I've been thinking a lot about buying a PS3.
I have a PS2 and a Gamecube, but I feel it's time to invest in something better.
I talked about this to my sister, but she thinks it's all a big waste of time and money.
I've decided to only invest in it if I know I'll use it for useful things.
But in the end, like most things people do, it's all just a waste of life.
Video games, computer games, cell phone games, watching non-educational TV, watching movies, practically everything we do is just a waste of time. But of course we still do these things, because if we only spent our time wisely, we'd be really really weird.
So we all have our vices. Some of us play Halo, some of us download 100 different games to our phones, and others, like myself, are addicted to Facebook. Very very addicted to Facebook. I check my Facebook maybe 10-20 times a day, depending on what I'm doing that day. I post things all the time. I spend over an hour on facebook in the course of a day. It's ridiculous. Within the last sentence I checked it another 2 times. So would I be doing a service for myself if I used Facebook less and played more videogames? Probably not. What to do then?
I want to read. I really really wish I could just pick up a book and read it for 2 hours easy. I'm just not focused enough to do that. My sisters claim I have ADHD. I don't know... I think that's just a made up problem so parents can drug their kids to get them to shut up. I don't know... I'll probably get it when I go off to College.
Speaking of which, I'm thinking I wanna change my blog. I'm starting College in a month, and I think I should make a new one, mostly because I don't like the name and want to change it. But I can't without making a whole new blog. So I think I'm gonna do that. If you want, tell me what you think, about my blog, about me making a new one, anything at all.
-Æ
Monday, July 26, 2010
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Fear
I tell people that I don't live in fear. I say I do things without fear of reprocution. “I do what I want,” is a phrase that has passed through my lips a number of times. It is important to not live in fear. If fear dictates your life, you are not in control. If you are not in control, your life is meaningless. I like to believe in a philosophy of never living in fear. I do as I please, as long as it’s legal...usually. I don’t go around killing people, but I don’t let any punk push me around either.
If you, the reader, haven’t guessed it yet, I’m pretty good at articulating what I think and feel easily. I choose my words wisely, and get my point across. I mean what I say, and I say what I mean.
As I have said before, in today’s society, our personal lives and our public lives are slowly but surely merging together. With social media these days, our entire lives are revolving around the technology we so desperately need.
Then we reach a problem.
I...have a secret. Well...actually it’s not a secret at all, if you really know me. It’s a very public fact about me. And there is where we see the problem. My “secret” is something that, at this time, not very socially accepted. It is slowly becoming more and more socially accepted, but just like any social “issue,” it shall take time to break such “taboos.”
I just wonder if being so open about this secret might lead to closed opportunities, loss of friendship, or general disdain from others. This is why I’m not saying the secret on this blog post. This secret, if it were known by everyone, would mean I could not be president, could doubtfully be a congressman, and could doubtfully manage to become mayor, especially in this town...
I live in a relatively liberal state, I go to a liberal college, and I still have to keep my secret a...secret. The majority of the population that is different from me can take this specific difference and flaunt it. Use it to their advantage. Use it, even to cause trouble or even harm.
Not me. People who share my secret do no harm, although the majority disagree. We're just like everyone else, though some claim we aren't real Americans. We are strong, our numbers are increasing in yet we are told that...
I have said too much...
So what do I do? Do I come out of the proverbial closet? Or do I play it safe? Do I reveal who I really am and what I really think, or do I swallow my pride and hope that acceptance of people like me shall continue?
(BTW, no, I’m not gay. The secret is not that I’m gay. There’s a gay congressman so my congressman sentence wouldn’t make sense if that was the secret)
I guess the future is the only thing that will tell me the answer. I fear my actions as a child and young adult may ultimately lead to my (theoretical) political downfall, if I were to ever go into such things. Who knows?
-Æ
If you, the reader, haven’t guessed it yet, I’m pretty good at articulating what I think and feel easily. I choose my words wisely, and get my point across. I mean what I say, and I say what I mean.
As I have said before, in today’s society, our personal lives and our public lives are slowly but surely merging together. With social media these days, our entire lives are revolving around the technology we so desperately need.
Then we reach a problem.
I...have a secret. Well...actually it’s not a secret at all, if you really know me. It’s a very public fact about me. And there is where we see the problem. My “secret” is something that, at this time, not very socially accepted. It is slowly becoming more and more socially accepted, but just like any social “issue,” it shall take time to break such “taboos.”
I just wonder if being so open about this secret might lead to closed opportunities, loss of friendship, or general disdain from others. This is why I’m not saying the secret on this blog post. This secret, if it were known by everyone, would mean I could not be president, could doubtfully be a congressman, and could doubtfully manage to become mayor, especially in this town...
I live in a relatively liberal state, I go to a liberal college, and I still have to keep my secret a...secret. The majority of the population that is different from me can take this specific difference and flaunt it. Use it to their advantage. Use it, even to cause trouble or even harm.
Not me. People who share my secret do no harm, although the majority disagree. We're just like everyone else, though some claim we aren't real Americans. We are strong, our numbers are increasing in yet we are told that...
I have said too much...
So what do I do? Do I come out of the proverbial closet? Or do I play it safe? Do I reveal who I really am and what I really think, or do I swallow my pride and hope that acceptance of people like me shall continue?
(BTW, no, I’m not gay. The secret is not that I’m gay. There’s a gay congressman so my congressman sentence wouldn’t make sense if that was the secret)
I guess the future is the only thing that will tell me the answer. I fear my actions as a child and young adult may ultimately lead to my (theoretical) political downfall, if I were to ever go into such things. Who knows?
-Æ
Saturday, July 3, 2010
Butts County
As I write this, I am going to Ohio, via automobile, to see my grandparents, and then to Michigan to see my cousins and their awe-striking children. Half black/half white children are, in my opinion, the most good looking children on the planet.
At this very moment, I am crossing through the lovely state of Georgia, roughly 40 miles south of Atlanta and closing. Interestingly enough, we are in “Butts County.” Yes, that’s right, B-U-T-T-S county. Fascinating.
I find it interesting that a mere hundred miles or so from my home state yields such a peculiar difference in how the social norm is. I are smart.
I saw a large billboard where the biggest word on it said “STRIPPERS.” I was no longer in Florida anymore. I saw a second billboard with four attractive women surrounding the words “Liquor Store.” Another one showed a man and a woman and a website to “bestmarriage.com.” One can only imagine what that could be about. Those were the only billboards that I actually got a good enough view to see since I was too busy watching a movie. I feel that there were much more peculiar billboards around.
In this state, I have seen three broken down pickup-trucks on the side of the highway, and all three of them were pulling trailers of watermelons. We got off of the highway because the traffic was getting bad. Then, the ultimate battle of wits took its course. Me vs. my mother. She wielded her atlas. I wielded my iPhone and its GPS application. It was the war of the route. Who could find a better route? Which one would be clear, and which one would go through Main Street in some random town? My mother won out, and we will probably be about 30 minutes behind schedule, alongside the time we will lose from getting off the highway. I’m not bitter.
I just passed what appeared to be a mega-church with a truck that said on the side: “our business is souls.” You know, collecting them, indulging them, robbing them blind, selling them false hope, scaring them blind, and ultimately “protecting” them from damnation.
After seeing that, I just passed another three churches, one of them was most certainly a mega church. We then changed roads and passed 3 more churches.
We were at a stoplight, and noticed a faint smell of burning rubber and saw smoke coming out of the back of the car. We pull into a Popeye’s chicken where my mother and I eat at while my father drives to a car repair shop to assess the damage. After eating in the Popeye’s, my mother and I go to BigLots to kill time. There I see a gentleman... I can’t describe him in words, let me show you...
Lovely, I know.
So now we’re on the road once more, hopefully going to get to Ohio. I told you, my reader, about Ohio once before. ‘Tis a lovely place.
If you hadn’t already noticed, I’m not writing this entire thing all at once like usual, I’m writing it in waves, as things happen. And now I’d like to tell you about a little place located in between Georgia and Kentucky. A place called Tennessee. It’s a very interesting little state, where the dialect sometimes gets lost in translation. This was the midpoint of our journey. We stopped at a gas station there and I saw something that I can only describe to you as...interesting...
Indeed. That’s “mamy.”
Little did I know that this gas station was secretly a time machine to 1901. Classy.
The next day, we finally get on the road. Then we enter Kentucky, or as my father calls it: Ken-damn-tucky. It was boring there.
We finally reach Ohio!!!!
We stop to get gas, and a young gentleman, no younger than 17, no older than 22, was inside and needed directions to some random place in town. Well I just whip out my handy dandy iPhone, open up the maps act, and say you must know how to work this, and hand the phone to him. His look implied that I might have handed him a ticking bomb and pliers and had said “you must know how to disarm this.” I take the thing back, and type it up, and get him the directions.
We have finally reached my grandparents’ house. Hooray for no cellphone service! If you go into an AT&T store, and look at the map of coverage, there is a little tiny dot in north central Ohio that my grandparents call home. My father’s computer is, somehow, the only one that can get internet, meaning I’m still typing this in a stupid Pages document! fakjls;dfjkl;kafl;sdjkfaskfd.
My grandfather read something very true: If people found out that computers caused their arms to fall off, the would still be typing.
We cannot disconnect ourselves from the world. It’s impossible. Kids these days do nothing but log on and update their Facebook status every 3 seconds. I myself can barely stand the fact that I can’t log onto Firefox right now on my own computer. It’s driving me insane!!!
I'll finish my fun time in vacation later...
At this very moment, I am crossing through the lovely state of Georgia, roughly 40 miles south of Atlanta and closing. Interestingly enough, we are in “Butts County.” Yes, that’s right, B-U-T-T-S county. Fascinating.
I find it interesting that a mere hundred miles or so from my home state yields such a peculiar difference in how the social norm is. I are smart.
I saw a large billboard where the biggest word on it said “STRIPPERS.” I was no longer in Florida anymore. I saw a second billboard with four attractive women surrounding the words “Liquor Store.” Another one showed a man and a woman and a website to “bestmarriage.com.” One can only imagine what that could be about. Those were the only billboards that I actually got a good enough view to see since I was too busy watching a movie. I feel that there were much more peculiar billboards around.
In this state, I have seen three broken down pickup-trucks on the side of the highway, and all three of them were pulling trailers of watermelons. We got off of the highway because the traffic was getting bad. Then, the ultimate battle of wits took its course. Me vs. my mother. She wielded her atlas. I wielded my iPhone and its GPS application. It was the war of the route. Who could find a better route? Which one would be clear, and which one would go through Main Street in some random town? My mother won out, and we will probably be about 30 minutes behind schedule, alongside the time we will lose from getting off the highway. I’m not bitter.
I just passed what appeared to be a mega-church with a truck that said on the side: “our business is souls.” You know, collecting them, indulging them, robbing them blind, selling them false hope, scaring them blind, and ultimately “protecting” them from damnation.
After seeing that, I just passed another three churches, one of them was most certainly a mega church. We then changed roads and passed 3 more churches.
We were at a stoplight, and noticed a faint smell of burning rubber and saw smoke coming out of the back of the car. We pull into a Popeye’s chicken where my mother and I eat at while my father drives to a car repair shop to assess the damage. After eating in the Popeye’s, my mother and I go to BigLots to kill time. There I see a gentleman... I can’t describe him in words, let me show you...
Lovely, I know.
So now we’re on the road once more, hopefully going to get to Ohio. I told you, my reader, about Ohio once before. ‘Tis a lovely place.
If you hadn’t already noticed, I’m not writing this entire thing all at once like usual, I’m writing it in waves, as things happen. And now I’d like to tell you about a little place located in between Georgia and Kentucky. A place called Tennessee. It’s a very interesting little state, where the dialect sometimes gets lost in translation. This was the midpoint of our journey. We stopped at a gas station there and I saw something that I can only describe to you as...interesting...
Indeed. That’s “mamy.”
Little did I know that this gas station was secretly a time machine to 1901. Classy.
The next day, we finally get on the road. Then we enter Kentucky, or as my father calls it: Ken-damn-tucky. It was boring there.
We finally reach Ohio!!!!
We stop to get gas, and a young gentleman, no younger than 17, no older than 22, was inside and needed directions to some random place in town. Well I just whip out my handy dandy iPhone, open up the maps act, and say you must know how to work this, and hand the phone to him. His look implied that I might have handed him a ticking bomb and pliers and had said “you must know how to disarm this.” I take the thing back, and type it up, and get him the directions.
We have finally reached my grandparents’ house. Hooray for no cellphone service! If you go into an AT&T store, and look at the map of coverage, there is a little tiny dot in north central Ohio that my grandparents call home. My father’s computer is, somehow, the only one that can get internet, meaning I’m still typing this in a stupid Pages document! fakjls;dfjkl;kafl;sdjkfaskfd.
My grandfather read something very true: If people found out that computers caused their arms to fall off, the would still be typing.
We cannot disconnect ourselves from the world. It’s impossible. Kids these days do nothing but log on and update their Facebook status every 3 seconds. I myself can barely stand the fact that I can’t log onto Firefox right now on my own computer. It’s driving me insane!!!
I'll finish my fun time in vacation later...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)