7th grade...earlyer today I was talking to someone who I have developed an amazeing amount of respect for, and she mentioned something about 7th grade. As soon as she said that the thought that echoed though my head is oh my god I've lived that long and yes that much has changed. It's increadble when you sit there and look back at it and wonder how did I manage to get through it all. Back in 7th grade I was right smack dab in the protechtive womb of middle skool. It was a day where we still kicked each other to say hello, where first awkward kisses have yet to be exchanged. My freinds and I were the closest we had ever been and life was beautiful. Depression was just a word that had no real meaning to me, people were still nice and the future rosey. We had all made plans for what we were going to be doing in high skool...I had no idea what was in store for me. Within one short year my life had been uprooted and torn asunder, depression became an emotion and not just an abstract word, all my freinds who I planned on spending my life through hight skool with were lost and I ended up in florida. I spent a year in a listless slothfullness then I met Jackie, and soon after the monstrocity that is this web page has been born. I just realized that a lot has changed, and that things weren't always this way. They used to be diffrent, wether I'm a better person bercause of all of it is something that remains to be seen. However I realize now that better or worse is irrelevent I'm just diffrent now...and thouse days of 7th grade were so long ago. Awhile ago I decided to cut back on preaching but this is important, never forger where you where, who you where, and the people you were with. The past is the past and there is nothing you can do about it. But for heaven's sakes don't forget it, don't over analize it, just remeber it. So one day if you wake up with a tear in your eye wondering how the hell did I get here you can remeber.

Recently I was thinking about the movie HATE. If you haven't seen hate yet go see it. It's in the forgein section of your local blockbuster. Now I know it's a french film but I promiss that there are no midgets with dunce caps rideing uncycles. Anyway...ahem, cops. They are suppost to serve a purpose I know this now. They are suppost to protecht us, keep us safe from thouse who want to hurt me, and to make sure that order is up held. So why is it that I feel thretened by them. Why is it I feel like that every time a cop passes me I feel like I'm going to be stoped and harrassed. Why is it that I feel safer when there isn't a cop around for miles? I don't know either...I guess somewher along the line something happend. I think it's because americans are for the most part kept in the dark as to what exactly is our rights when were are dealing with cops. We as a people are unsure as to what we can be arrested for and things like that. I dunno it's a perplexing problem and my head hurts far to much.

I have this class in collage called student life skills. NO it's not how to put the tap on the keg that was 6th grade sex ed. No this class is how to study how to deal with people who are new and diffrent than you are et cetera. In essence it is a bull shit class. No midterm no final real grade however which is why it wasn't dropped in the first week. Anyhow our teacher means well enough but she gave us this little project to do and one of the questions was how are you diffrent from other people. When I read that I was baffled I had no idea where to start or how to begin, what to say. I mean where do I start? The urge to just print out the entire rant page was strong but...spelling and grammar counts so that wouldn't work. So I sicked up "wrote is to poetic of a word" the following and handed it to her.

You know it’s funny as I sit here wondering how I am suppose to start of this little part of my diversity project a flood of memories start to flow thorough my mind. Images and words come to me like disjointed ghosts in the night and then like a brilliant flash I realized why all these memories were flashing, because I am just different. You know I hate to sound pretensions about myself or anything like that but I have yet to meet any people that have reminded me of myself. This is funny because I know they exist, I hear about them all the time from my friends and such. However I have yet to meet any of them. I think if to many people just like me got into one room the universe would cave in or something silly or odd like that. No there is just something about me that makes me not like those other people. However just what exactly it is that makes me so different is an elusive answer to a question that has been plaguing my like a horde of gnats for quite some time now.

My difference from other people starts with my physical body, I’m left handed, abnormally tall, and a birth defect has left me without a knuckle in my left big toe. Spooky yes? But mostly I wanted to not focus on those things, instead I wanted to focus on my self-perception. My self-perception is, well it almost doesn’t exist. There was a period of time in my life where I complimented someone on the shirt they were wearing, only to realize latter that I was looking at my self in a mirror. In truth I have no idea about how I look, I don’t know if I’m appealing to other people or repulsive. If for some reason I had the urge to dress up and look nice I would have no idea as to how I would go about doing it. I have no real concept of my physical self. I feel that, that in of it self is rather odd. What’s odder though is the way I chose to handle the problem. I just stopped caring. This of course was a very gradual and slow process that proceeded to get worse and worse with time but it has gotten to the point where I couldn’t care less about how I look because, well in the long run it doesn’t matter. I’m gonna end up old and dead anyway.

Another different thing about me is that I have this bizarre affinity towards being alone. This was pointed out to me by a friend of mine named Luke. Luke’s comment was that while most people feel it is good to be alone in small portions of time I feel it is only good to be around people in small little portions of time. To me my alone time is extremely valuable and not to be trifled with. Coming to collage has taught me many new and interesting things about my self. First of all I do not like parties, rooms full of people I don’t know gives me the willies. Next I don’t like to go out, and do things. The exact reason as to why this is has escaped me but as I sit there in a club, or even while I am dancing with someone I get this nagging feeling in the back of my skull that I would be enjoying myself more if that person and I were sitting at a table somewhere talking pleasantly over a nice warm cup of coffee. Or whatever people drink. The need to go out and dance seems odd and strange to me and I don’t enjoy it. Hmm I restricted that last sentence quite a bit let me amend it the need to go out and do STUFF seems odd and strange to me. Going to the fair, the bookstore, the mall, the movies, shopping, all these traditional teenage activities are in of themselves unenjoyable to me. To me the only real fun comes in when we all sit down and talk. I like to sit and talk I find it far more enjoyable than all those other things I’ve listed. I mean now that I look back on it all my fondest memories were of me and my friend’s just sitting around a shady tree after school and talking. This would explain why all my friends smoke because they seem to be the only people that have the time to sit and talk anymore. I also don’t like to dance. The entire social institution of dancing isn’t very much fun to me. After reading all of this I seems like I’m a horribly boring person doesn’t it? Well you know what? I don’t care so there.

I feel like doing another paragraph about how I’m different this is fun. Another thing that is highly unusual about me is my general cheerful peppy character. Oh god I just used the word peppy, what’s even worse is that I can’t think of a better word to replace it with. No matter moving on. I dress in all black pretty much all the time, and with those bloody collars around my neck I look like someone who would be more prone to be a mopey depressed person than the overly cheerful one I can be at times. The truth of the matter is that I am clinically depressed, at least according to a couple of people I’ve talked to over the course of my life. But the way I choose to handle it is to simply to ignore the fact that I am depressed. If I’m not depressed then I am by default happy and this thought process is responsible for the me that most of you know. The fact that I am aware of this denial and not permanently effected by that knowledge is testament to my ability to deny whatever I choose.

Well now after writing almost one full page about how I’m different from everybody I will provide one paragraph as to how I’m just like everyone else. Well let’s see here I am capable of making rational thoughts and choices for myself. There are times where I get terribly lonely like I’m sure other people get at times. As a member of the male gender I am capable of stupendous acts of stupidity and insensitivity. I hold a lot of things back from people as I don’t like it when one person knows too much about me. I can feel compassion and those other fiddley little emotions. I have a fear of rejection, and a great amount of love for people. I don’t know there is so much I have yet to learn about myself that I haven’t bothered to look at other people to see what they do.

My RA put it best when she said that I seem like an easy person to get along with. In truth I am in all my memories there have only been two people that have just not liked me, for one reason or another. Still for the most part I have met talked to and enjoyed the presence of such an incredibly varied number of people that I find it easier and easier to accept new ideas and beliefs and pass them off as normal. That is the trick to accepting new beliefs. Expose yourself to as many different types of people as possible, and don’t think you are better than any of them. This little strategy that I employ works suprieseingly well all things considered. Another handy little tip is to subscribe to the belief that that anyone at any time may say something earth shatteringly important, something so important that it could alter your life forever. Because this can happen at any moment from any person it’s best to listen up to everyone just in case. After all people have smart things to say occasionally. The only type of person that I actually had to wedge into this idea worldview are racists and bigots. It was then I remembered that some people are put on this earth as examples as to how not to talk and act. These people have very little constructive things to add to the world. Also I don’t think that my mere presence will effect the way they think or act any time soon.

You know an off hand comment I made during the introduction of my last rant reminded me of something. When I came here to collage I learned something interesting about myself. Okay well no I learned several dozen interesting things about myself but...umm damn where did my train of thought run to? Anyway I learned that I insult myself a lot. I say increadably mentaly scarring and hurtful things to myself, about myself in such a regular stream that many people are bothered by it. I wonder why, it's such an odd thing to be bothered by, I mean no one should be able to insult other people unless they are capable of turning that finely tuned wit upon them selves and tear themselves apart with the same vigor as we do each other.

Ahh doom, who dosn't remeber wandering around aimlessly in some sort of nightmareish world shooting at imps, flameing skulls, and pink bull dog looking things. That was a great game on every level and while there has been great leaps in the industry nothing quite captures that old wonderful feeling you got while playing doom. Recently I decided to relive some of these old memories in front of the old computer and while I was playing it this girl walked in because she needed something or the other. At any rate she looked over at the game I was playing and started telling me about she used to love doom because it was always an adventure. You never quite knew what was going to be lurking around every corrner and the whole exploring the maze thing was alot of fun. As I was being chewed apart by a pink thing I realized that I had never really thought of doom like that and it was kinda cute...so I put it here.

Recently I have been playing lots of diffrent arcade games because...well because I can. My computer can be very magical some times. Anyway I realized something while I was playing one of them, that this game was a lot of fun. It wasn't paticularly difficult on any deep level, it didn't really require hand eye coordination nor any intelegence of any sort. Still it was a hell of a lot of fun. Thi is when I realized that a lot of arcade games are a lot more fun that some of the other games that you can find for the computer or ever en consol systems. THis is because arcade games have no grand illusion of you sitting there for 40 hours trying to beat it, they know they can't be to long or else you'll get discusted and stop spending money, the same goes for the difficulty level. Most arcade games are just quick and dirty slug fests that are a great deal of fun in thier own right. Then twords the end they get stupid and rediculously hard, but by that time you've had your fun and life is alright. Game desighn at it's finest says I.

Ahem. You know I was thinking about nuclear holcaust the other day...it would really suck. On that note I have learned something very new and special about myself. I can not function properly when I don't get enough sleep each and every night. Some people can remain reasonably cohernent on 2 hours of sleep in three days. However were I to atempt to pull this little trick I'd be a wandering raveing maniac...any atepmts at typeing a paper would just result in me typeing oh god the squirrles are eating my toes, oh god the squirrles are eating my toes, oh god the squiirles are eating my toes, conneticuit sure is spelled oddly, oh god the squirrles are eating my toes. Yeah that's enough of that you sorta get the idea. If you don't turn your head to the side and squint untill it all becomes clear. Authors note this may take a couple of days. I feel like moveing on now.

We have only one squirrle here on campus. His name is chip, he's a robot squirrle, so don't piss him off or else he'll whip out a flame thrower and burn your ass.

A few weeks ago I decided that since I only have that half eaten green shirt in the way of clean cloths that it would be laundry day. Doing laundry in collage is like...dropping dictionarys on your foot. At some point after you drop the dictionary but before it hits your foot you realize that there are other far better ways you could be haveing fun at the moment. I mean no one likes to do the wash because the wash sucks, you got to load all your cloths in and wait around for an hour so you can dry them. If you are paranoid you end up sitting in the wash room watching the washer clean your cloths. Anyway on this day I decided to do my wash so I loaded up my cloths and like a logical person I wandered off. I forgot exactly what it was that I went off to do but it was three hours of hanging out with someone. Anyway when I got back I saw a group of my freinds in the smokeing area, as I stepped outside it was imeadiatly demanded of me that I go to the beach. I looked down at my black t-shirt, dockers, and boot ensamble I had put together for myself and shrugged. Sorry no bathing suit, all the shorts are in the wet and...yeah. Well that answer wasn't good enough, so I ended up wandering into the wash room loading my cloths into the dryer, and picking out a pair of still wet shorts to wear to the beach. Other than them being all sorts of cold and wet it was good. So I went to the beach leaving my cloths to dry. Everyone there felt the need to comment that I went to the beach in my boots but you know it seemed like a perfectly normal thing for me to do so why worry. We then went out to eat, hours latter I finnaly returned to my dry cloths... oddly enough no one molseted them. Which was rather nice because I was almost worryied about them for a second. Well I'ma gonna go eat...tata.

Who was the person that decided that pigs go oink. They were obviously hard of hearing because I mean after all pigs don't go oink, they never have. I mean I have heard a cow go moo, a horse whiiny, and a sheep baah. Pigs though...they don't oink what the hell is wrong with people? I'm not sure, my head hurts. Stupid pigs.

You know I write. I write quite a bit, far more so than most average people. I have no real problem with that. I don't paticularly have troubles with writting things in skool, or on this web page. I do however have problems titleing things. I can never seem to think of what to call essays, stories, poems, movies, or anything else I write. IUn fact the only thing that I can seem to title without any problem at all are these bloody rants. Funny that innut? On this same subject lets talk about the titleing of movies. I have a group of freinds that I love to watch movies with because they aren't annoying except for this one little habit. They always seem to bitch and moan whenever a movie justifys it's title. They will point it out laugh make silly comments and basicly not shut up untill something is thrown at them. So we finnaly saw a movie that has absolutley nothing to with it's title...so they spent hours bitching about that. In short titles are stupid and unimportant so stop paying atension to them.

You know that's the opening line to a song by the cure. It's actually quite a happy and up beat song all the way though which is histerical considering that they are one of the most legendary goth bands of all time. Heh just one more oddity of the goth scene really, if anything is a sighn of the times it's the entire goth scenes. A scene that is nothing more than a swirrleing maelstorm of mysery, melowdrama, and mind boggleing bad poetry. RTecently I was searching the net for something or another and I found a goth page, the thing that struck me about it was the fact that there was a how to be a goth section. This bothered me, upon further delveings into the subject I found numerouse pages that were devoted to teaching the reader as to how to be gothic. These ranged from requied reading lists to practising spooky hand motions in the mirror. Dose anyone else find something wrong with this? You don't see web pages as to how to be a freak, a punk, a preppy or any number of other silly social groups that seem to excist today. The number of how to be goth pages though bothers me tremendously, it is the only place where the people are so utterly stuck up that you need to read and memorize a hand book in order to join it. The whole thing makes me mad, if you need to read a hand book in order to fit in then you do not belong. Sorry but that's just the way things go. Of course the readership of this web page either already knows this or dosn't care but hey it's my webpage and I'll do what I damn well please.