Why is there so much noise in this world? Honestly, it's everywhere. And it's little things too. The really tiny things that get to me.
People Breathing. People writing. The scratch of pens, the squeak of chairs,the turning of pages. The zipping of bags, sniffling, coughing. I feel like I'm being drowned in noise. All I can say is thank God for MP3 players and Ipods. Without mine, I'm pretty sure I'd have smashed someone round the head by now.
I'm not exagerrating. Really. It's fucking everywhere. Noise, ceaseless noise. An endless blur of talking, screaming, whispering, sweating, sneezing, breathing. Sometime really disturbing sounds, like people crying, they get through.
And people wonder why I'm always listening to music.
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
Are we advancing at all?
We get closer and closer to discovering a cure for a disease, only to cancel it out by creating a new gun. People claim that the human race is advancing faster and faster, exponentionally. I beg to differ.
Our advances are limited only to our technology. We don't get any closer to solving real problems like inequality, racism, sectarianism, murder, suicide and so on. Deep down inside our combined consciousness we still cling to the violent nature that was once upon a time necessary. Necessary for survival. But now that very nature is what will destroy us. Who can honestly say that we have advanced, when we still have huge numbers of Nuclear weapons. People still march to war. People still kill each other.
We truly are a disgusting animal. I will admit, I am human, but at least I try to hide that fact. Not everyone is cruel, or sick. Several of my friends are going to help build schools in Africa, we've raised thousands for various charities. And there are others like us all over the world.
The problem is, we still kill each other. We're far more primitive than we care to admit.
Time to wake up.
Our advances are limited only to our technology. We don't get any closer to solving real problems like inequality, racism, sectarianism, murder, suicide and so on. Deep down inside our combined consciousness we still cling to the violent nature that was once upon a time necessary. Necessary for survival. But now that very nature is what will destroy us. Who can honestly say that we have advanced, when we still have huge numbers of Nuclear weapons. People still march to war. People still kill each other.
We truly are a disgusting animal. I will admit, I am human, but at least I try to hide that fact. Not everyone is cruel, or sick. Several of my friends are going to help build schools in Africa, we've raised thousands for various charities. And there are others like us all over the world.
The problem is, we still kill each other. We're far more primitive than we care to admit.
Time to wake up.
Monday, February 25, 2008
The Futility of labelling people.
Honestly, why the hell do we do it? We give people labels such as Goth, Emo, Hippy etc.. but why?
Personally I don't give a fuck if anyone labels me Emo or Goth or Rivethead or whatever, because I know they're wrong. They probably come closest with Industrial, because I like that style, but I don't wear the clothes. What I do have a problem with is people using labels as a form of insult. I have a very good friend who people call Emo. I see no problem if he is or isn't and I don't try to fit him into a category. But nearly everyone else uses 'Emo' as an insult, which I disagree with.
People are entirely free to live as they want, wear what they want and act how they like. So what if you don't like it? That's not their fucking problem. That's why I get pissed when people label me, because they try to isolate me, to fit me into a denomination and then apply the steretypes of that denomination to me. I do not consider suicide and option. I do not write poetry. I do not wear trenchoats (though I do think they look kinda neat). So fuck you. You call me Goth? I call you asshole. For me, there's only two types of people in this world. Assholes and Humans. Unfortunately, the Assholes seem to far outnumber the Humans.
So go ahead. Laugh at me for how I look. Condemn my musical taste. I say, fuck you.
Personally I don't give a fuck if anyone labels me Emo or Goth or Rivethead or whatever, because I know they're wrong. They probably come closest with Industrial, because I like that style, but I don't wear the clothes. What I do have a problem with is people using labels as a form of insult. I have a very good friend who people call Emo. I see no problem if he is or isn't and I don't try to fit him into a category. But nearly everyone else uses 'Emo' as an insult, which I disagree with.
People are entirely free to live as they want, wear what they want and act how they like. So what if you don't like it? That's not their fucking problem. That's why I get pissed when people label me, because they try to isolate me, to fit me into a denomination and then apply the steretypes of that denomination to me. I do not consider suicide and option. I do not write poetry. I do not wear trenchoats (though I do think they look kinda neat). So fuck you. You call me Goth? I call you asshole. For me, there's only two types of people in this world. Assholes and Humans. Unfortunately, the Assholes seem to far outnumber the Humans.
So go ahead. Laugh at me for how I look. Condemn my musical taste. I say, fuck you.
Here it begins...
Well, here's where it'll all begin. The writing of my head thoughts.
How'd this come about? I don't know really. I've been writing things in a sort of journal for about a year and a half now and, reading back over them, I've seen an emerging pattern. I can't put a name on it, but it's there. I had no idea whether what I was doing was normal or not, but I felt a need to do it. To write. It felt like it kept me sane, you know? But now it's not enough. My headaches have been getting worse, and I need to let people know, let them make the decision. Give a name to my madness I suppose. You know that whole fucked up situation of people never being able to properly diagnose themselves.
That's the fuck of it. The madman thinking he's the only sane one the world. Of course, I'm pretty sure I'm sane. I'm not locked up in a padded room or anything, I don't hear voices or see things. Well, I'll let the wonderful interweb people decide for me. I really couldn't be bothered going to see a doctor or talking to my friends really. To much damn hassle, I'm not made for sociability.
So, let this begin. I'll try and update this at least as often as I write in my journal, and try and make the writings be the same as the typings. All in the desire to answer the question:
Am I broken?
How'd this come about? I don't know really. I've been writing things in a sort of journal for about a year and a half now and, reading back over them, I've seen an emerging pattern. I can't put a name on it, but it's there. I had no idea whether what I was doing was normal or not, but I felt a need to do it. To write. It felt like it kept me sane, you know? But now it's not enough. My headaches have been getting worse, and I need to let people know, let them make the decision. Give a name to my madness I suppose. You know that whole fucked up situation of people never being able to properly diagnose themselves.
That's the fuck of it. The madman thinking he's the only sane one the world. Of course, I'm pretty sure I'm sane. I'm not locked up in a padded room or anything, I don't hear voices or see things. Well, I'll let the wonderful interweb people decide for me. I really couldn't be bothered going to see a doctor or talking to my friends really. To much damn hassle, I'm not made for sociability.
So, let this begin. I'll try and update this at least as often as I write in my journal, and try and make the writings be the same as the typings. All in the desire to answer the question:
Am I broken?
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