Stagnation. That's what it is. It's all because nothing ever changes. My entire life has been the same old crap. It's no wonder that I begin noticing all these prolems. They've been around all this time. It's like the chinese water torture. It doesn't matter how trivial and silly the thing seems. The slightest amount of discomfort builds up over time. "Bah, it's just water dripping on you. Get over it." Uh huh. Think I'm overreacting? Think I'm being silly? Anytime you'd like to trade problems is fine with me.
Want to belittle my
troubles? Knock yourself out, you arrogant little punk. You don't understand, you wouldn't understand if given the chance, and you refuse to listen when I try to explain. Well, I'm explaining now. Maybe it would do you some good to listen for once.
I don't blame people for not listening to me; the people in power, that is. If I ever begin to doubt their judgement, all I have to do is look at the people around me. That's a reality check as effective as a slap in the face. As for the people around me: well, many of them don't listen because they're stupid and simply don't have the mental capacity to understand. The rest don't want to associate with such a depressing person as myself. That seems familiar. I know I've stated that before. Oh, that's right, it's a few pages down. There's that tornado again.
This kind of stuff drives people mad. It causes midlife crises. It's one dead end after another. I've lost every friend I've ever had and can find no more people worth even the price of the trendy clothes they wear. Failure, futility, and frustration bar my every move.
Lost causes abound.
I've seen people mock my gloomy disposition. Laugh it up, boys. You wouldn't find it so funny if you were shoved into the Pit. Someday you, too, will know my pain, and smile its black-toothed grin. Nobody can escape it. Nobody has escaped it. Just ask around. Just ask me. That's all.
I don't know if there really is a K3wLGrRl69420. It wouldn't surprise me. If there is, so be it. That's coincidence for you. Nevertheless, this is the kind of person I deal with; trendy to the core. The alias proclaims the owner's superiority. The spelling of girl as grrl (gurl would also be acceptable) shows...well, ignorance of or absence of respect for the english language. Kids today...no respect. Sheesh. The numbers 69 and 420 are the "in" digits of today, or so I'm led to believe. People think those numbers are so funny and clever. Eh, whatever. The alternating capitalization of letters shows...frankly, I have no idea what it shows. Perhaps it shows that the user is mentally unstable. It sure looks pretty shaky and spastic to me.
You know, I may not appear to be, but I really am a fair guy. Despite the endless madness I endure at the hands of my peers, I inevitably think to myself, "Well, maybe they've changed a bit. Maybe they're not so bad now. Maybe there's hope yet." I never learn. Just when I'm starting to regain a little faith in humanity, something happens to shake the faith down to the very foundation. It never fails; over and over again.
But hey, that's ok. I can make the best of this. The cowards I have to deal with wouldn't dare to mouth off to my face, so they do so anonymously (or so they think) online through the AOL Instant Messenger or my guestbook. So, without further ado, I present to you the joys of meaningless, online arguments.
First off, take a close look at your adversary's alias; particularly the numbers. If you see a 69 and/or a 420, the odds are that you're in for a treat. If you see song names, band names, or brand names, it's even more likely that you're dealing with a complete ass. Every ass I've dealt with has these elements in his alias. However, not everyone I've dealt who has these elements in his alias is an ass. Keep that in mind.
Anyway, the most interesting kind of online argument is a battle of wits. Let's face it: you can only recite so many dozens of profane insults before they begin sounding stale and uninteresting, and telling someone to engage in sexual activity with himself or herself has simply lost its charm over the years. Thus, the best way to "win" an online argument is to frustrate and confuse your foe to no end. A wide and varied vocabulary is a must. Put down that thesaurus. Not only do you not have the time to look up every impressive word you want to use against someone, but more often than not you will end up sounding pretensious, and that's a big no-no. If it's not your own voice, don't use it. Stick with your profanity and slang that you don't even know the definitions of. Just hope that your enemy doesn't ask you just that.
Yes, online arguing is entertainment for the whole family. Not only do you get the chance to feel better about yourself by belittling your fellow man, but you can experience the thrills of avoiding mafia hitmen which your new worst enemy sends after you. It's an educational experience, too. Learn that the stupidity of mankind knows no bounds. Come to understand what true overreaction really is. Discover that people really have no shame or restraint whatsoever.
Go ahead. Take the plunge. Express yourself. With luck, you'll draw the attention of thousands of complete fools who are better than you, and who are not afraid to tell you so. Endure the slings and arrows of countless jackasses, hour after hour, day after day, month after month. Then you will come to understand my world. And if you simply can't meet endless streams of people who will fight you with no provocation on your part, then do me a favor and keep your mouth shut about my misery.
Valentine's Day. Phooey. Yes, I know it's over now. It's just another day. Popular people flaunt their popularity and loners wallow in their solitude. Everyday is like that for me. I get lonely sometimes, but then I think of the alternatives and the feeling quickly fades again. I hate the sound of laughter. It gives me that feeling. I hate the sight of people having fun. It, too, gives me that feeling. I hate feeling. How's that for a self-defeating cause?
Emotion. Phooey. It just gets in the way. People waste energy feeling bad for themselves or for others, and they waste time in feeling good for themselves or for others. I waste a lot of energy. I tried killing off my emotions a while back. It worked for a bit. Then they came back. They weren't as strong as before, but still. What a waste of time.
Now, I know I'm supposed to be feeling something right now, but I don't know what it is. I've tried to figure it out, but to no avail. I'm just wasting my time. I've wasted a lot of time trying to figure the world out. It's like trying to count the grains of sand being whipped around in a tornado. Not only are there too many grains of sand to be counted, but they're flung around at, say, one-hundred miles per hour, and in attempting to count them one runs the risk of being impaled by an errant tree. I think I have too much time to waste. Then again, some explanation is better than nothing. At least, for me it is. And yet, with all this time I failed to create a decent title for this composition.
I end up fighting myself often. There are too many variables. One would think that being betrayed
by others would be enough, but I suppose I'm not satisfied until I betray myself a few times. I don't really mean to, but I guess one can't make an omelet without breaking a few eggs. I don't know what kind of breakfast I'm making, but it had better be worth all this trouble. That's the second analogy I've made thus far. I like to be more direct than that. Well, I guess that's just the nature of the beast. Three. Emotion is often difficult to put into prose. I guess that's why we have poetry and music. What a pain. My personal arguments
with myself go around in circles. There's the tornado again. Four. Perhaps this would be better expressed in a poem. I'm being unusually terse. I digress.
Maybe I ask for too much, that's why I always end up arguing with myself. It's a ridiculous cycle. For example, the argument over friends goes like this:
C: It's awfully quiet.
D: And lonely.
C: I could use some company.
D: Nobody wants to be near someone so depressing as yourself.
C: I wouldn't be so depressing if I had friends.
D: You can't have friends because you're so depressing.
C: I don't like them anyway.
D: They don't like you either.
C: I know.
D: You wouldn't have much to talk about.
C: No.
D: You're too different.
C: Yeah.
D: The rejection has been rather depressing.
C: Acceptance wouldn't mean much anyway.
D: Right.
C: We'd just be separated in a few years. No need to make temporary alliances.
D: Right.
C: It's awfully quiet.
D: And lonely.
...
I forgot where I was going with this. Maybe I shouldn't write things early in the morning anymore.
Oh, right. Emotion. Phooey. Fear, hate, darkness, vengeance. What a waste of energy. Welcome to the Pit. If you don't like it, then go back to your silver linings and happy, shiny people. You belong here no more than I belong with you.
Well, now none of you can ever say that I have no fun in my life. You see, I've discovered the joys of frightening small children. I was walking home a bit later than usual, having stayed after school to finish some business of mine. I ended up behind a group of junior high school punks. Yes, I remember those days well, and wouldn't you know it, my peers haven't changed a bit since then.
I'm sure that not very many of you have had the pleasure of having a complete stranger ask you if you're going to beat him and all of his friends up. Please tell me, gang, because I've really been wondering about this one...do you people ever think before you go shooting your mouths off? No, really; I'm serious. This is a group of about a dozen people. They're only about eleven years old, but still, they outnumber me twelve to one. "Are you going to beat us up?" I don't know what these people are thinking. I don't think I really want to know. If you think someone is dangerous, you don't go and try to provoke him. Just disregard the fact that I'm not dangerous; you have to throw reason and common sense out the window when dealing with these kinds of people.
Again, what's particularly disturbing about this kind of incident is that I get the same sort of nonsense from, say, high school seniors as I do from some little punk who belongs back in elementary school. Something is definitely wrong here, folks. Either something is very corrupt in the fabric of society or I'm a target for everybody. I don't know about you, but I think it's much more likely that kids today aren't getting enough discipline than there being a global conspiracy against me. Bring back the paddle in schools, I say! Smack
some sense into these lunatics! No, wait...that's not very politically correct. We'll just pretend all is right in the world while it plunges into anarchy. We don't need to hear any of that silly negativity and pessimism.
I saw an interesting shirt today. It had a message on it which read, "Obstacles are what you see when you take your eyes off the goal." Well, contrary to this belief, obstacles are in fact what you slam into at full speed when you aren't paying attention to them. People enjoy making snide remarks about how pessimistic I am. These people should be a bit more realistic. They really believe that if they think they can do something, the world will stop turning and all obstacles will magically disappear so that they can accomplish their goal. What kind of twisted mentality is this? Kids today...sheesh. They've been brainwashed with various trendy slogans like "There is no I in team" and "Your I Will is more important than your I.Q." So, we have a bunch of complete morons banding together in large, unstoppable, mindless followings who think they can do whatever the hell they want. I think it goes without saying that this is dangerous. From these power-mad trend cults we end up with people like me: those whom they have trampled upon, and do you really want more people like
me walking around?
Besides, this "mind over matter" school of thought only takes you so far. True, in general you have to want something to achieve it, but I don't care how badly you want to fly: if you hurl yourself off the roof of a barn, you're going to plummet 50 feet and break your spine. You can't defy the workings of the world any more than you can defy physics, and the world
doesn't care about the individual. People aren't going to step aside to make room for you, at least not a significant number. You can waste your life away waiting for your turn, or you can try fighting your way through until someone stronger than you knocks you flat on your ass. In the end it all comes down to the luck of the draw. Some people make it and some people don't. Life isn't fair. It could be, but the masses bar the path of justice.
I suppose now some of you will be thinking, "Well with that attitude things really
aren't going to change." I cordially invite them to kiss my ass. Wake up. Look around. One person can't make a difference. The few who have are the exceptions, not the rule. Let's suppose that by some divine intervention the world begins living life by the thoughts I express here. To be frank, we'd have world peace. Do any of you truly believe that everyone is going to just suddenly stop making each other miserable because one loner freak thinks they should? I certainly hope not. We don't need any more irrational thinkers wandering around these days.
Others among you may be thinking, "Well, if things are so bad, jackass, why don't you do something about it?" If I really had that much control over the world, do you think I'd have let people treat me like filth my entire life? Besides, if you really think about it, I am doing something about it. I can think; I notice things others don't. It's up to people who have some influence in the world to change it. I can only watch from afar and point out the faults that bring me misery, perhaps some explanations for it, maybe some
possible solutions. Outside of that, I can do nothing. How can you expect me to change that which I'm not even a part of, but still must experience? What do you think I can do to reform the corruption of those who ostracize me? Do you think they'll just abandon their wicked ways, say, "You're right, DV," welcome me into their little trendy circle, and then live in harmony with everything in the universe for the rest of their lives? People think pessimism is bad, although I think my views are more realistic than anything, yet they embrace this kind of foolish optimism? It's a small wonder that nothing is changing; people have their heads so far up their asses they couldn't find ways out if they had compasses and maps.