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There are so many other things I could be doing right now that would be more productive than writing this blog post, but I could give two less shits about that stuff. It's kind of interesting, to see how I've come to really enjoy writing blogs posts, even if they are completely sporadic and ill-conceived, biased, offensive, and generally not well put together. But I like it. It's fun to say things you wouldn't normally say or don't have any appropriate situation in which to express such things. And I think it serves a purpose. Don't know exactly what that is...but fuck it.

I. I -- I don't know what to say. I don't have any great tyrannical rants to bombard you with. I don't have any sweeping hand gestures with which to amaze and distract you. Sigh.

I know that's why people write about simple things. Tiny little events or miscellaneous happenings in the world. Because it's too much work to always write all the time about something big and heavy and revolutionary and amazing and revealing. Right now I feel as if I'm becoming winded. And it's ironic, that I'm writing about writing about easily comprehended or whimsical things with an attitude to the contrary. I'm doing it again. I'm boiling things down to their philosophical root and raving about things. Woo hoo.

Jeez, man. I can hear the blood pulsing in my ears. Is that normal? I don't know. It's annoying.

We're supposed to right another essay and I have no idea what I'm going to write about. I have no Mountain Dew left in my can. This saddens me. I don't know what about other stuff I'm supposed to say now. That sentence was completely automatic in its inception. It was pretty cool.

I just wanna go somewhere and sit. I want to sit and relax on a beach somewhere way off the grid. I want to go to paradise, get belligerently drunk, and sit and watch the world. That sounds like an old person thing to do. But I would do it. I would wear a light blue button-down and cargos, some sort of light footwear, no sunglasses. Okay sunglasses. I would go to an island in a primitive craft, land there, and sit under the shade of the trees. And then just sit. And watch. And wait. That sounds so nice. Away from the rest of the world.

That was a weird feeling I had yesterday. It's tomorrow now, from yesterday's perspective, so I'm writing this with a different general feeling now.

I feel like I might get excited again. No, I know that it's the best thing to do. Kick in the crotch. That sounds painful.

I went to a city the other day. And it was interesting. Urban layouts interest me. Not so much interest me as I find them interesting. I saw more people moving about than I had ever seen outside of school. Now I'm annoyed because I have something mildly interesting to express but I think if I execute it in such a fashion as I was just about to, I'll find it insufferable and I'll throw this computer out the window, killing a pedestrian gruesomely. We wouldn't want that now would we?

The little bits of skin-like material that grow in around your fingernails are annoying. I just want to file it all away.

I look around and I see lots of talent. I see lots of creative and practical, genuinely helpful talent. I see unlimited potential. But realizing potential requires effort. Effort equals energy expended, and that makes headaches. And headaches are uncomfortable. And being uncomfortable fucking sucks. So people don't realize their potential. That and the great game of life we play gets in the way, even actively works to limit one's realization of potential. And that is just a shitty deal.

Why do I have this bipolar world view? One minute the world is wonderful and smells of fruit, the next it's a dark hole full of a mixture of cold water and shit. And I mean literally shit, as in the stuff that comes from an anus.

Music fascinates me. Bad music is way too on the radio too much. It's everywhere. And rock music really sucks anymore. I like rock. And some of the new rock is seriously painful to listen to. It fucking sucks. Nickelback, every other band that fits that unoriginal, generic, description with no guitar solo or really any intricate or complicated musical anything, just die. Seriously you suck.

I tell things they suck a lot. I try not to tell people that. But some people really do sucky things. I had to sit through some presentations recently and it was absolutely atrocious. I can't watch people who suck at speaking in front of people. I get embarassed for them. Reading from a paper is one of the worst offences. I can read a paper myself. I can read text in any medium for that matter, it's the presenter's job to bring an element that isn't found in the information itself. That's the whole idea. Make it memorable, make it powerful, make the information gain a dimension that it doesn't have by itself. I'm repeating myself, but this shit is important.

If I am ever a teacher everything is a presentation. You don't just give an answer, you present an answer. You are selling me an answer. Everyone is trying to selling everyone else something. Not in the literal sense of the word, but we are trying to convince many people, sometimes everyone, of one or another. We do this in our dress, our hairstyles, or smells, everything about ourselves. Many people are not very good at selling themselves to people. Those who aren't relatable, social, attractive, warm or funny. Or even interesting. Yup.

I have 974 words, in case you were wondering.

Cartoons destroy linear thought, and generally disintegrate one's cognitive function altogether. My kids will not watch TV. It's fucking terrible for a developing mind. Really not good. Not beneficial to a young child. Not beneficial to anyone for that matter. Fast-changing screens are not cool. Bright colors, also not cool. The two put together? Terribly detrimental combination.

The universe pretty well fascinates me. And I really like music. I really like music. One thing I never understood is how the very basis of music works. I mean, I know how music evolved, sort of. But Who decided that an E note is this frequency or that? Where were the definitions first formulated? Why do we agree on those? I don't understand many parts of music and I would really like to study more of it. But I almost worry, that if I study something and come to discover x number of truths and gain an understanding, I won't be fascinated anymore. The excitement is not in knowing, but knowing that you don't know. The excitement is all in the pursuit of the unknown, in the chase to know something or do something or find something. And that in itself is interesting because I know that I know that, but I still find it exciting that I know that. Sort of ironic, isn't it?