New Hobby: Edit All Your Past Written Work

Back in the day (I'm not that old, really), I began an experiment for myself; I thought, "I love reading, I love writing, I have interesting ideas floating about, I should start a blog!" This experiment what have you, was, and still is, for me, not you (deal with it). But I'm willing to share (you're smiling now aren't you). Writing, in my own words, provides a meditative zone where I can just unleash every spoon of thought I have unto a virtual machine soup of 1's and 0's (I don't like to waste paper). It makes me happy (and now I'm smiling) to say the least. And what would make me happier is to make you happy, whoever and wherever you are. 

To get to what we're all here for, I have made it hobby (and you should too) to edit past written work. That includes: poems, short stories, scribbles, big stories, journal entries, washroom stall graffiti (I kid, I kid), etc.

I cant help but become a grammar Nazi looking at my old posts on Blogger. Horrible! (Loud shriek.) Believe me when I say this, I love and respect the English language, but it is so damn confusing. Now I'm not going to get into a huge argument about it (with myself?) because everybody knows its true (case closed). But I think it's a good habit to fix old errors, you never know if 100 years from now, your great, great, greatest grandchild will pick up one of your old writings and wonder what the heck your saying. Well, that and to become a better writer, simply put. If you don't want to read your own writing, who do you think else would? (You can pay someone sure but, actually, no buts..)

This is just a mere suggestion from one scribe to another. And it's probably the only 'good' suggestion I have. So, take it while it hot!

P.S. - I will update my blog appearance when I have the time. Right now it looks like pre-Google internet years.

P.P.S - I am also thinking of adding fancy images and photos la dee da.

1984

My god! Is this what really George Orwell believed society would regress to! He's a madman; complete lunacy on his part! But I kid, I kid. I enjoyed reading the novel, it was would I thought small social groups in closed environments could possibly be like. For example, a factory setting; you have your supervisor who is below a head supervisor who is below a manager who is also below the head manager who oversees all withthin his confines. You the worker, must listen and accept all commands given to you whether you agree with them or not. There is conscious will in your decision dont get me wrong, but to act upon your first conscious decision is a refute to the system of authority over you. My fellow men and women I implore you to stand up for what you believe in no matter how outnumbered you are. One can mean many in a demonstration, and many can mean more than one! Great Gatsby! We can't let such a social norm BE a norm. To be normal is to be, them. And being them is to be, not you. Liking what they like, hating what they hate. Sounds exhausting! It should, and you shouldn't be. You should be happy to put it simply. And when your happy you're never tired!

How Do You Know If You Are Interesting?

Everytime I meet someone new, I quickly think of a list of the most interesting things to say I've done. That list is quite small. I mean, I've only done a handful of what I think are exciting escapades, like my vacations to Cuba and Mexico. Other things that I thought were interesting was snowboarding (everybody's snowboarded or ski'd at least once nowadays) and playing an instrument (a ukulele, currently still bad at it). But if I met someone who told me what I just told you now, i'd be like "Hey, that's awesome! Did you do any excursions on your trip? What songs do you know how go play?".

Maybe I am just sincerely interested in other peoples well, interest. When I have a really fond memory of something, I'll tell somebody it passionately as if i'm reliving that moment. I think that's why I get a positive response when I say it so therefore making me seem more interesting. To put it in reverse, I could say "Hey man what's up?", and get a cliche response, or I could say instead, "Hey! What's going on?! Have I met you before?!" Maybe that's a bit too much, but you get my point. 

I learned that sometimes it's how you tell a story or how you introduce yourself that makes you a more charismatic/engaging/bowl of delight (jello, like jello). If that fails, you can just keep talking and hopefully something you say ignites any kind of spark of interest in the unfortunate chap (or chapess, unfortunate chapess sounds right). Just take this advice or lack of advice, as a reminder to just be yourself. Yes, perfect ending. 

"I Think Therefore I Am."

When I was a child, my mother would tell me "You are a lizard! Look at your dry skin!" Since I can remember, I always had really dry skin (I know, lotion exists but it still didn't work). It was more believable with the addition of my constantly cold hands and feet; and I guess I tried to adhere myself to surrounding walls. From that point forward I always believed to be of different genealogy from you regular folk. I thought and acted differently, and I didn't know why. My lizard ancestry could not be traced according to my human mother and father. So I began to seek elsewhere. I thought, I must be from high above than, another planet (cool), sent here to do god knows what (using god as a figure of speech so don't hurt me people). Till this day, I still believe to be from another planet. I must be, I can't mold myself into what I think I should be in order to comply with social standards. But that's okay, I learned to live with my reptilian dysfunctionality (or exclusiveness. That sounds much better, feel free to utilize that in every conversation you have). But one thing still bothers me; if I think I know who I am and what I am and so forth, what does that mean? Do I really know me? If I don't know me than who is it that can tell me who I am? I don't believe that other people can know you better than yourself. But you cannot know thyself better unless you hear judgement from others (contradicting is no fun task). Maybe our journeys from beginning to end are our discoveries of not only the world but our place in the world and beyond our grain of sand into the giant nebulae of beaches (using metaphors for the universe feels so delightful).

So before I wander off into a lucid dream (I'm at REM sleep as I type), I'll leave you with a more famous quote than the title of this post.

"I am what I am and that's all I am" - Popeye

The Perfect Tattoo.

I must get a tattoo no matter what the cost! And they can get pretty expensive, well, the good ones at least. But no matter, I shall hand draw an amazing piece of stencil with an amalgam of animals and complex shapes, no one has ever laid witness to before! Oh wait, my drawing ability lacks the coordination of Bob Ross's 2-inch brush, a favourable item in the inking world! I have no experience with tattoos so please exclude the earlier statements. Anyways, what I am trying to say is that I can never be content with a tattoo if I ever chose to get one (which I plan too). I mean, I am such a perfectionist, especially when it involves me permanently inking my fair skin forever. That's a huge commitment! (Besides marriage.) I don't know how people with full sleeves and scattered tats (cooler way of saying tattoo, according to me) around their bodies are able to do that. I've looked around the internet and found many, I mean zillions of poorly drawn amoebas almost comparable to a Rorschach inkblot. Doesn't look cool and I'm sure there is no particular meaning to most of them (a naked female devil on the lap of a naked female angel kissing and groping has no meaning, well an imagination can supply entertainment from it but, no meaning).

I want a tat (just rolls off the tip of the tongue) that has a wise subjective meaning and when somebody looks at it they'll understand or even just nod and walk away. Maybe it's better that they don't understand, it could be used just as a personal reminder of some happy moment in time; a person, a place or a thing.

I guess everybody has a reason to get one (an impulse of nerves trigger a "get random tattoo" idea, this must be the case for most) and they have their own interpretation of the meaning behind it.

I want mine to be specifically mine and nobody else's. It could be why we see so many different ones, good and bad, because they belong to them, it's a piece of their own imagination, manifested on the backs of their necks or the blades of their shoulders (and every other dark corridor of the human body). No tattoo (tat doesn't sound right in this sentence) is the same. It's like a fresh snowflake or the leaves of a tree. One day i'll get inked, and it will be the perfect tattoo, for me anyways.

Philosophical Insight To Help You Sleep

I already I know that lack of sleep is a clichè topic, but it is really worth talking about again, and again, and again . . . Whoa! Almost fell asleep there. When someone has a problem, they vent it out to an innocent bystanders who takes out of their own time to listen. And after, that person will feel better almost as if a couple of chips of a huge invisible boulder of problems you've been carrying all your life has been chiseled out. Therefore (no this is not the end, it just sounds so smart) to say that, if I talk about my sleeping problem it should hypothetically help me in turn, sleep. I mean, I should sleep better the more people I tell about it. Or is that the wrong idea of the whole notion of venting should make you feel better. I could talk my brains out about all my problems, but it doesn't necassarily make any of them better than they were before. My actions is what create change. After all, actions speak louder than words. If I wan't to tackle this sleeping problem I inherited (my parents watch Netflix all night long), I should probably take a course of action, a call to arms, a coup d'etat! (As in, I will take over the monarchy that is my sleep deprivation and replace it with a non-sleep deprived government.)

First, no phones within arms reach of the bed interior soft blanket area. (So soft.) There are too many times where I will wake up spastically from slumber and check what time I was rudely interupted from a momentous dream. And what do you know, I grab my phone conveniently hiding under my pillow within arms reach. The glowing screen shines so bright, my brain automatically triggers fight or flight response and i'm more immediately awake, ready to defend my tribe. It probably doesn't help me that im typing this spiel about encouraging sleep and disregarding bad habits when it is really late over here (or really early depending if your optomistic or pessimestic). I literally had this involuntary spasm, woke up from my slumber, blindly reached for my phone, went on Stumbler for an hour, than decided to update my dusty, neglected blog. 

But hey! Before you mark me as hypocrite, I will show you the determination of the human spirit in all its magnitude! 

Good night! Or morning...

Jogging From Basic To Glory!

Let me start by saying I'm terrible at running. I tell people why and use the typical excuse of having weak, frail, skinny ankles. But I run because it's good for you, I mean everyone. It decreases a multitude of diseases and health problems. So why wouldn't I be running? Because I reiterate, I'm terrible at running! My lungs ache after 5 minutes of steady jogging. I become discouraged during a break to catch my breath. But like every hobby, I should become better after practice. Let's hope so! I wan't to reach triathlon status. I wan't to tell people that I've hit 1st place in so-and-so marathon of the month. And after they would applaud me and I would feel like the man! But when people usually dream of reaching a pinnacle, it usually never happens, like never. So, I will stick to running my usual course of 5.1 km and try to beat my past times each future run. Then someday, when I feel I can handle the pain and pressure, I'll sign up for a actual marathon and that would be my version of a triathlon.