I’m something like 3-4 hours away from reactivating my Facebook again, so in the following time that I shall use to procrastinate, I just wanted to write about this week.
You know, it’s been something like 4 years since I’ve really been away from that megalomaniac of a site that so many of us love, and it’s really been strange. Not even when I was behind the great firewall of China, or at camp in EPGY, did I really face this kind of separation.
The quiet of the day, or the subtle things that bring me amusement, I think that I started to miss that. Being more isolated sort of brought everything else around me into sharper focus. I would compare it to looking out through a beautiful scene while the sun is in your eyes, versus a more overcast day. Even though the sun might be nice and warm you up, at the end of the day you’re left with a sunburn and horrible eyes from staring at it too long. An overcast day might seem dreary at first, but as you get accustomed to it, you actually begin to notice nature for what it is, not just for what it appeared to be.
I think I was starting to get Stockholm’s syndrome from too much Facebook.
O. M. Egle
Cannot believe that I just found about that beautiful service called omegle.com. Maybe it’s just because I’m starting to get a bit deprived of attention ..which is exactly why I would die in a long term space adventure. I just wouldn’t be able to stand being in the same place and living with the exact same person at all times.
I mean, yes you get all those creeps with their shirts…and more intimate clothing…off, but then you get these awesome people who are actual published poets, these people who are actual scientists, and especially people from around the world.
I don’t know…maybe I’ve been spending a bit too much time on it though…my IP got blacklisted because I was on for too much time in one sitting, so now I have to answer a captcha before each chat…especially annoying when half the people disconnect the instance they see me.
Whelp, gotta finish English essays!
Isn’t potpourri just such a fun word to say? Just the connotations mixed with this basket of spiced fruits, slowly dissipating it’s smell throughout the house…
That has almost nothing to do with I want to write about, but because of the backlog of ideas, this post will sound more jumbled than I would have imagined at the beginning, probably conflicting with itself multiple times, and just thoroughly confusing.
…so, potpourri it is!
Man, writing is really dependent on mood. I was planning on doing this moderately artsy piece on shattered mirrors, but now I can’t get this image of my mom looking at an iPhone 4 and saying, wait this is different from my old purple htc?
I suppose I should be appreciative. After all, if she hasn’t lost her phone, then she wouldn’t have taken dad’s to use, who then would jot be irked and convinced that she needs her own phone, which would then not allow me I get a nice upgrade.
But teaching them how to use technology… SO AWESOME
It’s been interesting being away from Facebook.
Or for that matter, the rest of the Internet. It’s a lot more boring, and perhaps less appetizing, to lie in bed with a smartphone if you can’t really chat with friends or to browse Reddit.
People should try this more often. No, not because Facebook is a monster that is destroying the lives if everything it touches, as my lovely mother will certainly make a claim for, but to figure out what you would do in that new found time.
Stepping into the shower
Where dreams lay to rest
And my body and soul
Is thoroughly cleansed.
Smells of warm humidity
Fogging up mirrors
That look into my self
Bringing on a hazy glaze
Busy busy busy
The man rushes through life
Not taking a break
“Don’t need it? Don’t do it!”
But as he steps through
Those doubled paned glass walls
Of his million dollar, gotta holler, sooooo amazing house
That he built with his own determination
And with lies and deceit
He just breaks down
Tears belong into that cleansing water
Drawing out all his worries
Into the wide open
To be rushed down
Into the ocean.
Sometimes, the most critical things need to break down for the most true to fly free.
Today was Valentine’s Day.
Today’s the day where the cute couples get together, and the single people also get together and laugh narcissistic. It’s the day full of love, but also filled with sadness (SAD FTW). Today is a very special day for many people.
It was particularly special by breaking my heart.
Well, you know, the good kinds. That are legitimately sold by people in fancy white lab coats and… Oh you know what I’ll just stop talking.
Remind me to never attempt to write quickly on my phone. Virtual keyboards just don’t work for me; I need the taciturn feel and length of a real keyboard. I heard that there was new tech coming out for making raised platforms on the screen when the keyboard comes out, but that’s at least two years away.
So, onto pills….
*Actually guilt tripping myself into writing this. Not sure why, do I need a reason for it?
I sorta hate my body right now.
Sure, it is filled with all of these crazily cool biological functions that our best scientists do not understand, and sure there are all sorts of automatic inbred reflexes from thousands of years of breeding. And of course, maybe there is all this whacky stuff just going on in the higher mental statuses of your brain, capable of understanding, and dare I say it, knowing! What a remarkable achievement!
And then a tiny, not even organism status, viral infection comes along and somehow screws it all up. I mean, seriously, from a biological aspect, a virus isn’t that awesome. According to my chemistry book (dur, don’t take bio because IB Chem FTW), viruses are just packets of DNA/RNA surrounded by a thin protein layer, which then infects cells and forces those healthy cells to produce more viruses.
Why can’t I, an organism of 50 some trillion cells, defend myself against this puny little midget? Why is this virus able to cause fevers, headaches, muscle pains, coughs, sore throats, stomach pains, and other symptoms, even though I have a fully functioning immune system?
I blame IB.