Wonderings and Wanderings|
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|Sunday, December 21st, 2014|
|Tuesday, December 16th, 2014|
|Down Time Poopy-Poopy-Ones
I have some down-poopy-time-poopy-poopy-ones, so I thought I'd post a blog post in order to fill the time. I also thought to myself it would be a good idea to take advantage of this down time in order to post something that wasn't something I had a beef about.
I guess yesterday's post didn't have any beef in it, either, so that's a good thing. And the post before that was about The Sketchmobile, and I don't mind the presence of The Sketchmobile in my life at all. Not at all.
It's raining, and this state needs the rain, that's for sure. Although I feel bad for all the people whose houses got messed up in the mudslides and all that.
Crappity crap, I feel like I cain't think of anything to write about. There's one good thing that happened, but I feel like if I put it into words, I might jinx it, and I don't want it to go away. My head feels tired.
Poop, no I cain't think of anything to write about. I feel all jammed up and all blocked up, too. What should I write about? A really horrible thing happened in Pakistan in the news today. It made me really sad or horrified or something. I was alerted to it because a friend posted something about it on Facebook today. You always know what really major major events have happened in the world if something got posted on Facebook. If people're only posting pictures of puppies and stuff like that, there might not be anything major happening in the world.
But it's fucking crazy. I don't really know what's happening to the world and all its people. it feels like the world has gone absofuckinglutely nuts. What's going on? What's going on, man?
And then like I lookit the really-bad story in Google News, and I feel all horrible for humanity. And then I go back to facebook and friends are posting all this nice stuff about wisdom, and then a teeny tiny ray of hope shines through again. It makes me almost want to cry, because it helps to be able to see that there're all these really good people in the world that wanna make it better, y'know. They're people who're not perfect or anything like that; like me, they're just doin' the best they can. That's a good thing. It's a contrast, I guess you could call it.
I dunno, man. I dunno, dude. I dunno what to think about anything.
I used to draw mean comic strips, but now I don't do that anymore. I think a while back, i decided it wasn't a good idea to do mean comic strips, although I know back when I did 'em, it was just to process mean stuff other people did to me. But these days, I don't wanna do that, y'know. There's something about it - I can't quite put my finger on it. I think it hearkens back to that one blog entry I wrote years ago, where every little mean thing you do contains every other mean thing ever done in it. It makes you think a lot.
|Monday, December 15th, 2014|
I was at the place where I work today, and this girl comes in with this little doggie. I think the doggie was a scottie doggie or something along those lines. The little dog made a beeline for me, and then just leaned his head on me. It was as if the doggie was seeking some kind of comfort. It was very odd because I've seen the dog from time to time, in passing, and all that, but this is the first time I've petted him or anything like that. I wonder why he was comin' to me for comfort. Huh. Odd.
Sometimes I'll meet an animal and the animal will be all "I love you" even though I've never seen that animal before. I always think "why do you trust me, little animal? You don't know me." But then I re-remember that animals are a lot smarter about knowing who to trust than people are. I wonder how they do that. Is it a psychic ability? Or do mean people just smell a certain way? In any event, it's reassring to know animals like me, y'know. Cuz it means I'm not mean.
|Friday, November 7th, 2014|
Okay, okay, okay, this is it. I'm posting something when I'm not in the mood to rant about something I'm pissed off about. Yay!
I dreamed a few days ago about a car, and I ended up nicknaming it The SketchMobile. Now I laugh every time I think of The SketchMobile. I should probably draw a picture of it. I probably should do that. It was funny cuz I was kind of scared in the dream, because I didn't know what the occupants of The SketchMobile were gonna do, you know? But then, I woke up and wrote down some stuff about The SketchMobile, and now I laugh every time I think of it. It would be funny if a car manufacturer came up with a car called The SketchMobile. If I had enough money, I'd buy one myself, just to have a car with a cool-sounding name like that. Ha ha ha. I can't stop laughing.
One day, at work, our office manager is all, oh, some people (who were networking - this was their way of networking) gave us some free gifts. They gave us an owl pillow.
Well, me and my friend were all excited, because apparently, we both like owls. I think we were thinking it'd be this cool, realistic picture of an owl. We ran to the lobby where the pillow was. It wasn't cool or realistic. It was, I dunno how to describe it. Cute and dumb, I guess you could call it. The owl was orange. The same color as The SketchMobile, as a matter of fact. Odd.
|Tuesday, October 28th, 2014|
I'm hesitant to post more stuff cuz I don't want it to cover up the comic strip I posted a few days ago. I guess it won't cover it up so much as just be above it. But with our short American attention span these days, people tune out if they have to read more than a paragraph or scroll down a little bit. People tune out when videos on Facebook are posted that're more than, say, a minute long. It's really odd. I feel like everybody in the world has ADHD now, including myself.
Anyway, I got online to post something about something I have a beef with. Now I'm realizing that many of my posts are about beefs. Maybe I should get online when I'm in a good mood about something so all my posts don't come out all complainy and beef-like.
Anywayyy, I got a phone call this morning from an organization I give money to. Let's call it "G." G sucks a certain amount of money outta one o' my credit cards monthly, which I think is fine cuz it's for a good cause. Then G calls me this morning asking for more money. The thing is, if you get a phone call from someone saying "I'm with 'G,'" there's no way of really knowing it's G. It could be a scam calling itself "G."Of course, there's the strong possibility it was G, and I'm pretty sure it was G. BUT there's no way of knowing for sure. Sure, it's probably not that likely that scam artists know I give $ to G, but I don't know that for sure. Because there's lots of ways of gettting ahold of people's information.
So, they ask for money and I say, okay, I'll increase my monthly giving-thingy by $2. She's all, great. Lemme have your credit card info. I'm all, um, don't you already have it on file? She's all no, and she sez stuff about security blah blah blah. So I very apologetically say, dude, I'm sorry but I don't give credit card information out over the phone when it's someone calling me, cuz there's no way for me to know you are who you say you are.
Well, dude, she turned into one of those aggressive telemarketers that wouldn't take no for an answer. She started rattling off all this other information they had about me to prove that it was them (because her reasoning was that nobody else would know my address, phone number, etcetera). I'm thinking, yeah, but scam artists could also know my address and so forth. It's possible.
Sure, I'm pretty sure it was G calling, which made me even more pissed. Cuz i've always had good feelings about G, but spending 15 minutes on the phone telling this person no over and over again was not my idea of a nice morning. I don't like that pestered feeling with a mean-ass telemarketer that doesn't take no for an answer and proceeds to explain that my saying "no" means I'm stupid. (Okay she didn't say that explicitly, but it was implied).
Well, she must have clairvoyant abilities or maybe she could read the tone of my voice, cuz she finally backed off when I was getting fed up. I realized, dude. I'm not into being pestered over the phone just because I'm already doing them the favor of giving them money each month. Like, why repay something nice I'm doing with mean, aggressive telemarketing? That's bulshit. At that point, I thought to myself, I can, right now, say "fuck you, I'm not ever giving you another red cent - take me off your list." Well, I didn't say that, but I thought it, and that was when she backed off and got all nice again.
It made me sad because so much of the world is this way - ugly and mean. I didn't realize that G had its own ugly and mean aspects. It was one of those things where an organization that gives me hope for humanity is now making me have no hope for humanity. If they can't be nice, who can?
And then my brain ties itself in knots, because if it really was G calling, then I'd've had no problem giving them the info they say they needed. But then again, there was no way to know that for sure. So, I'm pissed at them potentially being an imposter when they probably weren't. But all the same, they should fucking respect my right to privacy, so there.
(And ironically, I'm blabbing it all over the internet right now, so maybe I'm not as into privacy as I thought I was. Ha ha ha ha ha).
|Saturday, October 25th, 2014|
|Friday, October 24th, 2014|
|My Medical Marijuana Grump
It really bugs me that all these feds are raiding medical marijuana dispensaries down here where I'm living. It bums me out, and it makes me sad and angry at the same time. The voters of California voted to have medical marijuana be legal. Now you could say, yeah, but it's not working cuz some people cheat the system by getting a pot card and using it recreationally. I say: who cares? Who gives a fuck? By that same logic, you should outlaw prescription pain killers, because people abuse those all the fucking time. And you know what else? People are much more likely to die of pain killer abuse than pot use. But we don't outlaw pain killers cuz 1. people need them and 2. the pharmaceutical companies would get mad, and they're the ones paying off the politicians.
Which is probably why the feds are raiding our dispensaries in the first place. Cuz they're getting paid off by the pharma companies because those companies don't want a bunch of competition from medical marijuana, which is oftentimes a safer, better medicine than what they have to offer (depending on the medical condition).
I hate how the voters' wills are trumped by a bunch of corrupt politicians who "know better" than us. What the fuck is the point of a democracy if our votes don't count for anything? Not if it disagrees with what Big Brother has to say.
Ontop of that, new research is showin' that pot is good for a lot of conditions. It may be a cancer fighting agent. Some research is showin' that it may prevent and it very likely slows the progression of alzheimers. It's good for parkinsons, I've heard, as well. Add to that the fact that it's an excellent anti-nauseant, and it helps people who've lost their appetite eat again. Then there's the very strong possibility that it helps with anxiety.
I'm not saying it's a cure-all. I'm not saying that everybody should use it. But what the fuck, man? Outlawing a plant is really fucking stupid. It's a plant that has good things to say to lots of people and has been used medicinally for thousands of years. Shit dude. THe whole thing makes me grumpy.
|Friday, October 10th, 2014|
Today's the last day in my current apartment; tomorrow I move into the unit directly upstairs from me. Because Stompy finally moved out! Yay!!!!!!!! It's really strange that it's almost exactly a year to the day after I moved down here initially. Dang. Well, it's 3 weeks different from the anniversary of my move down here. Anywayyyyyyyy, I'm feelin' all sentimental for the old place. It sounds strange and silly, too, because the new place will be identical to the old place - same floor plan and everything. The only difference'll be it being hotter cuz it's on the 3rd floor (or I assume it'll be hotter), and no noise above my head. But every place has different energy. Even though it's gonna be the same, it'll still have Stompy's old energy in it, which I'll have to clear. And of course, there're lots of memories associated with this place. Mainly it's me learning myself how to draw better and working on my current comic book and recording about 10 songs. Or was it 11? I dunno. And watching TV and stuff. I'm not very coherent.
But I'm all ill-at-ease which is not a fun way to spend a day. I'm waiting for a phone call. I hate waiting for phone calls! This one is one I'm kind of nervous about, too, which makes it all the worse! Fuck, when's this person gonna call????? When??????????????
But I gotta work on gettin' ready to move. I've checked off a bunch of stuff on my to-do list, but there's lots of other stuff to do, too.
Now that I think of it, I'm waiting for 2 phone calls, one of which the outcome of which will determine what I say to a person I gotta call subsequently to it. So there're actually 3 phone conversations waiting to happen. That sucks balls, dude. That really sucks balls.
I wonder if I'll ever get to move up north again. I'd like that.
Oh, and I feel really bad!!!! I called my phone service to transfer my service to the new apartment, and the lady I spoke to was nice enough. She was professional and did her job well. It was fine. Then the phone company called me this morning with this automated survey asking me to rate my experience with the phone lady.
Well it said 1 is completely unsatisfied and 10 was completely satisfied. Well, I'm one of those persons who has a tendency to give everything "10's" y'know. And then I wonder if people think i'm being disingenuous. So I decided to punch in "9" to show I was satisfied, but it's not like I was over the moon or anything like that. It's not like I was looking back at that phone conversation with all these fond memories. It was just fine, and I figured 9 meant just fine.
So then the robot voice says "I'm SORRY that you weren't completely satisfied!" And I'm all NO!!!!! I was satisfied! It was just fine! I just didn't want to sound overboard in my praise!!! Shit!!!!!!
So now I'm worried I got the nice lady in trouble. I feel really bad about that. I feel super bad about that. I hope she doesn't lose her job or anything like that. But it asked me all these follow up questions about her, and I just went ahead and gave them all 10's. Maybe that'll make up for it. Maybe that will. Maybe they'll think since the follow ups didn't match up with the initial question, that I was stupid and didn't comprehend some of the questions. That way, they'll take my rating with a grain of salt, y'know. They'll just think, oh this customer is stupid. We cain't trust anything she says about our phone representative. The phone representative is just fine and can keep her job. It's just the customer that's stupid.
|Wednesday, October 8th, 2014|
|Insomnia, Part III
I dunno what to write about, but have these spare 15 minutes before the next thing that I have to do. It's been so long since I've blogged regularly, y'know. I dunno why I fall outta the habit so often. I mean, writing about random stuff is kind of fun, so I dunno why I don't do it more. Oh well. Poopity poop.
I'm tireder than tiredy tirederson today. That kind of makes sense, though, since I only got 4 hours of sleep last night. I'd like to write a book called "Insomnia." It feels like this book, probably another one of those graphic novels, is at the edge of my consciousness, just a-waiting to come out. I mean, fuck, I've already drawn 4 squares (see below). Y'know?
I feel like it's a really dark book, just a-waiting to pop outta my unconscious mind and descend upon me. But all I have right now is a general feel for it. And then there's the fact that I'm still trying to re-learn how to drawer cartoon characters in the first place. I'm supposing if the idears start to flow outta me in a big old flood, I'll just draw the 2 characters as dinosaurs cuz dinosaurs are really easy to draw. I already know it works to drawl them as dinosaurs because I've tried it a couple times. It looks fine. They just look like dinosaurs.
I guess "Insomnia"'s not dark, though, in the sense of really bad things happening or all that. It feels more dark in a European movie sort of way, but not nearly as grim or slow moving. It feels European-ish in the sense of it being just on the edge of pretention, but not actually being pretentious. It'll be more of a dark book, that's also a real hoot. A rip-roarin' adventure of fun and laughs.
But what'll it be about? I dunno. It just seems like this sleeplessness that's pervading large chunks of our society is, like, pointing to something, y'know? I want this book to be about whatever it's pointing to. (I mean, whatever this worldwide Insomnia is pointing to). I don't really know what it's pointing to, though. And maybe it's insane for me to be planning on writing a book in which I really have no ideas about what happens, except for the fact that the characters can't sleep. I dunno. Whatever.
My 15-minutes-from-now thing just got cancelled, so now I have tons of time to sit around and stew. Or maybe I'll do something more productive than stew. Maybe I'll do something really cool and fun.
I think I got my therapist sick. I came in with a cold last week, and now he has a cold. I feel bad.
|Tuesday, October 7th, 2014|
|I'm Dun With The Law Of Attraction
I don't know, dude. I mean, I used to believe in the law of attraction, but these days, I'm viewing it as more of an open question than anything else. Maybe it's true and maybe it isn't. I mean, there's scientific evidence that sez it's true, if the sources I read are correct. For example, people can make random events (e.g., coin-tosses) all non-random by thinkin' real hard about heads rather than tails. You end up with more heads than tails with a p-value of .00000 something or other. Whatever, dude.
I don't even care if it's real or not. All these fucking books that talk about the law of attraction, they talk about it from the perspective of it bein' a self-help book. All you have to do is change your thoughts, and your reality will change.
The thing is - the reality is - these books don't do any good in terms of self help. Not really. All these books are is a description of a process. The process is that of beings dreaming themselves into existence. But really, dude. It doesn't offer any fucking solution about how to make this existence nicer. No. It's all bullshit.
All you have to do is change your thoughts????????????????????????????????
What the fuck, dude? No one can change their fucking thoughts. It just can't be done. You might as well tell someone to change the weather, or make the earth spin at a different rate. You can't fucking do it!!!!! Telling somone "all you have to do is change your thoughts" is akin to saying "In order to make your reality nicer, just balance an object with the mass of the moon on the head of a pin and you got it!"
Even Zen experts and the Dalai Lama and all them can't fucking change their thoughts. All they've learned how to do is to disregard them. Or view them from a standpoint of neutrality. That's all you can really hope for. If you have a bunch of fucking garbage going through your head, all you can really do is be neutral to it and say "there's some more garbage."
Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.
It's frustrating. Because if the law of attraction is true, it doesn't mean we can all change our realities and have happy existences. No, all it means is those of us with lotsa negative thoughts are fucked and there's nothing we can do about it. I mean, if your existence is an unremitting hell, then it's logical to assume that you're going to be thinking about the unremitting hell, because your're in it all the fucking time. If I had a green square in the upper right hand corner of my visual field all the time, I'd probably be thinking about green squares. You can't stop thinking about how shitty things are if they're shitty; you just can't.
I know people say, "then introduce some gratitude into your life. Keep a fucking gratitude journal." I'm not saying that's not a good practice. I like the gratitude thing, myself, cuz it does help to fight off depression, at least to a certain extent.
BUT...okay, I do 5 or so minutes of gratitude each day. Yay. Then I go back to stressing about all the bills I can't afford to pay and how I'm so totally fucked that I don't know what to do. And if the law of attraction is true, I'll continue to be fucked, and there really ain't nothing I can do about it.
I guess all I can do about it is go get a nice chocolate cake and eat it. Cuz if I'm totally fucked for the duration of this existence, I might as well have cake, too.
|Monday, September 29th, 2014|
|Sunday, August 10th, 2014|
|Oh, Geez, I haven't posted since January 17.
And now it's August 10th. Shit, dude, shit.http://www.lulu.com/shop/daisy-charles-phd/the-adventures-of-jesus-and-chief-running-dog-volume-1-part-1/paperback/product-21751663.html
Take a look at that. My dear, dear friend, Daisy Charles, just published her very first comic book. We're all so proud of her.
In other news. Um.
No, I've come to the realization that 1. I really need to live somewhere that's in nature or at least close to nature. This urban living is shitfuck. Why should I have to live in shitfuck? It's a stupid way to live. And 2. I neeeeeeeed a job with a guaranteed paycheck. Maybe I'll feel different in a while, but it's too tense and anxiety making to not have one. To have to depend on clientele to make a decent living. Decent? Hah, I'd take living paycheck-to-paycheck if it means my survivial. Fuckity fuck, dude. FUCK.
No, I almost kind of wonder if the thing I need (and I've been thinking this for years) is a job that I don't give a fuck about, that's a steady source of income, and then I can do the other thing on the side. It feels like the other thing would become more meaningful cuz I wouldn't be worrying about it all the time as being something that may or may not ensure my survival. It's too much pressure. I feel like when I go to work, there's a guillotine over my head, and when I do something to displease one of the people I "work for," (and they fire me) then that guillotine comes down. Like oh shit, I can't keep this income going; I'm dead meat.
Shit, dude. That kind of sucks. I wish this society had more working-class jobs like manufacturing or something, cuz I'd take one of those jobs in a heartbeat!!!! Just work in a factory, make a decent living, putting shit together. Then go home, crack open a beer, and not think about anything having anything to do with work. That would be my first choice. Alas. Poopshits.
|Friday, January 17th, 2014|
|Oops, I Forgot To Add A Title
Oh my, it's been about a month since I've posted anything on this blog. That's a month that went by really fast. And now it's the new year, and this is the first posting of the new year. I wonder what the rest of this year is gonna be like. I drew the first page of my new comic book that I'm making. It's actually Page 2, but I wanted to draw it before Page 1 cuz I'm not all-the-way sure what Page 1 is gonna look like.
I still have to figure out how to get the quality of the images better on the first comic book, though. I think my scanner makes crappy images; I think that's what it is. I think it all comes down to that. I don't know what the next step'll be in trying to make it look better. No I have some ideas. I'm determined to make this fucking thing work, dang it all.
I'm teaching myself to draw. I mean, I already know how to do it, to some extent. But I'm tryin' to learn how to do it better. I learned how to draw 1-point perspective last week, and that's what I used for that page I did for the new comic book. I wanna learn 2 point perspective now. And I've been drawing a picture of a guy on a poster of mine over and over. The pictures are getting better and better, as I draw them. It's odd to not have an art teacher, though. I gotta use my own eyeballs for feedback. But that's okay, cuz eyeballs give good feedback. 'Course an art teacher might be able to say why this particular thing looks long, or whatnot.
Whoops, I mean to say "wrong." Why this particular thing looks "wrong."
I keep on forgetting about the thing I wanted to write about. I keep on writing other stuff instead. But now I remember the thing I wanted to write about. It's the word, "unique." I wanted to write about the word, "unique." "Unique" means "one of a kind." As a result, something can be unique, but it can't be "very unique." Because you can't be very one-of-a-kind. You either are or you aren't. When people say "very unique," I think they mean "very original." It made me realize, the other day, that you can be unique, but very unoriginal. "WHAT?????" you might ask. Lemme explain.
Say, you write a song that's really derivative. It sounds a great deal like another band. Say, it sounds like Linkin Park. Like, you might say, "Oh, say, this song sounds just like Linkin Park." But it's actually a whole new song. It's a song that's never been written before. Thus, it's unique, cuz it's a new song. Or, as an even more extreme example: You could have a song that's a total and complete plagiarism of another song, but you put a different bridge in it. The bridge makes it unique. But the song, itself, is unoriginal.
I guess that's all I really had to say about that. It's kind of funny, though. It's a funny distinction. Every person is unique, too. Even identical twins aren't all the way the same as each other. They have minor differences. Every person is unique; but a lot of them are boring. I guess that's just the way of things, I guess. You can be unique and boring and unoriginal all at the same time.
|Wednesday, December 18th, 2013|
|Coincidenting and Hypochondriasis
I think this virus I have is an African Sleeping Sickness variety of flu-bug. No, I guess not cuz that's meningitis and I don't have that (no stiff neck). But all I want to do is sleeeep. The malaise has passed, so I no longer feel sick. But I'm just so damned sleepy!!!!! Oh, my! I thought, what if there's some lurking health problem that's making me sleepy, that's just coincidenting along with the virus? What if it's some awful thing that's got nothing to do with the virus and it's making me sleepy????
But then I talked to somebody else who has the virus, and they're sleepy, too. The virus is making them sleepy, too. That's good. Not that I want this person to be sleepy, but I'm glad I'm not the only one.
It's not like I'm a hypochondriac or anything like that. It makes me wonder why I started thinking the worst. Oh, well. Maybe my sleepiness is making my brain malfunction and this brain malfunction is giving me the hypocondriasis. Ha ha ha.
No, I'm writing about nothing particularly consequential right now. I just wanted there to be some verbal-ness and scrawlings posted above the picture I just posted down there, down below. I wanted there to be a buffer there. Don't ask me why. I just felt like there should be some nice buffer between those 2 characters down below and what people first glance at when they come across this blog.
Dang, though. I'm not sure what motivated me to post that particular picture. If you were to ask me what I like about it, I dunno what I'd say, except that it's funny to draw characters who are all paranoid, almost as if they've smoked a bunch of weed, and now they're suspicious of each other, even though they're actually best friends.
I have a lot more that I'm thinking of saying about those 2 characters down below, but I think I'll keep it to myself. Yeah, I think I'll keep it all to myself. That's right.
Okay, I should probably do some dishes.
|Monday, December 16th, 2013|
|Rich PPL and Nature - Fuckpoopshitfartfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckturdfuck
I was driving around the other day, looking for places to run in this dumb area I just moved to. I remembered that the house I used to live in - when I lived here before - was near some really pretty foothills. I thought, cool, I'll look and see if there're any places to run in those there foothills. Cuz, like, nature is a nice place to run in.
I mean, I could just run on the streets here, in LA-poops, but I'd rather run in nature. So I drove to those there hills in Altadena to take a look and see where I could run.
I drove up this 1 street, and I was almost at the hills. Yay!!!!
I thought. But, wait, no. I came to this gate. It was this guarded-gate-thingy that looked like it was the barrier between the regular-world and a rich-people-housing-complex. Dang, I said.
So I drove up another street. Dead end.
Then I drove up another street. Dead end at an ugly-looking park.
Then I drove up another street. I was just about at the foot of the foothills, and I thought, Yaaaaay!!!! I'm almost there.
Wait, no, it was another gate to another rich-people-housing complex. It seems that, if you want to get near nature, these days, you have to be rich enough to own property in nature. All the rest of us have to settle for looking at it from a distance. (Okay, I'm exaggerating here, just a bit, but the absurdity of it all makes me want to um, I don't know. Laugh and cry and rip things apart all at once).
Like, back in the day, before humans thought it was a good idea to build ugly buildings ontop of everything, like back in the Tribal, Hunter-Gatherer-Days, or whatever-you-wanna-call-it, like, all there was was nature. We were surrounded by it. Because it was the world. Right?
And then humans decided to put ugly buildings on every square foot they could get their hands on. But then they realized, oh shit
. There's something about nature that we miss. it's really sad.
So they decided that people with millions of dollars who could afford to live in these gated communities were privileged enough to be in nature. All the rest of us must consign ourselves to these concrete jungles that look like shit and are filled with carcinogens and all that poopystuff.
Okay, yeah, I'm exaggerating a bit. But there's still a bit o' truth in it. I mean, anybody can go to a national park if they have the leisure time to be able to get there. But, like, it's odd that the WHOLE WORLD used to look like nature, cuz that's just how the regular-world is/was. And now in order to be able to see things the way they used to look, you have to drive a long distance, and be met with a stupid gate. Or be rich enough to be able to afford it. Poopywipes. Fuckpoopshitfartfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck
|Thursday, December 12th, 2013|
It's been about a month since my last posting, or, well, it's been a month minus a week. I thought I'd post something cuz I'm in between things at the moment. Oh, dude. I feel like I'm fighting something off, some kind of illness. I'm just getting more and more faded over the course of the day. I dunno what it is I have, though. I really dunno what it is. But it gave me funky dreams this morning. This morning's dreams were funky. I keep on dreaming of a male person sleeping on the ground or on the floor (the exact person it is varies from dream to dream). It always seems rather expected that he's sleeping there, even though it would be odd in real life. But, at the same time, there's an expectation to get him up off the floor.
If you were to ask a Gestalt therapist what it all means, they might tell you it means that part of me is asleep. I wonder which part it is. I was gonna say "the male part" but for some reason that doesn't fit, all-the-way. It's more like there were different aspects to these male figures that made them not-just-general. Oh, my I don't know that this writing is making very much sense at all. Oh, man, I'm tired.
My disky thing is in the next room, though, and the room is closed, and I can't go through the closed door until someone opens it again. The disky thing is called a "thumb drive" by some people and a "jump drive" by other people. I always forget the name of a thumb or a jump drive, and in my state of anomia, resort to saying "disky thing."
I think that's cuz "disk" is the archaic term for a data storage device. And somehow I'm stuck in archaic times, or disk-times.
The same thing happens when I try to think of the name, "DVD." I say, "tape," even though I haven't regularly used a video tape in about 10 or so years.
I don't have problems saying "CD" or "MP3 File," though, or at least not that I noticed. I think I started using CD's instead of tapes before my brain became all petrified and stopped learning how to use new names for things. I think that's it. CD's replaced tapes before DVD's replaced tapes and jump drives replaced disks. I think the period of time during which the video tapes and disks got replaced was after my brain stopped being able to learn new facts. But CD's replacing tapes was before that period of time.
You know, I never thought disks would go obsolete. They use disks on the old Star Trek, and all that. Like, their view of the long, distant future had disks in it.
'Course, as a kid, growing up, my view of the future was a lot like Star Trek. I dunno how many years ago it was that that view changed dramatically. Now, when you see documentaries and stuff that say, "...if our species is still alive in 200 years...." that sounds all normal. I have to keep on reminding myself that not-so-many-years-ago, it seemed like the future would have robots and stuff in it. And now the future seems like it won't have any people in it, at all. Or if there are any, like, they'll be living differently than we do, cuz we're all living so unsustainably.
But most people already know we're living unsustainably (or at least I'm assuming that - I could be wrong). It's not big news that we're living unsustainably. It's not like anybody's changing that, though. I dunno how I, even, would change that. Ride a bike to work, I suppose, except that would increase my chances of getting hit by a car. I wouldn't like that. No, I wouldn't like that at all.
|Tuesday, November 19th, 2013|
|More Writing About Writing
The thing I like about NaNoWriMo-poopy-poopy-ones is the fact that it forces you to write a lot in a day. I forgot how much 1667 words was, in terms of how it compares to how much I would usually write in a day, under normal circumstances. I like the 1667, cuz I've been finding, as of late, all these crazy-ass, weird, cool ideas come out near the end of the writing - during maybe about the last 1/4 of the day's writings. It's like, whoah, I think writing past the point where I even give a crap what it sounds like opens the door for all these cool ideas to come through.
Oh, my. No I know what I'll do. I'll post my NaNoWriMo excerpt on here. In it, there's a moth fluttering on the table between 2 characters.I’m not looking directly at George, but I can see that he’s looking at the moth, too.
“Why can’t it fly?” I say. “It’s just fluttering.”
George says, “It’s too fat.”
“Oh,” I say. “Why’d it be too fat?” That’s confusing. I didn’t think there’d be moths too fat to fly. That seems like an evolutionary disadvantage.
George says, “I think it’s a girl moth – it’s got eggs and all those eggs make it fat.”“Oh,” I say. That sounds really boring, to be a moth that’s so full of eggs that it can’t fly. That sounds like a boring life.
And here's the cover of the NaNoWriMo book:If you've seen my song blog, you probably know that this is the illustration for a song in there, as well. This structure really is what the story's about - it really is! It's just a very abstract representation of it. Although if I wanted it to reflect, more accurate, the pisspoor poopy landscape that the characters go through, it would be more dark blue-ish in color.