This is going to be a run of the mill blog, because this absolutely needs to be done.
Today needs to be written down, just because of how epic it was. I finally have something genuine to write about.
One major reason is, because I ran into the fucking RZA today. In the flesh.
If you don’t know who the RZA is, I have no words for you.
The RZA is an American Grammy winning music producer, author, rapper, and occasional actor, director, and screenwriter. A prominent figure in hip hop music, he is the de facto leader of the Wu-Tang Clan. He has produced almost all of Wu-Tang Clan's albums as well as many Wu-Tang solo and affiliate projects. He subsequently gained attention for his work scoring and acting in films.
He also produced one of the best beats I’ve ever heard. Ever. C.r.e.a.m.
It was amazing too, I was already pretty high and was walking down the street, when a friend of a friend [wearing the ‘Beats by Dr. Dre’ headphones,] who was walking towards us – told us that the RZA was actually standing at the street corner.
That’s when I started walking aimlessly down the street hoping to see the legend. And I did, too.
I don’t even know if what happened next can even be considered me meeting the guy, so you figure it out. My jaw fell to the floor, my mouth was shaped like an ‘O’ [literally,] and I didn’t know what to do. So, the RZA, who is on the phone and looks very tired, extends his hand and we all shake it.
And then we just walked away. I could not believe what had just happened. I had shook hands with the RZA.
And even though something so epic happened, we were mad at ourselves, me and my friends, by the fact that we didn’t ask the RZA to toke with us. Hopefully I’ll run into him again someday, and it’ll end up happening.
But nonetheless, I feel like I can die a happy man now. I have actually met the RZA, and have shaken his hand. I feel blessed.
Other than that, all I did all day was hang out with Mary Jane, and read Prometheus Rising by Robert A. Wilson while under the influence.
All at Rittenhouse Square – the place I am officially dubbing ‘heaven.’ I met the RZA in front of it, for one. And it’s where I hung out all day in the beautiful weather, with lots of very awesome people. A scene of the M. Night Shyamalan movie “The Happening” was also shot there. I’m going to take lots of pictures of the place soon. ^___^
So all in all, today was a pretty epic day. I’m just going to end it at that. I still can’t believe most of it. Yeah.
I read The Hacker’s Manifesto (blogged about below) for my speech in public speaking. I got the review forms and stuff back.
Scored a 92 out of a 100. I’m pretty proud of myself.
I’ve been having an okay week.
I don’t know what else to write about. I feel like I’ve found isolating myself from things like society and everything is just so much more fun.
I can’t help it… otherwise, I feel like Im being strangled by everything. All at once. It’s not even funny.
It’s a demon that needs to constantly be awakened.
So when there is angst and depression, the best companion is the lack of companionship.
It’s like poking the demon with a stick on fire, just to wake it up.
And then it wakes up, the lump in your throat becomes heavier, and it feels like it’s about to rain.
And get very dark. And the walls and everything are just going to close in.
It’s like claustrophobia. Don’t you think?
The thought of being lonely. Or just loneliness in itself.
But it’s a demon that constantly wakes up.
And then it nibbles and shreds apart all the delicate fabrics of a comprehensive reality.
So that there is no more vision of the common truth.
It’s more likely a transformation, or enlightenment. Or maybe more like de-enlightenment.
And to think it all starts with depression and loneliness.
But it’s like a headache that won’t ever go away.
Because the demon isn’t just something that you can put back in the bottle. And you get to make no wishes at all.
Because nothing is listening to them, really. So it’s pretty much pointless.
When you realize this, you can rest assured that the threads of reality have been worn out. And the knot is loose, and the petals are all falling to the floor.
Bloodshot red, on the white grainy pavement.
Why do we tend to create Gods to begin with? Only to place them on a pedestal so high, that they’re prone to fall off one day, sooner or later. And everyone does, because everyone is human. Everyone will one day fall of the metaphorical pedestals they are resting on, in someone else’s head. Imagination. Vision of reality. The common comprehensive reality.
But it’s just a dream to me, anyway. Because that’s a reality that’s much more understandable to me at this point. Every other reality has fallen to the ground to be shattered into a million pieces of confusion. And so, this makes just as much sense as everything else has to this point in life.
It’s funny, but is this what you would describe living?
A constant tumble.
A question mark.
An unexamined life is not worth living.
Deep too, I remember I had a heart somewhere in there before the incident.
And now it’s just a black organ that pumps slug throughout my body. It’s like a void, actually, more like. A black hole. Yeah, pretty fucked up shit.
Can you start to see how fucked up things are?
Just some innocent victimless ramblings of an extra ordinarily depressed and angst-filled writer.
Don’t take things too seriously. There is no point.
The Hacker Manifesto by +++The Mentor+++ Written January 8, 1986
Another one got caught today, it’s all over the papers. “Teenager Arrested in Computer Crime Scandal”, “Hacker Arrested after Bank Tampering”…
Damn kids. They’re all alike.
But did you, in your three-piece psychology and 1950’s technobrain, ever take a look behind the eyes of the hacker? Did you ever wonder what made him tick, what forces shaped him, what may have molded him? I am a hacker, enter my world… Mine is a world that begins with school… I’m smarter than most of the other kids, this crap they teach us bores me…
Damn underachiever. They’re all alike.
I’m in junior high or high school. I’ve listened to teachers explain for the fifteenth time how to reduce a fraction. I understand it. “No, Ms. Smith, I didn’t show my work. I did it in my head…” Damn kid. Probably copied it. They’re all alike. I made a discovery today. I found a computer. Wait a second, this is cool. It does what I want it to. If it makes a mistake, it’s because I screwed it up. Not because it doesn’t like me… Or feels threatened by me.. Or thinks I’m a smart ass.. Or doesn’t like teaching and shouldn’t be here…
Damn kid. All he does is play games. They’re all alike.
And then it happened… a door opened to a world… rushing through the phone line like heroin through an addict’s veins, an electronic pulse is sent out, a refuge from the day-to-day incompetencies is sought… a board is found. “This is it… this is where I belong…” I know everyone here… even if I’ve never met them, never talked to them, may never hear from them again… I know you all…
Damn kid. Tying up the phone line again. They’re all alike…
You bet your ass we’re all alike… we’ve been spoon-fed baby food at school when we hungered for steak… the bits of meat that you did let slip through were pre-chewed and tasteless. We’ve been dominated by sadists, or ignored by the apathetic. The few that had something to teach found us willing pupils, but those few are like drops of water in the desert.
This is our world now… the world of the electron and the switch, the beauty of the baud. We make use of a service already existing without paying for what could be dirt-cheap if it wasn’t run by profiteering gluttons, and you call us criminals. We explore… and you call us criminals. We seek after knowledge… and you call us criminals. We exist without skin color, without nationality, without religious bias… and you call us criminals. You build atomic bombs, you wage wars, you murder, cheat, and lie to us and try to make us believe it’s for our own good, yet we’re the criminals.
Yes, I am a criminal. My crime is that of curiosity. My crime is that of judging people by what they say and think, not what they look like. My crime is that of outsmarting you, something that you will never forgive me for.
I am a hacker, and this is my manifesto. You may stop this individual, but you can’t stop us all… after all, we’re all alike.
I’ve been missing in action, I know. I don’t know how or why – I think it’s just the fact that I’ve been too busy, doing too many insane things in the past few months, that I can’t pay blogging any attention.
And it’s sad, specially because I have even more things running together at the same time now. It’s specially hard, because my attention span is so short. But I can’t help it!
I need to work on refining all the previous pieces of writing I have compiled. Will do that as soon as I stop being lazy, and maybe get time to do it.
Spring Break is going to end soon. If it hasn’t already. There was Saturday today, that I spent lazily doing nothing productive. Thanks to a stoner buddy that tends to go crazy every now and then. Not complaining.
Tomorrow is Sunday. I doubt I’m going to do anything tomorrow, but I plan on going to take a look at the new place I hope to move in to, tomorrow. It’s something that just doesn’t seem to be going anywhere. I semi lost hope, but m’eh. Maybe it’ll finally go through. It’s also something I’ve been meaning to take care of for almost a year now. Also to be done tomorrow, is the laundry. I wish myself luck.
After I’m off the break and college officially starts again, I know exactly how things are going to be. I’ll be struggling with class timings and project/homework due dates, like always.
–sigh- I don’t like college very much. To be very honest. I don’t think anyone does, though. And people that say they do are either crazy, or lying. And I’m not talking about the partying or socializing aspect of college, no, I’ve got that right under control. Can’t get enough of it. I think half of Philadelphia might know me by now. It’s the other part of college that has got me frustrated. The debatable concept that college is a system that can educate and is a process - necessary, or un-doubtfully fruitful. I don’t like it, no. But I’m trying, I really am.
I’m thinking of doing much more than I am right now. Maybe, somehow, hopefully. Managing and running a successful Youtube channel, is something I’ve been contemplating. For a while, too, actually.
Will take a lot more pictures as soon as the weather turns back to how I like it. Sunny, of course. It was just like that a few days ago, but it’s raining again. And it doesn’t seem like it wants to stop either. Soon!
Need to start podcasting again. I just need to be motivated, is what the problem is. No lies.
I really like this, writing down my thoughts. I don’t know why I haven’t been doing this as much as possible. Maybe I’ll start writing a lot again, like back in the days. Remember? I wonder if I still have the same amount of readers that I did a while ago. A number that I liked. Probably not, only one way to find out.
Yes, I’m taking this approach to blogging. Why? Because I can. It’s a part of my universe that isn’t highlighted as often as I’d like to. The part that revolves around music. It’s most of my world, in that context. Funny I don’t write about it as often. But I should start. And so I am.
Even if a person doesn’t listen to rap and hip hop, you can rest assured they realize that rap and hip hop is close to, if not already dead. With outlandish things like auto-tune and Lil Wayne, I should probably think twice before I call it rap and hip hop music anymore.
But there used to be a time, where music wasn’t completely pointless and not about having sex with ‘bitches’ and having a large bank account. Not that I’m going to talk about rap music in great detail, but only a few very good songs with very good music in the background. And the lyrics will be meaningful too every now and then. In no particular order, this list, so don’t think I’m evaluating anything.
High Til’ I Die – Tupac Shakur Apart from singing about killing people and living a tough life – Tupac also wrote songs about drugs. And this one is probably my favorite. Off of the Sunset Park OST – high til’ I die is a good song to be blazing to. Or just sitting back and listening to. Tupac’s lyrics are top notch, and the music does more than compliment them. It’s also the life of the song.
C.R.E.A.M. (cash rules everything around me) – Wu Tang Clan Anyone that knew me, also probably knew after reading the title of this post, that this song was going to be making the list. I love this beat so much, I can actually play it on a piano and guitar both.
One of the best beats I’ve ever heard, The RZA borrows this from “As Long As I’ve Got You” by The Charmels. The Charmels couldn’t have
predicted that the piano intro to their song would go on to spawn a rap song, but it did. In fact, the type of music in both songs is so different, it’s hard to imagine either contributing to create the other.
Also worth listening to is the instrumental to the Wu Tang song, by El Michels Affair.
The Wu Tang Clan ain’t nuttin ta fuck wit. I couldn’t resist, sorry.
Flashing Lights – Kanye West It’s not an old song, Kanye West is probably not the best rapper, and the genre’ is debatable too. But one thing is for certain – the fact that the beat Kanye managed to come up with is both very catchy, and very beautiful. Off of his album ‘Graduation’ – his lyrics and music both seemed to have evolved, which is a very good thing indeed. This song also provides us with something to miss, after 808 and Heartbreak.
We Got More – Shock G. ft. Luniz I’m not quite sure what this song is about, but I am fairly certain it involves smoking marijuana. And therefore, I will listen to it. Another thing that helps a great deal is the beat. I’m sure if you’re an appreciator of good music and blazing, you will come to love this song as much as I do.
The Breakdown – People Under The Stairs I couldn’t find a youtube video with The Breakdown by People Under The Stairs, so I’m putting up just the audio. And I underwent all the extra effort, because this list would definitely be incomplete if I didn’t put this song in here. One of the best beats I’ve ever heard, this is a very underrated song that has actually helped me go to sleep a lot of times. A must hear, if you’re a fan of good music.
Whenimondamic - Lootpack Mellow, soothing to the ears, and beautiful, is what this song is. They don’t make rap like this anymore, and you
should appreciate getting to hear this song. As with the Shock G song above, I’m certainly lost most of the time – when it comes to the lyrics. Some of it just plain and simply doesn’t make much sense – but it doesn’t matter. With a beat so well developed, I couldn’t care less. Although, I more than certainly get what the following line means: “But if wild child dies, before wild child wakes, I pray to God to step down and take down all them fake MCs. Pretty please.”
Why You Wanna – T.I. / Favorite Drug – Styles P
This song has been my ringtone for the longest time now, and has a whopping 101 plays on my iTunes. That’s much more than any other song I have. A sample of a slowed down keyboard chord from Crystal Water’s “Gypsy Woman”, it was used not only by T.I. for this song – but also rapper Styles P for “Favorite Drug.” Each rapper has tweaked the beat to their own
liking, and I can’t decide which one is better. Even though I probably prefer T.I.s’ version, it’s undeniable that the song is all about … having sex with a particular female and getting her to break up with her current boyfriend(?)
T.I. is one of the best rappers I’ve heard, and is definitely good with lyrics. It’s the fact that he raps about things like … having sex with females and getting them to break up with their boyfriend … that leaves the mind to ask for more meaningful things. But I’m not complaining with a beat so good.
Still Dre – Dr. Dre ft. Snoop Dogg
The first time I paid attention to this song was while being really high. It played on a friend’s phone, and I recognized the beat, but it was the first time I actually listened to it and paid attention. I was hooked right away, and first thing I did when I got home was to get the song.
This list would be incomplete if this song wasn’t mentioned, and you’ve probably heard it too. A classic, and a very good song to blaze to.
Game Over (Go Big Or Go Home Boy) – Doomtree I recently ventured and looked around for good independent and non-mainstream rap songs, only because of how much better they are, due to the fact that artists creating these wonders are not aiming to get on the radio. Or even if they are, they’re not aiming for the sheeple that listen to the crap the radio plays today. And it’s a very good thing. One listen to Doomtree’s ‘Game Over’ and you’ll agree.
All Eyez On Me – Tupac / Street Dreams – Nas Another instrumental that was used by two rappers, and that too, two of the
most well known rappers in the business. Need I say more?
One of Tupac’s best songs, in my opinion anyway. Tupac and Nas both made apparent changes to the beat, and it’s arguable which one I like better. They’re both really good, and that’s why they’re both here.
Hero – Nas ft. Keri Hilson It’s ridiculous how good this beat is. So good that I learned how to play it on the piano, and also how to recreate it using Fruity Loops.
Also note how subtle Keri Hilson’s role in the song is, yet it would be missed if it wasn’t there.
A very underrated 2008 song, you shouldn’t not listen to this if you like rap music.
Superman, The Real Slim Shady, White America, Guilty Conscience – Eminem I’m putting Eminem in this list, just for the sake of having Eminem on this list. Truth. It would be too hard on my conscience if I made a list concerning rap and hip hop and didn’t somehow squeeze Eminem in. Not that he doesn’t have any bad beats, in fact – each song I listed above, and many more, are very well written and produced. Eminem is a lyrical genius, Dr. Dre is a beast when it comes to music production, and the two work so brilliantly well, that whatever Eminem has to spit – Dre can masterfully weave music around it. Take his songs about hating on his promiscuous exs’ and then a song about murdering people and holding up a convenience store for proof.
I could go on with a lot more songs, and I’m probably missing/forgetting a few. These ten/twelve tracks should be sufficient to keep you going for now, though. Look forward to more lists, reviews, and what nots’ in the future. =]
Censorship in Art was the topic of discussion in my Art 101 (also known as Visual Communications) class, on Wednesday and Friday.
First, let me tell you what I think of the class. A bunch of people that have no clue what they're talking about - with the opportunity to sound like stuck up pretentious yuppies - that can put two and two together, when they look at a painting. Or 'work of art' as my teacher likes to call it.
But similar to other things, I have an issue with that too. First of all, how in God's name do we know that the painter, photographer, or simply 'artist', whose 'work of art' we are shredding to pieces really did pour down his or her emotions/feelings, rather than just splatter paint on the canvas. Really.
Second of all, we're supposed to be learning how to interpret the stuff. Issue a) that I mentioned above comes into play again. Issue b) is, we can get close, but can we really 'interpret' what the 'artist' was trying to portray? Probably not, because half of the 'artists' we talk about are dead.
Anyway. Censorship is retarded. That's what I think about censorship. Why, you ask?
First, if it's political censorship - then that's just it. That's the reason. The truth deserves ... no, it needs to be out there, even if it's not political censorship. And if it is, then yeah, everyone needs to know what's really going on.
Second, if it's censorship due to a racial or religious issue - which it usually is - then seriously. What is censorship going to do?
There is a picture called "Piss Christ," and "Yo Momma's Last Supper" - both of which were censored. But the respective artists still gained notoriety and fame. Do you know why? Probably just because, they were censored, because really - the 'work of art' weren't, actually. Works of art, I mean.
You say to someone; "Did you see that new controversial painting?! No one should ever see it! It's disgusting!"
And the someone you are talking to, first thing they do is - go home and google it.
Do you see what I'm talking about? The only way racism, and other things that offend people, will completely go away - is if people stop making such a fucking deal out of them, and just completely let it go. Try not to get riled up about things. And even if you do, just stop paying attention and move on. That's the only way things that really offend you will go away. And I said that in class, too. To which most people tried to disagree and share their feelings and thoughts. Then I made a come back with logic, and somehow they got what I was saying - and decided to shut up.
Then - there was the other thing that pissed me off.
The pictures "Piss Christ" and "Yo Momma's Last Supper" pissed people off, and they thought that the censorship of those pictures was appropriate. Then they were shown the bombing of this huge Buddha sand statue in Afghanistan. The Taliban in Afghanistan thought it was a part of western culture, that they didn't want in their country anymore and so they blew it up.
And after seeing that in class, people muttered things like, "Oh, that's just stupid," and "why would they do that?"
Because they fucking could, that's why, geniuses.
But here's what's grinding my gears about that. Why was that not ok, if the censorship of 'Piss Christ' was? No matter what the reason for censorship, it's still censorship at the end of the day, right? How can people not get that? If you like to believe and claim that everyone has their rights, then how can you take that away from them by censoring their work? You fucking can't and shouldn't.
But as always, people are too stupid to figure that out. It's sad, but true. And that's why we're all always offended and crying.
It's not much a matter of growing up, as it is just getting a little smarter. Wait, maybe those things are actually just one.
I don't wanna flip when I see you with guys, Too much pride, Between you and I, Not a jealous man, but females lie, But I guess that's just what sluts do, How could it ever be just us two? Never loved you enough to trust you, We just met and I just fucked you. But I do know one thing though, Bitches they come they go, Saturday through Sunday, Monday, Monday through Sunday, yo'.
`Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil! By that Heaven that bends above us - by that God we both adore - Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn, It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels named Lenore - Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels named Lenore?' Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'
Knowing that I held you in the palm of my hands, while you thought it was the other way around?
Or that, I could make your world come crashing down as so. Play God with your life.
I bet it sucks. I heard you cried your eyes out and everything.
But why didn't you expect it? Can't you see that you deserved it?
I'm a man that does what I feel is right, and only God can judge me.
It's just a pity for you, that I have the power to fuck shit up for you - when you want to do what you want to do.
But hey, it was only because I wasn't too happy.
And you wouldn't like me when I'm not happy. I don't turn into a big green monster, but even the Hulk couldn't have fucked as much shit up as I probably have, don't you agree?
Aah, I love myself. And my uncanny ability to be so brilliantly deceptive. So sly, so guile. Change colors, be two-faced, all that. Because sometimes? You just have to be. I bet you agree.
It's just a pity for you, that I'm much better at what you thought you were doing.
But hey. You should've expected it. Because I'm not like everyone else out there. I thought you realized that.
And if you didn't, well, you definitely do now. =]
Hope your valentine's day was wonderful, because mine was spectacular.
I made shit hit the fan. Stirred things a little.
And you know how you kept saying "fuck my life," and I kept asking you not to, because you don't have a reason to? Now you do. You can say fuck my life all you want now, isn't that great?
It's good to be constantly throwing my middle finger up in the air.
I woke up with my head still groggy, and heavy. It took me a while to recollect last night, and not even all of it – just tid bits that I think were important.
I covered up my eyes from the vile sunshine pouring in through the windows, that burnt in my eye, causing adrenalin to be produced when my body clearly didn’t want it. It only gave me more of a headache.
I tried getting out of bed, and spotted my pack of cigarettes – so I lit one. And then sat down to think about last night again.
I faintly remember going around and telling everyone how awesome they are. And also how short life is. And how they shouldn’t be sad, no matter what. Even random strangers I met later, when I stepped outside to smoke. And everyone seemed to agree. It was weird how everyone was so much more nicer.
Tylenol, I hear, helps during times like these. Maybe I’ll give it a shot. –groan- .. I don’t even want to hear the word shot, for another week.
Try not to get depressed by the following, I’m not. I’ve accepted things for what they are, and am just trying to make sense.
I don’t see the point anymore.
In anything.
In living, in relationships, in life as a whole.
I think I’m about ready for it to just end. Sooner than later preferably. Maybe a zombie apocalypse, or just 2012.
I think I’m too tired to go on, I really am. With people, their judgment. With everything. With people being too stupid. With life being too much of a drama for no reason.
With everything.
I really wish it would all just end. Nothingness.
Maybe that’s why I’m so numb. I’m halfway there. Halfway dead already. I’m just waiting for my soul to completely leave my body. Go nowhere, just disappear.
Seriously.
I’m tired of this migraine headache being constantly there, in the corner of my head. Tired of being so pissed off at everyone and everything all the time. Tired of wanting to hurt people. Tired of doing it.
Tired of trying to punish as many people as I can. Tired of wanting to make people suffer.
Tired of suffering. Feeling the pain.
It doesn’t really matter anymore. I’m completely numb, anyway. I don’t feel human emotions or feelings. It’s wonderful, but sad.
You’ve made me hate everything, and everyone in sight. Made me see what people are really like. On the deep down inside. How we want to just use people and end up doing it too, voluntarily – but mostly involuntarily. How mankind is doomed, and how everything you think is real isn’t. How people don’t really care about you – and how you should step over people before they step over you.
How a lot of things we assume exist or want to believe in, really don’t. Like a neverland, and a heaven or hell. Any of those things …
You’ve made me what I am today. The narcissistic, sadistic, egotistic, sexist – cynically depressed agnostic. You’ve played a very large role in creating me. You’re the person that probably could be held accountable for who and what I am today.
You’re the reason I ever really knew depression. Angst. Hate. Pain. Fear. Agony.
And the reason I still know what it feels like. And can still feel it, even though it was so long ago.
And we can burn down all old bridges, to create new ones.
How can you be so stupid? How can you have your eyes shut so tight?
Why can’t you wake up and see the world for what it really is? Why do you have to believe that ignorance is bliss?
Why do you think everything is just as it seems? Why can’t your brain comprehend other possibilities?
Why can’t your thoughts wander? Why are you so afraid of question and standing against the current for a change?
Of breaking away, and developing a school of thought that is different, maybe? And unlike the thought process of the rest of the sheeple?
Why must you indulge in drama and emotions created and developed over time due to our lack of intelligence or knowledge?
There are so many other things to worry about. So much more.
The truth you’ve decided to just nod your head in unison with, your truth, has fallen apart. It’s collapsed in a heap of bullshit that it consisted of, and is scattered all over the floor. Everywhere. Like 12 inches of shit that just fell from the skies, it’s covering everything your eyes can see.
And so you believe it, because you either – ~ Are too afraid to think for yourself/any other way. ~ Are too stupid to think for yourself/any other way.
But it’s ok, really. Congratulations, in fact, because you’re just like everyone else.
With your literal interpretations of Shakespeare, and your false theories and faux wisdom concerning life, art, and everything else.
Worrying about things that do not matter at all. Because you want to worry. Fighting your wars for nothing at all, because you want to have wars.
Take a minute right now. Think about all the things you’ve worried about or wasted brain cells on in the near past. Does any of that matter? Does any of that really matter? Is it something you really want, or is it just an illusion that makes you think that you do?
Your sheep like behavior. The waking up, going to work/school, coming back home, getting good grades, keeping people happy. Do you really want to do it, or are you just being forced to?
Would you rather speak your mind and not do the same shit over and over every day, or be what you are right now?
A cog in the fucking system, just churning and keeping it all up and running.
With your constant need to be surrounded with drama and things going wrong. With your constant will to survive, but not knowing how to. With your constant need to be comforted by flesh and bone, and the need to have a finger to hold while you walk around aimlessly. Little did you know, that finger you’re holding on to is just as lost as you are. Or is leading you down a very dark tunnel, and not for your benefit either.
Sleeping awake, like you are right now. Ignorance is bliss, so you’re glad and you’re happy.
Congratulations world. You are a phony. And you don’t even know it.
Everyone. Each and every one of these people I’m sitting in class with.
Talking about Art. That’s what this class is about. It’s called Vocal Communications, but the professor just told us it’s about “Talking about and understanding art.”
But isn’t art subjective?
There’s a toilet seat, sitting in the Philadelphia Art Museum.
And it’s pretty much a big fuck You to modern art. The artist who came up with the idea is sheer genius.
Such phonies. Making comments on the damn picture.
The artist who drew this isn’t in the fucking room with us. How the fuck do we know what he was trying to portray?
Martyrdom, says the professor. But isn’t the only difference between suicide and martyrdom the press coverage?
All I want to do right now is walk out of this room and walk away.
From all of these phonies, from all these stupid interpretations.
All of this that doesn’t matter. Such a miniscule detail in this world so fucked.
Aeden doesn’t like it.
Aeden is trying, but Aeden can’t be a fake.
Can’t be phony.
All I want to do is be the Catcher in The Rye.
La seule chose que je veux etre, c’est L’attrape Coeur.
That’s all I’d do all day, be the Catcher in The Rye.
To every Holden Caulfield around the world.
And to never being phony.
(RIP J.D. Salinger. January 1, 1919 – January 27, 2010)
I think people have started to wonder where I’ve disappeared off to.
But why wouldn’t I? My tales of melancholy, and depression aren’t entertaining enough anymore. I’ve lost comments and followers faster than I lose other things. And I lose things really fast. Sometimes I think I’m working on losing them. But that’s not the point.
I have nothing else to write about, really. I can’t publish fiction after fiction, just to please the masses. There’s this thin faded line in my life, that separates the fiction from the non-fiction, and sometimes I can’t tell the difference either.
And I can’t just write about being happiness. Not when I see no ultimate point in anything at all. Anything at all. Life, college, socializing, and public relations. Anything…
And it’s not my fault, really. I just don’t care anymore. About anything at all, really. I mean, I’m trying to, I really am … it’s not that I’ve just given up … but I don’t know what else to do.
But here’s how you can help; stop expecting shit. Seriously. From me. I’m as far from perfect as the sky is from the ground. I can’t please and entertain all the time. I know my life could be chronicled as a trilogy of books that would outsell Twilight, but seriously.
Something crazy must always happen. Shit must always hit the fan. Well, I’ve done that for a very long time, and I want to keep on the low for just a little while. It’s not that things have slowed down – it’s just that I’m not writing about it anymore. Because apparently it’s getting too dull. Not for me though, I still have my hands full.
It’s also that I can’t write about everything on the internet. Just won’t be a good idea. For me, of course. All of you would just love all of it. I’m pretty sure. Because it’s nothing short of a soap opera, my life, really.
But as the world turns I learned life is hell Living in the world no different from a cell
Though I don't know why I chose to smoke sess I guess that's the time when I'm not depressed But I'm still depressed, and I ask “what's it worth?” Ready to give up so I seek the Old Earth Who explained working hard may help you maintain to learn to overcome the heartaches and pain…
But it just doesn’t work that way. I wish it did, but as I said earlier – the knowing is driving me insane. and I don’t have the advantage of stupidity.
But I guess you don’t want to read about that anymore, because I’ve already said it so many times – over and over. And over.
So, just wait for a miracle to take place, then. Maybe I’ll witness enlightenment and find joy in life or something. Yeah. Then I can write about rainbows and sunlight and other happy things.
All the fake faces. Acquaintances. Friends. And with nothing to show or feel comfortable next to at the end of the day. Except the cold hard exterior of myself, with an internal void so deep ... a thought process so shallow ...
At the end of the day, with nothing or no one to turn to.
I must do this to myself. There is no other explanation.
And then I get labeled lucky. Do you see why I have a problem with that term? Luck?
The grass is always greener on the other side to you fucking sheeple. Always.
You are forced to label things, it's just how our petty minds work. Right? To make things convenient for ourselves, it's just another step we have to take. Absolutely have to.
Does it ever really occur to you, why things are how they are?
Do you ever try thinking about it? Or thinking at all, for that matter?
About what or how other people feel, maybe. What goes on in their mind?
Maybe, if you weren't so fucking busy crying over your own story.
Well, guess what. Everyone's got a story to tell, and I'm tired of lending my ears and shoulders.
Think of the mistakes of others as your own for a change, and you'll realize how fucking terrible you all really are.
As far as I'm concerned - you can go fuck yourself.
And THEN I'll be lucky. When I really, REALLY, have just myself to worry about.
"My name is Aiden. That’s all the personal information I’m going to share. Even if the rest of my story seems even more personal then my name, you won’t know for certain who I am. Or how my mind works. You can try, though. I know I have, it just never seems to work. Figure myself out, I mean. I can’t do it. Maybe you can.
Let me tell you a bit more about myself. Make things just a little more easier for you.
I realized at a very young age, how stupid everyone can be. And even though I realize stupidity and intelligence are subjective to judge or classify people by, I still hold the deep thought, that everyone could’ve been smarter. Maybe it’s just the fact, that everyone has their eyes so tightly closed. That they can’t see things for what or how they really are.
I’m void of most human emotions. I don’t necessarily feel sorry for people. Don’t most of the time, in fact. I try to, but it never seems to work. I’m narcissistic. I love myself. I have a huge ego. I don’t care much about what other people think, or about other people at all, really. I don’t care about much, in general, in fact.
I don’t think there are innocent people. I don’t think there are guilty people. I just think there are people that do things people like, and then things people don’t like. And if you’re caught with the bad end of the stick, then it probably is your fault somehow. If you really have to blame someone, I believe it should be divided equally at the middle, for everyone.
I don’t think I have it in me to love people. Or fall in love. I don’t generally believe in the whole idea or concept, really. I believe people are stupid for believing the text book definition of love. It’s things like shakespeare plays which make fools out of us.
I truly believe that the only thing that really makes me happy, is a lot of money. And spending a lot of money. Not just on myself, though. Just in general. Spending money on other people makes me happy too. Not as much as spending it on myself does, but you get the idea, right? I’m not very stingy with money. I don’t mind passing it along, if I have enough to keep myself happy.
But sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever have enough to keep me happy. See, human beings don’t like being happy it seems. I solely believe that too. I believe we want wars, and to be depressed and sad. It makes much more sense.
I see people’s weaknesses clearly as soon as I meet them. I can read people inside out. Know how they feel about things. Deduce their habits, their way of thinking. Figure out what I can do to offend them. Figure out what I can do to be on their best side. Figure out what I can do, to manipulate them. It’s very easy, really. Minutes after meeting you, I’ll know exactly what it is you’re looking for in the world. And then I can pretend to give it to you … so you can give me what I want.
I believe no matter how much a person has, there is always something missing. And you give someone that, and you’re basically holding them in the palm of your hand. No matter who the person is. Everyone wants something.
But the problem is , I don’t know what I want. I’ve tried figuring it out. But I really can’t tell. Because I don’t think it’s ever possible for anyone to be completely happy or content. So maybe I’ve given up on trying.
All I know is.. I’ve consumed a lot of pain and suffering for things that were both my fault, and weren’t my fault. And now I feel it ok to pass it on. Share the hurt. Inflict the pain so you can see it too.
For what doesn’t kill us, makes us stronger.
And I think you should appreciate me trying to make you stronger."
I asked my mom where all my old books were, and she told me. So I decided to go take a look after all this while … after too long, really …
All my books from my childhood … most of them belonged to my dad. And most of them, probably too inappropriate for a child to be reading. But them being the only books I could get my hands on at that age, I didn’t let that stop me.
All the books I furiously went through during my growing up … as if I was looking for something specific, but keeping everything I was coming across with me, just in case. And it’s all stuck, even if you can’t see it. But it’s all I consist of.
Books whose pages will fall apart in a few more years. But I really hope they don’t. They smell like … they smell like years and years of knowledge. Information. Tales of human suffering, love, triumph, revenge, happiness … and my childhood, of course. All of it.
The pages have turned several shades of brown, and the dust sticks to your fingertips. I sat there, smiling. And I don’t know why I was smiling, but I was. I just sat there staring at them for a while. Then running my fingers through all of them … and as many pages as I could. And then flipping through the pages, and sniffing the insides. –sigh-
I remember reading this detective novel about a murder. The Screaming Virgin, it was called, I think. Because it started with a naked female standing on a rooftop, screaming. I think I was 13 or 14 when I read it. Yeah.
All my old encyclopedias. Colorful books, with drawings I did inside. Ruined them, pretty much. But read them while ruining them, so it kinda worked out. Cooking books I used to stare inside as a child. I used to stare into any book you hand me. For hours and hours. Because they were the only things I really owned when I was little.
I would lay on the floor and stare inside a book, every other day. Sometimes the same one, over and over again.
Now my mind is occupied with things that don’t matter as much. A part of growing up to nothingness I guess. We all do it, don’t we?
I’m diagnosed with ADHD by the way. Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder. In case you don’t already know. You probably do.
Add that to the list.
I’m going to go insane, I can see it now. I just hope it takes some time.
I have started tumbling. I guess, that’s what it should be called? Here’s my Tumblr.
Sitting down with all my old books in my hands, I felt like the Danish I seem to have lost somewhere down the road.
You know, the optimist that thought the world was a happy place. Where you should be all right as long as you treat everyone all right.
Yeah, the Danish who had his eyes closed just like all the sheeple of the world. Like what I did there? I’m going to do it more often, just a heads up. Sheep, People, Sheeple.
Life was comfortable, with my eyes closed. I didn’t fear going insane. I didn’t have this burden in my hand. I didn’t have much to think about.
The knowing is driving me insane. Holding me down, being my burden. Making me lose sleep, all the thinking.
I saw American Psycho a few hours ago. Patrick Bateman reminded me of myself so much. You should see the movie, if you haven’t already.
I’m deviating. Going to blame it on ADHD. And, uh, have nothing else to say, really. I wanted to blog so bad but I just couldn’t get myself to. Then it just happened. This just happened. I’m glad.
I’m glad you’re reading this, too. Thank you. You’re pretty much one of the reason I do all this. The other reason is me, myself. For the sake of sanity. Or maintaining whatever I have left of it.
