it's just this mindset that well, it's not just that, there's other things as well, you know, there's those people I used to hang around with a lot around that time, and who just royally fucked me over, and that makes it hard to give a fuck, and then I know that death is just out there, waiting, it's going to happen, so why give a fuck, and honestly, it's path of least resistance. And I guess that's what I really hate, is that I've got this tendency to just do whatever is easiest, and because it's easy, I'll get bored, and so that thing will only ever get half finished because "what's the point."

Sometimes, I wish I were a normal person, you know, or rather, no, fuck that, I wish I acted like a normal person. I hate the fact that I leave things half finished, I hate that I tend to view little acts of kindness as massive events just all "Wow! I can't believe someone would do that! They must LURVE me!" (yeah, I've got real bad abandonment issues, thank you shitty family and most of my school friends!)...that love thing's not restricted to homo....yeah, REAL bad abandonment issues...often have I said that the only thing worse than not having a father, would be having my step fathers...I'd have liked to have been an orphan, you know...I think I'd have less psychological trauma going on. I don't know, maybe that's just all normal, and that's what people are like....actually no, that would be bad if we all were, because what would that say about our species.

And now, I'm really tired of venting, so yeah, have fun!

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