text: xc

text: I'm very tired. I'm not sure why I haven't gone to bed yet. I seem to avoid that, some nights. Like everything's okay when I'm still up and watching TV. I'm not afraid of the dark, just of what I can't see.

I know I need to make friends here. I need to go out, socialize. Move on. It's not that easy, though. I keep expecting to get a lecture from Mom. I've gotten them before. She just keeps saying how I sound like I'm adjusted, okay -- which I kind of am, but it's mostly that I'm better when I'm talking to her. Or to anyone, really. Which is natural -- it keeps the loneliness at bay. I don't spend all of the rest of the time moping, don't get me wrong. I've always liked solitude, to a much larger extent than most people. But I know, I /know/ I need people here. And I can't just wait for Megan to move down, even though she is. She's going to be traveling a lot, and I'm sure she'll make other friends, too. Which is /good/ -- we both need to have people outside or our friendship will strain. A person's happiness should not depend solely on one other person. It's not healthy.

I want a boyfriend, too, but I'm not chomping at the bit for it. First things first -- I need a local support structure before I can feel comfortable dating.

I really should go to bed. Like I said, I'm very tired.

text: hhrt

text: vxcvxcvx cv xwcv xc v xc vw xcvw cx vw xcv wxcv

text: "z

text: ~ESCAPE DRAMA~

text: everything will be fine. this I keep telling him to reassure him but at the same time to try and make myself believe it. it will work out in the end, we'll both go back to uni and then it will be fine. I hope.

I've never seen him so... vulnerable. he's scared and that makes me scared because he's always so much stronger than I am. he's been through so much more than me. I'm like a blank, plain slate to his weathered, scarred and decorated slab. I can be the strong one for a little while but I can't keep it up like he can. and I'm worried I'll need to. I'm worried that it won't work out and we'll both have to be the strong ones and we'll be alone for much, much longer than we anticipated. I couldn't handle that. right now I get by with the thought of being back with him in the front of my mind at all times. soon. 5 weeks more of 'soon'.

text: je suis arrivé sur cette page espérant trouver un problème à mon sacnner brisé. broken scanner. but it wasn't what i was looking for. so i ended up here writing for five minutes. j'ai mis pearly de radiohead et dead leaves and the dirty ground des white stripes. à écouter pendant. mais, bon. 5 minutes passent vites.

text: Yeah.

So I just toasted my ancient graphics card.

And here's the worst thing. I can't decide if it was the modem getting stuck to the heat sync that did it, or all the dust my brother warned me about. Either way, I'm never trying to install a PCI card when the computer is still standing upright.

At least, not when it's my last open port because I've had to add so much crap to it since the tower is a bagillion years old.

That's life for you, I suppose.

text: this type of love can't be healthy. if you're not here, i can't find a reason to live. i have lost my identity, my sense of self. i am nothing without you. when im with you, im so happy -- happier than i've ever been. but everytime you leave, even for a few hours, i am constantly afraid that you will not come back and i will be left with nothing. and now you're gone again. i miss you so much. i hate being alone.

text: I have about five minutes 'til I need to start heading to class, and I haven't done this in a while (since it's been broken) so... I might as well.

Not that I have much to say. And I did just (finally) get an email. I'd been getting slightly put out that no one was posting/commenting on LJ. Which is silly when you come right down to it, because it's not like people have an obligation to entertain me. But it makes me sad when I post something and get no response at all. To be fair, though, it's been less than two hours since I posted it, and a lot of people work. Not everyone has barrels of free time in the middle of the day! I won't, come fall. *sigh* My last semester of school. It's going to be a busy one. Complete with spending as much time as possible with my friends, since I'll be running off to Ohio next year.

It's a little strange to be thinking about graduating when I'm nearly surrounded by FASET people -- that's our orientation for incoming freshmen.

I should have used some of my time between classes to write. I like writing. It's fun! And gets me attention in fandom, which I like. I'd like to be one of the people who is known to be a good writer. I'm not sure if I'm there yet, but I have had a few people "friend" me to read my fic. That's a nice feeling. Good for the self-esteem. That's a big part of my motivation for a lot of things. Upping the self-esteem. It's not a good motive, but there it is.

I'm not looking forward to figuring out what to do next year. I know what my first choice is, since it works out the best, logistically... but I also need to look into psych grad school, in addition to the master's of Human Factors program that's based in the school of engineering. I really like the psychological aspect of things, so part of me says I should go that route. But I might not have the prereqs, and my engineereing degree works well with going into the school of engineering. I just don't know what I want to do. I'm never good at figuring that out.

text: you'll have to excuse me from writing five minutes worth of test data.

text: It's that time in the morning when it's either really early or really late, depending on how you look at it. From my view though, considering my eyes are burning from lack of sleep, it's really really late. I should go to bed but i find myself here, not knowing why. Somehow this website popped into my head because I remembered it from friends in high school. Then I wondered where the time has gone and where it's going to take me. Kind of deep, seedy thoughts that I shouldn't have this late. Oh well, where else is my brain going to escape to, guess this is sort of the point of this place. You don't know who you're talking to but you mostly talk to yourself. This feels like somewhere that you would say things that you've always wanted to say but never have. Hmmm... that's all for me. Kind of liked this place, I should come back sometime.

text: SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM! SPAM!

Attack...

text: Ok... so I have my friend who keeps posting MY WEBSITE address on this board... really wierd huh? And his name seems to be one of the characters he designed for my website.... now that is what I call WIERD! So what am I doing here? Absoloutely nothing! I'm bored out of my head. I'm working on my Website at the moment, and like my friend said: Some of the links on it are sh**. But who cares? I have about like 6 unique visitors everyday. But do they complain? (Or maybe it's because I haven't given them a place to complain). Anyway, I'm just sitting here typing so fast that my hand is in pain. OUCH! oh whoops, I can't believe I just typed that. OUCH! I think I'm getting blisters (Thank gosh for the soft black keyboard). Anyway, so I stuffed up my script for my hit counter, and ended up fixing it the whole night... I wish I could get my Admin Area working and my PHPbb forum working without the database. But who cares? I bet none of you are web masters that would be able to help me. Now... I'm starting to run out of things to say again like I did last time. Hey I'm still managing to continue typing stuff! Hey I'm still going... (OH GOD THIS COULD GO ON FOREVER). Why can't I make my flash toons fast enough. Everyone's erging me to make them and fast! Oh well... back to work I go....

text: TURN UP THE SUN - Oasis

I carry a madness
everywhere I go
over the border
and back to the snow...

you ever wake up and it's one of those days? well, this has been one of them. it all stems from... god knows what. I blitzed this day... but if I blitzed it, why do I feel so weird? I know why. I'm going stir crazy. I only talk to the people I know; friends, relatives. don't even mention work. the people I try to strike up conversations with invariably think I'm deranged, weird, sad, whatever. and why the HELL is that? because I'm trying to talk to you for a reason other than being forced to, to chew the fat, pass the time, even, *GASP!*, discuss something? well screw you too buddy.

it's just the same things, day in, day out, waiting for the police to contact me, waiting for some major event or occurance, waiting to stop being so physically ill and being able to do something different. and you know the only thing I can do differently? it's talk, that and play something else, watch something else, read something else. soon, I'll order some stuff. and until then?

I'll make more people think I'm stalking them. I should be used to people thinking I'm weird; I should just do what I'm gonna do. and I hope this gut feeling thing goes away soon... it has no right to be here. damn it, I may be stressed, but when the hell do I feel that? screw you and go away. just because I get Wicked Sick in UT2004 doesn't mean I should start to twitch and spasm.

here's a weird thought. maybe no one does think I'm weird and stalking them? maybe the non-communicado is just "wow. you're too smart, man" or "I'm too busy, sorry man" or "Cthulu mucked with my tech stuff, I didn't get anything from you man". I'll think like that from now on. because you know what? I rock, and I know I rock, and anyone who doesn't know I rock is missing out on... solidified molten fire! yes, I have ego problems. I think I may have already said this, but screw you.

and whilst the desire to mask who I am is tempting, people would recognise me anyway. so fuck that. oasis is just such a giveaway...

so if you see me
and I look right through
you shouldn't take it
as a reflection on you

the boys in the bubble
they wanna be free
and they got so blind
that they could not see

but I'm not your keeper
I don't have your key
I got a piano
I can't find the c

come on! turn up the sun
turn it up for everyone...

text: I am going to eat me some KFC because I am hungover. Why does junk food taste so good when you feel so shit?? I hate it normally but today I am getting me some of the colonels chicken.... mmmmmmmmmmmm. Booze is bad for your head and for your tummy. I want to go back to bed so I can sleep this off man. has this been five minutes.....? I'm bored. Bye bye

text: Five. More. Minutes.
The obvious question is "why?". I like questions. No, that isn't right; I have to answer questions. Especially the difficult ones.
I can't even *remember* the question now. You need five more minutes. From me. From anyone. Anyone who can get to this site is equally qualified - you just sit down and type for five minutes which you'd probably do anyway. What does Inpheaux want? Five more minutes. There. It's answered. Get back to writing.
...
There's a lot of mentions of "escape" here. These five minutes... they're for someone to escape. Maybe Inpheaux. Maybe anyone who views the minutes past.
Maybe for me.
We all want to escape, don't we? That's why we're here on a computer, in some regards. It doesn't mean your life is awful, or that you hate it, or any of those things (though you might) - it just means that sometimes life is a bit too much and you just
Need
Some
Escape.
Three minutes. I type kinda fast.
Computer games. They're escape as well. "I am Kyle Katarn, Jedi Knight and overall good guy!" Of course not; but you play the game to unwind from life or to block it out or whyever the hell you do it.
It's interesting to note that some people have chosen to escape by talking about personal things. The opposite of escape, in a sense; things you want to deal with but can't talk about or face or deal with in the "real" world. Women and men, it seems. Everyone has something they want to deal with but can't; it's a measure of society somehow. "I was X" "Y happened to me" "I was addicted to Z".
Fuck, this is a sick place. Sick world.
At least I could escape for five minutes, eh?

text: well i have no idea why i'm doing this i whent to my friends site it stuffed so i whent to skizzers and followed the link.....sigh.....are you like one of those womans day writers hoping maddona or kylie will do something ....sigh.... five minutes is so long ........ theres a bear in there and a cnhair as well i don't know the rest...... i hate womans day stupid bloody womans day the dumb women who read it .....sigh..... why are u doing this its addictive tying when noone will listen .....sigh..... welll alomost five minutes ....sigh... sigh...

VISIT www.skizzers.org/maroon its really good exept some links are sh** ..........sigh...............

im really typing alot of stuff

i kicked over the rubbish bin just then ...... ooooooooooooo theres an apple thats just a little bit mouldy ......................................yum that was delicious oh sorry i didn't meen to type that .....sigh five bloody minutes of boring hell wow this is fun happy happy happy happy happy happy happy happy ummmmm VISIT www.skizzers.org/maroon .................... wow ................... dejavu [damn i dont know how to spell deajavoo] ummm VISIT www.skizzers.org/maroon .................... wow ................... dejavu [damn i dont know how to spell deajavoo] ummmmmmmmmmmmmm VISIT www.skizzers.org/maroon .................... wow ................... dejavu [damn i dont know how to spell deajavoo] ummmmmmmmmmmmmm VISIT www.skizzers.org/maroon .................... wow ................... dejavu [damn i dont know how to spell deajavoo] ummmmmmmmmmmmmm VISIT www.skizzers.org/maroon .................... wow ................... dejavu [damn i dont know how to spell deajavoo] ummmmmmmmmmmmmm VISIT www.skizzers.org/maroon .................... wow ................... dejavu [damn i dont know how to spell deajavoo] ummmmmmmmmmmmmm VISIT www.skizzers.org/maroon .................... wow ................... dejavu [damn i dont know how to spell deajavoo] ummmmmmmmmmmmmm VISIT www.skizzers.org/maroon .................... wow ................... dejavu [damn i dont know how to spell deajavoo] help me ummmmmmmmmmmmmm VISIT www.skizzers.org/maroon .................... wow ................... dejavu [damn i dont know how to spell deajavoo]
im really crazy v crazy crazy crazy crazy crazy crazy crazy

text: nvnbb;;vvmmfldmvmmigogmgkbm.vmbgbmpfgbmt;bbss;sfvjvmb;bt;hhng;dfdstrrkbddkbnlfkdddddddddddddddddddfkmglbmdlk;lss himlnc; ;cnac;nca hi mnainrp,pcnputgnp,vunv,npcnwnwvocionxcjkgpv im ds;alnsunvucpnc,no,nounpuxn,u,nxboiuh crazy cjklnmlgntuicxneic

text: well it's been a while....but then you only asked for five minutes....not five minutes everyday....so here's five more minutes....where to begin?....probably with the fact that i'm still stuck at home for physical therapy and not at school where i want to be so i can see all my classmates graduate....and be with my friends...and ride again....but instead i'm stuck in a city i hate...and the one thing i found....well the one guy i found to make it seem not so bad just picked me up tonight and on our way to a friend's house we argued and he dropped me off at home again....like i was only gone from the house for 10 minutes or so....not long at all....and when i was getting out of the car i said i'll talk to you later....and he said maybe...like he didn't want to talk to me...and so now i'm in a bad mood and don't want to talk to him and wondering if i even want to be with him anymore....of course i'm also wondering what it is about me that makes guys act like this around me....i was a tomboy growing up and i really don't have many female friends 'cause most of my friends are guys and so why can't i keep a guy interested in me?.....am i too much like one of the guys? but how many guys want their girls to get into football and fixing cars and not really wanting to go out very often but would rather stay in and watch tv? how many times do i hear my friends say this? and yet i somehow end up with guys that just don't seem to want it from me.....so i give up....either i have no taste in guys and just seem to pick all the wrong ones....or there's something wrong with the way i act....either way there's something wrong with me...that's the only solution i can come up with.....and if there's nothing wrong with me then all guys really are dogs....and my dad was right....god sometimes i really hate admitting that....

text: I think I'm getting sick. No, I know I'm getting sick. *sigh* Megan's been sick for the past week or so, so I guess it's to be expected. But I'd hoped I wouldn't. It's bad timing -- I get to see dad tomorrow for the first time in ages, and I have a test on monday...

This song plus doing this somehow felt familiar. Or maybe not /this/ in particular, but something with a similar interface. Maybe I listened to it when I used to MUD. That's quite possible. I get occasional flashes when I listen to the slayer's themes, too. It's interesting what gets linked in my brain... a song will remind me of something/someone/sometime, just for a moment. Sometimes it's good, sometimes it's bad. The word "sometimes" still catches me on occasion....

I'm starting to get into that foggy-headed unable-to-think mode that comes with being sick. Ugh. This is going to suck.

People like my writing. I am happy. :D Writing fanfic (yes, fanfic, don't hate me) is a wonderful thing. Because it gets read by people who are just as obsessed about the shows as you are, and therefore they *know*. And they understand. And if you get the characters right, they love you for it. I'm not wonderful, but I have my moments. Some of my fics have gotten great feedback. And I'm a feedback whore, you know. Actually, that reminds me of psych (intro to personality) -- one of the "behavior signatures" the book uses as an example is the Rejection Sensitivity signature. Not only do people with that signature watch for possibilities of rejection, but they also "blossom with any evidence of acceptance." Yeah. So me. I never gave that much thought before. Now I notice it all the time, and can't help but think, "Wow, I'm pathetic."

text: Helllo i have no idea why i'm writing this? i just followed a link that leads to this strange site. I don't even know why i even bother typing and stuff. Well i guess i might aswell just type and type and type for no reason what so ever. Hey, the blank space is actually getting used up. Wow i'm so amazed at this. Well anyway. I have just run out of things to say. Darn. Oh hey, i'm still going. This is sooooooo amazing. I guess.... actually not really. The thing that could be really amazing is that there is nothing for me to talk about and that I have just filled up half this text box. Oh wel. hey this box has a good font! Well... that's all for me I guess.... right? oh. Welll. Ok then. keep on talking, talking talking talking. Oh boy. my arms are starting to feel really painfull. i better stop now. But if i stop now, then what was the point of me coming here. I didn't even get a chance to write my name and e-mail and webpage and stuff. Oh well. So... darn, I just stopped for about 20 seconds. If i continue like this, then my arm r gonna fall off...

text: here I go again. whenever the scorp's got a problem, she turns to escape to get it all off her chest, and cringes at it minutes later. once more into the breach, I suppose...

so here's a lovely moral dilemma(which if I were a saint wouldn't be such a dilemma at all, but there's no such thing, you know?): somebody uploads, whether intentionally or unintentionally, a chatlog between themselves and a friend. into a directory which isn't exactly secret - not locked or hidden away, never to be spoken of, but just not seen by most. so possibly secret. I don't know if this person knows that I know about this directory - there are other places I could have come by those mp3s, I guess.
but what if they do know, and this is some kind of... test? or a subtle hint? says the little voice in the back of my head. go on... it says. read it. after all, if all is well you have nothing to worry about... right? and if all isn't well, you should know... right?

but this is like spying. I don't think they'd really do that - that sick test idea. would they? can I trust my judgement on *anyone's* character?

of course I'm scared that the voice is right. if it's right about this, maybe it's right about everything else...
when somebody laughs just as you enter the room, they're laughing at you.
when somebody smiles at you, they just want to get on your good side in case they need french homework in a hurry.
they invited you because they invited *everyone*. but you knew *that* already, didn't you?
they don't like you, they pity you.
you think it can't happen to you, and that's why it will.
you're a poor judge of character - you think the best of everyone.
get a grip.



jesus...

text: i hate it. it's always unending. even as this new year has already begun, the lack of interesting things in my life never seems to dull it's edge. nothing happens; nothing great, nothing horrible. more than likely, if anything were to happen, it would be unfavorable. not that i'm not pessimistic, it's just that this world is not as optimistic as I am. then again, the world is not as cool as one would like to think either.

so, this year seems like the last. work, school, and work. nothing more than that, nothing less. If i could afford my own place to live, things would be wonderful, but as it is, jobs that pay well are few and very far between. THAT and when i finally land a job, they usually only keep me for three months. i'm a job drifter.

so apathy. apathetic towards everything. i don't care about the meteors, the quakes, nor do I care for anything else but myself. as you live the day, there are things to cling to, things to care about. but not today.

text: With all of todays politiacl nonsense that is fklopating around, how do you decide who to vote for. I haven't figured that out yet. So I decided to not vote until I can find a person who doesn't "sling mud" at their opponent. When I find that person I will evaluate that person with great detail. If this person has plans to turn our government into a democracy then I give them a few good "points". If they decide to do away with the whole voting system and make our representatives vote on their own personal judgement then they get a lot of bad "points".I may only be 16 at the time I typed this but I have a good veiw on this whole Bush Kerry thing. Even though it's all over with. The true winner should have been the people. But unfortunatly it isn't that way. All in all it should be power to the people and doing the whole democracy is all the government has been avoiding for the longest time. So lets do away with the government. Have a political debate, but take away the political parties. And for your sake, make some of your own decisons and have your own life for a change. Thanks for listening to me rant about the world and it's problems.

text: everything2 calls it body hunger, and I got it bad. I just... I *need* closeness, I need to snuggle up with someone and feel the warmth and closeness and love and just exist in that perfect wonderfulness for ever and ever. world without end amen, like...
will anyone even see this, and if they do would they care?

ever since halloween's aftermath, and that damn election plastered all over the newspaperstvinternet(even in school!), everything's been DIFFERENT and bad. and I keep telling myself it'll blow over, we'll adapt and adjust but in the meantime it's so terribly lonely here, kicking up the autumn leaves and looking at the sunset, that glorious golden glow up there, and wanting to share it. sharing it.

and... nothing? great. cool. not really though.

was it really so terrible, that it sparked this change? this distance? I don't know - can't know, really. it occurs to me that all this time I've been living such a sheltered life, and it just doesn't compare really.

I'm confused and upset but it will fix itself in time. he will.

I keep telling myself this.

text: you want five minutes of writting? ok, here it goes, this is my best shot, i wil not stop my giners moving on th board at anytime, so basically, if nothing makes sense, then its because i ran out of things to say, andi'll jump from topic to topic yea, so like, i found this website called tuckermax.com, and its these stories about this guy named tucker, and its all real, and theyre all his stories, but like, they are super funny. and hes an amazin pimp, everything i wish i could be. insulting girls and still get head from them later on that night. yea... so thats awesome. what i would really like to be doing right now thou is playin World of Warcraft, because i was in the close dbeta, and it fucking ruled, but the servers are down now and im sad, concidering its the best game i've ever played. and no, im not a geek. actually, im on the football team, and im a starting reciever. i also start midfielder for our soccer team. both varisty sports. isnt that niffty? that i can be coola nd play vdeo games all in the same day? i think that is neat.ok my arm is getting tired o this... i stil have like a minute and thirty seconds lef tto type thou... hmm... i think i'll talk baout WoW. yea, its so cool. my friend and i are gunan play. ok, thats done. i hate my soccer coach. he sucks. ok, im done with that too.. i should be doing spanish homeowrk, like my essay and activities in the workbook, but i dont want to i want to write for 5 minutes to a stranger because why? because eh asked me to thats why. and i wanna be tucker max drunk with tucker death mix. its soooo good... i really like alcoholic drinkls... like ruma nd coke is very very good. and absinthe, speakin of i just ordered a bottle of it from the czech republic, crazy huh, and their importing it to the united states, even thou its illegal here. thats insane, its gunna make me trip like none other. okay, i think my times up, bye!

text: I need something that you cannot feel or express in words. Something that is so far, and so obtuse that in order for me to express any semibalance of it, I need you to dream of it, and dream with me and travel there to that place I think about daily.

I think everyone has this moment within there lives, wether they act on it our not. they just have that unexp[rssable feeling of just needing...

The closest words I can get to describing what I'm referring to but unable to say is...journey. Finding more that a piece of the univrse for myself, but a piece of me that has been lost since birth. A meaning that extends beyond reason, but into complacent, maybe peace.

The world seems more that just a place of monotone jobs, and chaotic events tempering on moods, but it seems to hint with a maybe a subconcious mode of dreams that have already happens, and falls, that are being relived, and journey's...epics, which are touching those moments all over again...and again.


I wish to travel not to just find myself.
But to find the Universe. To find something that will give me a rest when its my time to die, and not a handul of regrets.


I the truth about this life, and if there is a truth in the next, I want that too.





I want to ecape into something to farscape to be real...but I know it always, and forever more ...







will be,

text: meow.

text: Haven't done this in a while . . . I have my journal and all that, but this is fun.

Since when is there webmail? Somehow I never knew about it. Or maybe I did, and I forgot. But hey, that's useful for other times. Not so much now, unless I get to the library when there aren't kids all over the computers. And I haven't brought my laptop. I'm not allowed to check outside email at work. Not even school email, sadly. Fooey. That looks weird. A lot of words look odd, you know? Especially if you stare at them long enough. Maybe everything looks weird if you stare at it long enough. Or maybe you just get used to it. I had one of those moments last night when you look into the mirror and don't recognize yourself. It happens sometimes. I get confused . . . I am confused. Most of the time. Odd when the person you spend the most time with is someone you want to hide certain things from. Or maybe not so odd. Maybe it's my way of keeping a bit of distance. Maybe I just feel more comfortable talking about things to others. Not that I do, very often. I don't keep in touch with people. I don't make the effort. It's not that I don't miss them . . . I just don't do it. I'm too lazy to force myself to pick up the phone. Okay, I've gone over this enough. Elsewhere, even. Hm, scribble's gone, isn't it? I imagine. Kinda sad. I had a few entries on there that would have been nice to have around somewhere. Then again, it's probably better that they're gone. Sometimes the past can be depressing. I still like that name, though. Induil. I remember sitting in christina's room, trying to come up with a name. Don't know how we eventually got that one. Names are good. Names should be good. Names should mean something.

And it's a beautiful life . . .

text: i love horses...and much as i'm going to love going home....i'm leaving my babies back at school and that's going to suck....wish i could take my Nicki with me...then perhaps surgery wouldn't be so bad....but where are you going to put a 1200 lb. animal in the middle of a city?...won't work...but oh well it's not forever, and then i can ride my baby again....and sailors too....man this weekend has been great....

text: Here is five minutes worth of writing...I suppose from the title that this is supposed to be theraputic...well, it has been suggested that writing, like talking out our problems, helps to relieve stress. I am especially interested in stream of conscious writing, which is what I am doing right now. Stream of conscious is fun and can lead to some surreal things, but it could also spiral into scary recesses in your brain. For example, if you had a crazy secret or embarassing fantasy, it might come out in a stream of consciousness writing exercise. OK, I know this is supposed to be 5 minutes, but I am already bored.

text: fgfg

text: Here I am, sitting at college on a sharp september morning. I'm using a demon Mac, my boyfriend is sitting next to me and I am happy. I've had a hard time being happy, in a wierd way it's new to me. I've not felt something like this for a while. Everything feels OK. I feel right now that for once, the world is not about to colllapse on my head, that the urge to crumble is not too strong, that the beautiful sky is not tainted with feelings of desperate escapism. I wanted to record this, because I tend to fall down far too quickly. I wanted to see this so that when the sky does fall down, I have something to look back on and smile about. I want this year to be the year where I sort my life out. I want to do well.

text: laying under a palm tree, feeling the warm breeze and the rush of the ocean...kissing....rolling....pounding waves....intense pleasure....orgasmic passion like nothing ever experienced before. Being pressed against someone yet stil lnot close enough....yet so close two bodies become one and you don't know if .....

text: have you ever thought about running away to join the circus?....i never did till recemtly.....now it seems to be all i can think about...hehehe....^-^ wish i could....i would do it too....anyway...i know this is nowhere near five minutes, but i had to do something with my time...

text: see...life is so funny sometimes....just when you think nothing can ever get better, it does....and right now i'm not even looking for the downside of life...'cause well....i just don't care.....life is so wonderful right now....i don't think i've smiled like this in years....it's definitely a wonderful feeling..."they've got catfish on the table....they've got gospel in the air...." right now my head is filled with nothing but happy music even though i am the tiniest bit sad...."i sing to life and to its tragic beauty ....to pain and to strife and all that dances through me....the rise and the fall ...." yeah right now nothing can go wrong and nothing will 'cause even if this doesn't work out well at least i tried and i'm not getting hung up over the past anymore...well back to the books....hopefully i can concentrate now...that's my biggest problem is not being able to concentrate through all the happiness...every time i get my thoughts under control i remember what it is that makes me so happy....well i think it's been five minutes now and i just seem to keep repeating myself....

text: the end? why do people care about the end so much? they ought to pay attention to the path. that's the part that matters... 42, ha. i just remembered how silly life is... should i look with pity on my fellow man, or share in the mirth? what a choice. here i am, trapped. ha! why does fate torture me? maybe i'm alone... well of course i am, but maybe i'm not alone in that which is of course and everyone else just can't see. it makes sense, which is why it's so absurd... it's all just so contrived. i can't stand contrivances, and that's why i'm so bad at this. i should be more surgical and appreciate the blade.

text: i hate being up early on the weekends...there's just nothing to do so i sit in my room by myself and listen to music while surfing...i know there are better things i could do with my time, such as cleaning...lord knows my room could use it...only problem is i have to be in a good mood to clean...and unfortunately i'm not...i'm depressed 'cause of people...people who broke my heart and continue to break it...so of course i listen to the most depressing music i can think of...country...most poeple would question that choice, but i don't....anyway one more hour till the pow-wow starts again so here i sit...just doing nothing....maybe in an hour i'll go...but for now i'm stuck...god i wish there were more people here or that i was at home with my friends...then i could at least have something to do...well even though my five minutes aren't up...i should leave...if i don't i'll just keep repeating myself...people suck...i refuse to love again...

text: I'm cheating and taking two escapes. They don't seem to be doing it for me, though. I need a more immersive one, something which can make me forget this idiotic reality. I guess that is a bit more than a simple escape. I need a good book, like the series A Song of Ice and Fire, by George R. R. Martin. Someone recommend a good fantasy book, please.

text: Whoever said, "Lashing out only creates more problems," was wrong. I might have lost my mind if I hadn't. Surely that would have been much worse than lashing out. But why am I under such mental duress? I can alleviate it by just saying, "Fuck it. Not my problem." Or at least postpone it. Is it because the repercussions are more terrible down the road? Ah, it's because if I don't fix it, no one will. What a bitch.

text: well mother theresa was right...death is not the opposite of life...but it sure as hell hurts...and i swear if i loose another friend to that moron's stupidity i'm going to scream and hunt him down....fucked up false election....viva la revolucion!....that's what we need if he's reelected...a revolution...we need this nation to rise up and say what's what...we need more common sense...we need so much...so much...and no one's doing anything about it...it's just not right...how can we claim to be free when all we do is enslave each other every day, and we never want to pay the consequences of our actions....it's just not right...it's not fair, but nothing ever is...not even our most important election processes....and we're loosing our history too...to the victors go the spoils, and the victors write the history books...remember that...we must preserve the truth, not the story fabricated to pacify the masses....the truth is passed on from mother to daughter, generation to generation....don't let their deaths be in vain. don't let our world go to hell....bring it back from the brink of destruction and know that there is good in this world....nothing seems to help, but everything does....'mind the threefold law ye should, three times bad and three times good, what thee send forth come back to thee, so ever mind the law of three'...simply saying let's change the world for the better...we need goodness to come to light...we need to dispell the darkness that reigns....we should....we need....we have to do something and throw off our shackles...we need to take our destinies into our own hands again and deliver ourselves from the evil that abounds....

text: Song Lyrics are fun, various other things, include pasta and guitar strings. if all is totalled, is that a real word, anyways, it was almost a year ago, since i last ate chips with cheese, aye true i said, very true, anyways, how many fingers am i holding up, thought so. cheese is cool,a nd cool isn't cheese, so don't get shit mixxed up, i spelt it wrong i know.

text: I found the escape script by browsing the web for a script that I could use to post comments, and maybe use as a simple web chat on occasions. I didn't want any SQL requirements, or anything like that.

So I got ezcape when I read about it in an answer the author had posted to someone's query about another similar script, and downloaded it. I placed it on my server (I don't have PHPon my local machine), and took IE to the page. I had checke dthe PHP scripts for variables, but hadn't even read any of the HTML. I had tried a few script samples in this way, and most of them just bring up a single 'comments' type page, ready for entry. What I got with Excape was an entire templated site, ready to go. And what an intriguing template! One of my semi-ideas for usage of this script was to make a simple single file weblog page, and another was for a time-delay web chat with my ex, who I have an on again / off again thing going on. When I read the text prompting me for just five minutes, I nearly starte writing out what I was thinking about at that time. Why? To let off a little pressure, to get some Escape.

It wouldn't work properly, though, on my server. I had decided to get it all working before i gave in to any temptation, so I set out instead to learn how to deal with a bunch of PHP errors about permissions required to open a stream. Now , I'm not much of a web programmer, more of a script hacker, heh. I find bits of other people's code that do what I want, and learn from that how to build what I am looking for. Anyhow, a few searches later, I realized that I probably needed to CHMOD the Escape directory. Sure enough, that took care of it, and the script started to actually publish what I was writing.

'Round about this time, I checked my email, and what did I find but a mail from the author of Escape, asking me if I'd gotten it working! I had found a variable containing an email address in one of the PHP scripts, and changed it to mine, just in case it was used. But since I didn't spend much time reading the templates before I ran the script, I never found the code that generates the mail, which is in one of the HTML files. MAN I was glad I hadn't responded to that initital temptation to pour out my inner frustration into 'an empty text file'. Joshua, however, was pretty friendly. We shared a couple of emails about what I had done with the script, and what kind of stuff he gets with his e-mail built into it.

I have some time to kill today, so decided to use google to see if I could find anyone else running the escape template site. I found this one, which is right on the Author's site, so I assume this is his. It looks like what with the other distractions I have going on, I'm giving up about ten minutes for this little story about my 'escape' adventures. The escape script is great, and even though I haven't spent much time with it yet, I think that what I can learn from it should be enough to allow me to code some of the other functionality I want. My two cents: I like the template I downloaded better than the lok of this page. However, the verbiage in the prompt (on the first page) is great. Thanks a lot for the script, and indeed , for helping to simplify the achievment of 'Escape' which mysel f and so many others seem to find in writing our thoughts and feelings out on the web for (maybe) the whole world to see.

text: the people yell and peace is not here!!!!!!!!! speak, they say, but the system fights me! or do I fight the system? egads! nay, I must not fight, for to fight the system is to play the system in the manner in which it is intended. For to "play the game" you must in fact fight the system, for this is its inherent purpose! This is the evil of the system!

what is there besides? ESCAPE? what is this? what I am wriiting, this is? indeed the title is thus. Yet how must mindless chatter be escape? shall we mindlessly follow nothing just to escape the system? NO! We merely create another system, albeit one of laziness. We must create! Design! Think! Work! Uniqueness is key, not for the sake of uniqueness itself, but as evidence we are truly doing our own thing, for we are all unique and thus uniqueness in our works indicates pursuit of our true passions. But we must not pursue uniqueness for the sake of uniquess, yes this creates another system! pursue your own passion, your own calling, your own creativity, and uniqueness will follow!

And no I didn't time this. Sorry.

text: i just thought of something.

perhaps, when there are enough entries, this place can be published as a book.

you know how much we'd make selling it to the emo crowd?

text: test

text: I've never done this before, however tempted I may have been to try it. but I need to get this out, and since my ftp seems to have exploded, here is as good a place as any. in fact, it's almost better. this concerns two people aside from me; one whose heart seems to be mine but I don't want it, and another who my heart belongs to, but his feelings on the matter I'm not sure of. no doubt they could guess which is which, reading this.
but am I just being whiny and melodramatic? do I just want this because I can't have it, and wilfully turn down what's offered to me? I don't know. I feel not, but I can't trust myself to be sure...
I'll leave it at that.

text: dood. things have disappeared. And skizzers looks different. I kinda mentally fell over when I saw that. I do that, sometimes -- mentally fall over. Physically falling over would draw too much attention, you see . . . but the reaction is still there. I did that sometime this morning, I think, but I can't remember why. Hm.

And now I'm here, and I'm writing. Why? Because I have no work to do. I was good this morning -- there were runs of stuff to do. But not now. And LJ just isn't fun today.

I kinda want to write . . . but I can't think of anything to write. Anything I want to write. That I haven't gone over so many times it's getting annoying. I need something new. I need . . . i don't know. I'm just generally unhappy today, for some reason. Don't know why. Wonderful little depression I have.

I've been dreaming a lot lately, though not to the point where it's disturbing my sleep yet. And I don't remember a lot of them, until something clicks and I remember a piece, a fragment. Like yesterday, I remembered a dream in which someone gave me a boxed set of Pokemon movies. Yeah. Strange things like that. I like dreams, though. They're better than reality. Reality doesn't make sense. Neither do dreams, but they're not supposed to. Reality is. Isn't it? I think the problem is that I don't make sense to myself. Hard to understand the world when I can't understand myself. Some of the things I'm figuring out, though, aren't things I can tell people. Or maybe I can, but only certain people. It's so hard to know what to say to who. So I say nothing, usually. There are things I haven't ever told anyone. In some ways, it's nice to have secrets, nice to have pieces of myself that no one else knows.

text: I love her, thats all I can think of is her. How do I let her know, how do I tell her with out fucking up both our lives. my friends her family it will all be shot to hell if I tell her,. I want to tell her but the need for everything in my life to stay the same is high the need to make sure nothing bad happens to her is higher. I want to be with her but I don't htink it will happen She is everything that is good and beutiful in this world. to me she is perfect to me life with her seems right but it iwont be easy. Nothing easy is worth it , this is definatly worth it. I love her

text: dzfsdf

text: I sometimes think I'd like to be one of those stay at home people. Not in that I want to sit on my butt all day, every day, staring at the TV. No, I want to do things like garden and keep the house nice and write some, too. Of course, I can't do that if I suck at writing, or really if I'm single (unless I'm a fantastic writer, which I'm not, as far as I know). Maybe once I finish the novel I'm working on I'll know better if I could do that sort of thing. I think it'd be nice, to work from home, mostly on my own schedule. To have time to spend on the house, and not have anything else that conflicts with that. Of course, that's not likely. No, I'll get a "normal" job -- hopefully not quite a desk job. More likely, it will be a lab of some sort. Doing what, I don't know at this point. Everyone looks at me funny when I tell them I'm considering becoming a biology major. I should work on not letting those funny looks affect me. It's my liife, right? My choices. So even if I wanted to drop out of school and attempt to be a full time writer or something equally absurd, it's my choice and they don't get a say.

text: So five minutes of writing is the requested, hmm? What is there to write about other than myself. Having reached an impasse in my life I'm re-evaluating everything. Who I am, who I was, who I want to be. Who I am is not who I want to be, nor is who I was. Thus changes have to be made. Change is hard though, and most people are terrified of it. It's one of the things I'm not scared of.

I want to be perfect. I want to be all things to all people at all times. I'mm a wicked, jealous person who is highly possessive, and thus it drives me fairly nuts to find out that someone would possible go to another person for help. Is this normal? Do I care? Positive affirmation is something I crave. I am constantly searching for it. I rarely ever get it. This is not because of the merits of my work or the quality of my friendship.My friends enjoy hanging out with me, people I work with rarely ever go to anyone else. No one explicitly says, "Hey Mark, good job" or "I like hangin out with you dude". I wonder why this doesn't happen.

What can I change about my life that doesn't affect my core personality? Other than that I require fundamental change to line things up more with my personality. I have lots of things that look interesting to me, and I am doing practically none of them, save music. So this is my story as of right now. Escape.

text: it really sucks having to stay at school over christmas break when all i really want is to get out of hell and go home....now i'm not saying i don't like living in Salem, i absolutely adore it, but this year has just been too much and i need a break...i've been so close to breaking down or breaking up one for so long that i just need to escape so here i am once more venting and escaping reality. only problem is it's really hard to escape reality and since my Pixel won't work on the school's network i'm hardpressed to find a computer that will....and it sucks having to stay at school for break....esp when i'm staying in a dorm with only two others and a student in the vicinity that's threatened my life...but what's more i just need to go home to see my parents and my friends....and see if anything's possible with a certain friend...since my fiancee and i broke up at least....on the bright side at least i'm experiencing my first white christmas....too bad i'm stuck here and can't be with family or friends...and yeah i just need a damn break once in a while....that would be nice...you know i've been tempted to transfer out of this school and go home so i don't have to deal with people here anymore but then i think better of it and something else invariably happes....and i've been typing so long dealing with homework that i keep expecting to see those damned red and green lines to appear underneath my text....anyway i'm quite sure that five minutes is over now so here i leave it...longing to go home and denied the hope....

text: t67y7i8p;0

text: t67y7i8p;0

text: Humm, bump, buzz... the day babbles forth and rushes through its standard course... class, work, eat, sleep, love... every day so very like every other. Verily, a great a circuitous river is the name of "day," and every day is a new churning but an iteration of the last.

But what is sought is not so much a new or even a different day. Rather, a slightly varied day. After all, the one we have normally is quite excellent in its routineness and customariness, and we are hence quite good at anticipating the events therein. But we want more; a day more full, but not necessarily more busy; we want a day that is more alive. WE want to be more alive. But can we be any more alive than we already are? Perhaps what we need is a readjustment. But why the hell would we do that, so used to things are we. Besides, if we were to continually readjust ourselves so as to make each day fuller, would we not grow restless over such continual readjustment?

Just lost a round of Neggsweeper. Shit.

And that's just it. Why play Neggsweeper? Why do anything? Is it because we love life? We may, but not necessarily. Rather, it is more frequently because we are used to living and loving. Some might say that we are biologically predisposed to desire to live. Others have justified this habit by calling it holy and each day a god-ordained gift. And there may be some good to bring away from that idea, insofar as we do not HAVE to live through each day. We could end it any time; we are not so incapable so as to be unable to perform THAT. But we choose to live. And it is the why behind that question that constitutes each of our respective volitions, our respective reasons for being.

So, why do we live? Why are we? Can we assent to life, instead of merely tolerating it? or else deny it (for, ultimately, the real nihilist ought to lie down and die of starvation or thirst, since that is the least-energy and least-care possibility for the day)? I think so, but such an assent is difficult. Such was the central concept of "Thus Spoke Zarathustra": 'the heaviest weight' was the notion of assenting to everything as it has happened and embracing and demanding life, regardless of its thorns and barbs.

Good day or night all,
Jon

text: No matter what I write, someone I know is bound to read it. Such is the nature of the internet, after all--you don't put stuff online unless you want it to be seen. And yet the more personal the topic, the less I actually want people I know to know about it. Rather awkward sentence, that one. My mother forced me to keep a diary for a while, sometime during elementary school, and after I finished writing each entry she would come in and critique it, and maybe she thought she was improving my writing, but more than anything else that exercise taught me how to hide my thoughts from paper, to write hundreds of words and have none of them really mean anything. Maybe that's what happened to my application essays, and it's a bit dumb to still be hung up over those, yes?
And since starting my blog I've found I really can't write anywhere else, at least not about myself and whatever it is that I want to vent about. Probably residual aversion to a paper diary, where every word and mistake is permanent and handscrawled into illegibility sometimes. Having everything in digital text makes it so much more nice and impersonal and easier to deal with. Usually. I hope.
why is it that every time i try to write here it turns into metawriting?
So I figure if someone I know must read what I have to write it might as well be people farther away where they can't too spontaneously call or drop by and force me to talk about what I 've written. I don't want to deal, okay? I just need to say this somewhere.
It's not something I need now [or, I'm inclined to think, ever], and I can think of at least twenty people from whom the end I'd never hear if it does happen. And I have never trusted anyone [including myself] enough to expect it to work out well. Feelings be damned, as they've always been, but I don't really know how much other people might value their own, and I went through enough grade-school indoctrination to always be careful of those. Too careful, probably. Mine, I'd sell for cash.
I'm expecting definites tomorrow [today?] sometime in the afternoon.
Apprehensive, yes. Afraid, I don't think, but then I've always doubted that I'm capable of admitting fear at all.
It's been far over five minutes, and of course there are things I've been putting off, but it would have been impossible to do anything with this stuff still on my mind.
Thanks.

text: Hello, yes yes this ins 5 minutes of completley one huge bunch of ramble.. i dont know how i ended up at this site i think i took a wrong turn somwhere.. Alwell cooking chips and choco muffine.. sMsM MmmM muffins are goood... I fried them, i dunno if you can fry muffins but allwell there you go, it came into my head so i'm now frying mufins... schools shit, as allways, my skinny Psykics teacher seriousley needs to get a life the poor old one-tesitcalled freak. Somtimes i wish peple could roll up into balls and die. Like my Physics teacher... Hitler was one other who had one ball.. "hitler, hes only got one ball..." yer yer you know the song.

hmm.. food is really good... yes thats my 5 mins i thinks :\

text: Here I am again, every time I am depressed I end up here. What's wrong with me now? I guess I'm just lovesick. I've never been like this, I got out of a bad relationship a year ago. I found out love can be bad, very bad. I spent a year, just floating, no love, just life. Now I throw all that away in just one day. I can't get her out of my head. What do I do now, I'll never forget her, but she is gone, & the only way I'll ever see her again is to go to her. But will she have me?

It takes only a second to find a special person, a minute to appreciate them, a day to love them, but then an entire life to forget them.

Again I say, I am not afraid to die, I am afraid to live.

text: It's like the world got up and walked away. Where the hell did it go? Did I accidentally walk into purgatory? I suppose I should meditate.

text: my name is scott and im an alcoholic.............. just takin the piss i am fukin bored cant think of a thing to do never mind write the most exciting thing ive done in the past month or 2 is going to a newcastle match hey but that only lasted a couple of hours for the other 1 month, 30 days and 20 hours all ive done is watched the tv or went to my dads. the word that explains me the most is bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored and bored

text: what im thinking now: the girl i like, the girl i like, the girl i like, the girl i like, porn, the girl i like, the girl i like. the reason love is subbed for like is becasue love shouldn't be thrown around like a piece of shit. i.e. me

text: i like chips and playing the guitar basketball, bitches mother fucker dude ass book fuck ash, illegal games wares movies rejects social destuction may let it decided destiny whjy> dunno but one thing has come of this imperil mollition maybe if we all, i mean i, had the balls to ask her then maybe, just maybe i wouldn't be here sitting, tpyeing lookimng what to type next, well what the fuck im here and thats that. i will, someday, maybe sooner than i think meet someone worth thnking about but until then fuck it im on my own, i know what you;re thinking 'you're not alone, no' why dont you sty with e tonight? why? cos i dont fuckin want to be with you i want to be with her and have a fun time like i used to but fuck i can't aint got a good reason for her to like me, me a social reject, well we are all individuell apart from those asses that walk around hitting starting noth for something, you know them, i know them but if we team up against them then we would become what they are, sheep, fucking sheep. no ones on the road beach are fucking land were you really are, i just don't want to end up in a nine til five, just sitting there wondering when my time will come!! not to die, but to change what i can change like free will, to something to something i deserve, not to be born into a world where people are working as a machine to live in on big ass place where everything WORKS!! i don't fuckin want that shit, i want everyone to live the way they want, aparet from thse fuckin idiots that do the stuff the majority think is wrong, even if it makes them happy and not us let them go until they relise. i've taken this type to type what i was thinking of, and from now will pst something when i want to, not when im told do, and dont think that im typing this to please you, FUCK YOU AND EVERYONE Here apart from the people that undersand what i do.

text: Today is so beautiful, and yet I feel so empty, isolated and alone. It's a perfect day to dry to the coast with the top down and the wind rushing through my hair with nothing holding me back. I just don't have that special someone any more. The worst part about a dreams is when you awake to realize that is was just dream and nothing more. How sad is that...you will understand when it happens to you.

text: poop

text: I really like to write. i mean, REALLY like to write. If I wasn't so interested in Forensic Science, being an author would be my other occupation. Aside from that, I'm quite interested in using sprites, preferably Megaman sprites. Even though I have no clue at all how to use them, I am searching fiercely to find out. I wonder why I do things like that-I like things I can't understand. Hmmm...what else? I like games more than most people. By that I mean I like games more than most people do. And by that I mean I like games more than I like most people. Even though my 5 minutes are up, I still feel like writing. I have a crush on this girl who has dirty blonde hair, cute freckles on her nose, and a sense of humor. I don't know when I should make my move. I'm nervous...Well, I'm finished typing. It's weird that something as simple as writing can make you express your innermost feelings without you even knowing. Hey...thanks!

text: &&&&&

text: &&&&&

text: wow, ok, been a while since i did one of these . and, appropriatly, alot has changed. maybe alot hasn't.... we'll see. anyway, the girl i was head over heels for dumped me like a sack of shit, leaving me feeling... well, like a sack of shit. it started going downhill from there. got kicked out of school, getting kicked out of my home, and the general kicking abuse. doesn't help much that the people i socialize with have trouble understanding anything that doesn't directly affect them, so yeah.... this should really be going in my blog, but i figure someone is studying people like me, so this should help. i'm a lab rat!

text: Doin' this at work, so maybe five minutes won't happen -- you never know. Then again, I have most of the week to do ... one more powerpoint presentation. That is, to create it. Ooo, I don't think I'll finish it. Right. I figure I'll work on my website a bit . . . but I can't help feeling guilty when I do that. I mean, that's blatantly not doing work. When I was working on the design, I could say that I was learning Dreamweaver, but now that it's just contenty bits, I don't really feel like I can do that. That's alright though. I'll probably get bored enough to really not care. I need to get the design up, anyway . . . .

Dad was all like, you need to make a circle of friends down there in houston. Well, yeah, duh, but how the hell do I do that? That's so much easier said than done. Somehow, that sort of thing is just so much more irritating when it comes from him than from anyone else. Like maybe he doesn't have the right to say things like that. It's like . . . . parenting. And dad didn't really give that sort of lecture or anything as I was growing up, at least not that I remember. Is it bad of me to feel that way? I really feel like it must be. You shouldn't dislike your father. You should love and respect him. I just don't know why.

text: I wonder how much I'm missing... Fuck that; I wonder how close I am to not missing out. If only I could turn back the clock to an opportunity lost. Idiot! I have to be stronger, and better. Rawr.

text: I can't remember the last time I felt like this. The last time I had these thoughts. It seems like it's never been this bad, but I'm sure it has. It's probably been worse. I just can't think of when. I don't know what's wrong with me. I haven't been on time to any class but diffeqs in so long . . . even japanese, I'm late for. And now I'm paying for it, paying in blood for my own stupidity, and yet I can't seem to make it better. How can I make it better? How can I figure out what the hell is going on, how can I make it so that I understand, how can I make it right? Adrift feels like the right word. Adrift, on a sinking lifeboat, with land in sight but out of reach and getting farther away. I feel weird, saying all this, but . . . I've never had these thoughts so strong before. I've never wanted so much for it to be over, to take the easy way out. I know I'll get through this -- I have enough will for that. But I don't know how to fix it. Life just sucks so bad and it's all my fault. There's no one else I can blame.
There's a hole in my heart where my soul used to be. It dropped out sometime when I wasn't looking. It burned away with the final flight of a glorious bird, leaving an aching emptyness and a fear for us all. I weep for the lives that were lost. I weep for their families and friends. I weep for NASA, having lost so much. I weep for the nation, and what might befall us. I weep for those who cannot see the tragedy, and I weep for those who can. I feel the emptiness in me, and I weep because I cannot see it reflected in those around me. I wish I was in Houston, to mourn with those who care. To give what comfort one more voice can bring. But I cannot be there. I am here, and I weep in silence, unheard.

text: I miss my sister. I miss my life. I can't ever seem to wake up - just going through the motions all the time. I need to be out, I need to be learning, I need to be making myself MORE. I'm not anything at the moment. I live through other people. I don't have my own energy - I thrive off other people's energy. It becomes a drain on them after a while. I sleep, I work, I drive, I sleep. I have no conversation - my brain is a pool of stagnant water. I run away from the mundane life I lead by sleeping, but it's getting to the point where I can't even wake up. I want to be more - I surround myself with people who seem larger than life to me, and I feel very small, and I want to be MORE. No one is attracted to nothingness - I need to focus some of my energy on myself, on things I want to do and learn. It's hard, though, when life seems so pointless - why pick a direction, why make plans? Nothing ever works out the way it's supposed to, so why not just go day by day? I don't think that's a particularly bad perspective on life, so long as the days are somewhat productive, and not simply repetetive. I need to learn. I need to make myself more, so that I am my own reason to live. And I need to stop feeling so lonely - my someone will come along, or they won't. No need for me to sit around waiting for them - I should go out and find myself, and see who else is looking for me. Just one more month, and I'll be on my way....

text:

text: Today feels like summer! Yeah! Ahh. Firstly, you absolutely must see engrish.com-- Browse and be much happy. It is your pleasure to be seen the funny. "I wonder why coffee tastes so good when you're naked with your family." And you *have* to listen to 'Frontier Psychiatrist' by The Avalanches, as well as 'Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots' by The Flaming Lips. The former is loopy, and... so is the latter. :D
Oh!! And possibly the best rendition of Romeo and Juliet is a flash movie under the name of 'leetrom.swf'. I got it on an unlikely site, specwhore.com. It's 1337 (w00t).

text: This is a sad, sad way to get original storys, but I must say, its new by me. I could tell a story about a dog, a pig, and an elephant, but we don't want to hear boring stuff like that, do we? No, I should say not. Perhaps we should looks through my IM logs? Sos yous don't wants to? Sounds like Gollum, creepy thing that he is. He wants it! The Presciousssss.... the prescioussss... and... I forgot my line! shoot... oh, well.. What now? How did I do? Is that... hey, did you turn the camera on? YOU IDIOT WORTHY OF PAIN, YOU HAVE CAPTURED MY VERY DEEPEST THOUGHTS, and(opps)...AND SEALED IT ON PAPER!!!! THAT IS... cool, I guess. *shrugs* Better than the tapes of myself I used to record talking... hmmm, did you hear those? I suppose you did, although I don't remember showing them to you. You probably had Sara show you, didn't you!? Tell me! oh, well... I made a gnu word today. wUt. wUt(wu-UH-tt). means "what", if you didn't catch that. Another one I made was vyking. Sounds, looks(almost), and means(even that!) the same thing as Viking. Anyhoo, I think I have blown my fiyv minutes of your time. and don't ferget to drink yer milk! m00!

text: hehehe, I dunno what write about, I lke X-Plane, my Bike, which is full suspension, I lke learning, but lately that has showned to be a little bit harder than usual and....
well.... haven't the 5 min past yet?
goto www.x-plane.com,it worth you buy it,
well
k, sorry about wasting the space writing about almost nothing.... seeya!

text: It's raining and physics is pointless, so I decided to stay in the student center for an hour. I should be doing something useful, but I don't know how much I really want to. I have plenty to do, though. And since I'm doing stuff this weekend, I really need to get everything done even up to for next week. Monday, at least. I should try to have my dynamics homework done before eight next tuesday -- otherwise I'm screwed, since i'd like to be able to watch JAG and smallville, then watch buffy (having taped it at eight since I'll probably get to watch JAG with tracie). New shows are good. Keyboards that are extremely hard aren't good. Argh. I shouldn't have to slam my fingers down to get the keys to press. The backspace is especially hard to hit. Grr. St00pid computer lab. I'd be printing stuff out -- like my webassign, or maybe specific pages out of the Legynds players guide -- but there are way too many people up there waiting for stuff to print. I have another two hours later today, after diffeqs, so I'll probably just do it then. It wasn't too crowded in here on monday at that time. In the mean time, I'm rambling here. If this is supposed to be an escape, why am I writing about school stuffs? Shouldn't I be doing something different? The thing is, I'm happy right now. I like my life. I'm not bored, I actually have lots to do, and it's not all school. Sure, I do have plenty of homework stuffs, but I also have my website to redesign, not to mention Legynds. LARPing should be lots of fun. Social, too. With people I don't know yet. ^_^ Well, and Erin and her cousins, whom I've met. But anyway, it's good. And I talk to people in my classes, so I don't feel alone. I don't feel alone.

text: Here I am, it's 6 months lat er. Now what am I, who am I.? Did I lose myself.? I don't remember. IF I did, would I still want to?
Now that I have left a brainwash, what do I turn to? Why do I feel like I need something? I am Lost. I look at what someone calls the great Lie, Man's self-created reason to live. Society. It never botherd me before. Now it bothers me, pisses me off, & generally makes me feel hopeless. Scratch that,what I hope is not the truth makes me hopeless. I hope & pray(is that worthless too?) the there is a reason to live. I am not afraid to die...I am afraid to live.

E
X

text: GO EAGLES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

text:

hi is html allowed

text: get in the oven jew
pick that cotton nigger
get in that mountain chink
give me drugs mexican
whoa i almost got mugged

text: hi hi hi hi hi h i hi hi hi

im gay

text: I could scream. Inside, I am already. It courses through my mind and body, and all I can think about is rattling off a string of curses. I feel like a spring cinched to the point of snapping, brimming with power, an image of sudden violence. At least I feel decidedly alive, or maybe that's the worst part. Fuck, I hate being frusterated. Note the understatement.

text: I am so very very tired right now. I slept for almost 12 hours last night, starting at 7:30 PM and sleeping almost straight through 'til about 6:50 AM. I didn't want to get out of bed, I just wanted to keep laying there, sleeping . . . Working is so different from school. I never really understood that when I was in high school. When I was sick then, I stayed home. I never understood why my parents went to work when they were sick. I understand now. It actually matters that you're at work. You can always make up lessons in school, but you have responsibilities at work that require your presence. You can't just skip. You know something? That really sucks. I wanted so much to skip today, and if I'd been at school . . . well, it depends on what classes I had, but I probably would have stayed in bed. I'm so tired . . . Can't I just put my head down on my desk and sleep for a few minutes? Just for a few minutes . . .

text: I've actually been rather busy at work this week. A nice change. I like being busy. It's better than being bored. Maybe that's why I take 18 hours at school. I really am considering trying to find a way to drop dynamics, because I think Mom may be right, and it may hurt me. low speed, dynamics, differential equations, /and/ physics II? along with 4 hours of japanese and being a COE ta? I think that's a bit much even for my sadistic tendencies. Maybe I'll play with long-term scheduling a bit more when I get back to my apartment tonight. I should call Dad again, too. I wonder if he even checks his answering machine. Another thing I need to do tonight is put lotion on my hands. My right one, especially, is incredibly dry. That happens to me during the winter, but I've always figured it was because the air was so dry. The air isn't dry here, though it is coldish. And my hands were getting dry even when it was warm and rainy . . . Maybe it's a delayed reaction to the poor air quality? Who knows. I need to find last week's paycheck . . . this week's, too, preferably. I had no choice but to take more money out of my savings to keep my checking account above $100. I had put more money into my savings than I needed to, but taking it back out costs money . . . not much, just a couple bucks, but I really should learn to manage it so that I don't need to pull money out. It's supposed to be growing, not fluctuating. I actually signed online last night . . . I was getting into that grumpy, depressed mood I get into when I've been disconnected from friends too long. That is, when I'm lonely. It's not really a conscious thing, at least at first; it's much like stress in that way. I guess it actually is stress, when you think about it. Just a different kind than work or school related.

text: An escalator can never be out of order. The signs shouldn't say 'Temporarily Out of Order' it should say 'Temporarily stairs. Sorry for the convince.'

This shirt is dry clean only...that means its dirty.

My sister says I'm crazy, but she's the one that's crazy! She has a family photo on her mantel and they're all looking slightly to the left...It's like there is something happening to the left and it made them all really happy. Except my sister is cross-eyed so she can't quite pull it off. One eye is dead on.

I was standing in front of a fire exit at a place once and some guy said, "Sir you have to move, you're blocking the fire exit." If you are flamable and have legs you are never blocking a fire exit!

I wrote a script once and my boss said, "Wow that's really good Mitch. Now you just need to re-write it." and I said, "Fuck that, I'll just make a copy."

I like Ritz crackers. I was reading the box one day and it suggested things to put on top of a Ritz. It said, "Try it with ham and cheese. Try it with peanut butter." C'mon man! I like crackers! They never suggested "Put a Ritz on top of a Ritz" I just want some crackers! I didn't buy 'em cause they were little eatable plates....

I went to a club once, and it was pretty cool, they had black lights and I was wearing a black shirt. Most people really like those cause they make every look really cool, but I was under the impression that the mustard stain had come out...

text: okay here i am at work again pulling this god awful 8 hour shift....yeah but i needed the hours this week and i'm covering for two people actually...but it means i have to be away from my bed and my fiancee both and i wish i could see him and then go to bed...but all's well that ends well....when i get off of work tonight i get to go back to my room where my little white kitten is waiting for me....she's adorable and her name...well even though she's white it's not a normal name like snowball or tama or anything of the sort...it's Briar Rose...and she's adorable...and probably asleep too... she's listening to Linkin Park...and yeah i should be working on the newspaper...but i've spent too many hours on that this week...i guess that's what being the editor gets me....but oh well...i could also be doing homework, but yeah i'll get to that...maybe after this...see working here isn't as bad as last year 'cause at least here i get to watch anime....so *YAY*...and the newspaper office got a nice new computer...so i'm happy about that...i get to work with windows instead of a MAC....that was yeah not *YAY*....so i'm happy about that and the first issue is going out next week....and it's late and i'm rambling...but i've only written for about 2-3 min now...and yeah need five....ewww this is kinda gross what i'm watching on tv....but i'm kinda like not watching it 'cause i'm typing and stuff and i don't think it's right of a school to make a student erase something that they feel but offends others...esp if it's in a journal....and yeah this country is headed for hell in a handbasket...i mean come one...look at who's in office...he's just following his daddy's agenda...and yeah this is sedtion....but I DON'T CARE!....let them put the sedtion acts back in place...i'll be the first to go to jail and see if i care...this is a cool movie thought and i think my five minutes are up....no not yet....but they will be soon...and yeah i think i'm just gonna get back to my japanese/spanish chat room....which is fun...so i'm out....

text: I just read over the rambling bio I currently have up. I like reading stuff like that, stuff I've written that doesn't try to use fancy language or symbolism or imagery or anything that doesn't come naturally. I guess I can't do that all the time -- I have to be in a certain state of mind, where my fingers find the keys and just start typing. I love the feeling of it, when I'm writing and the words just flow from me to the page/screen. It doesn't work so well when my fingers are cold, though, since they tend to miss keys. I need to work on Silverhawk. I can't force it, I know, but I need to try to work on it, at least. I need to do a little research for it, too. I don't really have a free weekend for the next couple, but there's always the evenings. It's just so hard to get motivated to do something like that when you're dead tired, like I always am after work. I actually took a nap yesterday. Or was it the day before? Whichever day it was that mom called. Right, wednesday, because Enterprise was coming on. Wednesdays are kinda nice. I only have one TV show to watch, it's a good show, and I can kinda relax. Too much television is bad. I didn't watch CSI last night, since it was a repeat. I'm thinking of watching Firefly tonight, but that's probably not a good idea. I don't need to be hooked, as much as I feel sci-fi needs to be supported. Oh well. I wonder how the crusade to save farscape is going . . .

text: Mm. Planning schedules is fun. I'm going to be a TA for the COE programming course (taught in matlab and java), since my advisor is one of the profs. That'll be fun. It kinda screws with my planned schedule, though, so I'm having fun playing with it. My advisor also recommended that I take Dynamics instead of a fluffier class, since that lets me continue on with my AE courses instead of getting stuck with a missing pre-req next fall. The idea of a heavy load is growing on me, as it always does -- I am such a masochist, I swear. I revel in seeing exactly how much stress and work I can take before I crack. Yay. I'll be upset if I can't take Japanese, though, because I intend that to be my saviour from stress. Heh. A four credit hour class, saving me from stress. Kinda seems oxymoronic, doesn't it? Here's what I plan to take:

Differential Equations (Math 2403) - 4 hours
Intro to Physics II (Phys 2212) - 4 hours
Intro to Japanese (Japn 1001) - 4 hours
Low-speed aerodynamics (AE 2020) - 3 hours
Intro to Dynamics (AE 2220) - 3 hours

In addition, I'll be a TA, so I'll be attending that three hours a week. yay. I wish I could post a picture of my intended schedule up here. It's kinda shiny. It does depend on which COE I'm TAing, though. Section C interferes with Japanese, but B interferes with low-speed, which then moves up to 9:30, which screws up difeqs and makes things messy.

Yay for "safety and total health day." No work is allowed 'til 3:30. It's currently 1:30. w00t.

text: A taste of heaven is torture to one who is damned.

text: Urrrrrrr. I couldn't figure out why I was (am) so tired this morning, since I managed to get to bed before 10:30. At some point, I finally remembered that I took a benadryl around 10PM, because my chest was hurting. I think I remembered that because my chest started hurting again. I usually try not to take benadryl if I need to be functional less than 8 hours later. I need to up that limit to 10 hours, 'cause this thing keeps me dead for at least that long. Hell, I took it twelve hours ago and it's just now starting to let go. I can think a little bit now, which is handy. I still won't be useful for very much 'til after lunch, I bet. I wonder if benadryl also makes me hungry? I was still hungry after my ceral this morning, which was kinda strange. I'm going back to the apartment for lunch today, 'cause I didn't feel like dealing with meat and dry bread. Aunt Rhonda was right -- if ya toast the bread with seeds in it, you don't taste the seeds. W00t. I did burn the toast just a bit, though. I ate it anyway, because I was hungry.

I wonder what would happen if I tried to write something like my book or an essay in this condition. It either wouldn't happen, or it would make no sense but I'd like it anyway because it'd be ... interesting. Hm.

text: Wow, but I'm pathetic.

I guess I listen to an odd collection of music. For a couple years, I seriously didn't listen to anything but jpop. I still listen to that more than anything else, but at the moment I don't have any way to get new songs, and I'm getting a little tired of the ones I have. I listen to the radio more often now, though I get irritated with the talking and commercials and bad music. I get tired of listening to the same 5 songs everytime I turn the radio on. But I do like some Creed songs, and I think I like Default, too. I woke up to 'Disarm' the other morning. My favorite song by the Smashing Pumpkins. That was a good morning. Right now, sitting at my computer at work, waiting for a CD to finish burning so I can put another one in, waiting for data to finish downloading so I can convert it and organize it so I can later burn it onto a CD, I am listening to Ani DiFranco. Revelling was this morning; now it's Reckoning. I love these CDs, I really do. They're perfect for work. I've always liked Revelling better, but I don't know if I ever paid attention to the entirety of both CDs before. Revelling is certainly more upbeat -- hence the name, I think -- but they're both very, very good. I have Dilate with me, too, so if I get bored with R&R I can switch. I want to see Ani in concert again. The only concert I've been to was one of hers, two years ago, I think. Went with caifly-cat, with Kat and ... Gian, I think, sitting elsewhere. Goodtimes, that was. I have two t-shirts -- I want more.

I also want an evil minion shirt. ^_^ Yay for new megatokyo shirts. Yay for tohya-san. Yay for caifly-cat standing in line and getting me a sketch of miho! ^_^ *happygryphlet*

Life is good, right now. My perception of it changes from moment to moment, but at this moment, I am content. Content is maybe not a good thing -- leads to complacency, which leads to stagnation, which leads to bitterness and restlessness and loneliness and boredom. But I don't care about that at this moment.

text: I guess this is for anyone, and this morning, I really need to just talk a bit and relax. I have to go down for a blood test. Just the regular general to make sure everything is in order. But see, I have a PHOBIA of needles. I give myself credit though for being able to handle myself calmly. I suppose now you might say it's just a really horrible fear. I know that no one likes needles and I'm not the only one who dreads stuff of thise nature. But I'm still frightened out of my wits and would sooner dig myself a hiding place under the floorboards than walk in there and let them poke around on me. It has to be done though, and I want it done to be sure I'm okay. You could say I haven't been keeping up with this stuff like I should have been. Okay, that's me five.

text: Sometimes I glimpse reality's untold secrets, flitting on the edge of consiousness. Each piece is overpowering, the building blocks of what would seem to an onlooker as impossible fantasy, the very essense of being manifested in an idea, a feeling, a living memory... A dream like a vaguely familiar scent. Crushing emotion, the source as obvious as a crystal is clear, yet clouded by not-quite-truths grown by life under the shroud of expectations.

I write my thoughts on water, the currents I barely sustain, each moment threatening to shift them into meaningless ripples of the past. I bear the curiosity like a cat transfixed by the darkness in a paper bag, not allowed to venture inside. How many other times have I failed to remember a moment? Had life and death not been hiding here, the terrible enigma with which my mind tortures me, I'd have lost it already. I am screaming inside, trying to rationalize. I will pass for sane, though, because I know what others expect. Everyone does.

text: So much to complain about. I'm sick as fuck, my head hurts, i'm hungry, my ribs are killing me, i'm o so tired.... but i realized today that it doesn't really matter, because I found the one that makes it all worth it. And I'm not complaining.

text: I think I know who the kung-fu jedi master is . . .

Whee. I just got done with a presentation on the stuff I've been doing for the past month. I feel like I've been beaten, pounded into the dirt, ground into a pulp and left to rot. "Why did you do this? Why do we care? Why didn't you do this? Is that even relevant?" And on and on and on. That was the NASA guy, our big boss, btw. He managed to jump ahead, sometimes by a moment, sometimes by many slides, pointing out things that /I/ was going to point out later. Argh! And making me feel like a total nitwit, dumb, understanding nothing. And then at the end, he tells me I did a good job. Apparently, that's just how he is -- tough, demanding, but maybe he's more impressed than he lets on. That's what Elenor said, anyway, and I believe her. Several other people said that I did a good job, too, so it's okay. I'm still recovering, though. That was a hard 45 minutes.

text: Sometimes, I just feel like killing time. This is one of those times. Bah.

I've found that the strangest things make me randomly and absurdly happy. Like the fact that the plural form of thesaurus is 'thesauri'. This fact brings a smile to my face - I wonder what that's all about. Conversly, some of the strangest things bother me, too. Like the phrase 'have spent'. It just doesn't sound right, and I find that to be very unsettling. And don't even get me started on things such as 'continue on' or 'past history'. I can't even believe these are accepted phrases. Well, actually, yes I CAN believe that, when I think about most people's grasp on the English language. Foreigners speak our language better than we do. Very sad indeed.

This was a completely pointless waste of time. I feel better. =)

text: so I finally get around to sending a draft of the presentation I'm giving next week to my project manager. He comes over, looking a little confused, wondering why I did this one thing. He said we'd talk about it tomorrow, but I went back to try to figure out why he was so puzzled. I thought I'd figured it out -- I was using the wrong random number generator. Makes me feel a little dumb, but I feel okay about having figured it out. So I run all the relevant propagations again, update the powerpoint, and send it to him again with a little note as to what I did. So he comes back over and says, "no, you'd been using the right one . . . Let me see your code." So I do. He changes a few things, things that I would swear to goodness are simply stylistic things -- I mean, he took out my type declaration simply because it's implied that anything starting with letters i through n are integers. In my book, redundancy keeps you from getting confused, but whatever. anyway, he changed a couple other tiny little things, things that I'd say shouldn't have changed anything, and lo and behold, it worked right. So he's kind of pitying me, especially since I demonstrated that I'd wasted time and sanity typing things over and over when of course there's a shortcut. And now I'm sitting here, feeling like an idiot, angry because it shouldn't have worked, mad also because I'm starting to think maybe it should, but irritated because it means that the whole implicit typing thing isn't really implicit unless you say so or it's an integer, which is just so stupid. And I'm feeling useless, because now I just get to sit here while my HP slogs through 3*200*2000 one-year propagations. That's at least 30 minutes.

text: ...and it is.

isolation sucks.

text: *smacks forehead*
ugh. it'd be good if things were ideal. and it'd be bad if things were frusterating... oh wait, they are.

text: it's been a year, and we still haven't really learned....can we ever? or better question: WILL we ever? and why is it so hard for us to learn....we're not children anymore, and yet we still act like them....we're still the same self-centered "what's good for me?" thinking peoples...is that what it means to be american? if so i don't want it...life has a funny way of throwing brick walls in our path just to make us stumble...well we're supposed to learn from those brick walls and yet somehow as a nation we don't...we're still just as bad as we were last year...so where's the wisdom and insight we were to gain from that experience? are we still too short? or were we just not looking? or is it that as a nation we just don't care....so yeah...we're still children...and i doubt that's ever going to change....let's have as much fun as we can while we can 'cause from the moment we're born we're dying...we only live to die...so have fun at everyone else's cost...the threefold law and the golden rule obviously aren't paid any attention anymore so yeah just whatever....have fun...and just don't care...we'll all die anyway....who cares when or how...

text: least helpful error message ever: "bus error (core dumped)"

Argh. I sometimes forget how frustrating programming can be. Forget for a moment that I'm dealing with math that is waaay over my head; the programming itself is going to kill me eventually. Argh argh. Fortran is so old . . . pain. Lots of pain.

text: It's already 2:30 in the afternoon. What have I done with my day? Absolutely nothing. Not the nothing I've been doing the rest of the weekend, but rather just wasting time. I laid in bed for a while after my mom called, then ate lunch, then took a shower, and now it's 2:30. What a waste of a day. I hate it when I do that. I guess it's okay 'cause it's a holliday, but then again, that doesn't really feel like it matters. I need to call my grandparents, but I don't feel like doing that yet.

I updated my site last night. I was out of sorts all day yesterday, so I cleaned my bathroom and rambled about myself and my life. Who was it who asked me about my life, a couple years ago? Someone said they wondered about my background, or something. About why I do what I do, about my history. My little project was supposed to do that, but that got lost along the way. Sad how many of my plans get lost. I guess that's just life, but it's still sad.

So now I'm sitting here, drinking tea that is both bitter and sweet and maybe not warm enough, and wondering what I should do for the rest of the day. I need to go to the grocery store, but I don't really feel like it. I want to play ddr, but i know the mall will be crowded, since it's a holliday. Maybe I'll go after work some time this week. Better to go on a work day, I think; fewer people there.

I have conflicting desires. I want to . . . stuff and things. I want to be surrounded by friends. I miss my friends. Even if it's online -- but I'm terrible at making friends online. I'm not real great at making friends offline, either, which is sad. It just kinda happens . . . I guess I just don't make enough effort. I think the problem is that I don't talk enough. I guess I just don't have anything to say.

text: Paranoia is dumb. =)

text: Paranoia runs deep sometimes. I know I shouldn't care...but maybe I should? Just because she's not answering her phone, and didn't call last night like she said, doesn't mean she's gone out and done what she swore she wouldn't do...does it? It doesn't matter anyway, he's not interested in me. They're a much better match than he and I ever would have made - she's on his level mentally, and she provides a challenge for him in many ways. I would only bring him down, ya know? It wasn't meant to be - maybe in a parallel universe, but I blew my chance in this one. So why is it bothering me so much that she didn't return my calls last night? The not knowing is the worst part - I'm one of those 'worst-case-scenario' worriers when it comes to things like this. My mind makes up the most ridiculous things sometimes...although, logically, anything is possible. Maybe it's not the 'not-knowing' part that's the worst - maybe it's just the possibilities that make me crazy. Or maybe I'm just crazy. In any case, so what if something did/does happen between them? Who am I to stand in the way? Just because I'm hung up on someone who has no romantic interest in me doesn't mean that he shouldn't be happy with one of my friends - and it shouldn't be a reason for my friend to avoid such a situation if it arose. When it comes to logic vs. emotion, logic should win. It would be best if logic and emotion went hand in hand, but that RARELY occurs. I just don't know. And now, here I am, sitting around the house, too lethargic to really find something to do...and I'm telling myself that I'm not just waiting to hear from her, I'm not just waiting to hear from her...but I think that in reality, I am. And that, my friends, is a sad, sad thing.

Maybe I'll go for a walk....

text: i'm not sure what you want me to write about, maybe this will suffice. would you like me to speak of my ills, or my tragedies? that would certainly take more than five minutes. so let's talk about my joys, you say? that takes over five minutes too, approximately 7 minutes. so let's just babble, and babble I shall. I think that there may be a trick to this, and the reason I'm

text: I have to write about something for 5 minutes, seems easy don't it, now that i'm sitting it's all of a sudden blank, there is nothing to write about, well, that may be so, but can you imagine if you could write something here, what would you write, what would you say? Thought of something, so why the hell aren't you writing something here?

Incase none of you know me (which would be unusual) I am The Amence One, in a lot of forums, i'm well known by a lot of people. I could also be going by the name Milba Micly, which is also my Jedi name (yes, I was sad enough to work it out, don't preach, you know you want to know yours), I use Milba Micly when playing Jedi Outcast online, or in the jedi-outcast.com forum. I could also be known as barrymiller34 or now as barrymiller420.

Like my rant... why not?

text: nee hier ist keiner Jenselmann

text: I have this feeling like I should be working on my story/book, but I don't knkow how much I'm in the mood for it right now. I'd started writing the first chapter, but that was on the computer that is currently residing in Tracie's basement in Atlanta. Not exactly somewhere I can retrieve it from, ya know? So what do I do -- restart it? No, because I rather liked what I had. It had a nice feel to it. So I don't start over, and I don't know where I left of, quite. I could just start writing another part -- maybe even start with the next major scene, which will probably be the next scene in the book, anyway. Yesterday, I kinda tried to start writing another part of it -- somewhere a little further along in the book. Really, the place the story idea started from. I keep going back and writing that. Or attempting to. It's getting harder and harder, for some reason. Maybe I just have difficulties having people wake up. I could just skip the waking up part -- since I have such problems with it, maybe I could just not write that part. Have it start with her already sitting up in bed, or staring out the window. Though looking out the window is going to be significant in this scene, so I guess that wouldn't work. Hrm. But maybe I'll just start on that /other/ scene, the earlier one. The one that really starts it all. See, the first scene that I had been writing was basically introducing the characters, but not the story. I wonder if I could introduce both at once. It'd be easier to grab the readers' attention that way, I think. I'll have to give that a shot. The question is, do I feel like writing now, or would I rather go and get my drug screening done? Maybe I should do that, so when I come back I can write. Either that, or I'll come back and play Return to Krondor for a while. Fun game, that. I think I like the first one better, but I've seen it played so much -- and played it myself, too -- that I can't really go back to the beginning on it right now. I've only played part of RtK, and that only once, I think.

Whose idea was this? I'd guess caifly's, since she's the one who has control over it and stuff. But when did escape get thought up, put up? I can't remember. I really like that we can read over the old ones, too -- it's very interesting. Kind of a public forum, only no one is talking to each other. Bravo, caifly-cat. This was a great idea.

text:

text: "i'll bring home the turkey if you bring home the bacon...."

thats right rivers. in any event, i need this escape pretty badly today. 5 minutes of spewing whatever comes out of my brain sounds pretty nice about now.

my best friend and i are moving on september first. out of this little hell hole tourist town that i call home. seems like i just moved back here from canada, but that was december, which is basically a world away right now. it feels good to be moving agian, to somewhere where theres things to do, people around all year round, jobs, and easy access to my favorite place in the world : the city of Philadelphia. Born and raised there, then exported to Jersey. Preposterous! Also, the love interest also resides close to where I'm moving, so that's a definite plus. No more ridiculous bus rides and train fiascos for us. no no no, a simple hop in the car and im there.

but the interest and i, we've been talking about running away together. not like in that romeo and juliet sense, but still moving away from all the bullshit and starting over. but i'm partially doing that now, so i dont know what to expect. hes been joking about las vegas, and all plutonium in the water aside (http://www.indymedia.org), its a good fantasy. dont know if wed make it a reality, but maybe one day a visit is in order.

im glad to be leaving all the drama of this small town and my insane family and friends behind, going out on my own with my best friend. if we part ways and get our own places, so be it, but right now, it feels damn good to be alive. especially since that sexy boy belongs to me.

viva las vegas baby, yeah.

text: if only it were as easy as clicking that mouse to step away from all of this drama for a few precious moments...
i always knew my life was far from normal, but being swept off of my feet came as a complete surprise to me. its also a huge surprise that i'm so willing to give freely, to share my thoughts and feelings. i dont even share them with myself most of the time,. i just keep it all locked away until i break out the pen and paper or the keyboard and let it flow.
kind of how im doing it now, only its not on some strange site ive never been to before.
kind of like leaving a piece of myself behind for someone else to find one day. maybe to inspire???

it's not as though creation is an anomaly; its the reason we are here. its also the reason i breathe. my goal is to create as much as i possibly can, be it through art, music, writing, emotion, sex, whatever.... as long as i can add something to this shithole world before i die, ill be happy. ill also die happy if i can rely on big corportaions less and less the more i evolve into this skin. support your local buisnesses, and you're supporting yourself, your community. and thats something we're all lacking today : community.

but, fuck the traditional. make your own versions of what is universally recognized and accepted, youll be a better person for it

text: heh. it's an outdated tag-name, relic of back when i still believed in grand gestures and some bit of symbolism. cuts like a knife, i thought, once.
trust yourself, they said. trust your feelings. first impulses are generally right. your subconscious knows more than you do.
the problem is that i'm incapable of doing that. i'm wired to analyze everything before responding. give me the system and i'll navigate it for you, but it has to be the whole, all of it, not whatever bits and pieces happen to drop off the table. it's all right, your intuition will take care of it, they said, but my intuition is so messed up with old shreds of daydreams it can't take care of itself. and it still spills over every once in a crucial while and that's when i believe i can learn all of vector calculus in a week, from scratch. the human mind is a dangerous thing.

text: so one of my friends sends me a link to Andy's computer story and I start looking at skizzers. it's amazing to me how much time people have on their hands. too much time spent staring at a computer screen. been in the biz for eons and remember the days when I used to go to bed with a PC troubleshooting book and spend my vacations attending conferences

now my head feels like it will explode everytime i see another unnecessary electronic gadget - come on how many people are there out there that REALLY need to be plugged in at all times? the technology is great for critical situations and provide me with a nice salary but step back once in a while

go CAMPING....wish i was back there on the lake, the sun and the water - no monitor, no keyboard, no constant jaw clenching and neck pain (well except from getting tossed about by the wave runner!!!)

don't get me wrong, i really like my job but I've learned to separate it from my life
well i don't know where that crap came from - tangents
do people really read through all of these things?

and the 64,000 dollar question - how many of you are getting paid for it, like me?

text: oh my god. this is so fucking annoying! don't know what to think about, what to do. guess i'm gonna sit here beside this crappy laptop. god i hate laptops. got no clue. hmm... surely i could go to beach. but then my stuff would be here. hmm...
guess i'll wait. waiting is interesting. it's a culture. it worked in russia once. doesn't work. here. maybe in the middle europe. dunno 'bout us. usa would be interesting place. the country is pretty cool. i mean, i saw some pictures my father had taken when he was young and was in california. i reckon he's in frisco, dunno. it was great, though.
that girl is a real pain in the ass. was joan baez the one who singed "love is a true pain in the ass". i agree. cheers joan.
really don't listen to that kinda music. father mostly. roger whittaker, in the serie easy-listening-crap. grrreat.
this fucking house music is pretty loud. and guess what. i'm a BIT swetty. it's +30C here. inside this crappy flat...
i thi nk it's much nicer to be in cold that hot. here's more cold than hot. especially in winter. it's phocking hilarious to watch the tourists fall on the streets of helsinki. hehe. =)
oh, the swedish girl. she stopped singing. swedish girls are pretty. i guess this is it. life, i reckon it's waiting. there isn't life if you ain't got anything to wait or look forward to. well, soon i see. got a week or something like that.

text: again again . . .

Maybe I'll try to keep it to five minutes this time. I usually don't look at the clock, don't pay attention. Sometimes -- the short ones -- these have been only a minute or so. That's because I do this while I'm waiting in the SEB for class. Or a group member, in this case.

*puts on her headphones*

So much is happening now. It's really crazy. Sorry